Mgg X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
My requests are still open!
Rules
I don't write smut
Be respectful when asking me for something
Check if the character or celebrity is on my writing list, if not, send me a message so we can work this out together
Understand that I can take a long time with requests, it's not for lack of will, but if I'm going to do something for someone, I want it to be done right.
I hope you don't give up on a dream just because someone said it won't work.
I just reached 1,000 followers!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️🥺
YES I AM SO HAPPY!! 💞💞
Thank you for that, writing makes me very happy and it's a pleasure to do this for you, thank you for following me, it means the world to me!
Home Run - Spencer Reid
Wordcount: 2.6k
Summary: The FBI's baseball team needs a fill in for their game against the Secret Service, Morgan being able to convince Reid to take up the role. However, the boy genius does not have an athletic bone in his body, Morgan recruiting the genius' girlfriend to help.
Warnings: some swearing, Spencer is like a baseball magnet
A/N: my inbox is open! Currently working on my first request right now, and will hopefully have it posted tomorrow! This also can 100% be read as a standalone, though it's kind of a continuation of my first Spencer fic "Smooth Criminal". All information needed is in this fic as well though! ok ill stop yapping
-------------------
It might have been the worst day of Spencer’s life.
Trudging along the field as sweat trickled down his neck and back, the sun beaming down at his pale, vulnerable skin. His tongue was dry, throat closing in on him. He could see spots clouding his vision.
This wasn’t good.
“Jesus, Reid, we just got out of the car,” Morgan chuckled, hitting Spencer’s back, “This isn’t a desert,”
It wasn’t a desert, it was actually a baseball field. Which was just as bad to the boy genius.
“You couldn’t ask Hotch or Rossi to do this?” Spencer mumbled nervously, eyeing the field as if some jock baseball player was going to come out of the dug out and murder him.
“You’re young. Nice and nimble. Lots of potential-”
“They said no?”
“Yes, they said no,” Morgan sighed, placing down his bag on a bench in the dug out. Spencer did the same, awkwardly looking around once again. “Look, it’s only for one day,”
“One day too many,”
Morgan shot him a look, taking out his baseball glove and a ball, “We’ll start simple with some catching and throwing, yeah?”
“This is so embarrassing,” Reid grumbled, grabbing his glove as well (which he has never used before, just buying it this morning).
“Did you break it in like I told you to?”
He shook his head, “I got it two hours ago…”
Another sigh left his friend, who walked out into the disgusting sun. Spencer hesitantly followed.
And within fifteen minutes, Spencer was laid out on the ground in a starfish position, his life flashing before his very eyes. He thought this was the end.
“Shit! Reid! Reid!” Morgan sprinted towards the young genius, crouching next to his still figure, “Are you okay?” he touched Spencer’s cheek, already starting to turn red after connecting with the ball.
“Shit, that hurts!” Spencer hissed, slapping Morgan’s hand away. The first sign of life. He slowly sat up, cradling his cheek, “I feel concussed,” his other hand went to the back of his head.
“Be for real,” Derek muttered in worry, “It’s that bad?” Spencer had quite a low pain tolerance, so neither of them could tell how bad this really was. “I mean, you almost passed out just being in the sun.”
“I could feel my cells mutating,”
“Let’s hope you’re just being dramatic,”
_________________
Luckily for them, Spencer was being dramatic, and was back to normal activity the day after.
Like most days, his girlfriend, Y/N, drove into the bureau parking lot and parked, waiting for Spencer to get out of work. She was reading sheet music for her next show when there’s a knock on their window, making her gasp, snapping her head in the direction of her window.
Derek Morgan.
With a sigh, she pressed the button, window inching down slowly, “What the fuck was that for?”
Morgan laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, “Sorry, Y/N. I know Spencer is trying desperately to keep you away from the team, especially after the fiasco last time we saw you, but…”
Ah, yes. Last time. Y/N and Spencer have been dating for a year, but he has kept the relationship extremely secretive from his team, until Garcia was able to finally crack the case and find pretty much everything to know about her, discovering she was a diagnosed kleptomaniac. The team (minus Hotch, who was peacefully in his office during the whole ordeal) was completely eager to meet this kleptomaniac girlfriend, and Y/N had a) admitted to not being able to pronounce JJ’s last name, and b) stole Rossi’s keys.
Yeah, Spencer wanted his girlfriend and friends far, far away from each other.
“I really need your help.” Morgan finished.
“With what?” She asked in curiosity.
“I don’t mean to creep you out, but when Garcia did her whole ‘background check’ on you, or whatever you would want to call it, she found you used to play softball?”
“Yes, I’ve played since I was five,” She confirmed with a nod, “Still do, occasionally,”
“Well, the FBI has this little team I play on, and next weekend we’re going against the secret service, but we’re short one player, one of us has an injury. I convinced Spencer to fill in,” he noticed Y/N’s shocked expression, “Yeah, I know. I convinced him to fill in, really because no one else wanted to, and we went to practice yesterday-”
“Oh, yes! He’s got a huge bruise on his cheek, he said it was from some special training though,” Y/N laughed, “I guess he was embarrassed. He was hit by a ball?”
“Yes, he was on the grass fifteen minutes into our practice. It’s bad. He doesn’t even want to practice anymore, but I need him for that game. We haven’t beaten the secret service in years.”
“So you want me to convince him?” She concluded.
“Not just that. Maybe he’ll be more willing to learn if you’re also there to teach him?”
“Hm,”
Derek frowned, “Please, Y/N?”
She playfully narrowed her eyes at him, “How much?”
“What?”
“How much did you bet on this game?”
“Oh,” he awkwardly cleared his throat, “Five hundred,”
“Damn,” she whistled, “We gotta whip Spencer into shape,”
___________________
Spencer loved Y/N.
He loved her dearly.
However, right now he hated her with a burning passion.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Morgan asked as Spencer ran from home to first base. “What if this just makes him quit again?”
She had Spencer running laps. “He won’t.”
He only did two runs around the diamond before he came back to them, panting dramatically, hands on his knees, “Why… why do I have to… do this?” he gasped.
