Summary: Spencer notices the way you always cross your arms and he jumps to conclusions you're happy to clear up.
Warnings: fluff, sweet and caring Spencer, yes that is a warning, Derek is totally over the pining
Word Count: 400
Credits: Adorable dividers by @saradika-graphics - Header by me, @lobster-graphics
You always ran cold. You have for as long as you can remember. No matter the weather, unless it was the middle of summer, your hands were always cold. You wore gloves when you could but they weren't always an option so you opted for folding your arms. You constantly folded your arms and something about the action confused Spencer.
During a quiet flight home he saw you sitting with your arms folded like always. But this time he decided to talk to you. He slid into the seat across from you and your eyes shifted from the window to him.
"Hey, um" He paused to clear his throat, unsure of how to ask his question "A-are you okay?"
You tilted your head and squinted a little but a small smile still played across your lips "I'm fine, Spence. Why do you ask?"
"Well, you often have your arms folded and that's a sign of aggression or a way to try and shut people out. I don't want you to shut me out"
"Oh" You near cooed "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry. My hands just get cold, that's all" You replied, unfolding your arms immediately.
"All the time?"
"Yeah, it's kinda annoying as hell and I can't always wear my gloves"
"Well, I-I could help"
"Yeah? How?"
"I could…hold them, maybe?"
"You'd do that?"
"Yeah. I don't want you to be cold"
Your smile widened as you held your hands out to him. Spencer hesitantly extended one of his hands and brushed his fingers across yours.
"Is this okay?"
"Mhm" You nodded "'s nice"
His fingers wrapped around both of your hands, his thumbs rubbed over your knuckles lightly and you felt warmer already.
"Is that any better?" He asked after a few minutes.
"Yes. But that doesn't mean I want you to stop"
Spencer smiled brightly and squeezed your hands ever so slightly.
"Who said I wanted to?"
You two sat like that for the rest of the flight and at some point you must have drifted off together because when you woke up you had a text from Garcia with a photo of the two of you.
My favourite love birds
You rolled your eyes before looking back at Spencer who was looking slightly awkward.
"Something wrong?"
"Uh, n-nothing"
What you didn't know was that he got the same photo from Morgan with a very different message attached.
Go on a date now before I lock you both in a room and throw away the key
could you write something where the reader is listening to reid going off on his tangents and when he gets insecure, just straight up saying. "no, go on. i like the sound of your voice." ? ty! 🤍
Don't shut up // no warnings as far as i can tell? lmk if not <3 pure fluff!! ty for the request <333
"They usually called her the Limping Lady but there's really no way to tell how many pseudonyms she used," Spencer is saying, dragging his hand through your hair where you lay on his lap, His other hand is busy grasping at the air while he talks.
"Because of the prosthetic leg?" You ask, urging him to continue talking. You're nearly asleep, eyes heavy and chest loose with the comfort of his proximity.
"Yeah. She actually nicknamed it 'Cuthbert' when she got the wooden prosthetic. It's actually pretty interesting - people have been using prosthetics for a really long time. We don't know exactly when people started using them in modern medicine, but the first evidence we can find of them dates all the way back to ancient Egypt where they found a prosthetic toe."
The documentary Spencer put on over an hour ago about World War II has long since been paused, Netflix's blinking "Are you still watching?" hovering uselessly on his laptop screen. He paused it ages ago to discuss the inaccuracies about Hitler's past, then Italy's involvement in France and the parallels between the almost French famine and the Irish famine, leading him to Virginia Hall.
All in all, you're in heaven. He's been stroking your hair, blunt nails scratching every so often, voice rumbling through his chest and stomach where your ear presses against. He's talking calmly, even, if not slightly rushed, like he can't wait for even a breath to keep telling you about everything he knows.
"I just want you to know all of the things I know, too, you know?" He told you once when you urged him to slow down. He's learned to take his time with you, eventually, realizing that you're not waiting for your opportunity to jump in. You don't spend your time with Spencer figuring out when it'll be your turn to talk next; instead, you lull in the comfortable space of listening while knowing he'll return the favor the moment you have something to say.
"Sorry, are you trying to sleep? I can shut up and turn the movie back on," Spencer says suddenly, hand stilling in your hair.
You open your eyes slightly to find him looking down at you, lip caught between his teeth, a hesitant look in his eyes.
Spencer doesn't often get insecure like this around you - you've spent plenty of time convincing him that there's no need - but moments like this still happen. You suppose it's a natural product of constant teasing and bullying through childhood.
"I don't mean to ramble," he mutters when he catches your eye.
"No," you say, interrupting him and reaching up to brush your fingers across his cheekbone and up to his eyebrows. "No, Spence, I literally love the sound of your voice. Please, keep going."
You watch him melt, afraid for a moment that his liquid brown eyes will start to water. You make a concerned noise, about to sit up and comfort him further, when his hand moves to press down on your collarbones. He holds you in place as he looks at you for a second, heated gaze causing you to feel warm. Slowly, he bends to press a kiss on each of your eyelids, right below your eyebrows. He rests his lips on the bones there for a few moments before moving to the next.
"I love you," he murmurs, the truth of the statement oozing out too sincerely to ignore.
He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before diving right back into his explanation of how ancient prosthetics were integrated into modern medicine, hand resuming its path in your hair and voice slowly bringing you to a calm half-nap.
Summary: It’s Spencer’s 30th birthday and you seem to be the only one who remembers. You drop off your present to him but when you get home you realize you gave him the wrong box. You gave him the one filled with love letters.
