G4rvez-r3id - Mya

happy valentine’s day everyone

crying brb (why is he not real 😞)

all those dreams where you’re my wife

gif by @reidgif

inside your mind - the 1975

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

summary: coming down from the highs of sex, Spencer and Reader talk about his brain and its thoughts.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 2.1K

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, this is an old piece of writing.

masterlist!

Panting softly, your breath mingled with his, your chest rising and falling in tandem with Spencer’s. Your body felt weightless, the afterglow of your shared passion wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Sweat clung to your skin, and the soft hum of his heartbeat echoed in your ear where your head rested against his shoulder. The intimacy of the moment felt sacred, a shared silence that spoke volumes without words.

Spencer was unusually quiet. Not that his silence was uncommon—he often retreated into his mind after moments like this, his thoughts working in overdrive as if the endorphins had unlocked new pathways in his brilliant brain. He’d once explained to you that post-coital clarity often helped him connect dots he’d never considered before. You’d always found it endearing, a quirk that made him uniquely Spencer.

But tonight, something was different. His quiet wasn’t contemplative—it felt heavier, like the weight of his thoughts pressed down on both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitated as they traced lazy circles on your back, the way his chest rose with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you murmured softly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His chin, which had been resting lightly against the crown of your head, shifted as he tilted his face toward you. His eyes, usually warm and filled with an endless stream of curiosity, now held a flicker of something else—something guarded.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were weighing his words. You could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he struggled to reconcile his thoughts with the honesty that had always been the cornerstone of your relationship.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but unconvincing.

It was a lie—a glaring, obvious lie. Spencer was many things: a genius, a profiler, a man who could recall entire books word for word. But a liar? Never. You knew him too well, knew the way his eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second when he was trying to mask the truth. He knew you knew, too, which made his attempt at deception almost endearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. “Spence,” you said gently, your tone a mix of affection and concern. “You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. Talk to me.”

His lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed again, this one deeper, as though the act of holding everything inside was physically exhausting. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t scare me,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He let out a breath, his gaze darting away for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You frowned, leaning closer. “Try me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

His hand moved softly, almost reverently, to the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, pausing now and then as though he were mapping the curve of your skull. There was something purposeful in the way he touched you, something that felt more like exploration than comfort.

“I wish I could know you the way you know yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. His fingers continued their journey, tracing invisible patterns that only he could see. “I want to be able to have your brain all laid out in front of me, every thought, every memory, every piece of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, his voice soft but steady as he continued, almost to himself. “The back of your head is at the front of my mind.”

He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to untangle the thoughts swirling in his mind. His hand didn’t stop moving, the gentle rhythm of his touch grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll just… watch you breathe.” His eyes flickered toward you, searching your face as though bracing for judgment, but his hand never faltered.

“I’ll watch the way your breathing slows, the way it evens out. It’s like… proof. Proof that you’re real, that you’re here with me. And then I start to wonder…” His voice trailed off, but the weight of his thoughts lingered in the air.

His fingers stilled briefly before resuming their gentle path, tracing the base of your skull as though it held the answers he was searching for. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “I wonder if you dream of me, or of the things you love, or the things you want in life. And I can’t help but think about how much I want to know every part of you. What makes you happy, what makes you sad, what you think about when no one’s watching.”

His other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His gaze was intense, those wide, earnest eyes searching yours for understanding. There was no shame in his vulnerability, only a raw, unfiltered need to be known and to know you in return.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re the most important person in my life, and sometimes it terrifies me how much I feel for you. Like… like I’ll never be able to express it the way I want to.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on your cheek, the other still cradling the back of your head as though he could hold your thoughts in his palm.

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it rested against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear.

For a moment, he stayed like that, his eyes closed, his breathing syncing with yours. His hands stayed gentle, as though he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of a love too big for words.

In the quiet that followed, his touch said everything he couldn’t, and you let it.

In the gentle quiet of the room, Spencer’s voice broke through like a fragile thread, hesitant yet determined. “I mainly watch you sleep because I’m terrified of my mind,” he admitted, his tone a mix of vulnerability and unease. He hesitated, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as if debating whether to pull the veil back on his inner torment.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his breath catching slightly as he continued. “When I sleep…” he started, the words trembling on the edge of his lips. “I dream that you’ve been taken. It’s always the same. I’m helpless, paralyzed—every step I take feels like wading through quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach you.”

His voice grew quieter, a raw edge creeping into it, but he forced himself to keep going. “By the time I finally get to you, it’s too late. You’re lying there…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, as though the very memory of the dream clawed at his throat. “You’re lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. And the only thing I can see, the thing that haunts me even after I wake up, is the ring on your finger.” The room seemed to close in on you, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such a confession. You’d never talked about marriage—not explicitly, at least—but there had always been an unspoken understanding between you two. You both wanted it, you both felt it in your bones, but life had never given you the time to explore that possibility.

But hearing Spencer speak of the ring, of the symbol of everything you meant to him, in such a terrifying, haunting context—it shook you. The dream wasn’t just about losing you; it was about him failing you. About the one thing that represented his commitment, his love for you, now twisted into something horrific, something he couldn’t escape.

Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You could see it now—the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he held himself. Spencer was afraid. Afraid of losing you, fearful of not being able to protect you.