“Because, drama king, when you hit that ball, which you will, you need to be able to get to the bases on time,” Y/N replied, handing him a bottle of water.
“This is hopeless,” he began to carefully sip the water, not wanting to choke in his desperation for hydration.
“We just started, baby” Y/N sighed, rubbing his back, “Now, c’mon, break’s over. Two more laps and we’ll practice catching and throwing,”
“I hate you,” Spencer huffed, handing the water back to her. However, he went back to running.
“I love you too, darling,” Y/N rolled her eyes with a soft laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled as he clumsily ran along the diamond.
Morgan glanced at her, “Thanks for this.”
“Of course. I love seeing Spencer suffer,” She joked with a chuckle, watching her lanky boyfriend move. He was so cute, despite the fact he looked incredibly pissed off. She sighed, soft smile on her lips, “I know you guys are all probably iffy about me, but… I do love him. Genuinely, I do.”
Morgan’s lips curled up, “I know.”
Spencer finished his second lap, looking at Y/N and Morgan with an annoyed expression, “Okay,” he panted, “I did it. Now what?”
“Catching and throwing,” Y/N slipped on her glove, grabbing a ball, “Alright, we’ll start with the basics.”
“How hard can it be?” Spencer said, putting on his glove (which Y/N had broken in for him).
“Eh, best not talk, you might end up with two bruised cheeks,” Morgan chuckled, nudging him. He was not amused.
“Alright,” Y/N began, “When you throw the ball to someone, you have to aim for the other person’s chest. As a beginner, you can practice by using the hand you’re not throwing with, so the gloved hand, to aim. Like this,” Y/N faced Morgan, holding out her gloved hand and throwing with the other. Morgan caught the ball with ease. “See?” Morgan threw the ball back at her the same way, which she caught. “You try.” She tossed the ball to Reid, who was, like, two feet away.
He fumbled the ball, scrambling for it as it landed on the ground. Once it was in his hand, he stood up awkwardly. Spencer got into position, following Y/N’s instructions. He threw the ball to Morgan, it landed a few feet in front of him.
“You’re releasing it too late,” Y/N explained, “Try again”
Once the ball was in his hand again, he took a deep breath, throwing it again. It flew way past Morgan’s head this time.
“Okay, at least you got a strong throw,” Y/N said, trying to stay positive, “Now you released it a little too early. We’re getting somewhere. Try again.”
A few tries later, the trio went on to catching. It ended with Spencer thrown onto the grass once again in a starfish position, Y/N and Morgan both running to his side.
“Well, now your cheeks match,” she said, making Spencer groan.
They decided to end the fieldwork, getting Spencer to bat next. He had a helmet on and everything, determined to not actually get concussed.
“Alright, baby,” Y/N began, handing him the bat, “Knees shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees slightly. This elbow up,” she gently touched his arm, bringing up his elbow, “Keep your eye on the ball. The ball should be chest-height when thrown to you. If it’s a bad pitch, don’t swing.”
Morgan goes to pitch, Reid’s brows furrowed as he eyed the ball.
“Hold on,” Y/N stopped him, “I can see the gears turning in your head. No calculations, none of that smart boy stuff. Just put on a mean face, spit in front of you, and hit that home run.”
“Spit?” Spencer gasped, “That’s disgusting.”
“It works,” Y/N shrugged.
“I’m not doing that,” he deadpanned, making her giggle. He faced Morgan, a determined look on his face. “Let’s do this,”
“Hell yeah, baby,” Y/N grinned.
With a grin, Morgan pitched the ball to Spencer, who grunted, swinging the bat as hard as he can.
Losing his grip in the process, the bat flying through the air.
__________________
A week had passed, game day approaching fast. The BAU all sat together to cheer on Spencer and Morgan, Y/N awkwardly with them. Garcia was friendly enough, yapping away, which caused Y/N to yap away as well.
Until it was Spencer's turn to bat.
Y/N rushed to the fence, clapping, “You got this, baby!” He turned his head and gave her a look that resembled a deer caught in headlights. Prior to the game, she said she won't embarrass him. She had to promise it, because he knew how competitive she was.
Spencer gave her a thumbs up, going to the home plate and getting into position.
“Bend those knees, baby,” Y/N called. Members of the secret service glanced at each other smugly, making her scowl.
Spencer did as told, eyeing the ball nervously. The pitcher was a mean-looking guy with a vicious bulldog expression. He pitched the ball, and Spencer squeaked, swinging at nothingness as the ball flew past him.
“Nice try, baby, nice try!” Y/N said. He turned his head to glare at her, before looking back at the pitcher. “Oops,” she said, making Garcia giggle.
Spencer ended up striking out, incredibly embarrassed. He had a girlfriend coaching him at the stands and a team that was completely pissed at his inability to even catch the ball. He was humiliated.
Until he turned his head, seeing Y/N, camera in hand, taking pictures of him with a huge smile on her face. She grinned, doing a finger heart, and Spencer felt his spirits lift slightly, raising his hand and doing one back at her.
And then a ball went flying into his abdomen.
After that setback, the FBI was back to batting. Morgan landed on third, this guy Ron at second. The FBI was at two outs already, losing to the secret service by one point.
And it was Spencer's turn to bat.
He heard some other agents groan from the dugout, making him feel like absolute shit. As he trudged to the home plate, the secret service members were all chuckling to themselves, already knowing they won another year in a row.
Spencer felt awful.
Then he passed Y/N. She had a determined look on her face as she stood in front of the fence. “Baby, he's a shitty pitcher. Don't swing at every pitch.”
Spencer took a deep breath, nodding. “O-Okay.”
She cracked a smile, “You got this. Make them cry. I already don’t like them.”
He laughed, nodding and going to the home plate. Morgan nodded from third, and Spencer clenched his fists around the bat.
Putting on a mean face, he gathered the courage to spit, staring at the pitcher straight in the eye (who looked a tad bit grossed out). He planted his feet shoulder width apart, bent those damn knees, had that elbow raised.
The pitcher threw his first ball, and as instinct, Spencer swung, missing. He cursed under his breath.