Word count: 1.04k
Disclaimer/s: none! pure fluff <3
A/N: This one is for my bsf, I love you enny, happy belated 17th 💌
Taking a few deep breaths, you finally bring yourself to knock on the green door in front of you. Nerves wracked your body, as they did every time you were around Spencer. Sure, he was one of your closest friends, but he was also so much more than that, to you at least.
Hearing the sounds of feet shuffling behind the door, you brace yourself by clutching the box in your hands tighter. You should’ve noticed how much lighter it was when you set it down on your bed versus how it felt now.
The door cracks open and you can hear the lock being unchained before the tall figure that was Spencer Reid loomed before you, a confused expression on his face.
“Hey?” He speaks slowly. Then his eyes fall from your face to the box in your hands. “Oh!”
“Happy birthday!” You smile, nervous jitters wracking your body the longer you stand in his entrance. “The big Three-zero!” You add, instantly embarrassed with how evident you being flustered was.
Then Spencer lets out the most beautiful noise, his laugh. “Thank you! I didn’t think anyone remembered!” Handing the present to him, your fingers graze against his, sending tingles all up your back.
“What?” You frown, it was nearly 8 PM, had nobody told him happy birthday? Your question was answered the second you noticed the slight change in his smile, its corners twitching slightly. “Oh, i’m sorry—“
“Don’t be!” He waves it off, trying to hide how little it may have bothered him, “uhm, do you want to come in? I have coffee brewing.”
As much as you wished you could say yes, you knew you had lots to do at home before the weekend ended. “I wish I could, but I have to get home.. maybe next weekend?”
Hiding how disappointed he felt, Spencer nods in understanding. “Of course.” He nods, “and thank you, again.”
“You’re welcome, Spence. I hope you had a good day.. I’ll see you around the office tomorrow?” You ask, not knowing why you tried to keep conversation when you knew you had to go.
Spencer nods, his curls falling across his face as he does so. Lifting a hand to brush them back, the awkward man gives you one last smile. “For sure, see you around.”
And with that, you two say your ‘goodnight’s’. You leave with the same feeling you’d arrived with. Something was.. off.
Twenty minutes later, you arrive back to your apartment, ready to go over the last of the paperwork you needed to get done. Deciding to change into a pair of pajamas first, you walk into your bedroom, your whole body frozen the second your eyes land on the brown box sitting on your fresh white comforter.
Oh… oh hell no.
Hesitantly reaching out, you flip the lid off. There was Spencers actual present. The three books and a box of his favorite tea laying neatly within it. Fuck.
Nervously wracking your brain, you try to think of ways to get the original box back before he could open it. You knew it was a lost cause. Knowing Spencer, he’d opened it the second you left.
Anxiously grabbing your phone, you debate on whether to text him or not. If you ignored it, you’d still have to face him in the office tomorrow, but if you faces it head on… you’d still have to see him every day.
This was definitely a lose-lose situation.
You must’ve zoned out because the next thing you knew, there was three loud knocks at the front of your door, snapping you back to reality.
Hesitantly making your way toward the door to your apartment, you check the peep hole first, a habit you’d picked up as many of your co workers had.. experiences with intruders to put it lightly.
Chest contracting at the nervous face that came into vision, “hey.” He speaks softly, eyes refusing to look into yours.
You glance down at the box in his hands, your face flushing a vibrant red. “Listen—I can explain.”
“You—you don’t have to.” He stumbles you, shaking his head vigorously, “why didn’t you, uhm, why didn’t you tell me?”
Knowing there was no way out of this, your shoulders slump. “Because, there was no sense in ruining a friendship over something like.. that.” You motion toward the box.
Spencer’s eyebrows pull together, his head tilting to the side. “Why not?” His voice cracks, causing your eyes to snap to his. “I mean—it’s not like it wasn’t requited.”
“Spencer.” You sigh, drawling out his name. “Don’t do this to me right now. Please.” Don’t give me hope.
“Why not?!” He’s doing the thing where his voice raises an octave, which had to be one of his most adorable traits. His face pulled downwards, as if you just told him you were dying.
“Because..” Licking your lips, you turn your head to the side. You couldn’t look at him when you said this. “I don’t need false hope.”
There’s a long excruciating silence, in which Spencer stares at you in disbelief before getting his act together. He straightens his posture a little and whispers your name, “please look at me.”
Not being able to resist, your eyes flicker toward his. They are soft, the kind of shape that made it feel like you were staring into a doe’s eyes. His eyebrows scrunched up, every emotion written clearly in his face in such simple ways. Ways only you ever seemed to notice.
“I—“ you start, but are cut off instantly by Spencer.
“Would you like to get coffee together sometime?” He stumbles over his words, his lip twitching into an awkward, nervous smile.
Your heart hammering in your chest, you nod. You nod and you nod until you force yourself to stop. “Yes!” You smile, stomach full of butterflies.
“If we don’t have a case this weekend, would Saturday work? Anywhere you want to go.” He adds the last part quickly, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited for your reply.
“You choose the place and i’ll be there.”
Who knew in a million years, that it would take one simple mistake to get what you’ve wanted for years.
Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader
♯ Meteor Shower - Cavetown
Synopsis: it's almost like Spencer sees you with a different hair colour every day. He's used to it by now, so you decide to spice it up by surprising him with a colour that's very personal to him.
Genre: fluff, crack.
Cw: Spencer's fav colour is canon purple in my heart. Reader dyes their hair. Banter. Reader is implied to have past-shoulder length hair. Probably inaccurate statistics I got from TikTok but is for the plot Reader was a rebellious kid. 6/7 sneak in. Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Father figure Rossi and Hotch. Fluff!!! Reader's hair is bleached. Your hair is dead as hell.
Wc: 1.9k
"I can see the blonde."
"Morgan I need you to shut up." You groan in frustration.
"I can't even tell what colour it was before." Emily says from beside you on the jet.