In that moment, the love between you felt both fragile and immense. You reached out to him, your hand finding his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the storm of his emotions. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew how much you cared. But still, you squeezed his hand, hoping to convey everything that words couldn’t.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of everything good, everything I’ve ever wanted to give you. But in that moment, it feels like a mockery—a cruel reminder that I couldn’t protect you. That I failed you.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering in the air like a fragile echo. He looked at you then, his gaze pleading for understanding, for some assurance that the horrors of his subconscious didn’t define him.

“Spencer Reid, you could never fail me, not ever. Don’t ever think that,” you said softly, your voice steady but full of the weight of everything you felt. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours. You could see the self-doubt in his eyes, the fear that had taken root there, and it made your heart ache.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to hear you, to understand. “You’ve given me so much in this life, Spencer,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word carried the depth of your emotions. “So much that I never thought I deserved, but you showed me that I do. You showed me that I’m worthy of love, of happiness. That I’m worthy of you.”

You could feel the weight of your words sink in as Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It wasn’t just the love you had for him—it was everything he had done for you, everything he had helped you realize about yourself.

You gently pulled one of your hands away from his face, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand, placing it over your chest, just above your heart. “This…” you said, your voice catching in your throat as you pressed his hand against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “This is because of you. Every beat, every breath—it’s because of the love you’ve given me. You make me feel alive in a way I never thought was possible.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. The quiet intensity of the moment wrapped around both of you, and you could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the love—and you wanted to lift it off him, even if only for a moment.

You leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent promise that you were there, that you always would be. Then, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, you whispered, “Spencer, you don’t ever need to worry about failing me. You’re everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll never let you forget that.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and love, a kiss that grounded you both in the present moment. When he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, brushing your thumb lightly over his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. And before you could respond, you kissed him again, this time deeper, letting the weight of everything you had just shared hang in the air between you like a promise, unspoken but undeniable.

thank you for reading!

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist!

taglist! @pleasantwitchgarden

where’d my pants go 😦🧍🏼‍♀️ .

like srsly .

“FERTILISE US!!” screamed my ovaries

the wet hair?? oh im so sick 😭😭😭😭😭😭

me in math class :

This is so spencer coded 😭❤️, just thought u would love this https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNeoJ1EHh/

ahhhh it literally is!!

No One is Alone

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: Spencer realizes you guys might have more in common than he thought when he finds out your parent also has schizophrenia.

Category: Angst, mostly Fluff

Warnings: poorly written one-shot (sorry y’all), crying, reader’s father has schizophrenia, concerned spencer, reader tells a story about her father having an episode, reader’s father is a violent schizophrenic but this does not reflect on those who have schizophrenia! reader has semi-daddy issues, reader has hair but hair color and length is not mentioned! spencer being such a sweetheart! <3

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! back at it again with another lil fanfic one-shot? so i wrote this one to be kind of a personal one since my own parent has schizophrenia and honestly it’s one of the reasons i relate to spencer so much. i’m sorry if this affects anyone, but i wanted to write this one for myself :) i don’t know too much about schizophrenia, i only just know what i was feeling so a lot of this is just reader feeling a lot of feelings and spencer comforting them! i hope you like this one nonetheless! <3

You were constantly checking your cell phone. Every two minutes and ten seconds, you kept checking. And after that, you’d sigh in relief, rub your temples and go right back to work. You’d repeated this for over an hour and a half.

And Spencer had been watching it. Watching you. Of course, not to be creepy or anything. He’d just happened to notice and he was concerned.

You’d joined the BAU a little over less than a year ago and still not one person knew anything about you. Except Spencer. You often kept to yourself but somehow opening up to him was just easier. He never judged, never pried. Some might say that maybe that’s because he had a bit of a crush on you and you wouldn’t exactly deny the fact that you thought he was cute.

Spencer had looked away as he went to focus back on his work and then your phone started to vibrate and you quickly picked it up, nearly knocking over your coffee off your desk — and walked away from your desk.

“Hello?” You’d asked a little frantically as you marched out of the bullpen.

Spencer had looked around before leaving his desk, deciding to follow you out of the bullpen to see what you were up to. He’d followed your voice to an empty office and peeked in as he saw the back of your head.

“So you’re both okay?” You’d asked and waited for the response on the phone. Your tense shoulders sank in relief as your head bowed down and you nod, “That’s good. And Dad’s back on his medication?” Medication? Spencer furrowed his brows as he watched you nod along to the conversation.

“Okay, that’s good. And you sure you’re gonna be fine?” You asked and waited once more. “Okay, well, I’m at work, so I got to let you go.“ A small pause. “Okay, I love you, Mom. Bye.”

You hang up and put your phone back in your pocket and you take a minute. Your head bows down once more and Spencer all of a sudden sees your back bouncing up and down and he can hear you crying. He frowns, he hates seeing you cry.

Spencer decides to back away, going to leave you alone since it seems like you need it right now. But the floorboard creaks underneath his shoes and you turn around with a gasp and you finally see the man with a guilty look on his face.

“Reid…” You turn away quickly as you begin to wipe your eyes and your nose. “What are you—?” Spencer shakes his head and holds his arms up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just… I saw you kept checking your phone and I was worried so I just wanted to… check on you.”

Spencer walks into the room more and he can see just how puffy and red your eyes are and his heart aches at that. “Are you okay?” He asks in a small voice and you take a deep breath and nod your head but your eyes say it all.

“I just… I don’t want to bother you with it.” You say in a hoarse voice and Spencer wonders if your voice has sounded like that all day.

He walks into the room fully and shuts the door behind him as you sit on the floor and Spencer’s heart breaks even more as he sits next to you on the floor.

