About: While having sex with you, Spencer grabs your panties and sniffs them.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, perverted!spencer series, panty fetish, panty sniffing, p in v, pathetic spencer, etc.
Word Count: 1k
AO3
A/N: The second part to my Kinktober 2025! Originally was gonna be posted a different week but decided to post it now hehehe. Stay tuned for the next fic! Please support your fanfic writers!
You knew exactly how it had come to this, to you lying in Spencer's bed as he fucked you like a mad man.
It had began all those years ago, back when you both had only been working at the BAU a few years. He had always harbored an attraction towards you and you to him. He became your best friend, the one you trusted with any and every aspect of your life. And you were his as well.
There were moments, however, throughout the years that had made you realize that Spencer had at least physical feelings towards you. On cases where you had to share a hotel room with him, a pair of your panties would go missing. Or when you'd bring him shopping with you so that you could get his opinion on the clothes, he couldn't help but run to the bathroom when you'd choose something more revealing. There were also times when you guys would sleep over at one another's apartments, falling asleep cuddled up next to one another. And in the morning, you'd hear Spencer in the shower and the rhythmic sound of water falling as he stroked his cock, thinking you were still asleep.
About a week ago, you had gone to Spencer's apartment, surprising him with his favorite Indian take-out. You had knocked on the door a few times but there was no answer. However, you knew there was no other place he'd be and being his amazing best friend, you had a spare key. And so, you had let yourself into the apartment, bringing the food into the kitchen before making your way to Spencer's bedroom.
What you hadn't expected once you reached his room, however, was seeing him with his cock in his fist and a pair of your black panties held up to his face. You only knew they were yours because you had lost them while on a case awhile back and couldn't find them.
You couldn't help the strong arousal that formed inside of you as you had watched the scene in front of you. Your eyes were wide in shock, seeing your best friend in such a vulnerable position. Wetness pooled in between your thighs and in that moment, you decided to be a great best friend and provide a helping hand.
That day, you gave Spencer the ride of his life.
And now, here you were a week later, back in his apartment, getting fucked like your life depended on it.
The two of you had just gotten back from a long case in Rhode Island. It was annoying and seemed as though it wasn't going anywhere, leaving everyone on the team wound up and stressed. And when you guys finally caught the guy, it felt like a miracle. The moment you had landed back in Virginia, you and Spencer couldn't wait to get your hands on one another.
"Spencer!" You moaned loudly, eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure. You were lying on Spencer's bed, pillow underneath your head, while Spencer thrusted into you rather desperately.
"O-oh fuck," Spencer stuttered, his cock moving in and out of your tight cunt with ease. "You're so fucking wet," he groaned, burying himself deep inside of you with each thrust.
"You feel so good," you whined, gripping the sheets below you.
Spencer moaned in response, not shying away from making noises like most men tend to do. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, keeping you still as he pounded you. "I want to smell you," he practically whimpered out as he reached next to you, grabbing your panties from off the bed and bringing them to his nose.
You gasped as you watched the scene in front of you. It shouldn't turn you on as much as it did. Spencer was buried inside of you, had already eaten you out prior to dicking you down, and he wanted more? Part of you thought you should've been offended. But instead, you clenched your walls around Spencer's cock as you watched him sniff your underwear.
His thrusts became more messy as he got lost in your scent in and the pleasure of your cunt. You were already so close from the feeling of Spencer's cock hitting your g-spot so nicely. "O-oh fuck," you mewled, your grip tightening on the sheets below you. "I-I'm so close, Spencer."
Spencer responded with a muffled moan. The room was filled with the sound of Spencer's cock moving in and out of your pussy and the the sound of skin slapping together with how hard Spencer's thrusts were.
Spencer's hair was sticking to his forehead as sweat accumulated between the two of you. It wasn't long until you were calling out his name so prettily and whorish, body shaking as your orgasm overcame you. Spencer followed along quickly after, letting out an accumulation of whines, moans, and your name as he buried himself deep inside of you and filled you up with his cum.
After a little while, when you both came down from your highs, Spencer tossed your panties somewhere in the room before pulling out and laying beside you.
You bit your lip as you looked up at the ceiling. Silence overcame the two of you as harsh breaths filled the room from your intense session. You glanced at Spencer, who had a glazed post-orgasmic look in his eye. "So," you cleared your throat. "Do you have a panty fetish?" You asked, looking at Spencer with a teasing smirk.
Spencer glanced at you, unable to help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "I-uh-I suppose so," he said, licking his lips. "Is that-uh is that alright?"
You giggled and nodded your head. "Yeah, it is."
Truly, it was. Because Spencer looked pathetic sniffing your panties while fucking you. And you loved a pathetic man.
۶ৎ in which you and Spencer join forces to babysit both Jack and Henry.
who? spencer x bau!reader
when? s6
genre: novella
content warnings: not proofed, contains nothing but pure fluff, reader and spencer get mistaken as Jack and Henry's parents... reid with warmth !!
word count: 4.9k
a/n: first novella fic whaaaa....i've been wanting to write this one for a while, but i knew it wouldn't be that long, so this is perfect for my first novella fic!!; enjoy!
