hello hello! it's me @grapes-are-kinda-weird-ngl, but i now have a writing blog for criminal minds!
here i'll post little snippets of my criminal minds fanfictions, write requests and more!
so far i think i'll only be writing for spencer reid, but that may be subject to change!
any smut on this account will be labelled as 18+, as to not get in trouble with tumblr's guidelines!!
my masterlist will be here!
and anything about love me do, cardigan, female of the species and any other fics i am currently writing will be placed on this masterlist of sorts here!
anyway, requests are currently open, so feel free to hit me up!
"I sort fics by kudos and only kudos on stories with high kudos counts, why aren't there more stories with high kudos, I ran out of things to read." You're part of the problem.
"Authors artificially inflate comment counts by thanking people, I can't find anything with a real comment count to read." No they fucking are not, they're grateful for engagement.
"I can't read anything under 100k." That's the majority of fics you're ignoring, most novels aren't even that long.
"I don't have time to look for the incredibly rare diamond in the rough, so I won't read anything below a certain amount of kudos, comments, and hits." Those fics are popular because people gave them a chance and then snobs like you found them.
"I won't read anthing with a single typos." You made typos in that sentence, get off your high horse.
"One singular author didn't thank me for commenting, I'm never commenting on any fic again so I don't get burned." You're punishing people because someone didn't give you engagement they don't owe you that they might not have seen.
"This fic is three months old, it's so old, it doesn't matter if I comment or kudos, it's old." Fics do not have expiration dates, comment and kudos.
You're killing your fandoms with your snobbish behaviors.
Random question lol but is there a specific gif you’ve made you’d really like to see used in a fic?
I know you said fic writers can use any gifs you made 🤣 I’m just curious if there’s one gif or more where you’re like “I rlly hope someone uses this one in a fic!”
As there wasn’t an official Kinktober prompt list last year, we’ve put together an unofficial one for 2025, along with an AO3 collection. The graphics were all made by @latte-cucumber, and she's also made a banner that you’re welcome to use for your Tumblr Kinktober posts:
More information
Kinktober is an October prompt challenge that’s been running in one form or another since 2016. There are three prompts for each day in October, and the challenge is to use one (or more!) of the prompts to create something for that day. If you don’t want to use any of the three daily prompts, you can swap them out for the bonus prompts at the bottom of the prompt list.
Our askbox is open for questions about how the challenge works or what the prompts mean.
summary: after an incident with a hickey after spending the night, spencer decides to confront you about your nightly habits, only to get sidetracked
warnings!: fem! reader!, unprotected p in v intercourse (wrap it before you tap it babes), hickeys, oral (f receiving), coming in pants (m), coming on stomach, the team tease spencer about the hickey, aftercare is implied but not outright mentioned i don't think
a/n: ahh! my first smut fic, and just in time for valentines day too!! i hope you all enjoy!
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Spencer really should have known better than to stay at yours last night. But, alas, when the thunderstorm had started last night, and you had looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes of yours, begging him to stay the night, because ‘you know how many accidents there are during storms, Spence’, he had folded immediately. And now, here he was, late for work; with his shirt haphazardly tucked into his slacks, his tie loosened and his hair messy. He wasn’t even aware of the mark visible on his Adam’s apple that you had made whilst fast asleep.
Though that lack of awareness did not last long, as the moment he walked into the bullpen, Morgan let out a loud whistle, attracting attention to him. JJ giggled, but tried to hide it behind her hand, though the way her blue eyes sparkled gave it away instantly.
“Looks like someone had a good night.” Morgan wiggled his brows suggestively.
“What? What do you mean?” Spencer furrowed his brows.
“One, you’re late, two, your clothes are a mess, and three, you have a hickey the size of a cent on your neck.” Emily replied, and he turned bright red, the flush travelling up his neck to his hairline.
After all, he could have sworn that he’d kept it chaste with you during the night. Nonetheless, he resolved himself to have a stern word with you when he got back to yours.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Finally, Spencer got home, (‘since when had he been calling your apartment home?’ a voice in the back of his mind wondered), and he found you in the bedroom, trying on some new clothes you’d bought, some discarded on the bed, some on the floor surrounding you. Well, clothes was a loose term. They were more like scraps of lacy fabric. You were currently modelling a pretty lilac bra, with tulle ruffles on the cups, and matching panties, that looked like they were made from ribbons.