"I think it was blue." JJ looks up from her file.
"Or maybe it was red." Garcia points to the mop of dead hair on your head. "I see the small tints of ginger on it." She gasps.
"It was actually hot pink." Spencer says matter-of-factly, his eyes were fixated on you. "But they did dye their hair red before the pink so that's where the red came from."
"I rushed the process and forgot to use dye remover." You let out a lazy smile. Grabbing a few strands of your hair, watching as the faded pink and orange hue blended with the blonde of the bleach that you had used fall from between your fingers.
"I haven't had any time to re-dye it, you guys had to look at this monstrosity for four months." Your hand waved to the lack of colour on your head.
The first time you dyed your hair was when you were around 14. You had locked yourself in the bathroom, and after two hours, a few dead strands, and a three hour lecture from your parents, you had grown to love the colours. You'd change in frequently, right before the colours would fade.
Sometimes you'd call in Garcia, sometimes you'd call in Emily. More often than not you'd do it yourself.
"You're runnin' outta colours." Derek tells you, you look at him, rolling your eyes as you let out a groan once again.
"I know."
"Maybe you should let your hair grow out, y'know, let it get healthy first?" Rossi's statement made you whip your head to look right at him.
"Excuse me?" You say in mock offence as laughter coursed around you.
"Actually what Y/n uses is direct dye instead of box dye. Box dye is a retail product containing a standardised chemical hair colour kit for home use, while direct dye refers to a type of hair colouring that doesn't require a developer to activate its colour. Direct dye is essentially conditioner with colour, which means that they could dye their hair as many times as they want and it'll do minimal to no damage." Spencer raises his eyebrows as he speaks. The corners of his lips twitching into smile while he rants.
You look back at him, a thought forming inside your head as you gasp, "did you learn all that for me?" He could see the glint of playfulness in your eyes as you sarcastically lift your hands and folded it over your chest.
"Well.. I didn't know much about it before meeting you, so.. I guess you could say I did." He smiles. Your eyes widen only slightly, you looked away from him as you felt your face flush. "Damn it Reid, you weren't supposed to retaliate."
Another round of laughter echoed through the jet as it landed.
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"Y/n, when are you going to change your hair?" Emily asks from behind you while you walk in front of her out of the elevator. "I just-- can't take another day looking at you and not seeing the combination of bright, neon colours." She smiles.
You laugh at her comment, walking to the bullpen and sitting yourself down on your desk.
"Don't tell me you're actually listening to Rossi and are letting your hair take a break." Spencer says to you from his desk, his face lightening up the second he saw you.
"You should really consider it." Rossi snaps back, he reaches for the tip of your hair, standing it up between his index and middle finger, pointing at it when it visibly stands up. "It's very damaged."
You smack his hand away, scoffing in annoyance despite the growing smile on your face. "That's from the bleach, not the dye."
You fold your arms on the table in front of you and rested your chin on the open of your palm. "I'm still thinking about what colour to dye it."
"You should dye it Spencer's favourite colour." Derek points at the pretty boy next to him. He blushes, terribly so.
"I-- I-- what? Why would they--"
You let out a chuckle. To be honest, you were seriously considering doing just that.. if the two of you were ever to date. You thought it would be cute, a symbol of your adoration.. of some sort. You started to realise how long it would take for the two of you to actually date each other.
The past few years have just been an endless dance of chasing after each other. He wasn't as shy as when the two of you had just met, he started to become more flirtatious, responding to your attempts of flirting in the only way he knew how to; random info dumping. Though, he was always too shy to actually ask you out.
"I'll think about it." You grin, snapping yourself out of your thoughts and trying your best to hide the obvious flush of embarrassment you were feeling from Derek's one off comment. Spencer though..
"They've done six out of the seven colours from ROYGBIV, so realistically it would make more sense if they did orange!" He stammered through an explanation, your head rested further on your palm. He has a very cute blush.
"i already did orange."
"No you didn't"
"Yeah I did, the red faded into an orange.. ish."
"..." He looks at you dumbfounded, while you tried your best to compose yourself and not let out a laugh.
"Can't argue with that." He sighs.
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You tossed the keys to your apartment down on your dining table, hastily locking the door and taking off your shoes as you make your way to the bathroom.
You took of your shirt, changing into the tank top that you'd always use when wanting to change the colour of your hair. The splotches of dye evident on every inch of the top.
You set the plastic bag that you were holding down on the vanity. You reached inside and pulled out a few bottles.
You let out a breath.
Alright, let's do this.
An hour had passed, your legs were tired and your arms hurt. Your pants were discarded and tossed to your laundry basket. You were almost done, the only thing you had left to do was wait a few more minutes and then remove the foil.
You looked to the multiple bottles of dye in front of you. You tried mixing multiple colours to try and get the correct shade.
Spencer's favourite colour was a specific shade of purple. He likened it to royal purple with a mix of violet. You didn't know what that meant, but you understood that the colour spoke to him.
You had managed to borrow his scarf, the exact scarf that he would use as an example when someone would ask what his favourite colour was.
You spent even longer at the store, feeling bad for bothering the employees when you had asked them if there was a shade for that exact colour. Before leaving the store with five different bottles, they didn't have the shade so you were going to mix it yourself.
You threw out the foil that was folded on top of your head, stepping into the shower and washing it off.
You looked at yourself after drying your hair, you felt a tingle in your chest.
It was anticipation, you wondered how he would react, if he would finally realise that he liked it so much he wanted to ask your ass out on a date, or maybe he wouldn't notice at all? Would he know that you dedicated it with his favourite colour?
As you set a towel over your pillow, you drifted off to sleep while you waited for the next time you meet him.