The morning was cold and frosty, and the only thing able to mend it: a large, hot latte. Hotch approached your desk as you set your things down. He leaned over and whispered conspicuously, “Are you sure you can come tonight?”
You rolled your eyes and whispered back, just as secretive, and perhaps some more to show how dramatic he was being, “Yes, Hotch,” you saluted him, “Jack will be in good hands.”
A gruff sound came from his throat–as if signifying his disbelief, “If you say so, do you remember what time?”
“Hotch?”
He looked around, glancing back at you with pressed lips. “Yeah?”
“I got this,” you pushed his hand–gripping your desk–off.
“Right,” he nodded, “no I know.”
You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “so why are you stalling? Is this about your date? Because if you don’t want to go–”
“No,” he dusted his suit off, “I’m–I’m walking away.”
“Uh-huh,” you biot back a smile, feeling Spencer slide up next to you, “and what was that all about?” He kept his inquisitive gaze on your boss.
“Hotch had a date,” you stated, turning to look at him, “I’m babysitting Jack.”
He raised his eyebrows and nodded–but when Penelope called you to the roundtable room and you began to walk away with her, you could hear him mutter, “Why didn’t he ask me?”
JJ rushed in, she apologized for being late as she took her seat. The team watched her; she was flushed, but her face showed clear urgency. She rolled her eyes, “Please do not question me today, I already have enough explaining to do.”
It was silent, but then you just couldn’t help yourself, “...JJ?” She looked at you with a slight warning, but you still asked, “What happened?”
The air in the room evaporated as JJ sucked in a breath, then deflated against her chair, throwing her head back, “Henry’s babysitter quit this morning.” You kept quiet, waiting for her to elaborate. “Will and I were going to go out tonight, we’ve been planning this for weeks now.” she huffs, running a hand through her hair.
Spencer caught your eyes, and though you shook your head, knowing it’d be a bad idea, he still said, “Well, hey, you know I could watch him for you–if you still wanted to go.”
JJ raised a brow and began to shake her head slowly, “I don’t know, Spence–”
“I wouldn’t be alone,” you noted Hotch raising an eyebrow as Spencer motioned toward you, “— is watching Jack, we could babysit them together.”
JJ glanced at you, then at Hotch–hopeful, “Would you both be okay with that?”
Hotch eyed Spencer’s grin for a moment, “Fine, but — has to keep an eye on Reid too.”
“Uh–what?” Spencer threw his arms up, “I’m a great babysitter–are you laughing?” He glared slightly at Morgan.
“Sure you are,” you reached over and patted the top of his hand, you held his gaze for a split second–the both of you trying to hold in your laughter.
You could hear giggling inside. Jack clung to Hotch, he was eight, and yet he still adored his father. The night was young, but starting to grow darker. Today, you had only been called to air a case, so you worked from the office, which you didn’t have the pleasure of doing most days, making it pretty unique.
“Oh, hey guys,” Spencer called, walking up behind you. You frowned, noting his relaxed attire.
“And I didn’t think you owned anything but sweater vests.”
“Oh–you just had to comment.” He sighed.
“That I did,” you nodded, “that I did.”
The front door opened right as Hotch checked his wristwatch, “you guys made it!”
“Would you believe it? Hotch hasn’t canceled yet.”
Your boss glared at you, but your remark earned chuckles from the others, “Yep, and I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”
JJ stepped out of the house and moved aside, “come on in.” Henry popped his little head out from behind Will and motioned for Jack to follow.
Hotch leaned to the side, eyes only leaving Jack once the boys disappeared behind a corner. “Okay,” JJ approached you, hands on your shoulders, “I am trusting you.”
“Hey–uhm Hi!” Spencer waved, sticking his head over your shoulder, “I’m here too.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m telling her to be careful.”
After a bit of teasing Spencer, Hotch, Will, and JJ left in their cars. “Come, on, it’s freezing out here,” you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your zip-up.
“Let the night begin…”
Spencer stayed, feet glued to the floor for a moment as he watched you wander into the house. He couldn’t help the small smile that grazed his face; he covered it with a hand, closing the door behind him.
Inside you were asking the boys what they wanted to do. Hotch had picked you up from your apartment and you, him, and Jack drove over together–so when Henry suggested the movie theatre, you could only glance at Spencer, wondering if he’d be willing to drive.
He huffed, rolled his eyes, and fell back on the couch in the living room. “We can see what movies are playing, I guess.”
You huffed a laugh and gripped the couch with both hands as you learned over it, watching Jack and Hnery jump on top of Spencer.
“Okay, okay.” He pushed Henry’s foot out of his face and shot you a look when he heard you cover up a snort with a cough.
Upon scrolling through the nearest movie theatre, you found the newest Spider-Man movie was playing, but you had already missed the 7 o’clock one and the next showing was at 8:30. You, Spencer, and the boys agreed to that time, which left you about an hour before you had to leave. Spencer offered to pay and though you had debated with him about going half–he insisted.
You agreed, but only if he let you pay for the snacks. Spencer wasn’t a boyfriend and he wasn’t one of the girls, so it felt weird letting him pay for everything. He was older than you yes, but only by a couple of years, and though you had to remind him of that several times, he never once failed to pull that card over on you.