“Chin up, baby, chin up!”
Spencer turned his head to Y/N, who was smiling wide. Then his team, all cheering for him in the stands. His family.
The pitcher threw again but Spencer got himself, not swinging the bat.
“Good job, baby, that pitch sucked!” Y/N said proudly. She paused, “I mean, it didn't suck…”
“We're going to get kicked out,” Rossi muttered to Hotch, who chuckled softly in agreement.
The ball went to Spencer again, and this time, with a low growl, he swung hard, bat connecting with the ball and sending it flying.
Everyone gasped, watching the ball descend into the air, until Y/N shouted, “RUN!”
Spencer snapped out of his trance, bolting towards first base while Derek sprinted towards home. Once at first, Y/N shouted for him to keep going, and so he did, rushing to second.
Longues burning, he dashed for home, throwing himself onto the plate.
And saving the game.
The FBI erupted into cheers, everyone rushing towards him and hauling him to his feet, slapping him on the back and shouting in joy. After a few hollers, Spencer was lifted off of his feet, laughing excitedly after their victory.
Once the crowd dispersed, Spencer immediately ran to Y/N who was waiting for him, a big grin on her face. She already had her arms open, which he dove into.
“You saw that, right?!” Spencer asked her, practically vibrating in eagerness.
“I did! I told you spitting works!”
He was pretty sure the spitting had nothing to do with it, but he didn't argue. “I can’t believe I made a home run!” He pulled away to greet his team, but Y/N stopped him.
“Jesus, baby, you’re lucky you didn't trip. How embarrassing that would have been,” She chuckled, gesturing to his untied sneakers. She kneeled down, tying them for him.
Prentiss, who was still sitting with the rest of the BAU, noticed the exchange from the corner of her eye.
Maybe Y/N wasn't too bad.
When Y/N finished tying his shoes, she stood up and kissed his rosy cheeks, red in embarrassment. She then patted his back and nodded, silently telling him to go to his team.
With a grin, Spencer rushed off to them, babbling about his hit.
_______
A few weeks had passed, and Y/N was with some friends at a softball field, getting ready for a game. Slipping on her glove, she turned her head, smiling at Spencer who was seated at the bleachers. He waved, and that's when she noticed Derek and Penelope were sitting next to him.
Y/N's eyes widened and she grinned, waving back at them.
Then, surprising her even more, Emily Prentiss took a seat with them.
It seemed that, little by little, Y/N was winning over the BAU.
hii
i absolutely love the spencer reid smooth criminal fic you wrote 💝
kinda sad no hotch mention 😩
could you please write more for spencer reid x kelopto!reader? like they need her to discreetly get something from an unsub for them and more shenanigans take place?
THANK YOUUU
( and sorry if this isn't coherent!!!)
hey bae here it is! Sorry it took so long, I had to flee from a hurricane... Didn't mention Hotch much in the first fic bc honestly i didnt think hed gaf like everyone else did lol. Anyway, here it is:
Special Consult - Spencer Reid
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: The BAU has a tricky case, though the clock is ticking, only a matter of time till the unsub strikes again. And so they bring in some help: Spencer's girlfriend, the one person who can break into a millionaire serial killer's home undetected.
Warnings: some swearing, very brief violence
A/N: can be read as standalone but is technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series.
____________
This unsub was slick.
An unsub in Virginia. Convenient enough for the BAU, only a few hours away.
This unsub had tortured and killed four girls, recording the events and sending tapes to the families of the victims.
According to the profile the BAU created, the unsub was way too sophisticated for these to be his first kills.
And it led the team to a man named Richard Smith. Thirty seven years old, with a wife and two kids.
The BAU knew he probably had more tapes, prior victims’ pain and suffering locked away somewhere. So the team came in with a warrant, turning his home upside down in search of not just tapes, but any piece of evidence that could be used against him.
They came up with nothing.
According to Garcia, that house was the only property under his name.
So were they wrong? Did they suspect the wrong guy? The BAU reevaluated the profile, coming out stumped.
It was him. It had to be him.
So how did they prove it? Did they have to catch him in the act of slaughtering another innocent woman to actually catch him?
“He should have the other trophies,” Morgan muttered, staring at the information on the whiteboard intently, “What are we missing?”
“Where else could he be hiding them?” Hotch asked, more to himself than the rest of the team, “There's no wooded area in a thirty-mile radius. A family member? Friend?”
“That doesn't fit the profile. He's incredibly secretive with his work, he would want it close to him, but hidden away,” said Reid.
“Garcia's on the line,” Prentiss gestured to the open laptop, Penelope’s face filling the screen. The team stopped conversing, bringing their attention to her.
“Hey, my loves, just got some juicy, juicy information on Mr. Richard Smith,” she began, “He had this home built in 2009, and I noticed something fishy with the blueprints. There was one room on the second floor labeled ‘mechanic room’.”
Rossi's brows furrowed in confusion, “We found no ‘mechanic room’? Where is it located?”
“The door is in the library!” She replied.
“In the library? There was no other door…” Realization hit Prentiss, “A panic room?”
“Possibly,” JJ agreed, “You think the evidence we need would be in there?”
“That could be where he's torturing the victims as well,” Hotch suggested.
Rossi wasn't convinced, “You think he could get those women in there without his wife and kids finding out? Even knowing their schedules, there's always the chance of them going off schedule at some point and accidentally catching him in the act.”
“It's worth a shot,” said Hotch, “Especially with his timeline. He should have his next victim now. He'll kill her tomorrow. Dump her the day after.”
“We don't have time for another warrant,” JJ pointed out in worry.
“Isabella Carson was reported missing two days ago,” added Garcia, “he's probably got her.”
“She doesn't have a lot of time left.” Said Rossi.
JJ crossed her arms over her chest, “What do we do then?”
“We have to save that girl,” Prentiss stated the obvious, “Warrant or not she needs us.”
“We can't just bust in there. Especially if we're wrong-” Derek paused, a grin forming on his face, “Who is someone who can get into that mega mansion undetected and get out just as undetected?”
