#spenciebabiesficcontest
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Is This Gonna Be Graded?
Summary: Y/N’s last assignment is simple, write down everything that you’d want to try. The options are endless and that just might be the end of her.
Category: Smut 18+ (minors DNI)
Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader
Warnings: Smut so MINORS DNI! (Age gap (legal), former professor/student, light degradation, light spanking, penetrative/unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), soft Dom Spencer with innocence kink, submissive reader who kinda want to be be a brat (remember no glove, no love and don’t be stupid if hit by cupid) if I missed anything, please don’t hesitate to correct me
Word Count: 3900ish (I got very carried away in the build up)
Author’s Note: Here is my entry to @spenciebabie fic contest! This is a sequel submission to this blurb, click the link to see which one I’m referencing. It’s Professor Spencer x Virgin Reader... This is my first time writing anything resembling smut, so please be advised that this might be incredibly cringey and horrid :). Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy!
Is This Gonna Be Graded?
Spencer told you that you’d just had to wait till the end of the semester and he was all yours. All yours to kiss in public, all yours to wake up to in the morning and have make you breakfast in bed, all yours to be all yours. Well, he’s been yours since you walked into the class with your sweet smile and even sweeter disposition. The end of the semester was so close that you could almost taste it. The idea of having two whole weeks of Spencer all to yourself was enough to let your mind run wild of the dirty and depraved things you wanted him to do to you. Thinking back to the final “assignment” your professor assigned you, you pull out the pretty stationary with flowers and bunnies that Spencer gifted you just because he liked seeing your face light up at the smallest expressions of affection. His assignment was clear, and you recall the commanding tone in his voice when he whispered in your ear.
“Now Y/N,” he said in almost a chastising tone. You felt your face flush and your stomach flutter at the way he looked down at you.
“I want you to write down everything you want to try, sweet girl. Everything that you want me to do to you. Together we will check all your boxes. I just want my bunny to be happy and taken care off,” he tells you, rubbing his thumb over your lips before crouching down to kiss each corner of your mouth.
“Is this gonna be graded, Dr. Reid?” You respond coly.
“I expect nothing but the best from my favorite student,” Spencer says, kissing your forehead before waving goodbye excitedly. God the way he can switch from fan-your-face sexy to dorkly adorable made your head spin.
The fond memory still makes heat crawl up your cheeks. Taking the pen to paper you think of sinful things you want to try out. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Dr. Spencer Reid, it’s that he’s quite forward about what he wants. And what he wants is you. On the paper you make quick notes.
I want to be called your good girl, your dumb bunny, and a greedy girl
I read about overstimulation and I really want to try that
I want to try riding you and for you to spank me
I think that I would like edging
Oral (giving and receiving)
Fingering
You read over the list and it seems like a good start. It was strange writing down the things you wanted to do with Spencer, but with him that awkwardness was more excitement. You could tell that he enjoyed exploring these things with you. He enjoyed watching you feel good because of him for the first time. Something deep inside the pair of you got off on him being the only one to ever see you like that. Part of your heart would be perfectly content with it just being him, but part of your head tells you that may not ever come true. Looking forward to the weekend, you tuck away the piece of paper in the drawer.
Spencer, if you haven’t realized it yet, is an enormous dork. Walking through the different shelves of books at the bookstore with Spencer is like wandering into a candy store with a sweet tooth. Except maybe your sweet tooth couldn’t be sated by the words between the pages but rather a certain someone’s face between your legs.
“Spencer,” you whined, tugging on his sleeves.
“A little longer, Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice a little impatient as his fingers dance across the spines of the books. He selects a book, and you try to strain your head over his shoulder to read the title.
“Nope,” he says, playfully with a certain look in his eye.
You let out a huff and a whine at Spencer’s refusal to share the book with you. He gives you a pointed look, telling you to knock it off while you still have the chance. But pushing his buttons has never been so much fun, especially when your mind thinks over the piece of paper hidden in your desk. Spencer pays for the book, and offers you his hand as you walk to his car.
“Spencer, where are we going?” You ask, as he rubs his thumb over the soft part of your palm. You can’t ever get used to the way his hand fits so wonderfully in your palm and other certain places.
“Patience, Y/N. Good things come to good girls who wait,” Spencer says, opening your door and walking around to his seat. You can feel your heart thumping as Spencer pulls out of the parking lot and heads off in the direction of your apartment.
“Did you finish your assignment, Y/N?” Spencer asks, his voice but a whisper in your ear.
You steal a look up at him. His brown hair is messy with curls and someone how he makes it look put together. Maybe it’s his tweed sports coat and tie that makes him look so wonderful or maybe it’s his voice that rambles on about some statistic one second and switches to sinful secrets the next.
“Yes, Dr Reid,” you tell him. You watch as he takes a seat at your kitchen table, almost ignoring you.
“Go get it and bring it out here,” he tells you.
You come back into your kitchen and find Spencer reading his book that he purchased. He doesn’t look up at you when you walk back in, but opens his hand with his palm facing up.
Tentatively, you put your palm in his. He looks up at you and you realize that he must have expected you to put the folded up piece of paper in his hand rather than your palm. This realization, much to Spencer’s delight, causes your cheeks to tinge in slight embarrassment.
“I want to read your assignment, Y/N” Spencer says, not breaking his eye contact with you. You hand him the note and move to pull your hand away, but much to your enjoyment, Spencer hangs on to your hand.
He probably only looks over at the list for a couple of seconds, which is enough for him to have read it considering he’s a genius after all. Spencer pushes the letter over to you, still holding on to your hand. The silence is thick and the way he looks over at you makes you feel like you’re under a bright spot light.
“Now Y/N, I’m a profiler and I can’t help but profile what your list tells me about you, my dear,” Spencer says, his voice low and husky.
You don’t even dare to make a noise, not trusting your voice to give away how badly you ache for him inside and out.
“I think that you’ve been a good girl your whole life. Always doing what you’re told, so smart, hmm?” Spencer says, moving a hand to rest on your thigh and the other draws shapes in your palm.
“Yes, Dr. Reid,” you respond, not making eye contact.
“Look at me when I talk to you, sweet girl,” Spencer orders, and like a puppeteer has an invisible string attached to your head, you raise your chin to look up at the man sitting before you.
“You’re proving my point, sweetheart. You can’t help but want to be a good girl, but part of you wants to let that out, now does it? Part of you wants to be a messy, dumb girl who wants to get her way. Is that right, Y/N?” Spencer says, leaning in to move the hand that caresses your palm to cup your cheek.
You look at Spencer with shock that he’s seen right through you. It’s tiring sometimes, to always be the smart girl. Spencer’s giving you the reins to let go of that persona and to tap into a side of yourself that you’ve never seen before. The excitement that pumps your heart is nothing compared to the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants you.
“Yes,” you say breathlessly.
“I want you to feel good, sweet girl. And I want to make you feel good,” Spencer says, kissing your temples and down your cheek softly. You hum in pleasure as he makes his way down your chest, motioning for you to take your shirt off.
“Don’t be shy now, baby. I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, leaning back to watch you shed your shirt.
You blush from the top of your nose down to your now exposed chest. Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts as he touches you like you’re a piece of glass that can break if he handles you with too much pressure.
“Such a needy little thing already,” Spencer remarks, removing his hands from their spot on your body, much to your displeasure.
“Spencer,” you whimper, already missing his touch.
“Look at me, Pretty Girl. I got you a present for being such a good student this semester,” Spencer tells you, handing you the book that you bought at the bookstore only a couple hours prior. It’s wrapped in paper with bunnies and flowers, and you can’t help but smile at Spencer’s attention to detail.
“Was I your favorite student, Professor Reid?” you say, a cheeky smile adorns your face as you take the book from Spencer’s hand.
“I want you to get the rest of those clothes off and sit on your bed. Wait till I come in,” Spencer tells, unable to stop himself from planting a heated kiss on your lips. You haven’t kissed that many people before Spencer, but with the way he kisses you tell yourself they were all leading up to this one. He’s a passionate man, so you’d not expect anything less than what he gives as he kisses down your neck.
“Dr. Reid if you want me to go lay on the bed you have to let me go first,” you say lightly, trying not to reveal to Spencer how much his kisses work you up.
“Tut, tut, Y/N. It’s lie down, you are to lie down on the bed. Here I thought my star pupil was more intelligent than that? Hmm are you just a silly little thing?” Spencer asks in a mocking tone, as he spins you around to lead you into the bedroom with his large hand on the small of your back.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Reid,” you say, your blush really is perpetual when he’s so commanding around you.
Spencer looks at you expectantly and you take that as a signal to get undressed. It’s hard to bear yourself in front of a man as composed as him. His dark stare practically burns holes into your body. Even though you stand there naked front of him, as your jeans fall to the ground around your ankles, Spencer’s gaze is not raking over your body. His eyes latch on to yours, holding your stare until your constant blush rushes to your head.
“You‘re so fucking beautiful, Y/N. You know that right?” He asks, his hands coming up to rest on the soft skin of your hips. His fingers get tangled up in the waistband of your underwear. They’re lacy and cotton in a light purple. You recall Spencer wearing the color quite a bit, something deep inside you drew you to the color. Maybe it was the thought of him undressing you and revealing the special undergarments picked out especially for him.
“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, your voice shaky under his lustful stare.
Spencer kisses you again, tangling his hands in your hair and pulling lightly. The sensation on your neck and on the back of your head makes you dizzy with excitement. He holds you so tenderly but his hungry mouth speaks for the sinful way you realize he wants to touch you.
“Please, Dr. Reid. I need you to touch me,” you say, your breath getting short and your patience growing even shorter.
“I’ve hardly touched you and you’re already such a mess. Get up on the bed, sweet girl and spread your legs for me,” Spencer instructs, as you hop up on the bed.
You crawl to the pillows, but before you can turn around, a sharp slap lands right on the soft part of your ass. You let out a yelp that bleeds into a moan. Spencer watches as your skin returns to its original color, and makes a mental note to try that again with you.
“That’s for your poor grammar, my silly girl,” he reprimands.
You sit down in your spot, with your head resting on the pillows. Peeking down, you watch as Spencer undoes his tie and takes off his shirt. He crawls between your legs and grabs the book from where you tossed it on your nightstand. You unwrap the paper, revealing a worn copy of Psychology of the Mind, your textbook in Spencer’s class. You let out a small chuckle at the gift, leave it to Spencer Reid to get you a textbook as a gift.
“Start reading, Y/N. And your only instruction is to tell me when you’re close. You think you can handle that, or is that too much. You can your professor, sweet girl” Spencer says, peering up from you.
You nod and sneak a touch at Spencer’s soft hair. He leans into your touch, enjoying the affection more than he lets on. He winks at you, egging you on to continue.
“Psychology is the scientific study of mind and behavior. The word “psychology” comes from the Greek words “psyche,” meaning life, and “logos,” meaning explanation. Psychology is a popular major for students, a popular topic in the public media, and a part of our everyday lives—ah, ah, Spencer!” You cry out, looking down from the textbook to watch Spencer’s face disappear in between your legs.
“I love your thighs, Y/N,” Spencer says, wrapping his hands around them so you’re glued to your spot on the bed.
“Really?” You ask, it’s not like you absolutely love your thighs. They’re just thighs, but the way that Spencer looks up at you, starts to plant seeds in your mind.
“Oh yes, they’re so soft and warm. Just you wait, sweet girl. Continue reading, please,” Spencer says, planting bruising kissing on the softest parts of your thighs.
“Television shows such as—as Dr. Phil feature psychologists who provide personal a-advice to those with personal or family difficulties. Crime dramas such as CSI, Lie to Me, and others feature the work of forensic psychologists who use psychological principles to help solve cr-crimes. Oh God, I’m close, Spencer,” you cry as Spencer’s tongue continues to draw patterns along your thighs and folds.