“What’s that?” Spencer motioned toward the bag you had brought–that you were now unloading on the kitchen counter.
“Ingredients,” you shrugged, “it isn’t real babysitting if you don’t bake something.”
“You bake?” He sat up, throwing something on the television to distract the boys before he made his way toward you.
You brushed it off, “Somewhat.”
“Okay,” he nodded, rounding the counter and meeting your hip with his, “so what are we baking tonight?”
“We?” You raised a brow. He nodded, lips forming a thin line to suppress a grin. “Oh, no,” you huffed a laugh, “we are not–do you even know kitchen etiquette?”
His face scrunched up, “I’m a quick learner.”
“Sarcastic Spencer never fails to amuse me.”
“Mmm,” he nodded, “what’s first?”
You shook your head, a grin escaping you. You snatched the butter he had picked up and smacked him on the shoulder as you went to go find a bow for it, “Wash your hands.”
“Something smells good.” Jack rounded the counter.
“That would be the cookies.” You spun around and bent to your knees, pulling the oven open.
“When’s the movie?” Henry came waddling in, Spencer not too far behind.
You glanced at him, expecting him to answer for the both of you. You smiled to yourself, pulling off the oven mitts when he said, “uh…we have about five more minutes before we should leave.”
You nodded and began searching for a container to put the cookies in, “boys, do you wanna go outside and help Uncle Spencer start the car?”
“Awesome!” Henry shouted, running off to find his coat.
“Can we really start the car?” Jack looked between you and Spencer.
“Of course,” you smiled, nodding.
“Cool,” he too ran off.
“If either of them wrecks my car, I’m holding you responsible.” He jabbed a warning finger in your direction.
You scoffed, wiping your hands on a rag, “right. Spencer, you drive a van.”
“An SUV,” he corrected.
“Yeah, well, you don’t seem the type to care about messing things up.”
He held a hand to his chest, mock hurt flashing across his face, “–and what is that supposed to mean.”
You shrugged, but a cheeky smile pulled your lips upward.
“I’ll see you in the car,” he wandered off in search of the boys. You grabbed three cookies and set them aside on a napkin.
When you walked toward the door, you found Spencer and the boys already secure in the car. You locked the door and made your way down the drive.
“I have something delicious,” you handed each boy a cookie, promising to help Spencer clean out his car if it turned out they made a mess.
You took the third cookie and bit into it. Spencer watched you and he pulled off, turning onto the street. He hit a red light when you were halfway done with it, “were you not going to offer to share?”
Your eyebrows shot up momentarily, “you like sweets?”
“Half you met me?” he shot back.
You huffed, yanking his hand from the steering wheel and toward you, placing the cookie into his hand. The light turned green, so he steered with one arm and used his other to eat the cookie. It was a darling sight, truly. You giggled when a few crumbs fell onto the floor.
“I blame you,” he muttered, his mouth full of cookies as he made his proclamation.
Spencer had bought the tickets online, so as you parked, you made a game plan with the boys. Spencer and Henry would go to the bathroom because he forgot to say something back at the house and you and Jack would stand in line. There were a few games around–and of course, the boys asked to play when they saw them–but you only had ten minutes till the movie began, so you promised when the movie was over, you’d stay a bit longer to play.
There were only three lines open and from what you could tell, pretty long. Jack stuffed his hands into his tiny jacket pockets–he looked comfortable. “Do you know what you want to get?”
He pressed his lips together and notably looked around at the freezers and small box-like shelves separating the lines. They were only about two inches higher than him, maybe three or four higher than Henry.
“I’ve never been here.” You frowned. Jack had never been to a movie theatre or he had never been to this theatre?
“What do you mean?” You stepped forward as the line moved up. A father and his daughter–probably around fourteen–stepped behind you. You took notice, but only because you’ve programmed your brain, they weren’t really important.
Jack shrugged, “What kind of snacks do they have.” You understood Jack didn’t want to speak more on the subject and because you cherished him, you dropped it–but you made a mental note to speak with Hotch about it later.
“Well, I think they have…gummy bears and–oh look–they have cornetto–personally I prefer the cup version–but that’s just me.” Jack laughed and stood on his tippy toes, trying to get a better look at the ice cream flavors.
You caught Spencer walking toward you, Henry skipping a few feet in front of him. He caught your wave and nodded toward Jack, who now stepped to the side of the counter–looking through the glass. “How much time do we have?”
Spencer checked his watch once more, his casual attire contrasting. He wore his glasses–which you absolutely adored–a pair of blue jeans substituted his normal khakis, and he wore a black hoodie with red writing on the back. He wore tenashoes instead of his work shoes and his silly socks were hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. It made you frown slightly: you couldn’t tease him about it.
“Do you want anything?” You asked as the boys began listing off candy to the cashier.
“No, I’m good.” He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the singular pocket of his hoodie.
“Wanna share a bowl of popcorn?” You pleaded and eventually, he gave in.
You asked for two smaller bowls so you could split the large bowl between you, Spencer, and the boys. Spencer physically winced when you swiped your card–you saw it happen. It sent a flutter through you and your face reddened as much as it could. You covered it up with a laugh, hoping Spencer didn’t find it weird, though the look he threw you said otherwise.