“Someone who has done this before?” added Prentiss.
“And gotten away with it?” added JJ.
They all turned to Spencer, who looked at them in confusion. “What? I've never done that.”
“Not you, Reid,” Rossi deadpanned, “Y/N.”
Spencer's eyes widened, “Y/N? Absolutely not! She's never done a house robbery before!”
Y/N, Spencer's lovely girlfriend, was a diagnosed kleptomaniac, who can't resist her urges to steal. Most of the time, it was stupid things like a pencil or a pack of gum. She usually returned what she had stolen.
However, that was just most of the time.
She had admitted to robbing a bank once (well, multiple times, actually, but the team didn't need to know that). And other robberies like stores and gas stations.
She was a master with her hands, able to steal within seconds without a single person noticing.
“I'm not going to send her off to the home of the unsub.” Spencer said firmly, shaking his head.
“Reid, that girl is going to die unless we can find new evidence against him!” exclaimed Prentiss.
“As sad as that is, it's either her or my girlfriend,” Spencer said dryly, “And I don't know about you, but I'd like my girlfriend to live.”
“We will be right there. If she needs backup, we'll be there.” Rossi persuaded.
“Still, no. Besides, she has rehearsal tonight.” Reid said firmly.
His phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket to silence it.
Y/N.
“Gee, Reid, maybe you should answer.” Said Rossi.
“So you can harass her?” He scoffed.
“Reid's right, we can’t put Y/N in danger.” Said Hotch, “It’s unprofessional and dangerous.” Always the voice of reason.
“Then what do we do? We're going to have another body,” Derek pointed out.
“Another body?”
Spencer jumped and looked down at his phone, noticing he was holding it so tightly he had pressed the ‘accept’ button. “Oh… hi, Y/N.”
“Hey, baby. What's going on?”
__________
Oh, he was going to shit his pants.
Well, he wasn't, but he felt like he was going to, his girlfriend sitting surrounded by the BAU as she viewed the blueprints of Richard Smith's home.
“So I just have to go here?” Y/N asked, pointing at the room labeled ‘mechanic room’. “Easy enough,”
“It’s on the second floor,” Spencer reminded her, biting his bottom lip.
“Yeah. Should still be pretty easy.” she looked up at him, “Baby, sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“Because you’re going to infiltrate the house of the unsub!” he exclaimed. Was he the only one who thought this was crazy? That this was a terrible idea? “Hotch, would you let Hailey do something so dangerous?”
“Of course not,” Hotch answered honestly, “I think this is a bad idea too,”
“Come on,” Y/N scoffed at them, “I’m like a pro at this.”
“You’ve never broken into people’s homes before,” Spencer huffed.
“Actually, I have,” she noticed the looks the BAU members were exchanging, “A long time ago.”
“Kleptomaniacs steal from impulse. You broke into homes on impulse?” Rossi asked with a raised brow.
“Oh, no. That was for attention. Anyway…” Y/N looked down at the blueprints again, “Garcia, Imma need you to check to see if this guy has ever purchased an alarm system. Imma assume he has one, to keep all his rich people stuff safe.”
“I believe I saw a system when we searched the place,” JJ added helpfully.
“Ah, look at that,” Reid said, “Guess she can’t break in,”
“Of course I can. Don’t start doubting me now,”
Holy shit, can’t she take a hint? He didn’t want her to do this. He wanted her at her rehearsal, safe and far away from Richard Smith. Unfortunately for Spencer, her rehearsal was cancelled, which was why she had called him in the first place.
Y/N pulled him down to the seat next to her, an arm going around his waist as she began scribbling plans of execution all over the blueprints. "Relax," she said simply, which didn't help him relax at all.
“Don’t worry, pretty boy,” Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, “We’ll be right outside just in case. She’s not going to get hurt, even if she gets caught.”
“The only reason I’m allowing this,” Hotch pointed out, “...is because I believe she won’t get caught.”
“We value our jobs,” Rossi added.
“Think of it like this, baby: most of the times I got caught,” Y/N smirked, “It was because I wanted to be.”
______________________
The car ride towards Richard Smith’s home was silent.
Spencer was seated in the passenger seat, being the Passenger Princess he was, arms crossed, staring out the window with his bottom lip jutted out.
“Baby,” Y/N said.
“Humph,” was what she got out of him.
“Baby,” she repeated.
“What?” he finally faced her, arms still crossed over his chest.
“I’m going to be okay,”
“Why did you even agree to this?!” he finally exploded, his anger and worry finally coming out in one swift motion, “That man is a serial killer! He could kill you! And if I lose you…” he huffed again, turning to look out the window once again.
“You’re not going to lose me,” Y/N’s free hand went to his knee, the other on the wheel, “Besides, even if I did meet my unfortunate demise, I’ll make sure to haunt you.”
“This isn’t funny!” he whined, looking at her again with those big, sad puppy dog eyes that literally always got him what he wanted from her.
But not this time.
She chuckled softly, patting his knee, “Sorry, baby. Just trying to lighten up the mood.”
“It’s not working,”
“I’ll buy you a really nice present tomorrow,”
“You can’t do that if you’re a ghost,”
She hummed in response, “I’ll be a special ghost. You’ll know it’s me whenever you enter your apartment and somehow Girls’ Generation is playing,”
Finally, the corners of his lips curl up in a tiny smile, “Of course it’s Girls’ Generation. That’s how I know I’m really in a horror movie.”
“Whoa!” Y/N said dramatically, “Spencer Reid said a joke? A disrespectful one towards my queens, but a joke nonetheless!” she laughed, pinching his cheek. “I love you, baby. Never disrespect Girls’ Generation again, though,”
A giggle escaped him, “Yes, ma’am, I love you too” his smile faded when she parked the car, a few blocks away from Richard Smith. “Oh. We’re here,”
“Mhm, can you pass the equipment, please?”
With a sigh, Spencer reached towards the backseat and grabbed a headband with a camera attached. Y/N held out a hand to take it but Spencer ignored her, putting it on her himself. His brows were furrowed in concentration, bottom lip puffed out as he adjusted the camera on her head.