“You are not bothering me with anything,” Spencer tells, placing an arm around you to comfort you. Granted, he’s a little awkward when he does it but he still does so. “Will you tell me what’s the matter?”

You sniffle and look down as you fiddle with the ends of your sweater. “Uh… it’s my dad.” Spencer sighs, thinking that something may have happened to him. He didn’t know that he wasn’t far off from his hypothesis. You didn’t talk about your family much, just that you had parents that were still together and that you had a fairly normal childhood.

“He’s, uh,” You sniffle once more. “He’s not… well.” From your sentence, Spencer would’ve assumed that maybe your dad was physically ill but the way your tone sounded, something was off.

“What do you mean ‘not well’?” Spencer asked and you looked down at your hands, avoiding any and all eye contact. But nonetheless, you decide to rip off the band-aid. “My dad, uh, he has… schizophrenia.”

“And he had one of his episodes because he forgot to take his medication. And my mom called me and she was scared because he keeps thinking that there’s a family living in our basement. Or that I’ve been kidnapped by them. And my mom was so scared he was gonna hurt someone. And… he…” You pause and try to hold it together. “He… threw a knife at my mom.” You wipe your eyes once more. “They’re at the hospital now and he’s medicated and my mom is okay. But the way she sounded, she was so scared, Spencer.”

“He… he’s usually violent when he has his episodes. And the medication… the medication helps. On the medication, he’s normal. But he’s… forgetful sometimes. He was, uh, diagnosed when I was ten. I can’t tell you how many times I had to lock myself in my room when he got like that.”

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. And it was like his childhood seemingly flashed before his eyes. He’d been through the same thing with his mother. Hell, they probably shared the same story at one point. He had no idea you went through that, too. And suddenly all he could envision was a young you, going through the same thing with your dad and his heart broke again.

“It’s like… sometimes, I can’t escape it. And it’s like I’m a kid again and… sometimes, I fear I may… end up like him.” You start to sob again and this time, Spencer pulls you in close and holds you as he cry into his dress shirt.

You stay like that for a good thirty minutes until you finally pull away. Your eyes have gotten even more puffier and you wipe them with the ends of your sleeve.

“You must think I’m such a wreck.” You attempt to joke. But Spencer shake his head and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I definitely don’t. In fact, I understand.”

You nod at him, knowing his own history with his mother having schizophrenia. He was open about it but you never felt like talking about it, in fears no one would understand. And you never told Spencer because he had his own fair share of “crazy”, you didn’t want to burden him with that.

“I wish you would’ve told me this sooner so that you weren’t dealing with this all by yourself.” Spencer tells, he strokes your arm with his hand as you shake your head, “I didn’t want to bother you with it.” You reveal.

Spencer shakes his head at you, “You could never bother me. I understand this subject all too well. Do you know how many times a day I fear the fact that I may receive the schizophrenic gene? Let me tell you, Y/n, a lot.” You look down and Spencer looks at you, “I just want you to know that you’re not alone. No matter how much you think you may be. You’re never alone.”

With a nod, you grab his hand and hold it and he rubs his thumb against your knuckles, as if it’s serving as a reminder that he’s here, with you. And he understands.

“Can we just stay here for a minute?” You ask, quietly — almost wanting to kick yourself in the head for even suggesting it in case he didn’t or had other things to attend to.

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Spencer assured and you smile at him and thank God that he was the one that followed you and not anyone else.

You handled things by yourself since you were a kid. You’d always been independent and that meant you were so used to being alone and dealing with your dad’s schizophrenia, you didn’t think twice when you decided not to talk to Spencer about it. But he’d made it clear that you could talk to him if needed.

And maybe for once, you didn’t feel alone. And maybe somebody else could understand.

RAHHHHHH BREEDING KINK GO BRRRRR

Love You More

As newlyweds, you and Spencer can’t hold back the urges of wanting each other at all times [ 6k ]

Includes female reader; husband Spencer, kinda unit chief Spencer if you’d like; smut (+18): phone sex; p in v unprotected sex; breeding kink; reader is loud and talkative; (and so is he); a bit rough but still sweet and domestic and fluffy bc am who I am; multiple orgasms; after care; discussing baby names; brief infertility talk; Diana and reader are besties. did I mention how domestic this is?

Totally self indulgent but also this is my appreciation post to the lovely @reidgif thank you Eva for always blessing us with the best Spence gifs to ever exist <33 we love you and appreciate you tons mwaahhh💋

A framed picture of you sat on his desk.

Your happiness radiated through and made him smile every time he looked at it, taking him back to that day so vividly—when he asked you to be his girlfriend, three years ago. You’d captured that moment on your phone without him noticing. (He rarely noticed anything around him when he was with you). It was the hug right after you said yes to his question—chin tucked over his shoulder and your smile slightly covered by a few pieces of his hair that flowed with the salty beach breeze. The beach has turned into one of his favorite places on earth since then. 

Now, as newlyweds, he thought of updating your picture, or finding a companion piece for it, and framing one of you from the day he asked you to marry him, to keep the tradition going. If he did that, though, he would also have to find one to put there from the day you got married, which could end up looking like an altar of you.

That wouldn’t be too bad considering he had his own office now. The shelves behind him were still pretty empty.

Spencer sighed as he glanced at your smile for another second, then went back to his paperwork. He flipped through endless pages, and his wedding band flashed under the lamplight every time.

“Still not used to it, huh?” Luke’s voice entered the office.