You found your seats, the boys settled in the middle of the two of you. You separated the popcorn between the boys, but then realized it’d be an issue sharing with Spencer if he was all the way on the other side, so instead, you gave him one of the smaller bowls, filled his and Hnery’s, and shared the big bowl with Jack.
You made it in time for the credits which you hated, but Spencer loved. It put a goofy smile on his face as he explained every ad,s aying how they were trying to tug at your heartstrings or logical side. “But we’re too smart, aren’t we?” He met your gaze.
The boys turned toward you, where you now adorned a serious nod, “oh, yeah, we’re way too smart to fall fo that, right boys?”
“Yep!” they nodded triumphantly.
“And why is that?” Spencer rounded the question back to him.
“Because we’re profilers,” Jack asked hesitantly.
“Exactly,” you jabbed a finger at him, messing with his hair a little. He laughed and leaned away, pushing your hand toward the popcorn bowl.
Spencer watched you–but not just your person. He wanted your actions, your facial expression, the way you interacted and spoke to Jack, the way you joked with Henry, the way you took every opportunity you could to tease him about absolutely anything.
He felt his heart tense and then fall to his stomach once he realized what was occurring. Was he falling in love? Was this what that feeling was? Was this how falling in love happened? You noticed minuscule, insignificant things about a person like the way they laughed? Or the way smiled? You analyzed them so thoroughly that you could tell what they would say before they said it. Or know the action they’re about to take before they make it?
He couldn’t tell. Spencer had never been in love before. He had never fallen in love. But was that what this was? He didn’t have a definitive answer, he just knew he wanted to be closer. To you. To you in every way. He wanted you to want to be close to him and he wondered if that was love.
Because if it was, wouldn’t that mean he’d already fallen? But it didn’t feel right. It felt…like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he had been searching for an answer he knew was somewhere in his brain, but hadn’t figured it out until just now.
The movie played and he tried his best to watch it–he grasped the general concept, but he was more focused on, well, you.
Did he love you? Could he say that with genuine confidence? He wouldn’t know until he tried it out, but he couldn’t. Because what if he didn’t? What if what he felt for you was simply pure friendship–he’d be making a crucial mistake, one) if you didn’t like him you’d be weirded out and if you did he chanced hurting you, two) you worked together, that was an issue in and of itself.
He jumped when you stood, watching as you stretched. “What?” You raised a brow, a tired smile forming you mouth.
He found himself smiling back, his stomach flipping, “nothing. Just…tired.”
“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, yawning, “me too. We should head back now, it’s pretty late. We need to take them baths.”
“Yeah,” Spencer glanced at Jack, who was now standing, and Henry, who was fast asleep in his seat.
Spencer tried waking him slightly, but he wasn’t budging, “just carry him,” you suggested.
Deciding it was the only option, Spencer gripped Henry’s armpits and heaved him upward as gently as he could. You watched him as he laid Hnery’s head on his shoulder, the boy snuggling into the crook of his neck, hugging your coworker tightly.
“Awww,” you sounded like Penelope but you didn’t care, this was too cute a moment not to capture. Whipping out your phone, you ignored Spencer’s pleas and snapped multiple photos from every angle.
Heading to the lobby of the theatre, you nudged Jack, “I’m guessing you don’t want to play some of the games anymore?”
Jack shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “no. m’just tired.”
You nodded, pulling him into your side as you walked, “Me too, buddy, me too.”
You passed an elderly couple on the way out, Henry slightly waking up when the cold air hit his face. “Are we home?” He asked.
The elderly couple snickered and said, “You’re a cute family.”
You opened your mouth to correct the woman, but her husband added, “You look just like we did, don’t they?” before you could. He turned to his wife, made clear by the matching rings.
“Oh, they do,” then she bent over and asked Jack, “What movie did your mommy and daddy take you to see.”
Instead of correcting the couple, Jack glanced at you, then Spencer, and grinned–though it was sleepy– “Spider-Man 2.”
“Ah, I’m afraid I haven’t seen that one, is it good?”
“Really good,” Henry answered from Spencer’s arms.
They laughed again, then apologized for keeping you and made their way inside.
You and Spencer said nothing as you made your way to the car. Jack and Henry were silent as well. You wondered just what was going through Jack’s head. Maybe he was too tired to understand or care about the women’s words. Yeah, that must have been it.
You decided you would ignore it just as you would ignore the flutter that continuously courced through you the entirety of the night.
With much prodding, you were able to get Henry into the bath. Jack didn’t take much convincing, but he assured you he could do it himself, which you shouldn’t have believed because he ended up getting shampoo into his eyes.
Spencer finished helping him, though it was hard because Jack insisted on showering. Eventually, the two boys were tucked into Henry’s twin-sized bed, and you and Spencer had a little free time before the others arrived.
You grabbed the bowl of cookies that you’d tucked on the counter near the fridge before you’d left. You meant to eat them at the kitchen counter, but Spencer wanted you to watch some movie he had put on. You would blame and hold him responsible for any crumbs that didn’t land in the bowl.