“Stop being cute, it makes me want to make out with you,” Y/N grumbled.
“Shut up, you’re going after the unsub, like you want me to have a heart attack. No kisses for you,”
“Okay, but like, if I do die and become a ghost, I won’t even need to haunt you, because the fact the last time I ever asked for a kiss, you denied me, and I die a few hours after will haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“Stop it!” he huffed, hitting her shoulder, “You’re making me nervous!”
“Does your team know you’re both demanding and abusive?” Y/N asked dramatically, rubbing her shoulder that didn’t even hurt.
“I'm neither,”
“You're demanding, a thousand percent. I guess you just save that for me.’
“No I don't!”
Y/N laughed, cupping his cheeks, “I love you. I'll be okay. This ain't my first rodeo.”
She leaned in for a kiss but he huffed at her. “No kisses for asshole girlfriends.”
“Shit, baby, you're evil.” she giggled, “I guess I should hurry up and get this over with so I can get some, eh?”
“Youre not getting shit.” it was a venomous thing to say, but he giggled again, leaning in and giving her a kiss. He was never much of a playful person, but with Y/N it was different. She was different. And he quite liked it.
“Ah, I'm such a bad influence, got you cursing all over the place,” she pinched his cheek lovingly before getting out of the car.
The couple gathered with the rest of the BAU, cramped in the back of a van where Garcia had computers set up, typing away.
“Alright,” she began, “We will be able to see everything you see,” she pressed a button, and the monitor changed, showing the side of Spencer's head, because that was exactly what Y/N was looking at. “There!”
“Remember your task. Look for tapes, or any other sort of evidence while you make your way up to the library. Once in there, access the panic room.” Hotch began, holding up a USB-like device, “Insert this into the lock, and Garcia will be able to find the pass code for you. Remember, the main goal of this mission is to get Isabella out of there.”
“I got you,” Y/N grinned, nodding, “Easy peasy,” she turned to Spencer, who looked ready to vomit. “I'll be okay! Promise. Have I ever broken a promise?”
Spencer looked up at her, plump bottom lip between his teeth, “No.”
She smiled, cupping his cheek, “I don't plan on starting now,” she kissed his cheek before pulling away, “Time to commit some crimes.”
________
Once the alarm system was disabled, Y/N found herself opening a window and entering the mega mansion’s dining room. The BAU stood huddled together at the monitor, watching her work.
“Shit,” she smirked, picking up the fancy centerpiece, “This is fancy,”
Spencer groaned, saying into the mic, “Y/N, focus.” She was wearing an earpiece to hear any direction from the team.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” she put the centerpiece down, “Find evidence. Got it.”
Fuck, he was biting at his nails, silently cursing out his team for coming up with this idea, cursing out Y/N for agreeing to this. He felt like vomiting.
Y/N began searching around the first floor: dining room, living room, other living room (?), kitchen, and then… the first bedroom.
“I’m going to throw up,” Reid muttered, head in his hands.
“The fun’s just started,” she said smugly, twisting the knob quietly. She entered the room, and Spencer realized he was holding his breath.
Richard Smith’s daughter, Emma, was fast asleep in her bed, luckily with a pair of headphones on, easing Spencer’s worries somewhat. Y/N began rummaging through her things, looking to see if her father might have left something in her room. For all they knew, the whole family could be in on it.
“Holy shit,” Y/N whispered.
“What?! What is it?!” Spencer exclaimed, feeling his hands begin to sweat.
“Do you see Richard?” asked Hotch, brows furrowed, his usual unamused expression on his face.
“Emma is a Sone!”
“...a what?” Rossi asked.
Spencer, feeling second-hand embarrassment over his girlfriend’s words, explained, “People who like Girls’ Generation,”
On the monitor, a musical album filled the screen, showing what Y/N was looking at. She held it, obviously observing it.
“Y/N,” Spencer said, lips uncomfortably close to the microphone, “Put that back. Please,”
“It’s an old album too,” she opened it up.
Rossi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is what we can expect sending a kleptomaniac into the home of a very wealthy family…”
“Y/N,” Spencer repeated, “Put down the album. I will literally buy you that exact same album. Please focus,”
Y/N gasped, making the whole team jump in worry. “She’s got Jessica!” she held a small cardboard album inclusion with a pretty woman on it to the camera on her forehead. “Jessica!”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. His girlfriend who was supposed to aid the BAU in catching a serial killer was busy ogling over her idol Jessica in said serial killer’s home. He couldn’t tell if he was horrified, embarrassed, or both.
“We might have made a mistake,” Prentiss muttered as the team watched Y/N begin to shove objects into her bag.
“This is stealing,” Spencer stated the obvious, trying to stay calm, “Put it back, Y/N,” he pronounced each word slowly, as if sternly speaking to a small child.
“Fine,” she huffed.
Spencer glanced at the team, “We’re going to have to pat her down when she gets out of there,”
“Must be nice having a girlfriend you can’t even trust,” Rossi stated sarcastically.
“Not now, Rossi,” Spencer groaned. He spoke into the mic again, “Y/N, I’m begging, please get on task.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” she grumbled quietly, leaving the room, “No fun,”
“A girl might die,” Rossi reminded her dryly.
“We’re going to get fired,” JJ added.
“It’s going to be fine,” Y/N huffed, going into another room. “Trust me,” she began to go up a grand staircase, “Imma be this rich, baby, trust,” she whispered, obviously to Spencer.
“Legally?” Rossi deadpanned.
“Let’s focus on the task,” sighed Hotch.
“Yeah, Rossi,” Y/n grumbled, “Let’s focus on the task,” she reached for a random decorative piece on the wall, her impulses taking over.
“Y/N,” Spencer said through gritted teeth, “Don’t,”
She paused, hands hovering over it, “Sorry, baby,”
He sighed in relief, realizing he’s getting somewhere with her. She was starting to actually listen to him and fight the urges.
“Good job, pretty boy,” Morgan said with a nod, “Keep her on task,”
Spencer nodded, biting his bottom lip, “I’m trying,” He knew this was going to be the most stressful case of his life.