Spencer glanced up just to find Alvez leaning on the door frame, his eyes glancing down at Spencer’s hand. Only then he noticed he’d been rolling his ring with his thumb. 

“Yeah,” Spencer merely breathed out, rolling the ring once again.

“I meant the office,” Luke chuckled as he stepped in and looked around, one hand tucked in his pocket while with the other he adjusted his backpack’s strap over his shoulder. “Still a bit empty.”

“Garcia said she was gonna take care of it while I’m on my honeymoon, so it won’t be like this for too long.” Spencer gave him a tight-lipped smile as he nodded.

“Now that’s gonna be interesting,” Luke softly laughed. “Where are you guys going?”

“Uh, Spain,” Spencer said with amusement.

“Huh,” Luke smirked. “It was her decision, wasn’t it?”

“Like everything else, pretty much.” Spencer’s cheeks flushed. He was happy with anything as long as it made you happy.

“Well, let me know if you need some Spanish classes, te puedo enseñar algunas palabras.”

Spencer quirked his brows. His Rs were much slurred than Luke’s, but he still tried. “Gracias?”

Luke frowned his lips as in not bad, then added, “Alright, just wanted to stop by and say goodnight before heading out. You should go, too. You have a wife at home.”

Yes, he did, but unfortunately…

“I still have a few more things to do.” Spencer waved Luke goodbye.

A single ding coming from Spencer’s pocket got his attention. It was your signature message sound, so he squeezed his phone out without a second thought.

It was time for a short break, anyway.

Y/n (wife) sent a video

Spencer smiled before opening the message, bringing his mug with steaming coffee to his lips. He was waiting to see your beautiful face with one of your usual reports about how the remodeling of the house was going. He had to admit, he felt guilty that he couldn’t be there and work on it too, but Morgan offered to help (since the house was one of his few remodeling projects), so you weren’t entirely on your own on this.

The preview was blurry, and what started playing was not what he expected.

At all.

Your hand—the one with the wedding band—massaged your bare left breast and ended with you tweaking your nipple and stretching it out.

The video lasted just five seconds, yet it was enough for his body to react almost immediately. Blood rushed to his cheeks, neck, and groin in an instant.

All while he spilled some coffee over his lap, choked on his last sip, and coughed most of it all over his paperwork.

“Shit,” he barely managed to breathe out between more short hitched coughs.

Ding!

Y/n (wife): Are you coming home soon? I miss you :(

God, you were the death of him.

He glanced down at his pants, then at the open door, and rushed to close it—lock it—and drew down the blinds.

His phone rang. 

Y/n (Wife) is calling…

His thumb hovered over the green button until the third ring as he cleared out his throat to speak properly.

Still, his voice came out tight and slightly panicked. “You can’t just do that.” 

Your devilish and adorable laugh tickled his ear.

“Hi, handsome. Did you like it?”

“Y-yeah, of course I liked it.” He cleared his throat yet again. He was madly obsessed with you. ”You look, god, you’re so beautiful, but I’m at work, wha-what if someone else saw it?!”

“I’d say they’re very lucky because one of those can be very expensive.”

As soon as he heard your tone, his demeanor changed, and his choked-up breathing came back to normal. He glided his fingers through the blinds just enough to peek outside.

Everyone was gone, so there was no need to panic, yet he said, “Stop it.”

And you completely ignored him. “Where are you now?” 

“My office.” He matched your tone.

“Look at you, so official now. I should surprise you one of these days so we can fuck on your desk,” you said and the mere thought of doing that fueled something in him. ”Would you bend me over and fuck me from behind?”

He didn’t answer right away as the image of him doing exactly what you’d said popped into his head. He’d love that, actually, sweeping everything out of his desk, bending you over, spreading your legs open as he undid his belt, dragging your pants down to your ankles…

“You know I’d much rather see your face,” he said. “And kiss your pretty mouth while we fuck.”

Every time, he let you know how much he enjoyed seeing every single expression of yours as he plunged into you.

Let me see your face

God, you’re beautiful

Show me your smile

There she is

“Is that a yes, then?” You challenged him.

Spencer paced toward his desk and leaned on it, facing the door just in case. “I can’t promise you we’ll fuck because you’re so loud.” He smiled to himself. “You could get me in trouble, but we can definitely do something, yeah.” 

“Would it be okay if I showed up one of these days unannounced?”

“So many questions,” he said through a soft laugh, almost to himself, then continued, “I, uh, yeah. Yes, you can always visit me. Whenever you want, just… don’t forget the condoms. We don’t want to get messy here. And I don’t think it would be appropriate if I kept some in my drawer.”

“And if I forget them on purpose?”

“You’ll have to use your mouth to get rid of the evidence,” he responded without hesitation.

You’d polished this side of him. So openly unbrazen to say out loud all of his darkest thoughts. 

Your provocative yet shy laugh softened him everywhere. “I’d be happy to.”

“I know you would.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d teased him during working hours, but it usually was when he was away for a few days and when you knew he was alone in a hotel room where he could peacefully take care of himself. And since the first time you did it, he learned what you liked and why you did it. You were frustrated, and you missed him and needed him to help you get off in one way or another. 

“Was that a recent video?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you think I pre-record videos?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should.” He teased you. “Are you still naked?”

“Mmm, almost. I’m wearing one of your shirts.”

Of course, you were, and you sounded so needy.

“Would you do something for me?” He reached for the picture at his desk and turned it so it’d face him. There was your smile. Your so beautiful smile that lit up every place you walked into. Even the most somber corners of his mind.