Spencer’s breath hitched, and all thoughts of reprimanding you for the hickey flew out of his mind, as blood began to rush down to his cock. You looked stunning, especially in the light of the fake candles you had compromised on when Spencer had panicked about you having actual candles burning whilst you slept.
You turned around, and startled when you saw Spencer in the doorway, covering yourself up self-consciously. “Spencer! I didn’t hear you come in!”
“Don’t cover yourself up, please, baby.” Spencer breathed, approaching you with a reverent look in his eyes, like you were an angel, sent down from the heavens to tempt foolish mortals like him. Once he was stood in front of you, he dropped to his knees, holding your hips as he stared up at you. Your cheeks flushed red, and a shy smile appeared on your face.
“Stop looking at me like that.” you murmured, brushing a lock of his soft brown hair away from his face. The scent of honey wafted up, a reminder of his sweet shampoo.
“Why?” he asked breathlessly, still gazing at you softly.
A soft laugh bubbled from your lips. “It does things to me, Spen. So many things.”
A smile stretched across Spencer’s lips and he laughed. “You do things to me, every day.” he admitted. “When you wake up in the morning, your hair all messy, when you find something you like and bring it home or take a photograph to show me, when you do so many little mundane things, that just make you look like an angel.”
Heat rose up in your cheeks, and another laugh escaped you. “Spen-”
“Let me worship you, please.” Spencer pleaded, cutting you off. “You deserve to be worshipped, baby. If you are an angel, then I am your most devout follower, worshipping the very ground you step on, and every breath you take, amazed that you even deign to breathe the same air as me.”
Those words made you melt, and you let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Spencer.”
“Can I make love to you, please?” he asked, his hazel eyes sparkling with adoration. How could you resist those pretty puppy dog eyes? Or the way his voice dropped to a whisper on the last word?
“Darling, you don’t have to ask.” you replied, thumb tracing his lower lip as your fingers danced over his jawline. Spencer rose, and quickly cleared the bed, before grabbing your hips once more and laying you down on the plush duvet cover, and peppering soft kisses all over your face and neck.
His hands wandered, finding their way to the fastener of your bra, waiting for your permission. You nodded, and he obeyed, his hands fumbling with the garment in his excitement. Once the garment was off, he chucked it over his shoulder and immediately began lavishing attention on your breasts, nibbling at the soft flesh, before latching his mouth onto a nipple, sucking and licking until it was hard, before doing the same to the other one. Then, he trailed kisses down your abdomen, until he reached the waistband of your panties. Without waiting for permission, he wormed them off you, and threw them behind him to join your bra, revealing your lower lips, glistening with your arousal. His cheeks flushed at the obscene sight, though the way his pupils dilated belied his true feelings.
He spread your thighs gently with his hands, to reveal your pussy in all its glory; the swollen and throbbing nub that was your clitoris, the flushed look of your lips, and the slick arousal coming from your entrance. The sweet yet musky smell of your essence wafted up to his nose and he groaned, before hitching your legs up over his shoulders and diving into your pussy, beginning with a bold lick with the flat of his tongue, before settling on your clit, sucking and flicking the pearl with his tongue, eliciting a simply pornographic moan from you. He groaned against your pussy at the sound, feeling more blood rush down to his cock, which throbbed against the zipper of his trousers, making you moan again with the vibrations. He rutted slightly against the mattress as he ate you out, subconsciously craving relief.
“Oh, Spencer!” you whined, hands reaching down to fist in Spencer’s hair.
He continued his ministrations, slipping a finger into your entrance, seeking out the spongy tissue that consisted of your sweet spot. He curled his finger and was delighted to hear you whimper, tugging on his hair as a wave of pleasure washed over you. He inserted another finger and began pistoning them in and out as he suckled on your clit.