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"Woahh, okay!" Derek exclaims from the bullpen, a certain purple head caught his eye. "They're purple today!"
Hotch walks by you as he came back form the kitchen. Pausing his step and looking at you for a second, before letting out a small sigh.
"Finally, things are normal now." He smiles.
You let out a chuckle, "sorry it took so long."
"At least your hair had four months of fresh air." Rossi mutters from his desk, you roll your eyes playfully at him while you walked towards your own.
You scanned the room, trying to find a certain brown haired man that you adored so much.
You set your bag down on your chair, before making your way to the kitchen to find him.
You found him stirring his coffee by the fridge, your eyes brighten the moment you saw him.
"Hey"
You watch as he jumps, briefly looking your way and back to the cup in his hands, he looks back at you again, quicker this time.
"Oh! It's purple." He says, his eyes never leaving your hair. You wonder if he realises, the way he had a twinkle in his eyes contrasted with the slightly disappointed tone in his voice.
"Do you not like it?" You raise an eyebrow. He stammers as he sets the coffee stick in the trash.
"No no! I do, it's just that you already did purple."
You smile, steadying yourself as you prepared to say the next few words, you could feel your heartbeat hammering in your chest. You were strangely nervous.
"Yeah but.. it's your favourite shade."
He freezes, eyes slowly lowering from the top of your head to your eyes. He felt his own blush creep from the back of his neck all the way to his ears.
"Purple's your favourite colour." You say, after noticing the way his brain was short-circuiting.
"Yeah-- no- I know.." his voice was an octave higher now, "I just.. didn't think you'd actually follow what Morgan said." He said, recalling the way he blushed to Derek's words the other day.
You suck in a breath, knowing that this time was it.
"I mean.. I've been thinking about it for a while.." you avoided his eyes, while he was still staring at yours. "I've always thought it would be cute."
"It is cute!" He says almost too quickly, he was as surprised as you were, looking around to see if any of the other members of the team had heard, before turning back to you when he realised no one did.
He stuttered through a a sentence, before sighing at himself. You could feel your cheeks pulling into a smile. He was so adorable.
"It's very cute." His voice had certainty now, he hesitates for a bit, before continuing "you're cute too." He blinks his way out of your gaze now.
You felt your chest swell up in happiness, fucking finally.
"And.. thank you." He smiles shyly, "for.. even wanting to dye it my favourite colour."
Your eyes lit up, brighter than it already was, "I did a pretty good job with the shade match huh?"
The two of you share a laugh.
"I gotta say guys, once they end up marrying each other, just know I got them together." Derek mutters next to him as him, Emily, and Rossi watch the both of you intently from the bullpen.
"It's refreshing to see them finally get out of their courting phase." Hotch says from behind the four of them.
"You think this is finally it?" Emily asks, her smile wide as ever, her gaze never faltering.
"Something tells me that they'll get together real soon."
Summary: You hooked up with someone expecting to keep him as a one-and-done. You didn't expect him to show up at your college.
Square Filled: "You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk.” for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
Shit. Shit. Shit. You’re so late. You can’t be late for your first day of college. You had a bit too much to drink last night which caused you to sleep in longer than you wanted to. You’re so late that you didn’t have time to do your makeup. Eh, you can do it when you get to school. The drive is only thirty minutes but with morning traffic, it takes forty-five.
Meet me in the bathroom by the cafeteria! Emergency! You send to your best friend.
You rush from your car all the way to the bathroom before anyone else has a chance to see how messed up you look. You have everything you need in your backpack to fix your look, and you almost cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror.
“Man, I need to stop drinking,” you shake your head.
You take out your brush and comb your hair when Madison walks in.
“Y/N?”
“Over here.”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“I woke up late. I didn’t have time to do my makeup. I need to use yours.”
“You texted me this is an emergency. I blew off Jason just to come here.”
“Mads, this is an emergency. Look at me. I can’t go to class looking like this. I still have pimples on my face. Can I use your makeup or not?”
“Of course.” She sets her backpack on the counter and takes out the massive bag containing everything she needs for a full face of makeup. It’s a damn good thing you’re the exact shade as her. “Why’d you wake up late?”
“I was out late last night.”
“And?”
“Why does there have to be an and?”
“Bitch, I know you.”
“I had too much to drink,” you sigh.
“There it is,” she laughs. “Who’d you do?”
“Why does there have to be a guy?” you chuckle and look at her. She raises an eyebrow as if you could actually fool her. “Okay, I don’t know his name. I was too busy making out with him to ask.”
“Do tell,” she smirks. You grab an elastic and put your hair up to have it out of the way while you do your makeup. She gasps when she sees the dark purple marks on your neck. “What the fuck are those?”
“So, they’re noticeable?”
“Noticeable? It looks like he was trying to suck your blood. God damn.”
“Mads, when I tell you this man was so fine, I mean it. I thought he was shy and awkward because he had that look about him, but he was the complete opposite. He took me to the back where the bathrooms were and had his way with me. God, he was so big,” you gasp.
“Tell me you got his number.”
“His friends came and got him before we could say anything. I don’t even know his name. I had to go home and put my vibrator to good use even after the orgasms he gave me.”
“Okay, new mission in life, find that man. It’s been a while since you let someone ruffle your feathers.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle.
You grab what you need and cover your marks as much as you can. They’re so dark that the foundation can’t cover it completely, but with your hair down, it’s manageable. Once you feel like you can walk out in public, you hand everything back to her.
“Okay, we’re good to go. Thank you.”
“Anytime,” she winks.
You take one look at yourself and remember what it was like to have his hands on your body.
You’ve never done this with a stranger before. Sure, you’ve had public sex before but nothing like this. None of your flings had this much passion. You’ve only met this man not even an hour ago and his tongue is down your throat.