“Mhm.”

“Where are you now?” He asked, just to picture you better.

“Couch. Watching a movie.”

“Turn the volume down.”

The background sounds faded, and then it was just you, your breathing, and him.

“I wanna… talk to you about something.”

He didn’t, but his focus on finishing his paperwork was wholly gone, and since you became a part of his life, he promised himself you’d be at the top of his list, always. So he had to distract you to gain some time and get home as soon as possible because you needed him.

“Oh, okay?” 

“Remember the last time we fucked on our couch?” He asked.

He sandwiched his phone between his shoulder and ear and was quiet to gather his things—the reports he was now going to finish at home.

“You mean last night?”

“Last night, yeah,” he sweetly replied.

Last night was glorious. You’d decided to take the next step. Or at least, put a tentative date about when you could start trying to get pregnant. He still refused to finish inside you (despite you being on birth control), but he fucked you with the idea of beginning a family with you at that exact moment.

You had moaned his name until your mouth went dry and came around his cock four times. 

You just… Couldn’t. Stop. Coming.

He could still feel the ghost of your throbbing cunt around him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget last night.” You sighed.

Everything he needed was inside his messenger bag, so Spencer locked his office from the outside and hurriedly strolled to the elevator as he kept talking. “Me neither.”

“I… touched myself when I woke up this morning without you, you know, thinking about last night.”

“You did?” Spencer said before putting himself on mute for a moment just before the elevator dinged open. He entered it and pressed the button that would take him to the parking garage.

“I don’t know what it is, but every time you’re away I… I touch myself thinking about you…” Your voice was shy as you continued to tell him about your fantasy. He was two floors away from his stop. “Baby? You still there?”

Come on, come on, he muttered to himself, staring at the changing numbers.

2

1

-1

Yes!

“Even after we started dating,” he spoke immediately, sliding between the opening doors, then muted himself again. He took long, long steps toward his car, and after he swiftly got in, he turned the key. He hoped the purr inside wasn’t too loud as he put you on speaker.

“Oh, god, yes,” your voice filled the air of his car, and he already knew this was going to be a fun ride home.

“You’ve never told me that before.” He replied once he unmuted himself for good and started his journey back to you. He gripped the steering wheel tight. 

“I know. I… I would even touch myself thinking of you, come with you in my mind before our dates.”

So he didn’t imagine that scent when he kissed your knuckles on those first dates. It drove him crazy—your pheromones—and forced him to jerk off as soon as he got home. 

He hadn’t confessed that to you yet. But maybe it was time.

“That’s— wow, I didn’t know that.” He stopped at a red light and took the chance to untighten his pants by the crotch. Blood had been rushing through his erection since the video you sent him, and the more you talked… it just kept on growing. 

“I know, crap, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I thought it could be hot, but now I’m mortified.” You muffled yourself against something. “Why do you sound weird? Distant. Am I on speaker?”

“No! No, just… bad signal.” He swept your thoughts away. He couldn’t let you feel this way when he’d done the exact same. “What if I told you I did the same thing?” Your reply was a sigh. “Not before our dates but definitely after. I- I would picture you there in my bed, or in the shower, and I just… had to.”

You said something out of breath, then, “And you looked so innocent.” 

Spencer smirked to himself. “I never was.”

“Yeah, I know, you proved it to me. Many times.” Your smile was so present through those words… “Would you tell me how you did it? What… you did?”

His mind went straight to the first time he did it, and he had no trouble telling you all about it.

“It was… after our second date,” he confessed, then went on, in no hurry, as he kept on driving. “The night of our first kiss. When we agreed to take things slowly yet you still sat on my lap to kiss me. And we kissed, all night, just to kiss each other. You tangled your fingers in my hair, and I hoped you couldn’t feel how hard your kisses made me. How all of you had me. It was a cold night, but it felt like summer inside. I- I still feel awful for not staying that night as you’d asked me to, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to have you like that, but then, when I got home, I got in the shower and my mind went somewhere. A moment we hadn’t had yet but knew would happen eventually. I pictured you there with me, and I was already hard but wanting you there with me…” he trailed off as he heard you curse under your breath. 

“Keep going, baby,” you said, and he smirked. 

So he kept going. 

“I… hesitated at first. You were the one good thing happening to me at that time, and I didn’t want to… stain you by objectifying you, but before I knew it, I was stroking myself. And it felt good. So good,” he almost whispered. 

He was good at this. He knew he was so he kept going, telling you all about that first time he touched himself thinking about you. 

The usual fourteen-minute quiet drive turned into 9 minutes of not-so-usual dirty talking, and soon, he was walking through the door of his home with the phone call still ongoing.

It smelled brand new. Like paint and wood and incense. 

You were supposed to be here on the first floor, in the living room, but you must’ve moved to the bedroom at some point because he didn’t find you there.

“…my god, f-fuck.” Your heavy breathing echoed between his ear and phone.

You’d given him a clear sign that you’d finished one time already—sweet, sweet moans filled his car a few minutes ago, and he had to make a quick stop at the side of the road or else he would’ve crashed—and now you were going for a second one. And he was right there to help you through it. 

From the empty living room, he heard your blissful noises and he followed them upstairs, bewitched by your voice. 

The call remained ongoing, but his phone was long forgotten in his pocket. Your harsh breathing was closer and closer with each step, and once he reached the bedroom, he stayed by the door. Inside his home, he allowed himself to be like this: a pervert, sometimes, he admitted. But it’s what you liked and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this, too.