“Spencer, oh fuck! That’s it, please, Spencer- I’m going to,” you whine as Spencer’s tongue latches onto your clit. He kisses and sucks at a pace like no other, he seems to be enjoying himself, considering the lewd moans he makes.
You think that you’re about to die when Spencer inserts a long finger into your entrance. You’re not used to the feeling of being so full from another person. The way his fingers arch and reach, searching for the spot to make you come undone sets a fire to your core. Spencer doesn’t stop sucking or kissing your clit as he enters another finger into your entrance.
“Tell me, baby. Tell me when you’re going to cum,” Spencer says, looking up at you. His chin glistens with your arousal and he licks his lips to clean it up.
“I think you’re ready to cum. But you’re such a dumb little bunny that you can’t tell. It’s a good thing you have me, sweet girl. I can tell when you’re ready to cum. You’re so wet for me. So wet from me touching you, such a messy, greedy little girl,” Spencer says, smacking the inside of your thighs.
You yelp and latch on to the roots of his hair, forgetting your instructions to read aloud.
“Please! I’m, I-I” you whimper as Spencer caresses your face, placing sweet kisses along your collarbone and up to chest.
“I know, baby. I’ll take care of you. Hmm. You want my cock? Is that what you need, silly girl?” Spencer asks, fiddling with his belt to remove his pants.
“Yes,” you practically scream, as the heat in between your legs gets too much to bear.
“Be patient, my dumb bunny. You need to learn patience, Y/N,” Spencer tells you, tossing his underwear to the side and rubbing his cock with his hand.
“Please fuck me, Dr. Reid. Please!” You cry for Spencer, who seals your lips with a final kiss before lining up to your entrance.
“You’re still so tight for me, Y/N. So wet and warm for me. I’m the only one who gets you, hmm. Only I can see you all messy like this. No one else,” Spencer says, thrusting into you and snaking his hand to rub your clit in quick, circular patterns.
“You’re so big, Spencer. You fill me up so good, so good,” you whine, tears spilling down your face. Spencer’s hand comes up to rub against your lips and to wipe away your tears.
Even though he’s fucked you several times since that time in his office, Spencer still can’t get you used to the way the dirty words sound from your pink lips. The way you still blush at saying “cock” and “pussy” breaks something inside of him.
“Spencer, can-can I ride you?” You cry, begging for him to move faster to do something to attend to the burning between your legs.
“Do you think that you can handle that? I don’t think you can. Look at you, you can hardly handle my cock fucking you like this? Hmm, my dumb bunny is hungry for my cock, isn’t she?”
“Yes, Sir!” You squeak, his hands come to grab your hips to sit up on his lap. His cock is fully sheathed inside you, and he’s never felt so big. You can hardly form sentences as Spencer rubs his fingers along your clit, setting aflame to the fire below.
“I’m so close, Y/N. You want me to cum in you, baby?”
“Yes, sir. Please cum inside me. I need it,” you moan into Spencer’s shoulder.
“Soon, baby. Try bouncing on my cock. Like a good little bunny. You’re my dumb little bunny, hmm now bounce on my cock,” Spencer says, slapping your ass to be get you move up and down on his cock.
He watches as he disappears deep inside you. Spencer plants wet, opened mouth kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your eyes. Any skin that he can reach is not safe from the assault from Spencer’s soft lips. He likes seeing the marks that are left in its wake on your soft, unclaimed skin.
“Can I cum, please sir. Let me cum with you, I need it,” you breathe out, hardly trusting yourself to talk without spilling to Spencer how wonderful his fingers and mouth and cock make you feel.
“Cum with me, sweet girl. You can cum,” Spencer tells you, closing his eyes and reaching his own release with the quickening of his fingers on your clit.
“Oh, God! Oh Spencer,” you cry as you finally let go. You lean your whole body against Spencer’s. Your forehead touches his chest, the sweat on your body mats your hair to your forehead.
Spencer peppers soft kisses along your shoulder and collarbone as he places you down on the bed. You whine at the feeling of himself leaving you, and he hums to soothe you.
“You did so good, Y/N. My perfect girl,” He says, holding your hand and kissing each of your fingers. His sweet gesture elicits a fit of giggles from you, much to Spencer’s pleasure. He gets up from the bed and walks into your hallway. Part of you is a little worried that he’s leaving, maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe he didn’t enjoy it.
“I’ll be right back, honey. Right back,” Spencer tells you from the hallway into your room. He returns with a towel that’s warm and damp. Spencer cleans you up from in between your legs and tosses the towel into your laundry basket. He opens a drawer and picks out a soft T-shirt to dress you in. Gently, he dresses you. Taking the time to kiss your face and whisper to you how wonderful you felt and how good you make him feel. You have a sneaking suspicion that Spencer enjoys this quiet, intimate part even more than the rough, passionate part just moments before. You relish in the attention, it’s nice to have someone pay close attention and to see to enjoy it immensely.
“Thank you, Spencer,” You murmur into your pillow, as you watch him walk over to where he tossed his pants before climbing in between your legs. You watch him put his boxers and white T-shirt back on, struggling slightly as he tries to get out all the thoughts running through his head.
“I hope that you know I want this to be a relationship, Y/N. I don’t want you to think I just want to--”
“Fuck me?” You offer, quite shocked at how Spencer’s persona can switch up so fast. Perhaps he’s equally as shocked at your brazen language, given the rise of the eyebrow he throws you.
“Yes, I want to be with you. If you want to be with me,” Spencer professes, fiddling with a long box in his hands.
“I’d love to be with you, Spencer,” you tell him, a blush rising to both of your cheeks. He’s awfully cute when he’s shy, you think to yourself.
“So the textbook wasn’t really your gift,” Spencer says, handing you the long box.
You open the box and reveal a blue necklace with a gold chain. The blue jewel is topaz and is accompanied by three pearls that hang below it. The gold chain is delicate and the second Spencer saw it in the jewelry boutique, he couldn’t help but imagine it around your neck.
“It’s beautiful, Spencer. I love it, will you put it on for me?” You ask, tossing your hair around your shoulder.
Spencer climbs back into your bed and tenderly opens and closes the clasp of the necklace. His fingers graze your neck leaving goosebumps in their wake. His small kisses cause you to giggle and turn around to face him.
“You really can be quite sweet, Spencer,” You say as you lean in to meet your mouth to his.
“Well you make me want to be sweet, Y/N. It’s simple psychology-”
“Ha, luckily for me I no longer have to listen to you ramble on about psychology,” you tease a disgruntled looking Spencer.
Feigning hurt, Spencer dramatically holds his heart as if you mortally wounded him.
“You wound me, Y/N!” he fake cries as you tickle his sides.
“Oh you big baby, come lay down with me,” you say in between laughs.
“Hmm, I think that someone is asking for spankings,” he teases, “how many times do I need to tell you that it's lie down, sweet girl,” Spencer says, as you shake your head and lean in to kiss his forehead.
“Enough for it to stick, Professor,”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader smut#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#spenciebabiesficcontest#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fics#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid you imagine#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction
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Circles and Squiggly Lines
circles and squiggly lines
circles and squiggly lines
Summary: Spencer comes back from a bad case, and he and Y/N take some time for themselves to wind down and connect with each other...
Pairing: (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Details: maybe pre-prison Reid, but anything works tbh
Category: fluff and smut
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: depressing thoughts, skin-to-skin closeness, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, spencer cries sorry
A/N: based off this blurb by @spenciebabie for their fic contest!
...
His eyes were the most genuine part of his body; no matter how long he slept, they always eluded to the tiredness that constantly wept over him. It had become routine, he drank his coffee and took naps when needed, but overall he never slept much. Pills didn't work, and his job offered no sincerity to his lack of a good REM cycle. That was until he met her.
...
The first night he and Y/N slept together was probably the best night's sleep of his life. He thought of the oxytocin levels after orgasm or the studies of human skin-to-skin contact aiding in the human sleep cycle, but, after that, every night with her just became better and better.
In a non-sexual way (and a very sexual way), he loved sleeping together. He loved the feeling of her skin on his or the way her hair parted naturally in her sleep to frame her face. He loved holding her close so he could feel her heartbeat press against his. And he loved the mornings when she'd wake up tucked tightly in his arms. And he adored the groggy morning voice she hated so much.
She was one of the reasons he disliked traveling for work, not that he didn't love his job at times, but he missed his girlfriend's comfort after a long day, especially after the tougher cases. This one, in particular, was in the sex crimes unit.
He didn't want to talk to Y/N about this one. He didn't want her to worry about him, even though she probably should have. They don't tell you how much this job takes saturation out of things, and it made him realize just how much he missed her.
Thankfully they solved it rather quickly before the unsub could attain more victims, but when he got home that late Friday night, he admitted to himself how worn he was. He knew when to ask for help and when he knew he could push it off, but at this point, it took a lot to admit to himself how much he needed her.
He slept for the first time in a long week that night; it was comforting to fall asleep with her arms around his, and only then had he realized just how tired he was. She wasn't a profiler herself, but she could tell what he needed, even it was as little as a comforting rub on his back which is what she did.
She drew circles and squiggly lines on the bare skin of his back while his shoulder blades peeked out, and she hummed softly against his curly hair to let him rest in a peace he missed so dearly. A peace he had left unattended for far too long that now he was reunited, he would never let go.
And he slept. He slept, and he dreamed of pleasanter things. The shampoo of her hair wafted through his nose, so his memories of her flooded his head even in his unconscious state. Both of them in their exposed states, their skin on the others, he felt safe.
...
The following day Y/N was shocked to find a pillow that had replaced her boyfriend in the middle of the night. Instead of drawing out her morning tired state, she quickly investigated where he went. She wanted to be with him after missing him for so long, but she wanted to make sure he was okay.
She put on some clothes from her hamper, desperate to find him as promptly as possible, and she discovered her mission was soon cut short when the first place she looked, she found him sitting in the bathtub with water up to his open ears.
"Spencer?" Were technically the first words she had spoken to him in the past twelve hours or so, and he immediately turned his head and sat up in her direction. "Are you okay?" He didn't respond; he just kept himself put. Afraid if he moved a muscle, the glass of his peaceful state would fall off his head and crash onto the mosaic floor.
She didn't nag him for an answer; she knew that sometimes after a case as bad as she was assuming, he could go slightly non-verbal, but she trusted him enough to tell her what he needed. But before she turns to leave the bathroom, he croaks out a small "Can-" She stops and turns around rapidly like a genie ready to help him in any way she could.
"Can you stay here?" His voice was down to a whisper, and a slight frown formed on Y/N's face. She could hear the pain in his voice. "Of course, sweetie, do you want some food or something? You hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday; I'm assuming," But her cut her off.
"I haven't been eating." This flipped a switch in her mind telling her she had a problem to fix; she could get him a snack or maybe something bigger if he were up for it, but from where she stood, he grabbed her hand softly in his wet fingertips and looked up at her with his added and puppy dog eyes. "Later?"
She listened and started to move to the sink counter and sit o the edge, but his grip on her hand didn't falter. "Do you want me to join you?" And again, he didn't give her any signal, no words, just a motionless being in his bathtub. But she knew him too well to know that his silence meant 'yes.'
Her clothes fell off easily before she places her foot in the bathtub by Spencer's, absent enough for her to be able to fit perfectly on Spencer's chest. He took her comfort in his hands and squeezed her closely, scared she could leave in seconds, but he knew she wouldn't. He knew she wouldn't abandon him when her hands intertwined with his as easily as they did last night in their bed.
She leaned in close, hearing the heartbeat in his chest thump and thump against her ear as a signal he was alive and working correctly. But she knew even broken people's hearts could pump even if they were damaged.
The thought of Spencer going through his pain alone made her weep for him. "Are you crying?" He asked when he realized how much she needed him as he needed her. She didn't try to hide her salty face; instead, she just wiggled her hands out of their crook to hold Spencer's.