There is a family bathroom next to the men’s and women’s restrooms, so he shoves you into that one and locks the door behind him. He grabs your hips and lifts you so that you can wrap your legs around his slender waist. He shoves his hand between your legs as his lips trail down your neck.
“You are one fine specimen, and I'm not saying that because I'm drunk,” you moan.
All you can focus on is the way his fingers are rubbing on your clothed clit and how his lips are sucking on your neck.
“Y/N!” You snap out of your trance and look at her. “We’re going to be late. Come on.”
“Right.”
You two leave the bathroom and head in the direction of your first class, Criminal Justice 101.
“Tell me what he looks like. It’ll help me try to find him.”
“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, very tall, slim build, and he was wearing a sweater vest. Not what you’d think he’d be like. He knew what he was doing, that’s for sure,” you chuckle. “I don’t know anything about him.”
“You just know what his tongue and cock feels like.”
“Madison!” You look away once and run into someone who is reading a book. “Watch where you’re going.”
“That is no way to speak to a professor, young lady.”
You look back and see the Dean of the school escorting one of the new professors. You lock eyes with the new professor with wide eyes. He’s the man you fucked last night. He recognizes you but doesn’t say anything about it. Madison can guess what happened based on how you’re looking at him.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“No, it was my fault,” he chuckles.
“Come, Dr. Reid. I’ll show you to Criminal Justice 101.”
“Wait, you’re teaching that class?” you ask, stopping the two men from leaving.
“Yeah.”
Madison grabs your shoulders and grins at Dr. Reid.
“Lucky for us, we’re your students.”
“Can’t wait,” he chuckles.
The Dean leaves expecting Dr. Reid to follow but the young doctor leans closer to you so you’re the only one who hears him.
“It’s a shame you covered them up. I’ll just have to make more.”
Your mouth drops open as he jogs to catch up with the Dean. You’re totally fucked. It’ll make class more interesting though.
x
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Summary | Spencer is tired, so tired. He knows only one thing could possibly cheer him up. His sweet girl.
Index | Kinda sub Spencer, he's tired and want's to be taken care of, you're more than happy to do that, smut, unprotected sex, love confessions lol, they're perfect for each other, established relationship, pinning, cute shit.
There are so many thoughts in Spencer’s brain, there always is. It’s impossible for them to slow down, he’s always so busy. Even when he’s not working, he’s thinking about the next case, the next degree, the next time he’ll be called into office for a dire case. It’s exhaustive and it feels impossible to just breathe for more than a moment. His morale started to slip, work becoming messy, cases blurring together, memory almost shot.
Until he met you, everything was hard, until he met you. It was an accident, technically. His morning coffee cafe wasn’t open, forcing him to break his routine that he’s had for months. As soon as he spotted you, the new (and out of his way) cafe instantly became his new favorite. Smart and kind, the sweetest smile always worn on your face. He swears you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, always ignoring you whenever you point out his multiple PHDs and ever continuous education journey.
You force him to look at things differently, not really trying to, but you do. It’s refreshing, it’s amazing to him how it works, a breath of fresh air. Since he’s realized the difference in himself when he’s with you, he’s fallen head over heels. Your apartment is small and cozy, warm lighting and blankets everywhere. He’s at your apartment more than he is his own, feels more at home.
You ease his mind, make everything easier. He can just be himself around you without any worry about needing to prove something. He can relax for the first time in what feels like years. It almost kills him to have to go away for cases, kills him even more when the cases last weeks or months. He spares you almost all the details, much like Garcia whenever he can. It’s not what you signed up for. Even when you ask, he only really tells you public knowledge. He keeps you separate from his work, he needs you separate from his work. His sweet girl, he’d like to keep it that way.
Spencer’s exhausted, beyond exhausted he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he’s been away from you for this long, the last time he’s truly felt this horrible. His shoulders are heavy, eye bags growing from the exhausting 3 weeks he’s had. Kill, after kill, after kill, with no motive, no tracts, no suspects. He felt like a newbie again at the BAU, unable to track down their unsub. It feels like he’s failing everyone and himself, it was beginning to tear him down.
Nightmare after nightmare, he was almost unable to sleep for the three weeks he’s been gone. The day they found the unsub, he almost cried with relief. The entire team almost cried, really. Generally he’s not emotional by any means, tries to stay objective in his work, but this time he just couldn’t. He’s happy, thrilled, to be home despite admittedly being a bit dishevelled from the trip. Unshaven, worn down, exhausted, eye bags, the list goes on and on.
You’ve missed him too, but you’ve tried to keep your calling and texting at bay so as to not distract him from his work. As he makes his way home, you almost bubble with excitement. The door is loud as it unlocks, heavy click overpowering the soft instrumental vinyl that was filling the silence. Your feet run to meet him at the door, more than excited. The door opens, revealing a tired Reid. It’s the worst you’ve seen him in awhile, maybe in over a year you think.
You’ve known Spencer for a while now, seen arguably the worst sides of him. This isn’t quite that, but it is pretty close to it. The slouch and far-out look tells you almost everything you need to know.
“Oh, Spence.” You call to him softly, watching as his feet don’t move, eyes taking you in as you cautiously approach him as if he were a wounded animal. He doesn’t say anything, watching as you reach for his shoulders. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand, hands gently cupping his face and thumbs gently rubbing his cheeks as you comfort him. “Come, step inside.” You almost whisper, gently pulling him inside by his hands, warm.