Finally, your climax hit you with full force, and with a broken gasp, you came, arching your back and tightening your grip in Spencer’s hair as your arousal gushed over the lower half of his face. He continued to lick and suckle your clit through your orgasm, his hips stuttering as he spilled into his trousers. Once you came down from the high, he pulled away, pulling out his fingers and licking them clean, before wiping your fluids from his face with the back of his hand. You didn’t mention the wet spot on the front of his slacks, as he kissed you softly, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
When he pulled away, that reverent expression was on his face once more. “Round two?” he asked, but you held up a hand, quickly grabbing your bottle of Pepsi and taking a swig to try and soothe your suddenly dry throat. Once you had recovered, you nodded.
“Round two.”
Spencer smiled and made quick work of his clothes, discarding them in the general direction of the lingerie you had been wearing. His cock was still hard, as if he hadn’t come only a few moments ago, the tip flushed a dusky pink, the veins crisscrossing the shaft throbbing with need. He wasn’t too big, perhaps a little above average, but his slimness made it seem bigger compared to the rest of him. A trimmed garden of curls surrounded the base of his cock, which meant sometimes his precome would drip into the curls.
He rubbed the leaking head against your slit, moaning at the sensation, before lining himself up with your entrance. Slowly, but surely, he pushed in, sheathing himself inch by agonising inch. Once he was fully seated, he gave you a moment to adjust, before gently beginning to fuck you. No, fuck was too coarse of a word, it was more like making soft, sweet love.
The pace was slow and gentle, as he nuzzled your neck and whispered sweet nothings in your ear, leaving little hickeys to bloom on your soft skin with each pass of his mouth. Perhaps this was his payback for the night before.
Eventually, you were close once more to falling off the precipice into bliss. “Ah- Spencer, I’m gonna-” your words were cut off as your orgasm crashed over you, trailing off into a moan. Spencer was close too, and pulled out, his seed spurting out over your mound and stomach, painting it with lewd streaks of white.
Once the two of you had cleaned up and recovered, you both snuggled up on the bed, ready for sleep to pull both of you into its warm embrace. It was then Spencer remembered what he had meant to talk to you about.
“Oh yeah, where’d this hickey come from?” he pointed to the mark, and was surprised at how shy you looked.
summary: after an incident with a hickey after spending the night, spencer decides to confront you about your nightly habits, only to get sidetracked
warnings!: fem! reader!, unprotected p in v intercourse (wrap it before you tap it babes), hickeys, oral (f receiving), coming in pants (m), coming on stomach, the team tease spencer about the hickey, aftercare is implied but not outright mentioned i don't think
a/n: ahh! my first smut fic, and just in time for valentines day too!! i hope you all enjoy!
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Spencer really should have known better than to stay at yours last night. But, alas, when the thunderstorm had started last night, and you had looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes of yours, begging him to stay the night, because ‘you know how many accidents there are during storms, Spence’, he had folded immediately. And now, here he was, late for work; with his shirt haphazardly tucked into his slacks, his tie loosened and his hair messy. He wasn’t even aware of the mark visible on his Adam’s apple that you had made whilst fast asleep.
Though that lack of awareness did not last long, as the moment he walked into the bullpen, Morgan let out a loud whistle, attracting attention to him. JJ giggled, but tried to hide it behind her hand, though the way her blue eyes sparkled gave it away instantly.
“Looks like someone had a good night.” Morgan wiggled his brows suggestively.
“What? What do you mean?” Spencer furrowed his brows.
“One, you’re late, two, your clothes are a mess, and three, you have a hickey the size of a cent on your neck.” Emily replied, and he turned bright red, the flush travelling up his neck to his hairline.
After all, he could have sworn that he’d kept it chaste with you during the night. Nonetheless, he resolved himself to have a stern word with you when he got back to yours.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Finally, Spencer got home, (‘since when had he been calling your apartment home?’ a voice in the back of his mind wondered), and he found you in the bedroom, trying on some new clothes you’d bought, some discarded on the bed, some on the floor surrounding you. Well, clothes was a loose term. They were more like scraps of lacy fabric. You were currently modelling a pretty lilac bra, with tulle ruffles on the cups, and matching panties, that looked like they were made from ribbons.
Spencer’s breath hitched, and all thoughts of reprimanding you for the hickey flew out of his mind, as blood began to rush down to his cock. You looked stunning, especially in the light of the fake candles you had compromised on when Spencer had panicked about you having actual candles burning whilst you slept.