His chuckle was low and light, just like every other time you found yourself making him laugh. It sent a flutter through your chest and you had to turn away to keep from letting him know just how flustered that one sound could make you.
You shivered, you typically brought a sweater with you everywhere just in case, but you were going to JJ’s house, and you knew she’d let you borrow a few blankets.
“Where are you going?” Spencer caught your wrist as you stood. Your heart jolted and you couldn’t help but stare at it. You blinked a few times before he let go. He sucked in a breath as if you’d stung him. You weren’t sure what he meant by that or if he meant anything at all by it. Spencer was normally an awkward person, but this didn’t feel like something he’d be awkward about, in fact, Spencer would never be put in this situation simply because Spencer hated physical contact.
Maybe that’s why he had such a reaction. You brushed it off, letting a shy smile replace the longing frown, “Just the hall closet to find a blanket…want one?”
Spencer shook his head and wanting to escape the atmosphere, you bottled toward the hall. You retrieved the first blanket on top. It was white with little blue bunnies. Cute. You thought, it must be Henry’s.
“I’m back,” you hopped on the couch, keeping a cushion between the two of you, for fear of making him uncomfortable.
He declined your offer of a cookie and opted to lean back. It might have just been your imagination, but you were sure Spencer kept sneaking glances at you. You thought he must be bored, he’d put on a '90s romcom. Though you loved the, you were surprised when Spencer put it on. But then maybe he put it on for you and that’s why he kept glancing at you.
You huffed under a cookie, that’s so like him.
Halfway through the movie, you’d discarded the bowl of cookies with four left and began to feel the lights dim. Or maybe it was just you. You took a moment and laid your head back but it was uncomfortable. As you shifted on the couch, a yawn escaped you.
Spencer caught it, attention now fully focused on you, he smiled at your dreary state. He moved one leg under him and without really thinking much about it–if it’d make you uneasy or not–he took you by the shoulders and lowered your head into his lap. You noticed, but barely. He pulled the blanket over you as your arms wrapped around his thigh. Your head snuggled into him and when a satisfactory hmm released itself from your throat, he snorted a little.
He loved you, or at least he thought he did. Spencer had never loved anyone. Well, he loved his mom, but he knew he was programmed that way. He loved quantum physics and math and chemistry and psychology, but those were very broad terms, and still not a being. He liked cats, but he couldn’t love a cat–well, he could–but that was a different discussion.
You, on the other hand, he always wanted to be around. You, on the other hand, he always wanted to talk to. You, he fell asleep thinking about; you, he dreamt about; you, he woke up to.
You were always on his mind, there was no way around it. In every conversation–though he rarely voiced it–he could always draw back to you. Penelope bought a new pink fluffy pen? You loved pens. Dereck couldn’t sleep at night because of his neighbor. You could sleep anywhere–it was a skill. Spencer couldn’t sleep at all, really, and when he did–well, he’d already know what he’d dream about.
He couldn’t escape you–but well, he didn’t want to.
The biggest evidence of his feelings for you? He hated–absolutely loathed–the thought of you talking to/dating/marrying anywhere else. He made a face, the thought disgusted him;; it made him sick.
The front door unlocking jolted him out of his thoughts… how long had he sat there watching you? Going back and forth in is mind? His mind began wondering and the lights began to fade. His shoulder drooped and he began pushing you backward, fixing you until you were both comfortable.
“Just for…a bit…” he yawned before the lights went out.
Spencer jerked when he heard the front door unlock. He was always keenly aware of his surroundings–it was a bad habit he picked up in his years at the BAU.
JJ and Will stepped through the door as quietly as they could, the credits were rolling. The movie must have just ended. 48 minutes?
“Hey–” JJ whispered walking toward him.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but was weighed down, and upon looking–found you still sound asleep. He smiled, but when he realized JJ could see him, he fixed it to a plain expression.
Spencer held up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes widened slightly in concern when he looked down at you. Which was ridiculous, he couldn’t stay in this position the entire night, much less on JJ’s couch. You both had work in the morning and you needed to get home. Right…but where was Hotch? How would you get home?
He was startled by your shifting movements. Upon glancing at you again, he found you stirring. JJ covered up a small laugh, and turned back to Will, shushing him as he stalked over.
“Hotch texted, he should be here soon,” JJ whispered.
Spencer nodded as you lifted your head, he raised his arms just enough for you to have free reign, if you pushed out of his hold, he’d have no choice but to let go.
But you didn’t, you pulled him closer and buried your face into where his thigh met his hip. “Five more minutes.”
JJ snatched her phone from her pocket and began snickering, “Penelope is going to love this.”
“Hey–come on, JJ–don’t–” Spencer’s protests went ignored as JJ clicked a few photos and slipped her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans.
A knock sounded on the door not a moment later, Will went to open it while JJ sat on the arm of the couch and smiled down at her two coworkers. “Do you think she can hear us?”
Spencer opened his mouth to say no, but raised a brow and glanced at you questioningly, he wasn’t sure you knew where you were, let alone could make sense of a complete sentence. “I’m gonna go with probably not.”
They chuckled to themselves. Hotch waved, before following Will down the hall toward Henry’s room. You yawned and rolled onto your back, stretching over Spencer. “Hi,” you blinked up, a slow smile turning up your lips.