The door was cracked open, and he peeked through to delight himself with the view. He had to muffle a long sigh, but his face flickered with immediate pleasure. Brows melting, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, nostrils flared ever so slightly.

There you were, lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, naked from the waist down with his shirt riding up your back as if you’d stopped yourself from taking it off, legs spread open and a pillow between them. You were grinding it in perfect, short and controlled rocking motions. Back and forth. Side to side.

You whimpered against the mattress. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come again I—“

His cock throbbed. Jolted inside his pants, and his hand went there to calm the swelling.

“I need you so badly,” you breathed out. “So, so—“ your hips stuttered and began to roll and rub against the pillow until you released all the pleasure you’d been building.

Shit, he muttered to himself. 

He needed you, too. 

Reaching for his phone without tearing his eyes off you, he murmured, “You do?” quietly enough, pushing the door open with one finger and putting one foot inside, then another,  as he walked inside stealthily like the perfect intruder. 

He didn’t want to scare you, but also didn’t want to spoil the surprise, so he remained out of your possible eye range, by the end of the bed, and god, this point of view was so much better. You were something else like this. So immersed in your pleasure that you still hadn’t heard him coming inside.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, now loud enough for you to hear. 

But you didn’t. You were drowning in bliss; your hips never lost rhythm, riding the pillow, and your eyes remained closed, a slight frown over your brows and an exquisite smile.

That sight. He needed to fuck you right there. 

Without a second thought he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants with one hand while he stretched his other arm and reached for your ass, giving your right ass cheek a tight squeeze to finally let you know he was there. 

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered open, ready to stand up and fight whoever came here without a warning, but the moment you realized it was him—

“Baby,” you breathed out and let your body fall onto the bed with relief. “I thought– I– my heart almost gave out.” You then laughed a little.

Spencer walked to your side, leaned to kiss your temple and squeezed your ass one more time, murmuring in your ear, “Hi sweetheart, stay right there for me, yeah? Don’t move.”

All you did was nod. Willing to let him handle you however the fuck he wanted.

He took off all of his clothes right there and settled on the bed behind you, with his knees at either side of your hips, stroking his still growing erection to become fully hard when entering you.

You adjusted the pillow underneath you for support to keep your hips up and wiggled your ass onto him, using your hands to spread your cheeks open for him. 

So damn inviting.

“Jesus Christ.” He stared and gulped and kept staring, and his mouth watered. 

You were so ready for him. Wet and puffy. But he tortured himself for a moment, and instead of slipping his cock right in, he let it hover over your ass, smacking each cheek with it persistently, creating a sinful sound in the dimly lit up room. 

These bed lamps were new.

“Spencer, baby, please.” You lifted your ass towards him and blindly reached for his erection, but he pinned your hand close to your hip. You closed it into a defeated fist.

It was time to torture you now and let the tip of his cock simmer between your folds. Nestled there. Slippery and warm and soft. His hips stuttered instinctively and he almost slipped in, the gentle squeeze of the entrance of your cunt giving him a loving kiss. 

Always looking down, Spencer decided there was no point in holding back anymore and slowly–so very slowly–pushed his hips forward, delighting himself with the view of his cock being swallowed up. His gaze flickered up at your face then, that gorgeous needy face, and kept his eyes trained on you until he was fully inside. You angled your face toward your shoulder, shooting him a glance through fluttering lashes and a drunken smile. 

You bit your lip. “I think ‘m gonna come already, f–uck.” You tightened your walls around him and motioned your hips in a way that withdrew some of his erection and bent it slightly downward. Then you did it again, and your cunt began to pulse ardently. 

“Shit.” Spencer held onto you, hissed between clenched teeth, one hand tight on your hip while the other still held your hand in place by the wrist, now closer to your back.

It felt too good. You felt so damn good, and an early flutter grew in his balls and lower stomach, all while you turned into a whiny, moaning turmoil under him. Ever smiling. 

Right then, as you used his cock, all he could focus on was not coming just yet even though small drops started to drip out of the tip, but the pleasure snowballed too quickly for him to stop it. Spencer groaned, weakened, and let his body fall over yours, his hips just pressing and pressing against your ass desperately as you sucked everything out of him. Spurts of cum shot inside you with each jolt of his cock, and as his body naturally did that, the deliberate part of him searched for your hands and locked his fingers with yours, tight, pressing them on your sides and his lips and nose hovering along your jaw.

“That’s it, baby, come inside me, yes, yes, y-yes,” you encouraged him, and he grunted some more. “That’s so good, you feel so good, give it to me, please, please f-fuck!” Your voice went high-pitched, loud as you ever were, and he was sure you were coming again–pulsating and pulsating around his erection.

“Show me your face,” he whispered breathlessly at the back of your head and slammed into you. You cried out as an instant response. “Let me see your smile.” He slammed into you again, and harder. You turned your head, gluing your chin to your shoulder. He licked your earlobe, dragged his lips to the underside of your chin, then to your lips, capturing them into an open-mouthed kiss. You whined into it and glared at him from up close, nose to nose, and smiled sweetly. 

Every part of him softened with love. 

“There she is.” He smiled, too. “There’s my girl.”

“I love you so much, baby.” You breathed out.

Sweet nothings slipped through his lips to your skin about how much he loved you too, how good you felt, how good you were to him, and he stayed there, intentionally twitching his cock inside you as another way of showing you his love.