Spencer's beautiful and soft hands grown worn and cracked over time. Spencer's hands that fit perfectly into hers. Spencer's hands whose held onto hers as if his life depended on it. Spencer's gorgeous hands he used to rub her back.
Small circles and squiggly lines in the formations where he knew she wasn't ticklish and wanted him to touch. Wanted him to lather in soap in the shower or place his hand when they're walking together or trace shapes when either of them was sad.
She's unsure where their idea originated from while Spencer remembers every detail. He remembers how she held onto his fist and stretched his arm to doodle funny images on his wrist in red ink. He remembers how relieved it made him feel latching onto the sensory of the shapes. And they both remember it as their comforting message to each other.
Y/N takes notice of the room around them, unaware of the life the two people in the bathtub shared. And she looked across the room only a few feet away from a bottle of bubble solution. Spencer notices it, too, and smiles softly. "I don't understand people who bathe without bubbles." She giggles, and Spencer does too, reaching his long arm to grab the bottle. "I was just tired, but you want bubbles; I'll make you bubbles."
She smiles when she drips the fluid onto the bathtub floor before sinking her hands to mix the solution, bubbles quickly forming to Spencer's smile and a soft chuckle. She messes with the feeling of it all, the lather on her skin and the colors of the liquid, and Spencer starts to as well, both of them basking in the much-needed relief of a down-time moment.
A moment neither of them needed to explain themselves, and they could be. Focusing on every little bubble and every petite sud, they soaked in the water for a long time, laughing and cuddling and playing with bubbles.
It wasn't long before Y/N found herself tightly bound in Spencer's arms again. The innocence of their bodies together lying in the soap and the fun of their bubble bath. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," She moans, giving a soft kiss to the pec she was laying on. He smiles at the feeling of his skin under her lips, a feeling he probably missed the most. The soft and delicate way she handled him and the way he held her was everything he missed and everything he loved about her.
He thinks about what would happen when he lost her.
If he lost her
He thinks about the case. The poor women who never returned home to their significant others; the even more impoverished people who would never hold their loved ones the way he was holding his own. Why was it fair they all lost their everything's when he had his waiting for him at home the whole time. He felt guilty. He felt ashamed before Y/N could notice the shift in his breath and begin her circular and squiggly movements again.
This made him smile before he whispered to her, "I'm scared of losing you." She moves up from her resting place on his chest to meet his eyeliner straight into his face. "You're not going to lose me, Spencer." She whispers back even though the feelings don't go away; they fade darker.
He leans in to kiss her, and she eagerly continues his advance. Not eagerly in a heated way but a way that explained to him just how much she cared. And through their kiss, he felt all of the love and all of the happiness she felt for him.
It felt like too much for him to deserve, but she kept giving and giving to him. Gently pecking at his lips and toying with the skin on his chest, enough to let him know it was safe to relax before Spencer had more in mind.
"Let's get out." She's curious, sure, but she listens to him and starts to reach for a towel when she emerged, bubbles sticking to her skin like honey. He watched the curves of her skin travel to her sweet softness, and when he left himself, he hugged onto her as tight as before, leaving another kiss on her lips before nuzzling his head in the safety of her shoulder.
She patted his damp back and motioned him to the bedroom, letting him lay himself down before he pulled her with him. "Spencer?" His eyes fixated on her's filled with confusion, before he let himself explain verbally. "Sleep with me? I-," He cuts himself off, waiting for her to say 'no' for her to say anything and ignore him, but instead, she listens to what he was waiting to speak.
"I want to be close to you. I want to feel you." She stands in front of him while he sits on the bed. After his wording, he leans into her chest and stomach to plant little kisses onto the skin he missed so much.
"There are other ways if you don't want to do this." It's not that she was talking him out of anything; she just hated the idea of making him uncomfortable. But he persisted. He kept his mouth on her smooth skin, hungry for the comfort and safety he felt around her, inside of her.
His once depressed state had morphed itself into a desire needing to be satiated. He wanted her. He missed her. He needed her. Watching his face travel down to her lower abdomen, she realizes just how much she needs him as well.
So she turns around and flops herself onto the bed, Spencer soon following and using his arms to support him hovering over her. His hair was dropping a little bit into her face, but he filled the space instantly with his lips on hers. She tasted his mouth with a further longing to show her love. She tasted the coffee on his lips and smelled the natural aroma of cedarwood and soft laundry in his skin.
When his lips moved to her shoulder, a soft moan escapes her lips, making him move faster, eager to be with her in all the ways he yearned for over the weeks he was gone. Both of them were already naked, so it was just their bare and slightly damp skin grinding against each-other while Spencer grew harder above her.
She loved the feeling of his growth on her stomach and started groaning louder, so excited for him. Spencer could tell how impatient she was getting, so he draws one of his fingers from the pillow she was resting on to her pelvis, halting just a little before she broke off the kiss, noticing his hesitation.
Her eyes looked up to his with a look of pure adoration; he feels his heart skip a beat. She leans back a little, wondering if he'd changed his mind about sex, but to affirm his desire, he pushes his fingers into her skin softly and dragged them further to her core, earning another weak whimper from her.
Her sounds shoot straight to his cock while he watches her eyes flutter from his movements. Gently pinching and rubbing her swollen clit, "Oh! Spencer!" was enough for him to roll his head to the side in awe before shooting his digits inside of her.
Excess lubrication formed at his fingertips while her hands flew to his shoulders, gently scratching and pulling him closer. "What do you need, baby?" He coos into her ear while gently nipping at her earlobe.
"Jesus, Spencer fuck me!"
She wails without thinking, running purely on impulse for release, anything. So he listened to her and lined himself up. Not waiting to tease her, he thrust all of him inside of her at once, earning another scream in his ear. Her gorgeous moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as they collided together.
As rough as they took it, it was purely driven by passion. A desire to be with each other fueled by the heat of an absence lasting too long for either of them to cope with.
He slows his pattern and shifts his upper body to hover right above her. Her eyes open delicately after being shut in concentration for so long. "I love you." He whispers into her breath, "I love you too." She returns, loosening her tight grip on his shoulders to ease the tension they built up so feverishly.
She can tell he's about to cum, noticing the sweat on his brow and look of focus on his face, so to tease him, she tightens herself around his aching cock. "Fuck, do that again!" He moaned over her. She did what he said, drawing another long moan and twitch in his dick.
It took a lot for him not to bust right there, but he composed himself long enough to bring his hand down to her clit again. He wanted her to come before him, so he worked his best to toy with her how he knew she loved.
"Oh, Spencer!" And many more cries erupted from her open mouth before Spencer filled it with his tongue. She took her free arms to wrap around Spencer's shoulder and pull him impossibly closer to him, longing for the release of their connection together.
When she finally did come, it took Spencer half of a second to follow her. Both of their highs colliding with each other in the minimal air separating them. Moans cascading and ricocheting off the walls as they came down together, nestled in each other's arms.
Before she wants to latch away from him, Spencer rolls off of her body to lie next to her. In her midst of weakness after her climax, she doesn't latch back onto him right away. Instead, she takes a few deep breaths before she hears Spencer's waiver.
His chest rises and falls rapidly, causing Y/N to abruptly turn in his direction to find her beautiful boyfriend, so strong and resilient for her crying next to her.
"No, no, no, no, no, baby, what's wrong?" She turned her body nearly on top of his and slid her hands up to his face to wipe away the tears streaming down. He tried his hardest to stop or at least calm himself down in front of her, but at this point, he couldn't have stopped himself.
He moaned and cried a little longer in her arms before bringing his voice to a whisper in her ear. "I feel crowded." He whispered so gently she almost didn't hear him accompanied by the sobs in between words, but she tried her best to articulate further,
"Do you want me to go?"
"No, please, I need you."
The words flow out before he can stop them, finally exposing his vulnerability to her waiting to be caught in her embrace. She shushes him, trying to calm him down, and plasters kisses all over his forehead, easing up to whisper small praises to him before he starts to slow his breathing.
"I love you so much, Y/N. I can't explain how much I need you." She listens to every heartbreaking syllable, only tightening her grip on him before whispering her own reciprocation, "You're never going to lose me, Spencer, I love you."
She kisses his forehead before he's calmed down enough to plant another firm kiss on her lips. They both know how late it is in the morning, but without words, they both tell each other it's okay to rest a little longer. Spencer falls asleep first, and Y/N just watched in awe how peaceful he looks before following him in their cuddly nap.
...
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Hospital Bed Confessions | Spencer Reid
Summary: After an unsub injures you and you end up in hospital, Spencer never leaves your side, even after letting a very special confession slip.
Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of hospitals, guns, injuries, swear words, medications.
Word Count: 2.3k
Authors Note: This is for @spenciebabie writing contest, and I’m using the prompt “why don’t you make me?” This was written past mindnight, so it might not be as polished as I’d like, but I couldn’t wait to post it. Hope you enjoy!
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You never expected to be lying in a hospital bed at eleven pm, head foggy and pain shooting up your side. Really, it was the last thing you expected when you got up that morning to meet the team at the New York City Police Headquarters. But here you were, skull throbbing with a dull pinch and your body covered in thick hospital blankets.
The room was dark, curtains drawn across the windows and the door shut, blocking out outside noise. The only sound was the low beeping of various machines and monitors, and the quiet snores of a young man.
Spencer Reid had his hand gripping yours tightly, his head resting against the mattress and a blanket draped over him, body perched awkwardly in a chair that was pulled up to your bedside. You turned your head to look at him, taking in the way his lips quirked as he slept, how his tie was loosened, and his hair looked like a bid had used it for a nest.
“He’s been with you since you got out of surgery.” The soft voice caught your attention, and when you looked up you found Hotch standing in the doorway, door half open and dim light peeking through. The older agent stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him before walking over to your bedside, taking a seat on the edge of it. “How are you feeling?” Hotch looked you over, taking note of the small lacerations on your face, the deep cut on your left shoulder, and as his gaze drifted to your stomach, you knew there was something he hadn’t told you yet.
“Honestly? I’ve woken up in a hospital, in pain and I have no idea what happened.” Hotch frowned at your words, but nodded his head in understanding, and as you stared at him, he knew you were waiting for answers he wasn’t really wanting to give you. But, as your boss, friend and someone who cared about you deeply, he knew he had no choice.
“Do you remember you and Spencer chasing after the unsub through Time Square?” You shook your head, and he continued. “Well, the two of you followed him, and then…to be honest I don’t know the full story, we’re still trying to work it out, but Spencer said the unsub looped back and was next to you before you or Spencer knew. And then a minute later you were on the pavement with a gunshot to the stomach, and Spencer was calling for an ambulance.” Hotch sighed as he finished speaking, watching as the story washed over you. You didn’t say anything for a couple minutes, just fiddled with the blanket while you tried to collect your thoughts and push through the pain to talk.
“Did you,” your throat was dry and scratchy, and Hotch passed you a small cup of water, “did you catch the unsub?” Hotch nodded, waited for you to drain the water from the cup and then pass it back to him, and then he was speaking again.
“He tried running, but Spencer shot him in the knee when he tried. Good thing too, because we found out if he’d made it out of Times Square, he had someone waiting to get him out of the country.” Hotch stood up, bent down to press a kiss to your head with brotherly affection, and then straightened out his suit. “Now, you should get some rest, the other will be here soon now that they know you’re awake, and you’ll need some energy for that. And I think, someone next to you might be waking up.” With that, Hotch quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.
You looked down at Spencer, his hand squeezing yours gently and his head moving against the blanket, trying to get comfortable again. You couldn’t help it when your hand moved to run through his hair, the soft strands falling against your fingertips and your nails scraping slightly against his scalp. He started to wake then, eyes blinking open as he let out a small yawn, but when he realised you were looking down at him, he couldn’t help but smile a soft smile that had you wanting to see more.