You turned around, and startled when you saw Spencer in the doorway, covering yourself up self-consciously. “Spencer! I didn’t hear you come in!”
“Don’t cover yourself up, please, baby.” Spencer breathed, approaching you with a reverent look in his eyes, like you were an angel, sent down from the heavens to tempt foolish mortals like him. Once he was stood in front of you, he dropped to his knees, holding your hips as he stared up at you. Your cheeks flushed red, and a shy smile appeared on your face.
“Stop looking at me like that.” you murmured, brushing a lock of his soft brown hair away from his face. The scent of honey wafted up, a reminder of his sweet shampoo.
“Why?” he asked breathlessly, still gazing at you softly.
A soft laugh bubbled from your lips. “It does things to me, Spen. So many things.”
A smile stretched across Spencer’s lips and he laughed. “You do things to me, every day.” he admitted. “When you wake up in the morning, your hair all messy, when you find something you like and bring it home or take a photograph to show me, when you do so many little mundane things, that just make you look like an angel.”
Heat rose up in your cheeks, and another laugh escaped you. “Spen-”
“Let me worship you, please.” Spencer pleaded, cutting you off. “You deserve to be worshipped, baby. If you are an angel, then I am your most devout follower, worshipping the very ground you step on, and every breath you take, amazed that you even deign to breathe the same air as me.”
Those words made you melt, and you let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Spencer.”
“Can I make love to you, please?” he asked, his hazel eyes sparkling with adoration. How could you resist those pretty puppy dog eyes? Or the way his voice dropped to a whisper on the last word?
“Darling, you don’t have to ask.” you replied, thumb tracing his lower lip as your fingers danced over his jawline. Spencer rose, and quickly cleared the bed, before grabbing your hips once more and laying you down on the plush duvet cover, and peppering soft kisses all over your face and neck.
His hands wandered, finding their way to the fastener of your bra, waiting for your permission. You nodded, and he obeyed, his hands fumbling with the garment in his excitement. Once the garment was off, he chucked it over his shoulder and immediately began lavishing attention on your breasts, nibbling at the soft flesh, before latching his mouth onto a nipple, sucking and licking until it was hard, before doing the same to the other one. Then, he trailed kisses down your abdomen, until he reached the waistband of your panties. Without waiting for permission, he wormed them off you, and threw them behind him to join your bra, revealing your lower lips, glistening with your arousal. His cheeks flushed at the obscene sight, though the way his pupils dilated belied his true feelings.
He spread your thighs gently with his hands, to reveal your pussy in all its glory; the swollen and throbbing nub that was your clitoris, the flushed look of your lips, and the slick arousal coming from your entrance. The sweet yet musky smell of your essence wafted up to his nose and he groaned, before hitching your legs up over his shoulders and diving into your pussy, beginning with a bold lick with the flat of his tongue, before settling on your clit, sucking and flicking the pearl with his tongue, eliciting a simply pornographic moan from you. He groaned against your pussy at the sound, feeling more blood rush down to his cock, which throbbed against the zipper of his trousers, making you moan again with the vibrations. He rutted slightly against the mattress as he ate you out, subconsciously craving relief.
“Oh, Spencer!” you whined, hands reaching down to fist in Spencer’s hair.
He continued his ministrations, slipping a finger into your entrance, seeking out the spongy tissue that consisted of your sweet spot. He curled his finger and was delighted to hear you whimper, tugging on his hair as a wave of pleasure washed over you. He inserted another finger and began pistoning them in and out as he suckled on your clit.
Finally, your climax hit you with full force, and with a broken gasp, you came, arching your back and tightening your grip in Spencer’s hair as your arousal gushed over the lower half of his face. He continued to lick and suckle your clit through your orgasm, his hips stuttering as he spilled into his trousers. Once you came down from the high, he pulled away, pulling out his fingers and licking them clean, before wiping your fluids from his face with the back of his hand. You didn’t mention the wet spot on the front of his slacks, as he kissed you softly, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
When he pulled away, that reverent expression was on his face once more. “Round two?” he asked, but you held up a hand, quickly grabbing your bottle of Pepsi and taking a swig to try and soothe your suddenly dry throat. Once you had recovered, you nodded.