A small smile grows on his face as you take off his suit jacket, palms massaging his shoulders and biceps as you do so. You sway softly to the music, almost dancing into the kitchen as you pull him along. “Let’s eat, Spence.” You smile, sitting him down first. At this level, you easily reach his temple where you place a soft kiss. You don’t have to, but you’re more than happy to prepare a plate for Spencer. The music is comforting, the two of you sitting close, your foot brushing against his leg when you cross your legs.
You happily clean up after the two of you, dancing around the kitchen as you entertain Spencer in the meantime. “How’re you feeling?” You hum, Spencer’s arms wrapping around your waist as you stand directly in front of him. He easily pulls you forward into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder as you do so.
“Better.” It’s all you need, all he needs to say. He’s putty in your hands as you softly pull him forward and off the kitchen bench, easily leading him to the shower.
He’s so grateful for you, he thinks silently, to himself. He’s never felt like this for someone, and for the longest time, he was afraid he just couldn’t. He could never understand wanting someone with you everyday of the year, living in the same space, sharing everything. The thought used to make him nauseous. The thought of being with someone intimately used to make his skin crawl. But with you, it’s different, everything is different.
He craves coming home to you, craves your touch after a long day, craves hearing your voice, craves your presence, craves your intimacy. He melts in your hold, his brain is able to finally shut off after a long day. All the thoughts, running miles a minute, goes away.
He feels like he could cry as you run a shower for him, gently unbuttoning his white button up, fiddling with his belt to take off his pants, kissing his skin better, unknowingly healing him. “Y/n, please shower with me.” He mumbles, kicking his shoes and pants off, undressing the rest of the way. He steps in, watching as you undress before quickly joining him.
“I’ve been worried about you, pretty boy.” You smile as you step inside, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. He’s tired and homesick, obviously so as he sinks into you.
“I know, I know,” He nods along, hands sliding up to hold your head in his palms. “I’m okay, I promise.” Spencer smiles, gently kissing your forehead, back down to your cheeks, and finally connecting your lips. You immediately return the kiss, desperate for his touch, his lips on yours.
“I know you are.” You smile, mumbling against his lips. Spencer smiles too, pulling you deeper into the kiss, closer to his body. You can’t help the small moan that slips when you feel him against you, shaky hands pu\lling him closer roughly by his back.
“It’s always the best coming back to you, though,” Spencer almost groans into your mouth, making you weak in the knees as he does so. “I can hold my own, but there’s nothing better than coming home to you.”
“Spence, we gotta clean you up,” You almost whimper at your own words, sadly pulling away from him. “Had a rough couple of weeks.” Spencer just nods along, allowing you to do as you please. He’d let you do anything, always. He melts as your hands meet his hair, shampooing and conditioning. He doesn’t melt when you wash his body, quite the opposite as his skin burns hot as your hands rub along his body.
“Please,” Spencer whines, quickly doing the same for you. He needs to get out of this before he loses his mind, he thinks. As soon as you’re both clean, his lips almost slam against yours, needy, almost desperate. “I’ve missed you so much,” He whines, complaining.
“Come, Spence.” You mumble, lips against his shoulder as you talk to him. Your face and ears are burning hot, wanting to get out of the shower quickly. Spencer follows you without a hitch, quickly wrapping the both of you in fizzy towels as he places another kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve missed you, Spencer.” You smile at him, walking backwards out of the bathroom. He follows happily, a tired smile painted across his features. A towel hangs low on his waist as he follows.
“I’m really tired, hun, I won’t lie.” Spencer mumbles as he sits down on the bed, fluffy towel becoming loose when his grip leaves it. A whimper leaves his lips when you straddle his hips, core bare as you lower your weight. He can feel your warmth, mind growing fuzzy almost immediately as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. You don’t make a move to hurry things up, only tucking his hair behind his ears as you glance over his face.
“So pretty, Spencer.” You mumble as you talk to him, continuing to play with his hair. “I’ll do the work, I just want you to feel good. Feel good after being away for so long, working so hard,” You mumble against his shoulder as you kiss it. Your town easily falls backwards off of your shoulders, leaving you bare on top of Spencer. “You gonna let me do that? Gonna be good?”
“Yes, yes please.” Spencer mumbles, roughly connecting your lips. His grip tangles in your hair, pulling as close as he possibly can. You whine into his mouth, hips grinding against him, so close yet so far, chest pressed flush against his own. You lift yourself onto your knees, pulling at Reid’s towel to move it off of his lap. You drop your weight back down as soon as possible, grinding against Reid’s cock, easily slipping through your folds.
“Want you, miss you so much,” You complain, for no particular reason. You know Spencer is more than happy to give you what you want, almost wants it just as badly. “I want it.”
“Take it, sweet girl, take it.” He groans into your mouth, sloppily kissing you as if his life depends on it. His palms knead at your flesh, touching and holding everything you can reach. You whimper when his hands knead your inner thighs, so close to where you need him the most. “Need it just as bad. I’ve missed you so much, love you so much.”
Your hips lift up, Spencer helping you out the slightest as he lines up his cock for you. Your legs shake as you sink back down, hips connecting with a small slap. You both share a moan, needy hands pulling one another as close as physically possible. Spencer throbs as you grind against his cock, completely inside you, clit rubbing against his skin. It doesn’t feel that good to him, but watching you shake and whimper is almost enough to get him off.
“I love you, Spencer.” You mumble, finally building the strength to lift yourself up, bouncing on his cock. You know exactly what Spencer likes, what he wants, moving exactly how he needs you to. You know where he’s sensitive, how to get him to tick. As you kiss his neck and squeeze around him, he swears he can stay here forever with you. He wants to stay forever, not here, maybe not this specifically, but with you. He wants to be with you, forever.