“You’re awake.” He’s leaning up in his chair, a hand still wrapped around yours and another coming up to brush across your face, feeling your cheeks heat underneath his fingers and the air slip out between your lips flutter across his palm. “The doctor said you wouldn’t be awake until morning, Hotch sent everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep because we didn’t think you’d wake up yet.”
“Sent everyone home except you of course.” You pulled him closer, tugging him to you until he was reluctantly climbing onto the bed, sitting so that his knees touched your left him, and he was on the opposite side of your wound. “Hotch told me you wouldn’t leave me, even when he ordered you to go back and get some sleep.” Spencer huffed, looking down into his lap until you reached up and tucked some of his long strands of hair behind his ear so you could see him more clearly.
“I…I didn’t want to leave you, especially when you were in pain. We had the unsub, the case was closed, I knew I could wait until after I knew you were okay to sleep. It’s not a big deal, I’m not even tired.” As soon as Spencer had uttered those words though, the young doctor was trying to muffle a yawn that made you giggle.
“Not tired huh?” Spencer shook his head again at your words, but you knew the truth. You could see the deep dark circles underneath his eyes, could figure out by the way he twitched and moved that he hadn’t had a good sleep in days, and by the looks of it, hadn’t slept since getting to New York. But you also knew that he, being the stubborn man he was, was never going to tell you all that, nor was he going to let you worry about his sleep, even if your heart ached just by looking at his tired face and blood shot eyes. “You know, you didn’t have to stay with me Spencer, really.”
“I know I didn’t, Y/N. But you’re my best friend and there’s no way I’m going to let you wake up in a hospital all alone, especially when you have a concussion and a bullet wound. And…I just needed to know that the love of my life was okay.” Spencer hadn’t realised what he’d just blurted out, but you certainly had, eyes widening and mouth opening in shock as the words sunk in. Love of his life…you were the love of his life.
And that’s when it hit you, when a wave of emotions came crashing down on your pain riddled body and you started to cry. Tears fell from your wide eyes, rolled down your cheeks and very quickly caught Spencer’s attention. He frowned deeply, brows furrowing and a sad look passing over his features as he cupped your face and attempted to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop spilling.
“Woah, hey, Y/N, hush, you’re okay.” Spencer didn’t really know how to react, but when you reached for him, he didn’t hesitate to pull your body in, being mindful of your injuries and the various cords that were attached to you. When he had you in his lap, blanket wrapped tightly around you in a warm embrace, you allowed yourself to bury your head into his chest, tears wetting his button-down shirt and hands holding you to him. His hands ran through your hair, and brushed over your back, letting you melt into his arms as you sobbed, and though he was still worried and starting to panic because he didn’t know why you were crying, he knew you would speak when you were ready. But that wasn’t going to stop him saying what he had spent years holding back, especially when he realised what he had told you moments ago.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you that right then. I mean, I have wanted to tell you that I’ve loved you since we first met, but…I didn’t mean to tell you when you’re in pain and in hospital. It’s not the most romantic setting, I must admit.” He heard you chuckle softly from where you were tucked into his shirt, and it gave him a moment of relief, knowing his words were helping if only a little bit. “To be honest, I think you getting shot made me realise I needed to tell you sooner rather than later, because I was so worried that you weren’t going to make it and I would never get to tell you how I felt. God, to think that Emily and Penelope and JJ and Derek, and hell even Hotch knew how I felt about you, but you didn’t…it was eating me up inside and I couldn’t stand it anymore.” You were looking up at him then, still resting against his chest but one of your hands reached up to let your pointer finger trace the line of his jaw, the edge of his cheekbones and his perfect pink lips that opened softly when he felt your fingers against his face.
“I’m glad you were here when I woke up, Spencer, because in truth I never want to be without you, especially now knowing you love me as much as I love you.” Your voice was weak, still wrecked from the lack of water, proper rest, and large dose of meds you were on, but Spencer was hooked to your every word. And as soon as he heard you say those three magic words, “I love you,” he was looking away and blinking his eyes rapidly, trying to will away the tears that threatened to spill.
“You know, loving me might not be the best idea, you’ve ever had, Y/N. Are you sure it’s not the drugs talking?” You chuckled at his words, but when you saw his face that was full of worry and fear and heartbreaking uncertainty, you stopped laughing and cupped his face.
“Spencer Walter Reid, I love you and there’s no changing that, sweet boy. But if you really want me to not love you like you deserve and like I want to, then why don’t you make me, baby?” Spencer couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face, nor could he stop himself from kissing your forehead, both your cheeks and your nose, before letting his lips hover over yours.
“Fuck, I could never do that, darling. I’ve wanted to have you love me since forever.” He was holding you as tight as he could, lips still just brushing against yours as he spoke, and for a moment you got stuck in his gaze, his brown eyes watching you with such love and adoration that you felt like you were going to melt right then and there.
“Spencer, please, I need…I need you to kiss me, please.” Spencer didn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours then, cupping your cheeks with his large hands and drawing you as close as he could, the hair standing up on his arms as you let out a pleased whimper and grabbed onto his shirt as tight as you could, neither of you caring that you were crinkling the material with you fingers. Soon the tip of his tongue was tracing the seam of your lips, and you didn’t even think twice about letting him in, only moving your hand to tangle it in his hair.
The kiss could have lasted minutes, hours, days, but the both of you thought it was far too short as you pulled away to catch your breath, leaning your head at the crook of his neck while he littered kisses over your scalp, your hands he gently picked up and any other place on your body he could reach.
“I’ve waited way too long to do that.” Spencer breathed out, smiling when you giggled against him, watching your eyes flutter close as a wave of exhaustion hit you. “And though I would very much like to do it again, and again and again, I think it’s time you got some proper rest.” You nodded, kissing him one more time softly before letting him adjust the pillows behind your head and help you lie down, tucked under the blankets and comfortable.
“Will you stay? Please?” You uttered the words as he went to remove himself from your bed, your hand reaching out to stop him and grab his wrist. Spencer looked back at you, at the way you were fighting to keep your eyes opened, but also at the way your eyes pleaded with him to not leave you. And he knew he couldn’t say no.
“Of course, sweetheart, I won’t leave you. Now, do you want me in the chair or on the bed next to you?” You motioned to the bed, now too exhausted to speak, but he just smiled, kicked off his leather shoes and swung his legs onto the bed to lie next you, above the covers with one arm draped around your waist to hold you close, exactly how you wanted him to.
“Thank you Spence…I love…” You didn’t finish your sentence as you drifted off to sleep, but Spencer knew what you were trying to say. And after making sure the covers were pulled up to your chin like he knew you liked, no cords were wrapped around you and your bandages were still intact over your gunshot, Spencer kissed your forehead sweetly.
“Sleep well, darling, and I love you too.”
You didn’t think you would spend a night in hospital while you were in New York, nor did you think you would get shot. But with all the pain, and the physiotherapy that came with it, you both knew it wasn’t the worst night you’d ever had. How could any night be bad when Spencer Reid tells you he loves you?
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Sundress
summary: You didn't think much about how you decided to wear a sundress to a BAU activity but Spencer felt some type of way when he saw you.
pairing: (spencer reid x f! reader)
category: smutish 18+
warnings/includes: innocent kink, fingering, dirty talk, and some petting or sly touches.
word count: 879
authors note: I decided to join @spenciebabie 's one-shot writing contest. I based this on this blurb that I've loved for so long and idk if I did the assignment correctly.
The BAU decided to have a little family picnic in Rossi’s backyard. It was all Penelope’s idea. Thinking it would be fun to have a cute little springtime get-together. Have the Bau kids do an easter egg scavenger hunt. Everyone will be wearing nice spring clothes, hanging around, and having a fun time. Just something wholesome, for this found family.
Or so you thought.
You didn’t think about how the sundress you put on would affect Spencer. It was a simple, short, sleeveless sundress that you got just for this picnic because Garcia was very specific that everyone had to be in their best clothes. It was this cute peach color that just called at you when you saw it.
Spencer stared at you with wide eyes when he first saw you but didn’t say anything. But you knew Spencer like the backhand. He liked the dress. And the fact that he hasn't taken his hands off of you since you got into the car, cemented that theory.
“Uncle Spencer!” Henry and Michael screamed when they saw their godfather and you entering Rossi’s backyard, hand in hand. The two blond children ran towards him, to hug him.
Spencer let go of your hand and grabbed the two kids in his arms. You walked towards the team that was sitting around with a couple of beers and talking.
“Hey, guys..” You said arriving at the table, waving at everyone.
“Hey there mama. Oh, I loveeee this dress.” Penelope said, engulfing you into a huge hug. You smiled at her enthusiasm. She let you go, and you sat down next to Tara who passed you a beer.
You hadn’t noticed that your dress had lifted a bit, showing your leg a bit more. Nobody did, except Spencer. And it was eating him alive. If you could read his mind at that moment, you would be shocked at his thoughts. But you are there, in your own “innocent” world, oblivious to Spencer’s thoughts.
Spencer took a seat next to you, and his hand went automatically on your thigh. His thumb rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Driving you crazy.
You tried to do small talk with the team and eat your food, but Spencer’s hand kept going up until he reached your panties. Your breath hitched a bit, and he slid his hand back to your thigh.
Spencer gave you a sly smirk before continuing to talk to Luke. As if he wasn’t teasing you under the table, turning you into putty in his hands. And nobody knew but you two.
--------------------
“Okay kiddos and parents. Let’s start the first Bau easter egg scavenger hunt!” Penelope clapped, giggling while Luke handed out the baskets to Matt’s children, JJ’s and Rossi’s grandson.
“Ready! Set! GO!” Emily said, and the kids started to run across the backyard. Everyone was paying attention to the kids, except Spencer.
Spencer stood next to you and pulled you closer to him, grabbing you by the waist. You felt his breath close to your ear.
“Have I told you how you look in that dress?” Spencer said, in a low voice. Goosebumps appeared on your arms. You shook your head. He smiled.
“Well let me tell you. You look so good in this dress. I almost don’t want to take it off when we get home. Just bend you over the couch and fuck you in it.” You let it a small gasp. He chuckled softly at your reaction and kissed you softly on the neck.
“How about in 5 minutes we go home? Would you like that, bunny?” He whispered in your ear.
“Yes please.” You breathed out. Spencer smiled at you and patted your butt before walking to the rest of the team.
---------------
The ride home was quiet. Spencer’s hand stayed on your knee. You were almost bouncing with excitement, and Spencer found that endearing. It wasn’t until you got to the door of your apartment, that you felt the air around you two change.
Spencer closed the door and cornered you against the wall.
“You know, I’ve never seen this dress.” He said, twiddling the bottom of the dress.
“I bought it yesterday.”
“Mhm.. I really like it. You should buy more.” He pushed his knee between your legs and started to kiss your neck. You gasped and gripped his unruly brown hair. One of his hands started to wander down till it reached your panties.
He passed the band of your underwear and started to work against your clit, you groaned at the sensation. He disconnected from your neck and put his lips close to your ear.
“Looked so good during the day, bunny. Innocent. But they don’t know how you really are. A little slut for me.” He said, almost growling against your ear. He then put one of his fingers inside of you, and you threw your head back, almost hitting your head with the wall.
Spencer chuckled and took his hand out of your underwear, you whined at his actions.
“Let’s take this to the bed before you hurt yourself.” He said closing in, pulling you by the waist closer to him. You put your arms around his neck.
“I’m going to ruin you.” He whispered before giving you a kiss.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid smut#spenciebabiesficcontest#spencer reid fanfiction
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Pathetic and Tragic
Summary: It’s been years since the BAU has tried to catch this unsub, so when Spencer figures out where she is, why did he feel the need to go alone?