He met your sleepy gaze with one of his own, “hi,” he answered.
Hotch came back out with a very asleep Jack, calling out your name, You sighed, forcing yourself upward. “Guess I better go.”
Once again, Spencer felt his subconscious take hold of his body as he held an arm across your stomach, “I could take you…I mean I wouldn’t mind, besides,” he nodded toward Hotch and Jack, “he should get Jack home.”
JJ watched in silent awe. It was one thing for Spencer to shake hands with someone let alone hug them, so when she stepped through her doors and found you snuggled up to him, her suspicion-radar was going off. Spencer definitely had a thing for you, or at the very least felt most comfortable with you. In her mind, you were his person, and that didn’t have to be romantic, it was just how it was.
Now, though, watching his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind. Spencer Reid was in love. She wondered what kind of catastrophic event occurred for this to happen.
“You sure?” You murmured, rubbing your eyes. You were halfway leaning against his chest, and halfway using his shoulder to stay steady.
“Yeah, of course.”
Hotch seemed to get the gist of the conversation, whispered a few goodbyes, and headed out the door.
“You made cookies,” JJa noted.
“Yep, there’s four left, but they’re probably all stale now.”
“Well, maybe you two can babysit again and make me fresh ones.”
“I helped, you know,” Spencer added.
“Yeah, ‘helped’ so much I almost had to buy you a new pan.” After a good laugh, you stood and stretched, catching Spencer’s yawn, “well, it’s getting pretty late, we should head out.”
“Alright then, drive safe.”
“I’m always a safe driver.”
“I know you are, Spence.” She pressed her lips together, glancing at you, wondering if you even felt a smidgen of what Spencer felt for you.
The car ride was smooth, Spencer had been over a few times, and with his memory, he knew the way by heart. “Thanks for doing this.” You grabbed his hand as he pulled into your complex.
Spencer jolted, his head jerked down: his focus on where your hands connected. “Oh–sorry, I forgot–”
You snatched your hand away, but Spencer was quick to grab it back. “No–no it’s…” he stared at you. He could lose his mind and still be able to put a name to your eyes. They were like none he’d ever seen–which is opinionated, of course, in his mind, you were all there ever was. “It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” You frowned, “I…know how you hate people touching you.”
“Well, yeah,” he shrugged sheepishly, “but when it’s you it’s okay.”
Your heart leaped at that and maybe it was because you were half-awake and when you were half-wake you became even more delusional than you were daily. “So, you don’t mind if I touch you?”
“No, not at all.” He replied immediately as if he had been programmed to.
You couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way onto your face, “good to know.”
You opened the car door and started exiting his vehicle. “Hey, —?”
“Yeah?” You yawned again, the sky a blue-black kind of color.
“What does that mean?”
“What does what mean?” You frowned.
“You know,” he tried motioning with his hands, which only made you snort.
“Nope,” you shook your head, “no idea.” You spun around, starting the path to your apartment, “see you tomorrow, Spencer.”
Spencer frowned, he knew he would think about this the rest of the night, if he could sleep he’d probably dream about it, and when he woke up, it would most definitely be the first thing on his mind.
a/n: lol i've been working on this forever (like a month) and i cried in my maths a few days ago because i couldn't understand it–#mathisnotforme
spencer was expecting a day of solitude researching in the library during his day off, not... whatever that was.
pairings: spencer reid x librarian!reader
genre: fluff? i think
cw: swearing, fem reader, not proofread
word count: 1.4k
a/n: this is my first spencer fic! constructive criticism is welcome, please feel free to share your thoughts! this one is third person but i'd like to try out second as well :)
dividers by @cafekitsune ! thank you!
Spencer Reid does not believe in love at first sight.
Lust, sure. Infatuation, perhaps. But love?
Love was a whole other problem, an equation he knew by heart and yet had never been able to pinpoint.
It had fascinated him for years, and still did, if he was being quite honest. He's got sticky notes pressed into romance novels, quotes of descriptions underlined and highlighted, Jane Austen and Emily Bronte lining his shelves. He'd long learnt to stop asking about it. Even though it was out of pure fascination, of the drive for learning, people tended to see it as pathetic, as him grasping towards something he would never have. One too many times, he asked, "How do you know if you're in love?" And one too many times, he was met with a fond, exasperated, somewhat condescending smile.
"You just know."
You just know. What a stupid response. That's the kind of response you get from people who aren't educated enough to articulate themselves properly, Spencer thought. Or maybe they thought it was funny, to leave him in the dark. One thing that they understood that he never would. Something that they could have a leg up on, something that they could hold over his head when he had rattled off one too many statistics.
Or maybe it was him, who was too stupid to understand.
And Spencer has learned to be okay with that. It's not like he doesn't have enough to worry about, enough interests to pore over and obsess about and keep him occupied. And that's exactly what he intended to spend his weekend off on: the conceptual mathematics of the planetary system, developed by 16th and 17th century astronomer Johannes Kepler.