“Y/N, I- oh fuck,” Spencer whines as you speed up, desperately chasing his moans, wanting to hear him. He feels embarrassingly close already, all of his senses full of you. You’re so tight and warm, goosebumps spreading across his skin. “Y/N, will you, uh, I want-” His words break off as he moans, feeling his abs tighten up as he fights off the urge to cum. To combat it, his fingers dip in between your bodies, gently rubbing circles into your sensitive clit.
“Spencer, oh fuck.” You whine, tightening around him even more. “Gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” You bite softly into his chest, whimpers muffled by his skin.
“Marry me,” Spencer whines, voice muffled and whiny. You don’t register his words, focused on the way his fingers rub circles into your clit, his other hand roughly guiding your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock, vice grip around him. Your thighs are shaking, teetering on the edge that you’re so close to falling off of. “Y/N, marry me.” Spencer's hands stop your movement entirely, giving you no stimulation as he holds your hips flush to his.
“I-Spence, you’re mean-”
“Marry me, Y/N.” He cuts you off, not listening to the way you’re about to call him all sorts of names. “I love you so, so much. So perfect to me, Y/N. I want to be with you, forever. Please, marry me. I promise I’ll ask you in a cheesy, over the top way later, and we can say that was the official proposal. I never want to come home to anyone else but you.”
“Spencer,” You can’t help the whine that struggles to escape your lips, squeezing around him even tighter. His grip doesn’t let up, holding you completely still. “This is a bit crazy to ask when I was about to cum all over your cock.” You giggle, hands coming to hold his face as your mind begins to clear just the slightest bit. “You know that, right?”
“I-I know. I was just thinking-” He starts, releasing his grip on you once he realizes your plight, allowing you to grind against him for some sort of stimulation.
“You do that, a lot.” You giggle softly, biting back the moans as you move on top of him.
“You do so much for me. It’s like, like when I’m with you, my brain quiets down. I don’t have to worry, don’t have to think a hundred miles a minute. I can just be me, when I’m with you.” Spencer rambles on, brows creasing as you speed up your movement, desperate to get there once again. “I can let you take care of me, love being around you.”
“Spence, we’re gonna look back at this and laugh.” You giggle as you grind against his cock. Spencer goes back to rubbing tight circles against your clit, moaning when you tighten around him again, beginning to move up and down.
“So, I’ll take that as a no th-”
“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll marry you, my pretty boy.” You grin hard, watching as his face completely lights up, matching your giant smile. A giant squeal escapes when he quickly flips the two of you over, your back hitting the bed before you can protest. “Spencer! I thought you were tired.” You laugh, immediately being shut up when his hips begin to move.
“I was.” Spencer smiles, hips driving forward into you. You’re already so close, so worked up, that the change in position almost sends you over. “Now I have a fiance, it’s a bit exciting, you see.” Spencer laughs at your circumstance, all of the wit wiped clean as you mewl and moan underneath him. He does his best to sooth the shake in your thighs, hands rubbing the soft skin underneath them, hips never slowing. Like you, he knows what you like, exactly what you like, his memory doesn’t allow him to forget it.
“You- oh fuck,” You whimper as he rubs ghost like circles into your clit, not needing much more stimulation and he knows that.
“Come for me, please. Wanna feel you, want to hear it, need it Y/N.” He groans, leaning forward to kiss you, sloppy and messy. You’re trapped underneath him, the weight somehow overwhelming and exactly what you need. At the change of angle, his cock hits exactly where you need him, hips grinding against your clit with each movement.
“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer, coming.” You whimper, hands reaching for his back, scratching and pulling him closer. You’re almost impossible to push into as you cum, so sensitive and aroused that you clench so tightly around him. He whimpers into your skin, finally coming unraveled as it all catches up to him as well.
“Good girl, so good.” Spencer groans into your skin. “Gonna cum for you, okay?” You nod eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist as you pull him close.
“Cum inside, Spence, my sweet fiance.” You whine, thighs shaking from overstimulation. The name makes him fold, the way it slips so easily from your lips making him melt instantly.
“Cumming, cumming.” He whines, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he does. You can’t help but whine with him, clit so sensitive that it’s almost driving you crazy.
“Spencer,” You whine loudly, legs tightening to stop his movement completely. You’re too sensitive, it’s too much for you. “I love you.” You mumble, pulling him in for a kiss.
“Love you, so much, the most.” Spencer mumbles, words soft and sincere as he speaks. Your legs slowly unwrap, sore and tired as you finally rest them. He’s moving slow as well, trudging into the bathroom for a damp towel to clean the two of you up. He’s almost sluggish by the time he’s done, tossing the towel into the bathroom without even really looking. You almost expect it as he collapses next to you, completely spent with his legs hanging off the bed.
You giggle softly, rolling your eyes at the dramatics as he finally fully crawls into bed. You crawl next to him, propped up onto your elbow as you look down. “So, we're gonna tell our friends you asked me to marry you while balls deep?” You laugh almost directly into his face, hand coming to push hair behind his ear.
“No.” It’s stern and final, no arguments accepted. At this, you laugh loudly.
“C’monn, it would be funny, Morgan would love it.”
“That’s exactly why I’m scared. Listen, let’s sleep, before I rethink this decision.” He jokes dryly, a smile on his face when you finally give it up. You pull him close, cuddling into his side.
“You’d never.”
“You’re right.” He hums, eyes falling shut. “I love you too much.”
hotch knew something was up all day, but you refused to talk about it.
you’re hiding in garcia’s lair while she had gone to find her boyfriend, kevin, when hotch finds you curled up in her chair, crying.
the way you sniffle despite his sudden entrance is embarrassing.
he clearly wasn’t expecting to find you here, probably expecting the tech wizard, penelope.