Pairing: Spencer x Fem Unsub!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: mentions of murder/blood, slight bondage, hair pulling, choking, gagging, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation
Word Count: 2.8K
A/N: Hi! This is for a contest by @spenciebabie and I’ve chosen the one-shot prompt why don't you make me?
Masterlist
____
The case was never supposed to last this long. Spencer knew that, Hell, the whole BAU knew that. A woman with ties to the highest degree of one of the most infamous organized crime families should have been the FBI’s top priority, and for a very long time, she was.
Then the case got complicated, and while Spencer’s mind clouded with an unbearable lust for a woman that would take his life with zero hesitation, the team lost one of their greatest players.
It was tragic in every sense of the word, the way Spencer’s mind replayed their first interaction, his lips feeling her breath on him after all this time, and the bullet that always rested in his bag.
He felt pathetic in that moment, letting her take control of his morals with her vice like grip on his mind, body and soul.
“FBI, freeze. Don’t move.” Finally, the BAU had found who they were looking for since her first appearance on their radar 8 months ago. More importantly, Spencer caught her trying to flee a scene she had no business being at. She looked so out of place, the blood and gore that laid a trail to her small, almost fragile figure making Spencer believe for a split second that she couldn’t have possibly done this.
But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when she turned around to flash a wicked smile his way.
And Spencer Reid was the one who froze instead.
“Doctor,” she greeted with the utmost of poise and delicacy. “I do believe I have a job to do, so I’m sorry to inform you that I cannot follow your request at this time.”
She was taunting him, and Spencer would fall into that trap again and again if it meant her eyes remained on his.
But this was a criminal, a murderer, a sociopath, and he will not lose his footing this time. Not even for a flawless god-like woman.
“Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tristen Kepler, Michael Gerdinski and Harold Bennet.” Spencer’s voice was slowly losing its confidence as her face turned from one of pure hilarity to confusion.
“Is that all? You might be missing a few names.” She was proud of her work, it was insufferable. Spencer’s anger level was slowly rising, and if she continued to dance circles around his mind, the task at hand being forgotten, it was going to get dangerously high.
“You won’t shoot me, Dr. Reid,” she continued as she took a step towards him, the grip on his gun tightened.
“How do you know?” Spencer’s voice shook with the same uncertainty as his finger shaking over the trigger. She was right, he wasn’t going to shoot her, but Spencer couldn’t confirm the thoughts of a narcissist.
“Because,” another step. “I’m unarmed, and you, Spencer Reid,” another step. “Are a man of morals and righteousness, and justice.” She spit the last word with so much venom that the story behind her rage could have been the world’s most tragic villain arc.
The whole case was quite tragic.
“Don’t take another step.” Spencer was easily a foot taller than her, and with one scan could tell he weighed twice as much as her, but she still found a way to make his blood run cold with both fear and excitement.
“Or what?”
Spencer could’ve sworn he only blinked and she was directly in front of him, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. She had laid a fog over his mind, taking away his intelligence and peeling back every layer of his mind so only the thought of lowering his weapon in favor of getting on her good side remained.
She was challenging him to do something, but instead of the snake charmer charming the snake, she charmed him.
Spencer must have been hallucinating on the high of being closer to her now, but he could’ve sworn the crime scene they were in was starting to grow the same vines in the Garden of Eden, because there she stood handing Spencer an apple.
Like Eve, Spencer took it.
The second his gun lowered slightly, she pounced. She had him disarmed and on his back before he had time to process the feeling of her skin on his. If the impact to the ground didn’t knock the wind out of Spencer, her close proximity would.
She had a heel digging into his wrist closest to his gun that was only inches away, taunting him for his pathetic lust. Slowly, she bent down, entering the fog, black smoke mixing with his innocent, white cloud to create a gray that he wouldn’t dare call dull.
“I’m sorry it has to be like this, Spencer. Truly, I am.” Her eyes left his to scan his face before she reached over to his gun. The thought crossed his mind that she was going to kill him, but would that be so bad when he was breathing the same air as her?
She emptied the chamber into her hands, only leaving one bullet. He walked this road before, he knew his chances.
“One bullet, one chance.” She spun the chamber before slamming it back in place. “God, I really hope you live.”
For a split second, they shared a gaze clouded with desire for the other. Spencer let his mind fade into what her lips would feel like against his, or how her body would tremble under his. She had control now, but he knew from the way her eyes begged, even just for one second, she wanted him to flip the roles and take her right there. He would’ve too if it wasn’t for the cool metal that pressed against the side of his head.
Click!
An empty threat, yet she still smirked. “Today’s your lucky day, Doctor.”
She looked up to where a single headlight shone through the window above them, her hair trickling down to brush against Spencer’s neck, and he sighed at the small contact. It was pathetic, really.
“That’s my ride. See you around.” With that, she winked and ran off towards her getaway. Spencer laid there, taking in shallow breaths that escaped him during their interaction.
She had been stalling him, and he fell for it.
Spencer still carried around that bullet as a reminder. A reminder that he needs to catch her, she was too dangerous, and anything less than her being imprisoned for life wasn’t good enough.
It was also a reminder of how he felt when she was with him, over him, dominating him. Spencer never felt that helpless, that pathetic, that hungry for someone, and he wasn’t ready to let that go quite yet.
There was no new case that came in this week, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep that nagging feeling at bay when it came to her this case. They needed to shut it, Spencer needed to shut it, because maybe, just maybe, he could sleep better at night knowing he won.
“Delivery for Dr. Spencer Reid,” a voice called from the entrance of the bullpen. Spencer’s head shot around, finding a very harmless looking intern holding a small package in his hand looking around.
Cutting the kid some slack, he made his way over. “I’m Dr. Reid.” The kid smiled before handing him the little cardboard box. It fit in the palm of his hand, and was completely blank except for the small drawing of a snake on the top.
His blood ran cold, and his lungs forgot how to breath, just like they did a year ago.
A year ago today.
Spencer didn’t wait any longer, ripping the box open despite the strong glue that held it shut with its secrets.
Oh Spencer, hasn’t anyone told you not to open Pandora’s box?
The bullet inside rattled around the small container, one of the bullets that belonged to Spencer before she took them for her trophies.
She may have not killed Spencer, but she definitely took something more than just bullets with her that night.
He knew where she was, and she wanted him to.
Spencer could’ve told his team, hell, he was going to need the backup, so what stopped him from doing so as he raced for the crime scene that has since been cleared and reopened for the public to ignore the ‘No Trespassing’ sign?
Lust, lust is what stopped him, and it was pathetic.
Pathetic and tragic.
She knew he arrived, even if he turned the lights of the SUV off before pulling up the small warehouse. The air around her grew heavier with anticipation as she waited for Spencer to enter the room, no doubt waiting for the element of surprise.
She almost missed his light footsteps approaching her from behind.
“You’ve changed,” she called out. Spencer froze again, just like he had the first time. Was this pathetic enough?
“So have you,” his voice was calm, not caring for tiptoeing anymore. She was right, Spencer had changed, and now he took very little chances with instability.
“Yet here we are, repeating the same cycle as last year.” She turned to face him, and if she was less of a professional, she would have let her hunger for Spencer shine through. He had definitely changed, his hair was longer now, but still beautifully curly and framing his face, the one that was sharper, stubble on his cheeks.
Spencer was a man now, one she wanted to strip down to nothing both physically and emotionally.
“That’s not entirely true,” he shot back with a sense of cockiness to his tone, cockiness she had no patience for. “I’m not letting you go this time.”
She snorted, actually snorted in his face. “You cannot be serious. You think I would lead you to me just to turn myself in?”
“You’re coming with me, whether you want to or not.” There was no room for argument, but she had other plans. She saw the lust in his eyes a year ago, and though time passed, that passion when he was looking at her still hasn’t faded. She just needed to push his buttons a little bit.
“Why don’t you make me?” It was the final straw, the last drop of water before the dam broke, and Spencer made no effort to stop himself from taking her head in his hands and smashing their lips together in both anger and desire.
She moaned against his mouth, wrapping her hands around his neck to find their place in his hair. Spencer had other plans, because he grabbed both of her wrists before turning her around and bending her over the metal table behind them.
“Listen, Princess,” Spencer whispered into her ear, his lips grazing the shell as he bent his whole body over her to press her further. The cool metal was digging into her hips, but she couldn’t complain when it also meant she felt Spencer’s hard erection on her backside. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, and then I’m going to take you in where you’ll rot in prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”
“Only one of us is getting ruined today, and it’s not me.” Apparently, that was not the answer Spencer wanted, because he grabbed a fistful of her hair to pull her back against his chest, making her gasp and squirm against his strong frame.
“Watch the attitude,” he growled out before reaching down with his other hand to unbutton her black jeans. “Now let’s try that again. Do you understand me?”
She only responded in a whimper as Spencer’s hands reached inside both her pants and panties to run his fingers through her slick folds.
“Use your words, Princess.” She tried to grind down on his fingers, but Spencer was quick to remove them from her pants. Bringing his hand up to her neck, he wrapped it around before squeezing lightly. “Answer me.”
“Y-yes, I understand. Just please, Spencer.” She never would have thought that the awestruck doctor she wooed a year ago would be so rough with her, and the surprise just added to her need for him.
“Please what, Princess?” Spencer taunted.
“Just do something,” she barked back, immediately regretting her decision when he let go of her neck to push her by her head back onto the table with more force than necessary.
When she heard the click of his handcuffs, she started her relentless squirming. “What the hell, Spencer? I thought you were going to fucking do something!”
“Who said I wasn't?” He asked before completely ripping her pants down her legs, the cool air hitting her bare pussy, causing a shiver to run up her spine.
So this was the game Spencer’s playing.
“God, you’re already so fucking wet, Princess. Wanna taste you.” He gave her no time to register his words because Spencer dropped to his knees and licked a strip up and then down her folds, flicking her clit before taking in completely in his mouth.
Her mewls and groans bounced off the concrete walls around them, only urging Spencer on more. He suckled softly on her clit before flicking it back and forth repeatedly with his tongue at an incomprehensible pace. The knot in her stomach was forming, and at this rate, it was going to unravel fast.
“Spe-Spence I.. I’m g-gonna” Spencer brought his fingers up to her core, replacing his tongue with two slender digits.
“Do it, Princess. Come for me.” He pinched her clit roughly, and that was the final push over the edge, her moans loud consisting of incoherent curses and his name.
When she started to come down from her high, Spencer stood straight up again and started unbuckling his belt. She started to squirm and push back into him at his slow movements.
“I know you’re probably enjoying watching me struggle, but if you could please hurry the fuck up,” she said as she lifted part of her upper body to turn and look at him. She never got a good look, because Spencer reached out and slammed her back down before pushing all of himself into her waiting cunt.
She yelled out at the sensation, Spencer groaning before saying, “What did I tell you about that fucking attitude?”
He set a brutal pace, giving her barely any time to adjust before pulling out so just the tip remained, and then slamming into her with a rough, animalistic force.
“Ah, ah, ah, Sp- Spenc-” He grabbed her by the hair again, using it as leverage to pull her back onto his cock, making her scream out again.
“Shut up,” Spencer groaned out, annunciating each word with a thrust while he reached forward to shove two fingers into her mouth. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
She moaned around his fingers, causing him to press down on her tongue, gagging her. Spencer could feel the way she started to clench around him.
“You gonna cum, Princess? That’s it, cum with me.” Spencer’s thrusts grew sloppier as they both ran towards their orgasm together.
When they both finally reached their high, Spencer could’ve sworn he saw stars, his cock twitching in her pulsing warmth, milking him of everything. For a split second, their bodies had become one.
But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when his actions caught up to him, and he ripped himself from her.
She was still shaking and trying to catch her breath when he undid the handcuffs that were burning her wrists. Confusion spread through her as she used her arms that still felt like jelly to push herself up off the table.