It was a complete mess, a constant battle to keep her from stealing unnecessary junk throughout the abnormally large home. From diamond jewelery to magnets, this woman was struggling to not grab everything around her.
She finally made it to the library, and Spencer let out a soft sigh of relief. They were getting somewhere. However, so far, not a single piece of evidence was found. This was their last shot to prove their profile was correct.
Y/N closed the door behind her, scanning the area. She began going through the desk, humming to herself as she looked for anything of use. She then paused, eyes on a small container of paper clips.
“Focus,” Spencer already knew what she was thinking. “Y/N-”
She snatched up a handful and placed it in her bag.
“Y/N!” he groaned, “You do not need more paper clips.” That was the problem with kleptomania. She never needed the things she stole. It was a desire she couldn’t control (okay, sometimes it was for fun). There was absolutely no reason she needed a whole handful of paper clips. But her brain told her she did.
Y/N ignored him, grabbing another handful and looking around the room again, “The mechanic room should be… here.” she gestured in front of her, a large bookshelf, “Oh my God is there like a book that when you grab it, it’s actually a lever, and it reveals the secret door to the secret room?” she started grabbing at books on the shelves excitedly.
“We’re going to get fired,” JJ repeated.
Gripping another book, Y/N hooted in victory, the book not budging and making a clicking sound instead. She backed up, watching the shelf move, revealing a door. “Fuck yeah,” she took out the USB device and a screwdriver, getting to work on the passlock. Once it was open, she inserted the USB.
“My turn,” Garcia hummed, typing away on a monitor, “Okay, the code is 9-1-4-7-2.”
Y/N repeated Garcia’s words as she pressed the buttons, unlocking the door. “Moment of truth,” The large metal door began to open on its own, and Y/N entered the room, flashlight in hand. She began looking for a light switch, pausing when she saw a small bin. In curiosity, she went towards it.
“Look for evidence, not things to steal,” Spencer reminded her.
“No fun,” she opened the box, “Shit…” she held up an object to the camera, “...tapes.” She looked down at the tape again, reading it, “ ‘Fun with Hannah“
“Same handwriting as the unsub,” Morgan pointed out, “Same language use,”
To confirm, Y/N picked up another tape. Fun with Katherine.
“That’s what we need,” Hotch said, “These were before he decided to send them to families, so there’s a chance these aren’t edited and his face might be visible. Y/N, grab a few.”
“Jackpot,” she held up something else: a leatherbound journal with yellowing pages, “Journal,”
“Okay, you got evidence. Get out of there,” Spencer said quickly.
“We still need to find Isa-” Y/N’s eyes widened as she moved her flashlight, coming face-to-face with a girl bound to a chair, “Shit, fuck, shit, I’m like actually in the mega mansion of a serial killer,”
“I’m going to throw up,” Reid gasped, biting at his nails again.
“Untie her!” Hotch stated the obvious, trying to keep everyone from losing it, “Untie her and get out of there,”
“Right, right,” Y/N reached for the girl, when she suddenly went, “Oh, shit!”
Spencer’s eyes widened in terror as Y/N turned around, coming face-to-face with Richard Smith. Without a second thought, he shoved his gun into its holster and bolted out of the van, sprinting down the street.
“Go, go, go!” Hotch shouted, the rest of the team barreling after the boy genius.
Spencer was not a runner. He was a terrible athlete. Yet he ran like a track star, his heart beating practically out of his chest with each step on the concrete.
If anything happened to her, he wasn’t sure what he would do.
___________
“Hi there,” Y/N said casually, trying to calm her nerves in front of Richard Smith, the unsub, the killer of God knows how many young women, “Does your wife know about this little hobby of yours?”
From the profile given to her, Y/N knew he was narcissistic and full of himself. She had to keep him talking. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said simply.
“I know,” she replied, glancing at poor Isabella Carson, who looked terrified, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. “You know, you did a great job here. How did you manage to not get caught?”
Richard looked at her in confusion, a brow raised in suspicion, “Excuse me?”
“How’d you do it? How’d you get away with it?” she asked
The serial killer smirked, leaning against a wall in the secret room, “You broke in here to ask about my killing methods?”
Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip in an innocent way, “They’re admirable, actually. I’m sorry I didn’t go to you directly, I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”
A look of victory crossed the killer’s face, “No no, that’s fine. I just… didn’t think anyone was admiring my work.”
A very rich man who made his riches by exploiting others. He was a dominant force, and needed to feel it. And Y/N knew this.
“So how did you do it, Sir?” Y/N asked, “I want to learn from you,”
Richard’s smirk grew as she spoke, “Learn from me, huh? Alright… well, my family is here at the moment but… some other time, I can absolutely teach you my ways,” his eyes flickered towards her chest, then her eyes again.
“Well, I won’t bother you anymore,” Y/N said, inching towards the door, “I hope we can meet again-” Richard put his arm in the way of the door, and Y/N knew she was trapped. “Um, I’ll leave you be-”
“No,” a devlish look appeared on his face.
“Yes,” without a second thought, her hand flew out of her pocket, and she was tazing his balls.
He did not like that.
“Okay.” she began as he shouted and crumbled to the floor, “Now my super hot FBI boyfriend is going to come arrest your ugly ass in three… two… one-”
“Y/N?!”
“There he is,” she grinned, turning over her shoulder, “In here, baby!” she called after him.
Spencer came sprinting up to the library, “Y/N?! Y/N!” he threw his arms around her, “You’re okay,”
“Yeah,” she brought an arm around him, eyes on Richard Smith who was laid out on the floor, “I’m okay,”
_________
The rest of the BAU came in after, freeing Isabella Carson and arresting Richard Smith.
His family was not happy.
Once outside of the mansion, Spencer conduced a pat-down of his girlfriend, removing all of the stolen objects from her bag and body.
“Do you really have to steal everything you see?” he grumbled, finding some pens in her boot.