“Round two.”
Spencer smiled and made quick work of his clothes, discarding them in the general direction of the lingerie you had been wearing. His cock was still hard, as if he hadn’t come only a few moments ago, the tip flushed a dusky pink, the veins crisscrossing the shaft throbbing with need. He wasn’t too big, perhaps a little above average, but his slimness made it seem bigger compared to the rest of him. A trimmed garden of curls surrounded the base of his cock, which meant sometimes his precome would drip into the curls.
He rubbed the leaking head against your slit, moaning at the sensation, before lining himself up with your entrance. Slowly, but surely, he pushed in, sheathing himself inch by agonising inch. Once he was fully seated, he gave you a moment to adjust, before gently beginning to fuck you. No, fuck was too coarse of a word, it was more like making soft, sweet love.
The pace was slow and gentle, as he nuzzled your neck and whispered sweet nothings in your ear, leaving little hickeys to bloom on your soft skin with each pass of his mouth. Perhaps this was his payback for the night before.
Eventually, you were close once more to falling off the precipice into bliss. “Ah- Spencer, I’m gonna-” your words were cut off as your orgasm crashed over you, trailing off into a moan. Spencer was close too, and pulled out, his seed spurting out over your mound and stomach, painting it with lewd streaks of white.
Once the two of you had cleaned up and recovered, you both snuggled up on the bed, ready for sleep to pull both of you into its warm embrace. It was then Spencer remembered what he had meant to talk to you about.
“Oh yeah, where’d this hickey come from?” he pointed to the mark, and was surprised at how shy you looked.
Your skin jumps in your bones, blinking at Reid as he leans over you with the book in his hand, and you squint at the spine of the book.
"A textbook on love?"
"I'm— I'm in love with you." He raises a brow at you, eyes with a glisten as you blink at him wide-eyed, holding the book up to cover half of your face as he blinks. "There's no other explanation for it, really. I wanted to be sure before I told you but it all makes— makes sense. The racing heart, the nauseating churning of my insides. Not to mention the way my brain short-circuts when you pass me and don't notice me. It would also explain why I crash so hard after you leave the apartment for the night. It's love. It has to be."
"So you're in love with me?" You raise a brow, reaching for the bookmark to save your page.
"...Yes."
"Doctor Reid you are such a dork!" You squeal, head thrown against the back of the couch as he raises a brow down at you.
"Am I?"
"Absolutely."
there's a certain fondness that's present in your eyes. the same fondness that weaved through his own mother's eyes when he was young, but it still has him humming quiet tunes to himself. a thumb brushing the underside of your eye, a quiet mumble to himself because of you. in the quiet moments after it all, he dares to let himself stop. stop pondering and thinking. he knows you with his heart and not necessarily his mind, and that might be all that he is missing.
"Why love and not like?"
"I feel like the word like could not describe the intensity of the emotion I feel."
"Agh!" You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down into the couch with you, laughing as he lands on you.
"Germs." He mumbles.
"On you. Not me." You pinch at his hair, humming quietly as he stares. "I just showered."
"You don't mind?"
"If you're really iffy about it, then I can shower again." You hum.
"That won't be necessary. That'll strip your hair of more oils, but—"
tags: spencer reid x reader. making out. clothed grinding. what glasses!spencer deserved.
a/n: i love whenever the camera angle shows just how FUCKED mgg’s eyesight is lmfao there are some scenes of glasses!spencer where you can see how thick the lenses are… i love him
requested?: yep ! thank u so much for the request <3
requests are open !
Working as a Technical Analyst for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit had its pros and cons. Having your own office was definitely a huge perk. He was only supposed to drop off your daily bagel and coffee. It was an act of service that your beloved boyfriend liked to indulge in. He was only here to make sure you’d eaten breakfast.
Like a ritual, he leans over your shoulder, your cheek turned toward him like second nature, as he gives you a soft, shy kiss.
“Thank you, darling.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs against your cheek, nose digging against your temple he breathes in the scent of you.
Without removing your eyes from your screen, you reach a hand up to give his cheek and jaw a loving caress. Curious fingers brush against plastic frames. You turn your attention to him in awe, “You’re wearing your glasses today!”