After a moment, he gave you one last messy kiss and straightened up with a grunt, allowing his cock to slip out. His cum dripped out of you like melting caramel, cascading down to the pillow that was so flattened out now, there was no purpose for it anymore. He yanked it out, tossed it to the floor, and snatched you close by your hips to lift them up, ready to go for a second round. A single spank there on your cheek to let you know that this was still going. 

You’ve trained him for this—coming multiple times in a row. It was torture the first few times (a good kind of torture, of course, one he much enjoyed), then it was the only way sex always went. Finishing once, then coming back inside you for a second one and third, giving his cock no chance to soften. 

No exceptions.

He used his own cum as lube, smearing it all over—up to your clit, between your swollen folds and back to your opening. Pushed the tip in, then drilled into you. Fuck, you were somehow tight now, sensitive by your many orgasms most likely, but you gave him no sign of discomfort. Instead, you took the lead and withdrew to slam back onto him, ready to keep going, too. 

Then he continued. The globes of your ass bounced and smacked against his lower stomach with each new thrust and this desperate rapped out cadence had his thighs stinging. But it was thrilling, so exquisite it went on for a long while, and you never ceased to let him know how much you were enjoying this. Moaning, whining, gripping the bed covers, and every once in a while reaching for the hand holding onto you.

Until you got tired from being with your face pressed down to the mattress.

There was no need to vocalize any of it, and agreed with a glance followed by a kiss that it was time to change positions. 

With even more kisses in between, Spencer lay down with his upper back pressed to the headboard and made himself more comfortable with a few pillows behind him, ready to have you riding him. You finally took off your shirt and settled on top of him. He couldn’t help but sit up right to take one of your breasts into his mouth, just to show you how much he loved them. Nuzzled his nose into your flesh while you sank into his erection. He hummed around your nipple and wrapped his arms around you into a hug to bring you with him as he settled back. 

“I’m gonna move fast, baby, I need to thrust so badly.”

“Go ahead,” he replied, peeling off your breast and looking up at you.

You were beautiful like this, in charge yet so cock-drunk.

You supported both hands under his ribs, not quite pressing but rather holding onto him, and did as you’d said—as you’d warned him. The prowess of your hips turned him into a groaning chaos. His feet tensed and his thighs clenched and unclenched trying to hold it together, but fuck, you were so good at this.

“You’re so h-hard, Spence, fuck.” Your eyes fluttered closed and bit your bottom lip through a smile and little laugh. 

So good, so fucking good, so hard, baby, you continued to praise him through clenched teeth.

He was, he so fucking was, it was a matter of a few more thrusts that he came again. 

His face twitched with the almost unbearable pleasure you were giving him, bouncing your ass up and down and giving him rolling motions in between that allowed your cunt to wrap around every curve of his cock. 

“’m gonna come again mm—!” Your cunt tightened and stayed tight while you kept moving, then those familiar pulses caressed his erection. “My god, you feel so fucking good, so b-big.”

Your hips lost rhythm, only spasmed persistently, but kept his cock curved in the way you so much liked and as you kept moving, you went silent. Focused. Eyes closed, brows low. Shaky breaths caged on your throat.

“That’s it, use my cock,” Spencer encouraged you. His mouth was dry.

Then you released it. All at once. A shaky yelp, relaxed and silky cunt. “Oh, sh-shit, baby, I’m coming, y-yess!” 

So was he. Fuck fuck fuck he was so close to coming too. He loved it when this magical synchronization happened. 

“Don’t stop,” he breathed out. He needed to come with you, so he built his pleasure some more by taking you in, all of you, and chased it and began to express it before it struck him fully. With short breathless groans and loving kisses on your arms, now that you were holding onto him by his sweaty shoulders. “Don’t stop, feels so good.”

Your voices blended together in the air and soon, your orgasms did, too.

“fucking god.” Spencer groaned, staring down at where your bodies met. 

His hands roamed across your sides, from your ribs to your hips and thighs then back to your ass and the arch of your back.

“One more, baby. You can come once more for me,” you told him, cupping his jaw. “Yeah? You just feel so good, I don’t want this to end.”

He knew he had it in him. A third one, it was right there even when he was barely out of the second one. 

Baby, please, you begged next to his ear.

Yeah, he definitely had a third one.

He harshly handled you so you’d be lying down instead, and he settled between your legs, entered you and ruthlessly pounded into you, mouths clasped together as you both moaned into each other, sharing a single, agitated breath. 

“Yes, yes, yes baby!” you cried out. “Come in me again.” 

Spencer tucked his face on your neck, blindly hooked his arms under your thighs to bend your legs and bring them up and with his eyes closed he still pictured you, as if he wasn’t right there on your arms. 

“Ah, sweetheart,” Spencer exhaled a groan. “You make me crazy.” He then hummed and nibbled your neck and spoke into your hot skin. “So fucking crazy.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Keep talking to me.” Spencer lifted his face from your neck and glued his lips to yours. “Like this, yeah.” 

You swept your tongue along his and as he kept plunging into you, in and out, creating a wet mess between your bodies, he said, “I want to get you pregnant so bad.”

“Yeah?” you replied, so damn whiny.

“Yeah, baby.” Spencer tugged your bottom lip between gentle teeth and morphed it into a kiss. His balls tightened; his cock spasmed. “Ah, fuck, there it is. I’m c-coming again.” 

“Yes, baby, do it, come inside me, please.”