“I can’t help it, baby,”
“I know,” he sighed, standing up, “By the way,” he cupped her cheeks, “You’re not allowed to help on a case ever again,”
She laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips, “I don’t think crime solving is my thing anyway, darling,”
“Good, I was terrified,” he nuzzled into her neck, “This job is stressful enough, I don’t need to worry about you as well,” he paused, “I still have to worry about you anyway.”
“Am I really that much of a terror?”
“A bit,”
He then was called up by Hotch, so he gave her another kiss on the cheek before grabbing a box filled with the goodies she stole, walking off to him.
She waited till he was far enough away before, with a big smirk, she pulled out a card from under her sleeve.
The Jessica Jung photocard she found.
_________
A few weeks later, the BAU sat together, viewing a case.
“I don’t understand,” Rossi muttered in thought, “How can these two rob these banks so easily? No weapons, they kill their victims an hour after with their bare hands. How are they doing this?”
“If only we knew someone who has robbed a bank before,” said JJ.
“With no weapons either,” said Morgan.
“And didn’t get caught,” said Prentiss.
All eyes went to Spencer.
“I’ve never robbed a bank before-”
“Not you. Y/N,” Morgan deadpanned.
“Well, actually, she did get caught-”
“The first time,” Rossi corrected, “Garcia found some messaged between Y/N and a friend. She gave us printouts,”
Spencer sighed, rolling his eyes, “She’s always giving printouts,”
“So,” JJ grinned, “Is Y/N busy?”
And that's how Spencer found himself with an annoyed expression in the corner of the office, the rest of the team huddled around the case's special consult, Y/N.
______
Inbox is open!
if any of y’all happen to be spencer reid hmu i’m available always
Rules!
DNI - Please be over 18+!! I obviously cannot stop anyone from viewing my page and I know they will probably do it anyway but please be safe!! 🤍 Please be nice, don’t be homophobic, racist, etc.
Please don’t use slurs that you have not claimed! Its just wrong. Don’t be rude/mean to ANYONE.
About me!
Name: My name is Aurora!
AGE: 19! ( I’m so old 😔 ) I’m a Capricorn!
FROM: South America!
PRONOUNS: She/they, but it doesn’t matter to me!
SEXUALITY: Omnisexual !!
FAVORITE ARTIST: Lana del ray, Taylor swift, The weekend, Boygenius, TV girl, The neighborhood, Mitski, CAS, and Phoebe Bridgers.
FAVORITE TV SHOWS: Criminal Minds, End of the fucking world, shameless, and I am not okay with this. ( I dont watch TV often if that wasn’t obvious )
FAVORITE MOVIES: The hating game, The titanic, The edge of seventeen, 68 kill, and Suburban gothic.
Request guidelines!
!!!No spit, vomit, urine, incest, feet or anything like that!!
Please don’t expect me or writers to make your request immediately, we all have our own lives.
My bio will show if request are open or closed, most of the time they will be open. Please DO NOT request if it is closed.
My blog can be about anything!
What I write!
I’ll write any kink as long as it isn’t too dark. For example, rape non-con. Warning, if I don’t know the kink ill do my best to look it up and go based off of that!
I write for mostly Spencer Reid but I also will write for all of the C.M cast and for all of the NCIS members!
I can write for all genders but just know I usually write for afab (assigned female at birth) because I am female and can describe it better.
can you write fem!reader giving sub!spencer a hj in an empty office during work but he’s so sensitively loud and whiny🫣
Yes of course!!
Needy and whiney.
Fem!reader x sub!spencer
18+ Smut, ( oral m receiving for like 3 seconds ), hand job, slight dacryphilia?, and work sex(ish).
I listened to this while making this so this will most likely fit!!
“Spence,” I coo as I place a soft opened mouth kiss to his throbbing cock and stood up fully. Spencer had—borderline—dragged me into a vacant office far, far away from the bullpen. I figured out why when he started to whimper into my ear and basically rut himself against me like a bitch in heat when we entered the vacant office.
He shivers from the kiss I planted, watching my spit slowly trail down the length of his cock and he twitches in my hand.
I begin to stroke him, smearing all the pre-cum and saliva and he’s already a whimpering and moaning mess.
“Fuck,” He curses as he leans his head back and bucks his hips to desperately seek more pleasure. He rarely curses but when he does its.. arousing.
I stroke him faster, he whimpers and can’t help but moan; the nosies coming out of his pretty mouth echoing in the vacant office.
“Baby, we don’t want anyone to hear those pretty noises, hm? Those noises are for me only, sweet boy.” I whisper as I place a heated open mouthed kiss to the pulse point on his neck, causing him to shiver and moan louder.
“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry, ‘feels to-.. ah, feels so, mhg, so good!” He rasped out, tears filling his pretty brown eyes as the pleasure becomes to much to bear. His fingers were digging into his palms as they—basically—frail in the air; his hips bucking and rolling violently as he becomes closer and closer to pure bliss.
“My sweet boy, always so pathetic for me, hm?”
He nods frantically, tears slowly starting to flow down his heated cheeks as his moans and whimpers get louder and more high pitched, “‘M.. so close, oh god, please!”
I stroke him faster, whispering in his ear as my free hand comes down to fondle his full balls, “Come on baby, cum for me, be a good boy.” I run my thumb over his leaking tip.
He doesn’t have to be told twice, gasping and sobbing as his entire body trembles, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his lips are parted in a silent scream as pure bliss floods through his body and out of his cock, his seed slipping all over my hand. I stroke him through his orgasm until he whimpers in overstimulation.
“You did so good sweet boy, you just need to work on those pretty noises.”
Sunset embrace
Spencer Reid x Reader || Fluff
summery; Reader, spends a romantic picnic in the afternoon with Spencer, at a picturesque park. They revel in each other's company, and savoring the moment and sharing cheesy banter under the setting sun.
This is my first fanfic I have written in a long time and my first one on tumblr, it's cheesy i know but i intended it to be cheesy! Please enjoy and feedback is gladly accepted <3
══════❀══════
"But why write a book when I already have my own real-life romance right here?"
A soft breeze blew past, causing the nearby park trees to rustle their branches. The sounds of children playing on the playground nearby, and the smell of pine, made this the perfect setting for a picnic. Spencer Reid, the brilliant young man that he was, glanced over at you with a small smile.