“Mhm,” he brings a finger up to fix his frames, almost bashful. “Ran out of contact solution.”
You take his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I love your glasses. You look so handsome, so beautiful.” You grin at the way his cheeks redden.
“Gimme a kiss?”
He eagerly dives in for one. A hand moves to cup the back of your head, tender in his affections. He lavishes attention on your top lip, moans, and then moves his focus to your lower lip. His tongue shy in the heat of your mouth. Spencer lets out another little moan, the sound of his near whimper making you stand.
From cheek to shoulder, you rub your thumb on his skin. You push him down onto the chair, his legs parting on instinct to make place for you. Knees digging against his thigh and hips, you make yourself comfortable on your throne.
“You’re so pretty,” he says up to you. Spencer’s lips are swollen and red, glistening with spit. His eyes are watery and hazy, his glasses fogged from the breath shared between you. His big hands grip your hips so tight you’re sure he’d wrinkle the blouse you picked for the day.
You bend down for another kiss, pressing your hips down at Spencer’s plea. He guides your hips down against his lap, you feel the zipper of his slacks press against the heat of your core. You’re wet, the room is hot, and Spencer’s mouth and tongue move to nip and kiss and lick along your chin and jaw.
As you grind down against his growing bulge, Spencer’s hands move to untuck your blouse from your pants. Gentle hands and curious fingers move beneath the fabric to feel your heated skin against his palm.
A commotion outside your office makes you stop the grind of your hips.
Spencer turns his head to the left, parting his lips from yours, a string of spit keeping you connected. With your foreheads pressed against each other, you put an ear out to listen on the other side of the door. You think you hear the familiar clicks and clacks of Penelope’s heels.
“I think I need to go,” Spencer sounds disappointed. You press a kiss on the corner of his lips.
Running your hands through his hair, you sigh. “Yeah, probably.”
He smiles up at you, eyes heavy-lidded in ecstasy, hands still caressing the skin of your hips.
He loves the feel of your hand in his hair. He loves the soft kiss you give the tip of his nose. He loves the way you fix his glasses, crooked and fogged up from the heat of your kisses. He loves you, and you love him. He feels it now as you smooth down the front of his button-up shirt.
You slowly stand from your place on his lap, fixing your pants that had ridden up and bunched at your thighs from your little session. You notice Spencer doing the same to his own.
He sniffs, standing, two fingers pushing his glasses more firmly up the bridge of his nose.
“One last kiss?”
You smile at his request, finger and thumb reaching forward to pinch his nose.
description : in which reader forgets their weighted blanket, but spencer is more than happy to be their substitute
word count : 791 words!
notes : gn! reader, implied neurodivergent! reader, morgan gets bullied
Something you had always struggled with at work was understimulation. You never allowed yourself to stim, mostly for fear of judgement, but also because you feared it wasn’t professional for a seasoned BAU agent to stim in front of your coworkers.
Today was not that much different. After a quick bathroom break to stim happily now that you and the team were on the jet back to Quantico after a gruelling case in Denver, Colorado, you had returned to your spot on the sofa, rummaging through your go-bag to try and find your weighted blanket, only to remember you’d foolishly left it at home in your haste to get to the jet on time for the briefing after Hotch had called you about the case.
A little sigh escaped you. Luckily, most of the team were too preoccupied to hear your dismay; Hotch and Rossi sleeping, JJ and Emily playing snap on the games table, Morgan listening to his MP3 player and Spencer reading. It was him who heard your noise of consternation, and he looked up from his book. Upon seeing your perturbed expression, he closed it and inched out of his seat, approaching you.
“Are… you okay?” he asked, slightly nervously.
“I’m fine.” You told him, but it was clear he didn’t believe you.
Spencer raised a brow. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t have sighed like that. Now answer my question. Are you okay?”
Another sigh escaped you. “I forgot to pack my weighted blanket.” you admitted awkwardly. “I’m feeling really badly understimulated and I need some deep pressure.”
Spencer paused. “Deep pressure?” he repeated, momentarily dumbfounded before a bashful flush painted his cheeks pink. “Uh, would you like me to be your substitute?” he offered timidly.
You paused. Spencer Reid? Offering to be your weighted blanket? The opportunity was way too good to pass up.