“Why... why’d you uncuff me?” Spencer looked up through his eyelashes at her from where he was redoing his belt, his face unreadable.
“Get dressed. I can’t arrest you half naked.” He looked away from her with a blush on his face as she bent down to pull her pants back up. When she looked back up at him from where he was trying to see from his peripherals if she was dressed again, she caught a glimpse of the man she met a year ago.
“That’s not the reason, Doctor. If you have a question, ask it.”
“Why’d you stop?” Spencer finally turned to face her, catching the surprise on her face before it morphed into that same wicked smile that rendered him helpless last time.
“Would you have come if I kept killing?” He didn’t have to think about his answer, it was the reason he was hoping was true.
“No.” She slowly stalked over to him, but this time she didn’t flip him on his back. Instead, she cupped his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to nuzzle into her palm.
“I still have 4 bullets,” she said softly. They locked eyes again, but this time, the lust they indulged in melted down to a mutual understanding.
“I’ll see you next year, Doctor.” With that, she walked around him, shutting the door with a slam on the way out, leaving Spencer staring at the silver with no attempt to chase after her.
Pathetic and tragic.
____
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spenciebabie’s fic contest masterlist
here’s the entries for my fic contest!! thank you so much to everyone who entered! i love every single one of these pieces ❤️
Prompt Entires:
1. Pathetic & Tragic - @spenciegoob
2. More Than Words - @writing-my-mind-off
3. One More Time - @choosing-criminalminds
4. Hospital Bed Confessions - @willowrose99
5. Playing With Fire - @spencersawkward
6. Dessert - @luvofyourlifeliv
Part 2 Entries:
1. Pretty When She Cries - @gideonsgirls
2. Sundress - @golden-barnes
3. Is This Gonna Be Graded - @samuel-de-champagne-problems
4. Circles & Squiggly Lines - @luvofyourlifeliv
5. Like Decorations, Celebrated Memories - @neverlandwaitingforme
#spenciebabiesficcontest#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#Spencer Reid fanfic#Spencer Reid fanfiction#spencer reid
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pretty when she cries
summary: spencer destroyed her pussy. & now he destroyed her heart. but she’s so pretty when she cries.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
category: angsty as FUCK
warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of blood, & a very very sad reader
word count: 595 words
author note: based on this blurb & loosely on “pretty when you cry” by lana del rey for @spenciebabie’s fic contest!
thank you for encouraging me to submit my entry, i hope you like it!!! -🕯
angsty part two here
fluffy part two here
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the sound of her sobbing almost made Spencer fall to his knees. the love of his life was locked away in her apartment, but her cries rang softly throughout the hall. he didn’t know why he did it. why he chose to invite another woman into his bed. but he did, & he got caught.
the look of utter agony on her face that day has haunted his dreams for the past week. he preferred not to sleep. but it was all for nought, his damned eidetic memory made sure spencer could never forget the look that distorted her beautiful face. or they way her chest heaved as she staggered away from the door. or the way she wrapped her arms around herself so tightly, it seemed as if she might crumple if she let go.
he knew he shouldn’t be there, but no one has heard from her all week. he needed to know she was okay. he slid the spare key she had given him into the door & unlocked it. he opened it as quietly as he possibly could.
the apartment was a wreck. she wasn’t necessarily the cleanest, but spencer had never seen it like this before. books, magazines, & her seemingly endless supply of blankets had been thrown across the floor. photos of y/n & spencer lay torn on the leather couch. all those special times they spent together. they mean nothing now. they’re memories she doesn’t want or need.
a thin layer of dust covered everything. the mirror she had hung on the wall had been smashed. or punched, he guessed by the droplets of blood on the shards that still clung to its backing. he swallowed thickly. spencer was a pretty good profiler. he knew why people smashed mirrors. they smashed the mirror because they hated looking back at themselves. she hated her reflection. he made her hate her reflection.
“i can’t do this,” he thought to himself, but he went on anyway. trembling, he carefully maneuvered his way to her bedroom door. her cries streamed out from the crack under her door. they tortured him. each one of them felt like a dagger in his chest, slowly being inserted further & further.
he pushed open the door of her bedroom, and everything in front of him shocked him. for one, the bedroom looked significantly better than her living room. secondly, she was asleep. she was crying in her sleep. her vanity mirror had also been smashed. the dagger in him felt as if it was being twisted. drawing out every ounce of pain it could muster.
she wasn’t just crying. she was mumbling too. he moved closer to her bed to try to understand what she was saying. he manages to catch his name, but that was about it. he knelt down beside her to listen more clearly.
“i love you, spencer. i love you,” she whispered in her sleep, like a plea. over & over. he was elated. his heart soared. she loved him. this beautiful and magnificent creature loves him. then realization slapped him in the face. a plea. she was begging for him. no, that’s not right. she was begging him.
the gravity of his actions sunk in & his smile faded away. because, yes, she loved him. but he had ripped her heart to shreds. he completely decimated her self esteem. he hurt her & she blamed herself. spencer looked at her, his eyes lingering on her swollen eyes, her wet lashes, her puffy cheeks, & he choked back a sob. fuck, she looks so pretty when she cries.
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One More Time
Summary: Their love was years and years in the making, and even when prison quickly builds back up the walls they worked so hard to break down, Spencer learns just how strong the foundation of their trust is.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader(ish) -> told mostly in the 3rd person, from Spencer’s POV
Category: angst (?)
Warnings: mentions of character death (Maeve, Gideon), mentions of blood (Maeve’s death), slight panic/anxiety, language -> let me know if there are any more to add!
Also, un-beta’d, we die like the trash we are.
Length: 5.6k
A/N: Okay yeah so first post. So…this turned out much longer than expected? This is for Ellie’s ( @spenciebabie ) writing contest/celebration and goodness I’m so nervous because I’ve barely written, much less posted, anything in years. Anyway, I guss I decided to challenge myself to write this? I hope you guys like it?
Also, if anyone wants a new friend, please hit me up because I’m too shy to say hello myself.
Prompt was: “Why don’t you make me?”
-*-*-*-
“Trust has to be earned, and should come only after the passage of time.”
—Arthur Ashe
-*-*-*-
For all his genius, Spencer didn’t know what to make of the fact that he found himself inexplicably drawn to her.
It wasn’t until years down the line that he realized he had been exceptionally aware of her since they met, carefully observing, cataloguing the way she so gently and kindly defied every expectation and pushed past every preconceived notion he had of her. By then, she had already settled in a little corner of his heart and helped seal the cracks in his life that he didn’t even know existed.
But when she first joined the team as an intern, he was more than a little reluctant to get to know her. It was during the summer between her college graduation and the start of her graduate studies, and she seemed too worldly, too perfect. She wasn’t like the girls from high school, or even college, for that matter, who were simply mean. On the contrary, she was wonderfully polite and incredibly ambitious, intelligent, and very much the type of girl that was far too out of his league, one that wouldn’t spare him a second glance before continuing down whatever focused path she was on.
That’s why he planned to avoid her as much as possible her first day in the office. She had, thankfully, spent the morning in Hotch’s office, since he was her official supervisor, but when he saw them about to emerge right before lunch, he panicked, muttered a random excuse, and shuffled out of the bullpen, leaving a bemused Derek and Elle in his wake.
It didn’t help that he was ducking out of rooms while JJ was giving her a quick tour and making introductions, and almost every member of the team had cornered him, encouraging him to talk to her, to befriend her due to their closeness in age. (“She’s only what? Two-ish years younger than you?” When he mumbled that exact date, Penelope had broken into a large, wicked grin, poking him teasingly in the cheek. Gratefully, she held back any further comment.)
Spencer had blinked, a little surprised, when Penelope Garcia, who generally disliked change, had only good things to say. Remarkably humble about her achievements, and not in the standoffish fake way, Penelope commented after admitting she had run a background check on her. Genuine, and quite sweet.
Polite, Derek had said, if a little quiet, trying to see where she fits in the team dynamic. You should reach out, be a friend, he suggested.(Spencer ignored the very pretty slipped somewhere in the comment, as well as the knowing smile shot his direction when he felt his cheeks flushing.)
A surprisingly wicked sense of humor, was all Elle said with a sly smile. (Spencer chose to ignore that too.)
And when Spencer tentatively asked the man, Jason Gideon, a man of generally few words, had spoken of her, however briefly, with surprising fondness, because of course Gideon had met her when she was a child, because of course her uncle now headed legal three floors up, and of course her uncle was the last third of the BAU’s Holy Trinity, of which Gideon and Rossi were a part of.
You’ll get along very nicely.
Spencer was incredibly intimidated, to say the least.
And then when he couldn’t avoid her anymore (because of course they were desked next to each other), all it took for her was noticeably catching herself from extending a hand, then offering a small little wave and a nervous smile to leave him breathless. (He pointedly ignored the look knowing look JJ shot him.)
He tried to stifle the little seed of hope—that she definitely wasn’t interested in him, and her saccharine smile was nothing more than a false front to make a positive impression during a lucrative FBI internship meant only to bolster her resume—but the resolve crumbled quickly. She turned out to be so genuinely kind and sweetly humble that Spencer cursed the fact that the internship lasted only through that summer.
It also certainly didn’t help, either, that the very first thought he had when meeting her was a single word.
Pretty.
-*-*-*-
It was almost ridiculous how well she got along with everyone in the office.
She clearly made it a mission to make the most of the time she had and was more than willing to put in the work and prove her worth. Although she was technically Hotch’s intern and her main role was to assist the core field team, Spencer watched as she managed to get on absolutely everyone’s good graces through a combination of unassuming charm, sharp wit, and willingness to learn and to help that was so uniquely her.
For Spencer, it meant that she happily listened to what he had to say, encouraging him to continue when appropriate or saving a quiet question for later when it wasn’t. When she told him that she enjoyed listening to him talk, Spencer was taken aback, stuttering as he tried to figure out if she was only saying that to be polite. She gave him a gracious smile, ensured that she “quite honestly enjoyed” listening to him, and proceeded to ask a few well-timed and well-pointed questions to smoothly nudge him back to their previous topic.
Spencer stared at her, slack-jawed, then smiled bashfully, and allowed himself to hope.
(He definitely didn’t know what to do with the fact that when she knowingly reached out to his hand resting on the table and lightly tapped the back of his hand, he didn’t have his typical knee-jerk desire to pull away. He also mostly certainly didn’t know what to do with the fact that when her thumb grazed over his knuckles to sooth the tension he didn’t even realize he had, he felt an inexplicable calm ease into his very bones.)
-*-*-*-
“It’ll take a good five, six years to finish my J.D./Ph.D., but Hotch offered me an open invitation to join the team when I do, and I’m more than inclined to take his offer when the time comes.”
Spencer peered at her, breathing out a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. It was the last day of her internship, and she was making the rounds to say her thank you’s and goodbyes individually to the members of the team. He was the last one, and he had been dreading the conversation the entire day.
While he wouldn’t describe what he felt for her as anything beyond a genuine, platonic friendship—in the grand scheme of things, they’d only known each other for ten weeks—their easy companionship had become very dear to him. And he was terrified and nervous that her time with the BAU would be just a small chapter in her life before she moved on to the bigger and better things, leaving him behind as a fond but distant memory.
She laughed softly at his surprise, before it trailed off into a sigh. She then took a deep breath and asked. “Do you trust me?” Spencer looked at her, a bit dumbfounded. Did he trust her? Her gaze was heavy on him and the question weighty, a gentle demand for an honest answer. Did he trust her? Yes, he did, he supposed, they were friends. Right? He breathed in deeply, squared his shoulders just a bit, and answered in the affirmative.
As if she sensed his hesitance, his unease, she gave him a knowing look and took one of his hands into hers, fingers brushing over fingers, before hooking her pinky around his. “Because I promise you, Spencer Reid, I’ll be back, right here. You’ll be waiting for me, yeah?”