Now, Spencer doesn't consider this an obscure topic, per se, but it certainly isn't one that people were tripping over themselves to check books out about at the library. Which means that he's once again found himself in an abandoned aisle of the non-fiction section of the city library, leafing through a somewhat untouched biography. There's a thick layer of dust adorning the cover, and his long, thin fingers run down the pages, marking his progress through the book. And that's when he hears it.
A sneeze, followed by a loud bang, a soft curse, and some unintelligible muttering.
Spencer's curiosity is instantly piqued. A sneeze is nothing to be concerned about in the dusty shelves of the library, but the crash that had followed certainly was. He tentatively makes his way to the end of the aisle, poking his head around the corner.
Sitting on the ground, surrounded by a pile of books, is a woman. Her hair is pushed off her face with a pair of glasses, and she is haphazardly stacking the books, muttering something about how the government needed to reallocate resources and funds. Next to her lays a broken stepstool. Spencer's heart immediately starts to beat faster. She's pretty, even if her eyebrows are currently pinched in a frown.
She looks up at the noise of Spencer's footsteps, and her cheeks instantly color with embarrassment. She hops up from the ground, dusting off her hands on her pants, and offers him an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. The stepstool broke right under me. It was a faulty hinge, I think, or the screw might have been rusted..." She trails off, crouching down again to examine the stepstool.
Spencer isn't quite sure why he's still standing here. He's found the source of the noise, determined that no one was hurt, and that no one needs his help. So why can't he force his feet to move? Or his mouth to form words?
The woman looks up again, her cheeks still colored at the realization that he hasn't moved. "Uh- I'm sorry. Am I in your way, or...?" She trails off again, looking adorably confused.
Spencer snaps out of his daze. "No! No, I just- I heard the noise, and I wanted to- to make sure no one was hurt, or needed help, and honestly, I hadn't even realized that anyone else was in this section, considering it's at the back of the library and no one even really comes back here, unless they're looking for something specific, or-"
She cuts him off with a soft laugh. The most beautiful sound he's ever heard, he thinks, and quickly snaps his mouth shut. Now it's his turn to blush.
"Were you, then?" She asks, quirking an eyebrow. She's looking at him with a certain look in her eye, interest, maybe, or fascination, or maybe amusement. He can't quite tell. But she's looking at him, her full attention on his face, her gaze fixed to his eyes. There's a small smile playing at her lips. He finds that he doesn't care what she's looking at him with, as long as she keeps looking at him.
"Was I... was I what?" Spencer asks, a bit stupidly. His brain feels a bit like mush.
"Looking for something specific," she clarifies, tilting her head, flashing him a real smile. Spencer finds he can't breathe for a moment. He holds up the book he had been reading.
"Oh! Uh, yeah," he manages, nodding. "Kepler. Applied mathematics in the planetary system. This one is more of a biography, but I was hoping to find something that includes more of his conceptual work..."
She brightens, straightening up again. "I might be able to help with that, actually," she tells him, and his stomach does some kind of weird flip.
"You... know Kepler?" Spencer asks, unable to contain his excitement. His voice comes out more high pitched than he would have liked.
She laughs, her nose wrinkling. "No, no. I'm- I'm not that smart. I know the system, the organizing system? For the books." She's grinning, and Spencer can't bring himself to tell her that he has the system memorized too, of course.
"Oh, wow," he says instead, giving her a smile that he hopes doesn't look too lopsided. "That would be great."
She nods, abandoning the pile of books in the middle of the aisle, and gestures for him to follow. She walks like she's on a mission, leading him a few aisles down, and running her fingers along the spines of the books. Her hands are much smaller than his. Her nails are painted brown, Spencer notices. Understated, yet well taken care of. They match the aesthetic of the library, and he can't help but wonder what her hands would look like wrapped around his own-
"Here we are!" She says brightly, tugging a book off of the shelf. "I think the whole shelf here is on conceptual mathematics, but this one looks like it's on planetary alignment specifically. Um-" Her brow furrows for a second, and she pulls a second book from the shelf. "I recognize this author, I know he gets a lot of circulation..." She looks over at Spencer quizzically, and Spencer realizes he hasn't said a word.
"Yeah, these are perfect," he tells her earnestly, taking the books from her hands. Their fingers brush for a fraction of a second, and Spencer can't help the blush that creeps up his neck. "I'm Spencer, by the way. Spencer Reid."
He's rewarded with a name. Her name. He rolls it around in his mind, and decides he likes the way it fits into his brain.
"It's nice to meet you," she says, extending a hand for him to shake. He opens his mouth to give his usual spiel about pathogens, but his words die in his throat. Would that be weird to say? He wonders. I don't want her to think that I'm odd. I could just suck it up this once, and besides, there was a bathroom on the way in. I could just shake her hand, and go find the bathroom, and wash my hands-
Spencer's thoughts are interrupted by her smile faltering, and her hand dropping. He curses in his mind. Way to go, idiot. Now she thinks you're weird regardless, and she's not going to want to talk to you anymore, and-
A pager buzzes where it's clipped to her waistband, and she clicks a button on the side of it. She gives him yet another apologetic smile, but this time, it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Sorry. Duty calls. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Reid." And then she's breezing past him, her hips swaying as she walks away, without looking back.