“Yes.” you nodded in confirmation, moving to lie down on the sofa, and beckoning Spencer closer. He hesitantly did so, before pausing.
“Are you sure?” he asked, just to confirm. You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, but a small grin tugged at your lips.
“Just crush me, Dr. Reid.” you replied, so he gingerly laid on top of you. “Put more of your weight on me.” you ordered and he hesitated.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Spencer protested shyly.
“Put your weight on me!” you laughed, and he did so after another moment’s hesitation, sensing that you really did need it. You relaxed under him as you felt his weight on you, a blissful smile on your face.
You murmured your gratitude, and promptly fell asleep under Spencer, who smiled in astonishment at how fast you’d succumbed to the Sandman. Though, admittedly, his eyes were getting heavy too… and your soft and slow breathing was lulling him to sleep… Surely you wouldn’t mind if he took a quick cat nap, would you? With that decided, he fell asleep too, his snoring mingling with yours.
Unbeknownst to the two of you sleeping beauties, the rest of the team had noticed what was going on, and even Hotch and Rossi had woken up. Morgan grinned.
“Oh, babygirl is going to flip if she doesn’t get any evidence of the two lovebirds snuggling.” he laughed, taking out his phone to take a picture, Emily following suit.
JJ rolled her eyes. “Leave them alone.” she scolded the two, with no real heat, as she too took out her phone and snapped a few pictures of you and Spencer slumbering together.
“Let them be.” Hotch, ever the hypocrite, added, as he also snapped a picture that may or may not eventually become his wallpaper for the next month.
It wasn’t until the plane was due to land that someone woke you and Spencer up, shaking your shoulders.
“Come on kids, the jet’s gonna land.” Rossi announced. Spencer blinked blearily as he slowly woke up, before jolting up and straddling you when he realised what position he’d woken up in. You did so too, accidentally smacking your forehead against Spencer’s making the both of you groan and hold a hand against your injured brows.
Morgan snorted. “You two really are made for each other. You’re both as graceful as baby deer on ice.” You and Spencer glared at the bald man, who raised his hands up in surrender.
“Shut it, baldilocks.” you grumbled tiredly and Spencer snickered, causing Morgan to fake a gasp of faux indignance.
“Agent.” Hotch scolded you, though there was a grin on his face.
“Sorry Morgan, for pointing out your shiny bald head.” you apologised half-heartedly, making the rest of the team laugh at Morgan’s affronted splutters. A little smile appeared on your face. Who knew forgetting your weighted blanket would lead to this?
you were sitting at your desk in the BAU headquarters, typing up a report when spencer reid walked in, balancing a stack of files. he took his seat across from you, immediately launching into one of his typical rambles.
“did you know that heart palpitations can be triggered by a range of stimuli?” he began, “they can be caused by stress, caffeine, or even strong emotions. the body’s response is quite fascinating; the sympathetic nervous system activates, increasing the heart rate as if preparing for a fight-or-flight scenario, while the parasympathetic system works to slow it down.” you nodded, only half-listening as you focused on your work. morgan walked past with a mug of coffee and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly—here we go again.
“but what’s really interesting,” spencer continued obliviously, “is how our hearts can react to emotional stimuli. for example, being around someone you care about can cause your heart rate to spike. it’s a subconscious reaction, the body’s way of signaling attraction, i suppose.”
you glanced up, pretending to be interested, “really? that sounds… complicated.”
his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. “it is! and i’ve noticed something peculiar. whenever i’m around you, my heart rate tends to increase. isn’t that intriguing? it’s like my body is reacting without my conscious input.”
fingers hovering above the keyboard, you stared. “hold on. spencer, are you saying your heart rate spikes when you’re near me?”
“yes,” he replied, as if discussing a scientific anomaly. “it’s a consistent observation— an autonomic response to the stimuli of your presence. must be some sort of psychological response.”
“…okay, i’m not an expert, but that might indicates that you have a crush on me.”
he blinked, cheeks flushing a deep red as he processed your words.
“…oh, i see. makes sense, come to think of it.”
before either of you could say more, you caught a glimpse of gideon standing in the doorway, watching the exchange with a knowing smile.
fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.