He looked at her in awe, the dim light of the nearly-empty office reflecting off her kind eyes. Warmth spread through his chest, and she smiled so brilliantly that he nearly forgot to breathe, to answer. To answer. He smiled back, twitchy, introspective, and considered the weight of her question. He nodded and responded simply.
“Always.”
-*-*-*-
She managed to remain on the Bureau’s consulting payroll over the next several years, though she was primarily based in the Bay Area as she finished her graduate studies at Stanford. The team as a whole still went to her for a fresh perspective when needed; she video called in to help on cases when necessary and met up in person if a case called them to California.
He knew that she kept in touch with JJ, Penelope, and Derek, and that Hotch and Emily (whom she met shortly after Emily joined the team and a case brought them to LA) were also friendly, if professional, contacts. Spencer himself was known to receive the odd phone call from her.
However, what had Spencer almost covetously pleased was that they had something they shared exclusively between the two of them, because she had steadfastly kept her promise to write to him.
-*-*-*-
Her letters were as beautiful as they were constant, and Spencer handled and read each one with care.
Her handwriting suited her; while it generally was neat and clear little scrawl, he knew it would get a little freer, and little loopier when she was tired, if she was particularly excited, or if she found herself a bit tipsy. (And yet she still managed to always write in an almost perfectly straight line even on a blank sheet of paper. He was envious, and when he told her as such, he could hear the laughter in her response as she wrote it a little more wobbly than usual.) And while he knew her to be tilted more on the quiet, introverted side of the scale, she had a way with the written word, each phrase poetic and thoughtful.
And they were remarkably therapeutic to write in return, Spencer found. Their initial letters mostly consisted of light banter about their mutual and individual interests, updates on the progress of her research (sprinkled amusing tidbits of her exasperation and frustration), bits and pieces about his cases and updates on and amusing anecdotes about the team.
However, over time, he slowly opened up to her, about his fears, his hopes, his dreams. And when he hesitantly divulged bits and pieces about the drugs, his mother, the headaches, he felt the relief in his entire body when she responded with empathy and grace. In turn, she did the same. She was vulnerable, she was open, and as wonderful and quite near perfect as he knew her to be, he was pleased to find her so incredibly human.
Those letters he slowed down to read, committing them to memory with more intention.
(He kept her letters in the drawer of his desk at his apartment, and eventually moved them to a specially designated box when he needed more room. When he learned that she did the same, he couldn’t help the tender warmth that fluttered in his chest. He still didn’t know what to do with the feeling.)
-*-*-*-
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.
It took six years, and an additional five months at the Academy (and then another few weeks as she was introduced to the legal team, with whom she would also be working with in her role as legal liaison), but she kept her promise and found her way back to the BAU, and it was like she was never gone.
This time, in her re-introduction to the team, she was a breath of fresh air.
When she approached him individually with a nervous smile, she reached out, then hesitated, and a sense of déjà vu washed over Spencer. But then, she had placed a hand on his elbow, and when she smiled, he breathed in a sense of peace and familiarity, of comfort.
“You waited.”
He smiled back, and in a rather forward gesture on his part, he adjusted so he could take the hand on his arm into his.
“Always.”
-*-*-*-
She was too good for him.
Whatever relationship they had—Spencer didn’t know what to call it, though friendship seem too trivial of a word for it—he knew it was too good, too perfect to last.
Because in a cruel twist of fate, her first case back on the team, however unofficial it was, was Maeve.
He was hyperaware of the neutral expression on her face when he finally brought his fears to the team. To anyone else she would seem serene and put together, but to him the slight sag in her shoulders and the realization transitioning to acceptance were clear as day. Spencer never mentioned Maeve to her in their letters, but later, in retrospect, he believed she had an inkling, at the very least. You seem happier, she had written, once, not too long after he first became acquainted with Maeve, and that makes me happy.
Did it? Then he didn’t want to know what his misery would do to her because then, Maeve died, and in his grief over another woman, he fought desperately to push her away.
She could share his happiness, but he refused to let her share his pain, his brokenness. She did not deserve that, and he would not be the one to destroy the beauty and sunshine and hope she brought everywhere with her.
But when they finally took Maeve’s body away, and when the blurred commotion of sirens and law enforcement and emergency services and constant hammering of half-hearted condolences and check-ins finally died down, he felt the blanket around his shoulders be adjusted, and a now-familiar pair of hands take in his own, firm, and refusing to ever let go. Thumbs traced over his knuckles as soothingly as he remembered, and only then did he begin to vaguely process the fact those hands had been tucked into his almost the entire evening, anchoring him through the haze and the fog.
As if on cue, she squeezed his hand gently, like she knew exactly when he was slowly becoming aware of her presence, and he suddenly found he lacked the strength to do what he initially intended.
Still dazed, he felt her shift, and she was kneeling on the ground in front of him where he sat on the curb, and softly drew him into a hug. Any form of resistance he previously had dissolved; he clung to her, tears stinging his eyes once again.
It’s okay, I’m here, I’ll stay, she whispered, I’ll stay, always and always.
Just don’t push me away.
“I-” His voice cracked. “I loved her.”
He paused, his voice weakening.
“I love her...”
Hands ran soothingly through his hair.
“I know.”
She always did.
“…so much.”
He didn’t need to see her face to realize that she was crying with him, for him—he could feel her trying to contain the trembling in her chest, trying desperately to remain composed. He tried to do the same, but when she tilted her head and let him bury his face into her neck, Spencer finally felt fresh tears begin to flow, and he allowed her to take his face into her hands and chase the tears with her fingers.
And Spencer wept freely, first for death of the woman he loved, and then for the tears and the grief he caused the one person he could call his kindred spirit, his soulmate.
-*-*-*-
He healed, slowly.
There were good days, when the thought of Maeve did not stir up memories of blood and fear and gunshots but, rather, of auburn hair and admiration and hushed conversations on the phone. On those days, he felt like he was no longer haunted by a ghost and could finally begin to move on. On those days, he could slow down, appreciate the small things again, and focus on how a pair of familiar, steady hands pulled him out of the past, anchored him in the present, and allowed him to hope about the future.
But then there were the bad days when her touch scalded and burned his skin. The warmth and the pulse of blood rushing through her veins and the germs on her hands and her life was overwhelming because Maeve was dead and cold and gone. So, with every glare and with every sharp comment aimed at where he knew it would hurt, he finally made good on his desire to push her away.
It was on those days the bitter voice in the back of his mind whispered how it was supposed to be Maeve, not her, there alive with him, holding his hand as they faced the world.
It was also on those days he chose to disregard the regret that settled in the pit of his stomach each time he heard his own biting voice, and disregard the horror brought on by even thinking of wishing she were dead instead. He began to ignore the tremble in her hands when she reached out to him and brushed her fingers against his in concern, and he ignored how she gradually began pulling back, hesitant, nervous that her touch would be unwarranted, unwanted. He certainly ignored the unconscious flex in his hand, the ache for the reassurance and comfort he had become so accustomed to—
He ignored it all until he woke up, one night, to an empty bed, and a sudden surge of panic rushed through his body and bile rose in his throat. She was right there, when he fell asleep, giving him a small smile and nod when he asked if she could read to him, to stay the night. Now, without a word, she was gone, she was gone, shewasgone and Spencer could feel the tightness in his chest and tears sting his eyes when realized that the only one to blame was himself, himself, himself.
Why, he thought bitterly, why was he like this? Why must he try to push away every good thing in his life?
But then, there he stood, barely aware of the tears on his cheeks and ice running through his veins, as he found her curled up on his couch, franticly wiping away her own silent tears and exhaustion from her eyes. He stumbled forward, upset, upset at himself because he made her cry again. And when she flinched when he cradled her face in his hands, apologizing to him, he nearly choked back a sob, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe away the tears that did not belong on her face.
Neither of them went back to sleep that night, and Spencer began to realize just how strong she was, as she gently told him through her tears the hard truths of his situation and where she stood in relation to him.
I can’t fight with a ghost, she had murmured hoarsely, but I can work with her legacy and her memory.
And then, with a pinky wrapped around his, she promised that she would be there to help him through it, but the only way was if, and only if, he let her.
It was that night (or, rather, morning, as the sun rose) that he began to come to terms that, whether he deserved it or not, she—and her pure and unadulterated goodness—was more or less a permanent fixture in his life, and he felt more at peace than he had in ages. And when the early rays of sunlight filtered through his windows and caught her in a soft glow, he found himself once again in awe. He reached out, hesitantly, and his heart soared when he felt the familiar pressure of her hand slipping into his.
She was steadfast and loyal and strong. She was brave, she was patient, she was kind. Moreover, she was alive, she was breathing, and she was here, present, by his side. It took time, and more painful conversations and more painful realizations, but eventually, the good days were a bit more consistent, the sun just a bit brighter, and his breathing a just bit freer with her hand pressed firmly into his own, her pulse thrumming beneath his fingers until his heartbeat synced with hers.
And Spencer was finally learning, learning about what to do with the fact that with her by his side, he felt like he could truly face the world.
-*-*-*-
Face the world he did.
When Gideon died, he felt his hand twitch, and the compulsion to escape and hide tugged at the back of his mind, and an old, nearly forgotten itch made its way from the crook of his elbow, slowly ebbing into in his veins and nagging in the crevices of the back of the mind.
But when he felt her hand slip into his, he felt it abate, the tension in his muscles eased. When her lips twitched into a knowing, gentle smile, he could see the underlying grief and frustration. Of course. She had known Gideon just as well as he did, if not better.
He breathed deeply and smiled back. It was weak, it was twitchy, and it was sad, but it was a smile, nonetheless. He wasn’t in this alone.
-*-*-*-
They were seated on a large blanket in a secluded park in D.C. on one of their rare days off when she pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, and suddenly it seemed like all the right pieces finally fell into place.
And when she whispered those three little words, and everything made sense. He looked up from where he laid, and again he was breathless at how the setting sun caught in her hair and reflected off her skin and her eyes. But then, when he opened his mouth to respond, the same three little words caught in his throat and his breath hitched, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to respond, to let her know that her feelings were returned, but the words failed him.
“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, and he trembled as he felt her hands cupping his face and fingers gracing over his cheekbones, “if you don’t reciprocate; I’ll live. But I just wanted to let you know–know that I’ll be by your side no matter what happens.”
It wasn’t until they were at the door of her apartment, when he found the strength to push past the nerves and respond.
“I do re-reciprocate, and I want–I want to say it, because I do,” he stuttered out, “but I just…don’t know how to say it yet.”
He suddenly felt like a prepubescent schoolboy, nervous and quaking and terrified. But then, magnetic as she was, she brought his gaze back to her face, and her knowing smile breathed air back into his lungs. His heart blossomed, and the fingers rubbing circles into his hand anchored his attention on her. “Then I’ll wait until you can. Always. Forever.” She paused. “Do you trust me?”
Spencer peered up at her, brows furrowed. Unbidden, the memory of the first time she asked him the same question floated to the front of his mind, and he couldn’t help the breath of amusement. The question caught him off guard, but this time, when he found his voice it was resolute, quick, and sure.
Yes.
He felt a pinky hook around his, and the now-familiar warmth bubbled in his chest.
“Good, because it’s a promise I intend to keep.”
This time, the tears her fingers caught were those of appreciation and relief.
-*-*-*-
And then, the sun set, and prison happened.
-*-*-*-
At first, it was easy to ignore.
Prison changed him. He knew it did, and he knew that she wasn’t naïve to the fact either. He was a bit harder, a bit more defensive, and while he tried his best not to show it, he knew she could see the darkness had just a little bit more of an edge. He was well aware of how she watched him just a bit more closely.