It's doctor, actually. The words are on the tip of his tongue as he watches her leave, but they never come to fruition. She's out of earshot before he can get his bearings.
Spencer sighs, leaning against one of the bookshelves. He's suddenly not as interested in reading about Kepler.
Can you write a little blurb about reader having a sleepy cuddly afternoon with Spencer?
Soft rays of light drifted through the curtains and across your face, a gentle reminder from the sun of its limited time with you. As much as you wanted to continue your adventures within your dreamscape, you were quickly stolen away, back to the real world. Back to the too small couch currently hosting you and your too tall boyfriend, Spencer.
Afternoons like this were rare with him, he was always on call and even when he was home you both were typically too busy to spend an afternoon doing nothing. You both got the afternoon off and while you had said it would be just a few minutes of rest, those few minutes turned into a few hours, which had developed into the entire day.
Spencer was still asleep, you try not to move too much and wake him. His insomnia refuses to let him sleep for more than a few hours, so you know he needs what rest he can get.
This was also your favorite time to look at him, when he had his guard down and looked the most at peace. The beams that drew you from sleep now dance across his curls, making them shine a golden color that reminds you of honey. Freckles are sprinkled across his skin. You remember how you used to make a game of kissing each of them when you first got together. The memories bring a soft smile to your face as you listen to his snores.
As if realizing he’s being watched, Spencer finally stirs. His eyes flitter open, revealing the rich, brown color that always reminded you of dark, vintage books. The corner of his lips tilt up into a smile and he pulls you in tighter.
“Good afternoon sleepy,” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck.
He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well?”
“As well as I can having to listen to your loud ass snoring,” you tease, sitting up to check the time on your phone.
Spencer rolls his eyes and rests his head back against the arm of the couch, stretching his arm across his face to cover the light. “45% of adult males snore on a regular basis, and it only gets worse with age. You should really get used to it.”
“Guess I’ll just have to go find somewhere else to sleep then.” You act like you’re going to stand up, only to have Spencer jump up from his resting position and drag you back down with him, his grasp unusually strong for a man of his stature.
“Not gonna happen.” His grip holds firm as you attempt to wiggle away, giggling.
“We really should get up and be productive,” you murmur into his chest where he currently has your face stuck.
“Productivity is for tomorrow, today is for sleeping and comfort.”
While your mind tells you that his logic is faulty, you can’t ignore how his sweater smells strongly of books and laundry detergent, or how comforting that smell is. You also cannot ignore the circles he is currently rubbing on your back, just underneath your own sweater. So, instead of protesting, you nestle in closer and shut your eyes once more.
“Sleep it is.”
You both drift off to sleep again, locked in each other’s arms and isolated from the outside world. When you inevitably wake again and hear Spencer’s soft snores, all you can do is smile.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bau!unsub!female!reader x dom!spencer
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 521
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: smut with a little plot, praise, dominant spencer, he get's a little forceful
“is this what psychotic girls like you fantasize about..? huh..?”
spencer’s chest pressed against your back, your saliva coating his fingers as he curled them against your tongue. how ironic was it that he was fucking the criminal that had cost him hours of sleep right on his personal desk?
you were what the BAU ranked a “stalker” class unsub. an erotomanic individual who had convinced themself that someone completely out of their grasp was head over heels for them. not particularly dangerous, but more than desperate to get a taste of what you had been longing for for countless years.
you had watched him in action for as long as you had served the fbi. every worthless factoid and obsolete piece of information he spat out tattooed itself in your brain, making you more whipped for him with each passing day. and by the time you got caught for your criminalistic tendencies, you wanted nothing more than to have his body against yours.
earlier in the day, he had asked you to stay late at the office with him, said it was private stuff that he wanted to discuss with you. but surely, the BAU’s boy genius had used his skills to see through your semi-flawless facade. and now he was dealing with you the only way he knew how.
and you had gotten exactly what you wanted, but at what cost?
spencer’s cock slipped out of your hole, the tip swollen and red with anger as he teased your puffy entrance with it. he reentered with a deep groan, your pussy making an audible squelch sound as you toyed with your clit.
“i-i’ve always noticed you…” he started, “...giving me those eyes of yours during conferences… trying to get me alone at any possible chance…”
your face pressed into a pile of paperwork, mewls and moans and little sobs slipping from your parted lips. a harsh slap landed on your ass, making you squeal.
“...and you really thought you’d get away with it, huh? or maybe you just wanted this outcome. smart girl…”
the rapid, almost painful rhythm of his thrusts adjusted to a softer pace, the brutal abuse on your cervix reaching a halt. you panted greedily, arching your back against him in an attempt to feel him stretch you out again. he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, drawing sloppy threads of saliva from your lips.
“i wonder how the team’s gonna feel about this. i’d be a real shame if they found out about this little game you’ve been playing…”
your blood ran cold. it hadn’t even occuured to you that you had gotten caught in this scheme of yours. and now spencer had the power to ruin your life right in his hands. you opened your mouth, starting to beg and plead for his forgiveness, but his lips found yours and shut you up immediately.
he moved himself against you, feeling the vibrations of your whimpers jittering through his veins. he pulled away, taking your pretty face into his firm grip and staring daggers at you.