"look, something is clearly bothering you. you can't hide it from me." you avoid his eyes, expecting them to be stern and commanding as usual, not knowing that there was a gentleness to this exchange.
"what's wrong?" he asks, clearly concerned but trying not to show it "you've been quiet for days." he leans against the table, crossing his arms over his chest "talk to me,”
"i'm not going to force you." he tells you softly "but I want you to know that i'm here when you're ready." be takes a deep breath, his eyes softening slightly as he looks at you "i'm worried about you."
"uou look like you haven't slept in days." he says, his voice low "your eyes are sunken in, and your skin looks.. i dont know, you just need help. i'm not sure what's wrong, but I want you to know that I'm here for you."
"you're stubborn,” he admits with a small smile at your lack of response, "but even you can't deny that something is off." he hesitates for a moment, then decides to push slightly harder "is it work? personal?”
your lack of response and the nonstop tears falling seem to concern him more as he continues,
"well, I can't make it better on my own. but what I can do is make sure you take care of yourself." He says firmly "that means getting enough sleep, eating properly, and drinking lots of fluids."
"i know you can be stubborn, but please don't push me away." he says softly "I just want to help." he leans in slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of understanding or agreement "deal?"
you hold out your pinky, not trusting your voice to speak right now. he links his much thicker pinky around yours, bringing it to his lips, and stamping it with a kiss, and you do the same.
"that's how jack an' me do pinky promises," he clarifies.
"alright, then." he sighs, knowing it might be a battle but promising himself he'd fight for your wellbeing "let's start with now. if you refuse to go home, come sleep on the couch in my office.”
before you can refuse, he adds,
“i’ll close the blinds.”
"okay'boss" you manage to whisper before he pulls you to your feet, wrapping you in his arms, promising safety, and maybe even love.
Hiiii. I hope ur ok with my just constantly being like *ahem* spencer reid 👉🏻👈🏻🥹🥹. I loved how you wrote him in the last request! I feel like a lot of the time, people write him very ooc - just bc he can be hard to get written the right way, but like that's my boy, look at him spitting random facts for HOURS 🥰🥰?? Like yes, pls info dump on me while I stare at u lovingly, Spence 💞.
I recently came to terms with being ftm, but it's almost impossible to find any male! reader x Spencer Reid content. Which can be very dysphoric 😵💫. Which sucks! Bc holy hell, there are some fuckinnn amazing writers out there writing fanfics.
So now, I have come to you, an amazing writer out here writing fanfics, to beg ask if ud be down to write any kind of oneshot with Spencer Reid dating a male reader! It honestly doesn't have to be anything specific - romantic, angsty, enemies to lovers, slow burn, whatever peaks ur interest atm!
I would just love, love to have that content with Spence & a male reader if you're down for the task! Thank you so so muchh 💓. Hope ur having a wonderful morning / afternoon / evening !
A/N:im sorry this took so long!! I’ve been busy working (blegh) and I wanted to write something sweet for you!! I’m happy you’ve come to terms with being ftm!! As a cis identifying person myself I can’t say that I know how it feels, but I am VERY happy that you’re more comfortable with your identity!! Also never worry about being too “crazy” over Spencer I’ve been obsessed with him since I was about 5 or 6 (yes it’s been a long time)!! I’ll try more to write in a more gender neutral way when writing anything reader insert related that way you can enjoy my writing without feeling left out or anything!! Always let me know if there are things I can do better <3
Tw: maybe some cursing but overall should be wholesome
Wc: 0.54k
Criminal Minds Masterlist
Spencer Reid often came home dejected after a case gone wrong, it was often that he came home tired but happy after a successful case. It wasn’t often, however, that he came home excited for a break; but then again he hadn’t had a boyfriend to come home to on previous breaks. Now, as you watch him walk through the front door of your shared apartment, you can’t help but grin at the absolutely goofy look on his face.
“Emily gave us all 4 weeks off to rest after our latest case, so that means I get four WHOLE weeks of you to myself! Isn’t that great?” He lets out a giggle after he finishes speaking, putting his bag down on the kitchen counter. You didn’t even have to ask him why he was so giddy, he answered unprompted.
“It is great!” You try to match his energy, only seeing him this excited for the first time since you’ve met. He brings you into his embrace, hugging you so tightly that you think you might die if he squeezed you any tighter. “So what are your plans now that you’re a free man for four whole weeks?”
“Well we could go to the park and play chess, or stay here and play chess but I think the sunlight would be good for both of us. Or we could go to the movies, or take a class together, or…”
“Your plans are to just have dates with me every single day?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow.
He nods as if the answer is the most obvious, concrete fact in the universe. He looks at you, not as if you’re dumb, but as if to say ‘duh what else would I be planning to do?’.
The two of you move to sit on the couch, enveloped in each other as he talks about the many, many dates you’re going to go on now that he’s free from his time constricting job. “What if I don’t wanna do those things?” You ask playfully. He shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter what we do, as long as I get to do it with you”.
“Oh?” You look at him as if he said something scandalous, “I didn’t know you had that big of a crush on me.”
He shoves you gently, rolling his eyes at your attempt to joke off his sweet words.
“You’re joking but studies have found that couples who have regular date nights more often result in higher relationship satisfaction, better communication, and a stronger emotional connection. Us going on dates during these four weeks will be better for us in the long run.”
You don’t reply, or interrupt. It’s always amusing to listen to him ramble on and on about facts that he finds interesting or applicable to the conversation. And all it does is make you fall more in love with him, seeing how serious he is about your relationship working out in the future. He says that he loves you often, but it’s things like this; seeing and listening to how much he genuinely cares about your relationship.
Being the boyfriend of a pretty boy genius has its perks, and how much he cares about you compared to others is definitely one of them.