It seemed alright at first. It took a while for him to adjust; there were certainly bumps and bruises along the way, along with some admittedly choice words exchanged in frustration, but that was expected.
But he supposed it was the small things, and small things add up.
The first week her hand naturally slipped into his like nothing’d changed, but his grip was tighter and more desperate than normal, like she’d disappear or slip through his fingers if he didn’t. At the same time, he was also too terrified to touch her otherwise, as if she’d break like glass if his grip on her waist was just a bit too tight.
She never commented, gave him space, and allowed him to initiate physical contact.
She didn’t need to know, he rationalized, it wasn’t her burden to bear.
Then he began to hold her at arm’s length. She pushed, gently, and he pushed back, harder. He knew she was only trying to help, but he needed to figure it out for himself, lest he hurt her again. She only sighed, and relented. While her concern was apparent with how she watched him with just a little more unease, she gave him space.
However, while she was an exceptionally patient person, there was only so much distance and space one could handle. When she reached out, worried, and pressed just a little harder, he withdrew completely, and his rationalization slowly evolved. Stop hovering. Don’t need you treating me like I’m broken. Don’t need your pity.He ignored the pain that flashed in her eyes, the quiet desperation in her voice whenever she called after him after he refused to listen, and the increasingly familiar ache in his entire body when he began to avoid and refuse her touch.
It was the small things, because when the nightmares started, it wasn’t so easy to ignore.
-*-*-*-
“—eathe, Spencer. That’s good, breathe.”
The mumbled affirmations continued as he slowly processed his surroundings.
Queen-sized bed. Egyptian cotton sheets. Breathe in. Goose-feather down pillows. A firmer memory foam pillow that smelled of her shampoo. Breathe out.
Safety.
He was still bleary-eyed when he sunk back down, burying half his face in the pillows and ashamed as he mumbled a quiet apology. Her voice was kind, understanding, telling him it was alright as she tucked a stray lock of curls away from his face. When he seemed to settle back down, her hand gentle rested on his jaw, thumb absently tracing his cheekbone.
“Do you want to talk—”
“No.”
She frowned, sighed, took a moment to flick on the lamp light and collect her thoughts; he could see, through his lashes, the gears turning in her head about how to proceed. Meanwhile, he heaved a sighed, and sat up against the headboard. His eyes closed, doing the same as her. She then reached out, touched his hand, grazed her thumb over his knuckles and drew circles on the back. It started slow, hesitant—she was surprised that he didn’t recoil, and frankly, so was he—but the motion was familiar, grounding, so he let her continue. He knew it helped her focus as well.
“Spence, you’re…you need to talk to someone—it doesn’t have to be me! But bottling it up all inside, it’s clearly tearing you apart.”
“I agreed to start talking with my therapist, haven’t I?”
His voice was flat, defensive.
“But you haven’t, and…knowing you, you won’t be telling them the whole truth.” His jaw tightened and his lips pursed, his hand gripping the sheets flexed, and he looked away from her, intently staring at a random point in the room that wasn’t her. As always, she seemed to know him far too well.
She let out a breath of a sigh; she knew he was beginning to shut her out again. Her free hand lifted to his shoulder, rested in the crook of his neck.
“I’ve told you before, that you’ve started to shut people out. I know–I know you’re so, so strong, but you don’t have to face it alone. You don’t need to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders; we’re not as fragile as you seem to think we are.” She paused, contemplating. “If you need someone with distance that you can trust, call Derek, call Hotch, even, but remember, Spence, I made you a promise: I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
When he didn’t answer, still staring off into the mid-distance, she sighed.
“I’ll leave, give you some space. Think about it.”
She was at the bedroom door when he finally cleared his throat and responded. His voice was bitter as he bit out: “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”
A quiet ‘wha–’slipped from her lips as she angled toward him as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the sheets tightly.
“If you want to leave, fine. You seem to be doing that quite well recently. The door’s right there and you don’t have to come back until you want to make me a charity case again. But if you want me to talk, if you think you can handle it, then be my guest. Take a seat and why don’t you make me?”
He instantly regretted the words, but some dark part of his mind as pleased that he could see the anger and annoyance spark through her as she inhaled deeply and slowly turn around to face him in full. “I will if that’s what it will take.”
Spencer’s gaze hardened.
“You don’t have the fucking guts.”
A brief moment passed as she took him in full, eyes flashing. Spencer raised his gaze, challenging, daring her, and then, the same, shadowed part of his mind was savagely happy that he had finally gotten a rise out of her, because she bit back with venom.
“Fucking try me.”
And then, he watched her warily as she visibly froze, then deflate, her jaw tightening and eyes welling with unshed tears as she stumbled backward to the door.
“But–but not like this. Not like this. I’m–I’m so sorry you didn’t–you don’t deserve…” Her voice was quiet, but it was hitched with a swirl of emotions Spencer couldn’t pinpoint, and he was suddenly aware of the hot tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m going–I’m going to go…” He heard the doorknob turn, and suddenly the sound of gunshots rang in his ears, and he could the taste the metallic bitterness as blood and dead brown eyes filled his vision.
Wait. Wai- She was halfway out the door when he called out, voice cracking, and through blurred tears he saw her shut the door and shuffled and stumbled back into the room toward him, kneeling in front of him. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the whispers of his name and the urgency of the apologies. And then his eyes fluttered closed when she reached up to brush the tears away, and the motion opened the floodgates. It was one of the many little touches they shared—thumbs wiping over cheeks and hands cupping faces—and he had half a mind to shove her aside, but dear God he hadn’t felt it in far too long; he leaned, almost desperately, into her touch and he could hear her sniffling back her own tears.
Fuck.
He was always like this.
His passive aggressiveness was his defense mechanism; he lashed out blindly whenever he felt vulnerable, not caring who he hurt and how much. It was something she had been helping him work through, and he thought he was getting better, but here he was, hurting her because of it again.
Not like this.
He barely noticed that she had pulled him into a tender hug, but now that he did process the warmth of her embrace seeping into his bones, he wanted to push it away. He didn’t – he didn’t deserve this but now she was pulling back, and it sent a brief course of panic through his body, a fear that she was pulling away, away from him, away from the darkness and shadows that loomed permanently over him. He wouldn’t blame her, but–but…oh.
Her eyes always spoke volumes for her, and now that she had firmly tilted his chin up, her gaze firm, resolved.
“I know you are feeling vulnerable, and I know that you believe you can do this on your own.” She breathed in deeply. In turn he gazed up at her through his tears, as evenly as he could, and she met it without wavering. “You are strong, Spencer Reid, so, so strong, been so for so long. But…but I made a promise that I would always be by your side, and I’m never going to break it. So please.” Her voice hitched, and his breath caught in his throat. “Please, trust in me, one more time. Just one more time.”
Moments ticked by to the time of his heartbeat before he finally nodded, and the relief and the elation in her eyes soothed the dull pain inside his heart. This time, he drew her into his arms and into his lap and sighed as he leaned into the crook of her neck.
Thank you.
I love you, too.
-*-*-*-
“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.”
—Maya Angelou
-*-*-*-
#spenciebabiesficcontest#joy's writing#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic
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spenciebabie’s one-shot writing contest!
*the winners have been announced and this contest is closed! you can see them here*
hello everyone! to celebrate my follower milestone and to just thank every single one of you, i wanted to do something special! so im holding a little ✨ writing contest ✨
the idea is that i would like people write either:
- a one-shot based on the timeless prompt: “why don’t you make me?”
- or a part 2/sequel to any one of my fics or blurbs (from both @spenciebabie and @differentkettleoffishalltogether whichever you’d like)
there will be one winner in each category and they will both receive a spot on my main masterlist for their fic
but they will all go on this masterlist for the contest too
the rules are below the cut, please read thoroughly:
- given the nature of my fics being largely nsfw, minors or anyone without their age listed in their bio (or people who’ve reached out to me to let me know they are over 18) will not be allowed to participate. i will be checking!
- the fics can be smut, fluff, angst, a mix of all three, whatever, but should all be spencer reid x reader fics
- the posts must be appropriately tagged with content and trigger warnings
- the works must be over 500 words but there is no maximum length (just make sure to use a read more if it exceeds 500 words, if you’re not sure how to do that just ask)
- tag all entries with the hashtag #spenciebabiesficcontest so that i can find them all (and tag @spenciebabie)
- the closing date for entires is April 1st 2021 (I will be reblogging all entires to @spenciebabie and adding them to a masterlist for the contest, if you’ve posted yours and it looks like i haven’t seen it before the closing date please let me know)
the format of each entry should be as follows:
Title
summary: (sort description)
pairing: (spencer reid x reader etc.)
category: (smut, fluff, angst etc.)
warnings/includes: (any potential trigger warnings, alcohol, drugs, specific sex acts etc.)
word count: (minimum 500 words)
authors note: (if writing a sequel include the link the the work you’re referencing here)
(if you’re unsure of anything take a look at the way i format my fics on my main, and don’t be afraid to reach out with any questions)
for the oneshots:
- the prompt “why don’t you make me?” must feature somewhere in the fic and should be bolded so that i definitely notice it
- be as creative as you want with the use of the prompt
for the sequels:
- you’re welcome to write a part two for any one of my fics on my main masterlist or any one of my blurbs on my blurb masterlist. there’s no word count limit!
- the work that you’re writing for must be linked somewhere in your post so that i know which one you’re referencing
- multiple people may write for the same work, that’s perfectly fine
if ive managed to leave anything out or you’re unsure of anything, don’t hesitate to reach out!
ill be accepting entries right up until the deadline on April 1st 2021, and ill announce the winner shortly after!
happy writing! im so excited to see what you all come up with ❤️
#spenciebabiesficcontest#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#el speaks#im so excited for this!#ahhhh
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spenciebabie’s fic contest winners!
first off im so sorry it took me so long to post these! the deadline for entry was the 1st of april which was the same week i had to take an unplanned break from tumblr for personal life stuff, but im back now!
so thank you so much to everyone who entered, absolutely every entry was astounding and you’re all just so talented, which obviously made my job of deciding the winners very difficult 🥺
there’s a winner in each category and both entries will be put onto my main masterlist, but all of the entries are available to read from the contest masterlist!
so the winners of the spenciebabie fic contest are:
Prompt Entry:
Playing With Fire - @spencersawkward
Part 2 Entry:
Circles and Squiggly Lines - @luvofyourlifeliv
thank you so much to everyone who participated, and everyone who read the fics and gave the authors any feedback. i missed you all so much while i was gonna last week ❤️
#spenciebabiesficcontest#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#mgg x reader#mgg x reader smut#mgg smut#matthew gray gubler x reader smut#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler blurb#matthew gray gubler imagine
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howdy! im just posting to let people know that today is the last day to submit entires for my fic contest!
im currently very busy with some things in my personal life so it may take me a few days to really reread all the entries thoroughly and make my decision. which is gonna be hard because i honestly just love them all? you’re so talented 🥺
if you wanted to enter and you missed the deadline i am willing to give you a bit of an extension so please don’t be afraid to message or dm me and we’ll work something out
but a huge thank you to everyone who has participated by writing or reading!
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Omg I'VE MISSED YOUUU! It's good to have you back. Btw are you still gonna name the winners of the writing challenge? No pressure I just want to know.
-⚜
same! ive missed you too!
of course i am! sorry about the wait, it’s absolutely atrocious timing but im going to reread all the entries tomorrow and make my final decisions. there’ll be a winner in each category of the contest (prompt entries and sequel entries)
thank you so much to everyone who entered im sorry it’s taken me so long to announce the winners, this wasn’t how I planned it 😳
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do you have a masterlist for the blurb contest? i want to read them but can’t find them
i just posted it! there’s only two entires so far and if anyone’s written an entry that for some reason isn’t in the #spenciebabiesficcontest tag, or that I haven’t seen please reach out to me so that i can read it and put it on the list ❤️
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