Come in me, you repeated, and he clung into your embrace, thrusting and thrusting and groaning until he released inside you through a low and deep grunt that you gladly kissed and moaned into, too. Then the pleasure ripped through him so hard it almost jumped through his skin. 

There was nothing left inside him anymore. He felt drained in the most exhilarating way, so he stayed there in your arms for a moment. You gently tapped his arm so he’d let your legs go, and you relaxed them right away. Your muscles were trembling.  

“That was so good, baby.” You panted, and clammed your cunt around him as you adjusted your body under him. While still inside you, Spencer kissed your neck then brought his mouth to your lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to receive his lazy kisses with much more strength. “Thank you.” 

You then peppered kisses all over his sweaty face, which gave him enough fuel to move a little, falling on your side at last.

He took the longest, joyful breath.

“Tired?” You asked him.

You were quick to reach for wipes and began to clean yourself and him. An excess of cum pooled around his now softer cock and with so much care, you cleaned it all. 

“Sleepy,” he replied, and continued cleaning himself with another wipe as his eyes closed. His voice was barely there.

“Do you need something?” You pecked the corner of his mouth.

“I’m good.” He shook his head.

“‘Kay.” You kissed him again. “I’ll be right back.” 

You slipped from his side with a huff. An exhausted huff. He squinted one eye open to get a glimpse of you, and your legs wobbled as you bent to pick up something. He couldn’t hold back a mocking laugh.

You laughed along, shooting him a teasing smile. “You’re proud, aren’t you?”

“Mhm I am.” He raised his brows at you. 

His breathing was more regulated when you came back from the bathroom break. Still naked, you joined him in bed again, lying on your stomach.

Just to stare at him.

And play with his hair.

And steal some kisses.

“What did you do today?” He asked you, turning to face you. His hand mindlessly went to your back, and caressed you along your spine with his fingers with feather-light glides.

“I went tile shopping with Derek.” You brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead. “A cream tone for the kitchen and a light blue for the guest bathroom. Savannah and little Hank joined us for lunch, then I came back to paint the kitchen cabinets.” You then sweetly shrugged.

“Sage green?” His hand stopped briefly.

Your face lit up. “How do you know?” 

“I know things,” he said with a cocky grin and continued his motions along your back. He just saw the paint in the living room. “What else did you do?”

“I talked to Diana.”

“I called her today, too,” he raised his brows at the coincidence. 

“Well, she called me.” You countered with slight humor. “I thought she’d gotten the numbers mixed up, but she didn’t.” 

The proud look on your face was… endearing. 

“And what did she say?”

“She was wondering when I was going to visit her.”

“She didn’t ask about me?” He asked, mildly offended.

You shook your head and didn’t give him much time to think of it as you continued, “So, I was thinking, after Spain, we can make a stop in Vegas for a few days?”

“I like that, yeah.”

“And did you tell her, perhaps, about us and babies?”

“I don’t think so.” He quirked his brows. “Why?”

“She hinted at something, but maybe I’m thinking too much of it.”

“Tell me.”

You held the thought for a second, your eyes wandering around to explain, “She told me about how this woman from her home had a son and that he’d recently brought his newborn baby to meet her. She said how she could almost picture you doing the same someday.” You shrugged. “Then proceeded to say how the baby’s cry annoyed her.”

A heartily laugh rolled from his chest. 

This, knowing how his mom called you to just chat, was a dream come true. 

“Anyway, I don’t know why I asked her if she knew the baby’s name, but she didn’t, which made me think of baby names. For our future baby.” 

Spencer leaned and teased you by your ear. “You did?”

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I don’t know why, but I feel like… We’ll have a girl first.”

First. So you wanted more than one.

His chest fluttered. “And what’s her name?”

“You’re gonna laugh.” You covered your face with your palms.

“Tell me.” He reached for your fingers and gently peeled one hand away, bringing it to his lips. To kiss you. To nibble you.

“Sage.” You said, and your eyes glimmered. “I saw the name when I was searching for paint colors and something about it felt… right.”

“Sage,” he said in deep thought.

“Mhm. Sage Reid. Or Scout. I like that one too. Or Sadie. Definitely a name that starts with an S.” You drew lines over his chest. “I really like your initials.”

Spencer planted a kiss on your cheek and spoke right there with his lips brushing over your skin. “She could have my initials, but I’m sure she’ll have your eyes.”

You hummed, then something in you shifted.

“Spence, what if… we struggle to get pregnant?”

He frowned, pulling back to stare and try to read you. Something told him this uncertainty has been there for a while.

“Is this something you think about a lot?”

“No?” You frowned. “Not a lot, but it’s definitely a thought, I guess.”

“We’re not in a rush.” He lifted one hand to cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek. “So, I don’t think struggle is a word if it takes us a while.”

“Yeah.” You let out a long sigh and snuggled into his embrace, one leg propped over his. “Do you think it’s late?”

“It was late when I left the office, so probably.” A soft kiss on the top of your head. “Why?”

“I haven’t eaten.” You grumbled. “And I have to shower, again.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, kissing your temple. “Let’s shower first, then we’ll make something to eat.” You groaned again in protest. “Just stand there. I’ll soap up your gorgeous body.”

“And wash my hair?” You lifted your head to look at him.

“Double shampooing if you want.”

Eva if you made it to the end, I know it’s not exactly what we once talked about, but this was the result 🥹 I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 💋

Dear reader, please don't hesitate to let me know what you thinkkkk. I'd love to read all of your thoughts

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTRELIST

the people have spoken! smut it is 🙈