He was currently laying out the blanket that he brought from the car, all while keeping his gaze fixated on you. He thought about how beautiful you looked in the sunlight, how your eye color sparkled.
"Come sit down,"
he called out, patting the spot beside him. You, of course, complied with a smile and a graceful stride, sitting next to him. You watched as he opened the picnic basket. Inside were several food items, from sandwiches, to fruit, to your particular favorite snacks.
Spencer looked at you with a smirk, holding a small plate of your favorites. "I made sure to remember to bring these for you," he said to you, gently placing them before you.
"How thoughtful of you," you replied playfully, taking one of the items from the plate and taking a bite. You hummed in contentment, enjoying the snack. You noticed Spencer staring at you with a fond smile, his deep brown eyes full of adoration.
He reached out and gently pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"You know, I've been thinking," he began, shifting so he was facing you.
"I just... I was thinking about how much I love being here with you. Like this." He gestured to the park around you, the other people enjoying their day, the sounds of nature and laughter. "It's been so chaotic recently with work, and... It's nice, you know? Being here with you, with no distractions, no... No stress."
You smiled at his words, feeling your heart melt a little. You knew how hard he worked. The endless cases and the weight of the Bureau on his shoulders. It was nice to see him relax for once.
"I know what you mean," you replied, reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "It's nice to have a moment just to breathe."
Spencer hummed in agreement, letting his gaze settle on your smile. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, just taking in each others' presence. Eventually, he spoke up again.
"You know, you really do look beautiful in this light, you know that?" he said, lifting his hand to brush a thumb against your cheek.
You blushed under his touch, feeling your heart skip a beat. He always knew just the right things to say.
"You're one to talk," you retorted with a smile, "You look pretty handsome yourself right now. It's that park lighting."
Spencer's lips quirked up in a lopsided smile, and he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, so it's the lighting that makes me attractive, is that it?" He teased, "How shallow.."
You rolled your eyes playfully and poked his nose with your finger. "Stop being silly," you quipped, "It's not just the lighting, but it does make you look especially handsome. Though, you know, you're always handsome, lighting or no lighting."
Spencer's smile widened at your words. He loved the way you complimented him, it always made him feel special. He was used to praise for his genius, but your compliments were different, they were genuine and heartfelt.
He reached out and playfully pinched your cheek. "You're too sweet," he said, "How did I get so lucky to find such a sweet person?"
You smiled, feeling your heart swell at his words. "I could say the same about you," you replied, lacing your fingers with his.
The air was filled with a comfortable silence once again, the two of you sitting together, enjoying the moment.
The sound of laughter and the breeze blowing through the trees was the only noise that surrounded you, and it was perfect.
You laid your head on top of Spencer's chest, sighing contentedly. He instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment.
The two of you laid on the blanket like that for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. Every once in a while, he would reach out and brush a strand of hair out of your face, or gently stroke your arm.
After a while, the sky began to turn pink as the sun started to dip below the horizon. Spencer looked up, admiring the view. "The sunset's beautiful," he said quietly.
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head up to see the bright pinks and oranges in the sky. "It is," you said, "It's like those scenes in those cheesy romcoms."
Spencer chuckled at your comment. "Cheesy, huh?" he teased, looking down at you. "You think our relationship is something out of a cheesy romance movie?"
You laughed and playfully swatted at his chest. "Maybe," you said, "I mean, look at us. A picnic in the park, watching the sunset together. It's the perfect cliche romantic moment."
Spencer chuckled and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, maybe you're right," he admitted, "But if this is a cheesy romance movie, that means I get to say those cheesy lines."
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Oh, really? Go ahead then, Spencer Reid, say a cheesy line."
Spencer smirked, seeming to revel in finally having permission to be cheesy. He leaned a little closer to you and spoke in a mock-dramatic tone. "Ah, my fair lover," he began, his voice dripping with exaggerated charm, "You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes upon. Your every move is like a symphony, and your laughter is more melodic than any song I've ever heard."
A grin smears across your face and laughter spills out, unable to contain yourself at his over-the-top performance. "Oh, please," you managed to say through your laughter, "Spare me the theatrics, Shakespeare."
Spencer grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "But my dear," he continued, pretending to swoon, "Can you blame me for being swooned? Your beauty is otherworldly, your wit knows no bounds, and your presence alone is more intoxicating than the finest wine."
You rolled your eyes again, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. "Spoken like a true Casanova," you joked, "You should be a romance novel novelist with the way you talk."
Spencer chuckled and leaned back onto his hands. "Maybe I should," he said jokingly, "But why write a book when I already have my own real-life romance right here?"
You smiled at his words, feeling your heart flutter. "Sap," you teased, poking his chest.
Spencer chuckled and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "Only for you," he said, his free hand going up to your jaw, his lips kissing against yours lightly, "You bring out the sappy side in me, you know that?"
Your cheeks flushed at his words and the soft touch of his lips against yours. "I can definitely tell," you replied, leaning into his touch.
The sun had nearly set now, casting a warm, orange glow over the whole park. The sounds of crickets and distant traffic filled the air, creating a soothing white noise backdrop.
══════❀══════
I do hope you enjoyed this! Like I said at the top of the fanfic, feedback and advice is appreciated and accepted!
I need him between my thighs. Eating me so good. Legs shaking. Overstimulated. He doesn’t stop. He’s relentless. Hungry. It’s almost cannibalistic the way he consumes me. Drinking every last drop. Kissing his way up my hips just to go back down again.
Criminal profiler, Federal agent
Born in 1981
Spencer
Spencer Reid
.
.
.
.
Criminal profiler, Federal agent
Born in 1981
Spencer
Spencer Reid
Come on, Spencer, you can do it
Pave the way, put your back into it
Tell us why, show us how
Look at where you came from,
look at you now
Cat Adams
and Tobias Hankel
and Diane Turner
Amateurs, can fucking suck it
Fuck their wives, drink their blood
Come on, Spencer, get 'em!
