#spencerreidsmut

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH REID

I hope you like it! 🤍☝😌

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

Spencer couldn't remember ever being so overstimulated in his entire life.

Of course, he'd agreed to it, so he was willing to let go for once and see where it led.

Just as Reid couldn't remember (for the first time) experiencing such a level of stimulation, you couldn't remember ever feeling so alive.

You cupped Spencer's face in your hands, which would have been touching yours too if it weren't for the handcuffs around his wrists, immobilizing him against the headboard.

You both knew that if Hotch found out you were using work equipment for extracurricular activities like this, he'd give you a serious telling-off, but since that wasn't going to happen, you were both perfectly calm about it.

"Sorry, honey, now it's my turn" you whispered, hearing the metal clinking against the wooden headboard. "I'm going to treat you very well, because that's what it's all about, right?" "That's why you agreed to this, because you want me to take care of you, isn't that right?" you questioned, your fingers toying with the button of his suit trousers.

You watched as his brown eyes rested on you, his breath catching in his throat at your actions.

"That's right," he replied, letting out a soft sigh as you leaned down to place a kiss on his navel. "Y/N, please, don't torture me anymore," he gasped as you traced a trail of kisses from his navel to his lips, stealing his breath. "Please," he repeated against your lips, "I need you," he said, making you squeeze your thighs together.

"I know, Doctor, and I'm going to give it to you," you said. "You've been such a good boy to me, Spence, that you deserve a reward," you murmured. "I'm going to let go of one of your hands, but only one, okay?"

"Okay," he whispered, as you bent down to unlock the shackle on his right hand.

At that moment, he quickly stood up and positioned you beneath him where he had been standing.

He placed both knees beside yours, so you couldn't move, and without a word, unlocked the second shackle, freeing both his hands.

He held the handcuffs with his index finger and showed them to you with a playful smile playing on his lips.

You had expected many things that year, but seeing Spencer holding handcuffs and looking at you like THAT, as if he were an upgraded version of Christian Grey, was definitely NOT on your list.

"Sorry, my love, now it's my turn" he said, mimicking your earlier line, as he leaned in to kiss you.

"How did you do that?" “You weren’t supposed to be able to let go so easily,” you said between kisses. You rolled your eyes, a lopsided smile playing on your lips. “Spence, have you watched the Houdini documentary again?”

“Of course I have, you can never watch it enough times,” he replied with a grin. “Thanks to it, I’ve managed to perfect my magic tricks to the point where they’re almost perfect,” he explained. “Only there’s one I haven’t quite mastered.”

“Oh, really?” you questioned. “And… what is it?” you asked curiously, mainly because you doubted anything could resist him.

“It’s the clothes-making trick,” he said, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. “The times I’ve tried it, it hasn’t worked, but I hope I can do it today.”

“Spencer!” you squealed, laughing as you realized he’d just made a double entendre, and it had worked. “Where did you get that idea? Or have you been spending a lot of time with Morgan?”

"I got it from here" he said, pointing to his temple. "As for Morgan, I'm probably spending a lot of time with him, yes," he replied. "We met through him, remember?"

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・★

“Spence-“ I gasped as he pried my legs apart. I pushed my coworker's shoulder lightly and blushed a bright red.

The only thing I could think of was that I had worked all day, and it was really hot outside.

“Hey- are you- sure?” My breath hitched as I felt his tongue start over my already soaked panties. My thighs twitched, and I was still processing. He took me into a room on a floor we didn’t work on, and we were talking and now… oh my god.

“Oh my- mmph.” His hand reached up and clamped over my mouth. Chills rushed down my spine straight to my core.

He was gently easing me backwards onto the desk, and I moved my legs up instinctively.

His tongue found my folds through my underwear, and he tugged on the little pair of panties until they were almost inside of me. Biting into my skin just enough to feel good.

I let out a moan against his hand.

“You just, you smelled so good. I’m sorry.” He whispered against my cunt.

He was lapping at me now, underwear still disappearing inside of me. I let out a rough moan, arching beneath him.

“Spencer, please!” I yelped, arching beneath him. He shushed me.

“Shhh- I know, baby girl. Relax.” He murmured. I did as he said, and he yanked down my panties, stuffing them into his pocket.

“You don’t need those anymore.” He murmured. His tongue lapped eagerly at me now, and my thighs quivered.

“I’m so close.” The words came out broken, almost pained.

“I just started.” He breathed out, looking over me hungrily.

His tongue was on me again, fully now,  licking easily between my folds and finding my clit. 

My mouth fell open, and my head fell back, but no words came out. My legs locked around his head, and I just trembled. It was all I could do.

“That dress is gorgeous.” He rasped into me. He was pulling gently at my plush thighs, kneading into them with his thumbs.

I groaned, arching my back against the cool tabletop. “I know, I know, just a minute more.” His tongue swirled around my clit, and I arched hard. I reached down and tugged his curls between my fingers. I gasped.

“Spence-” “I know, baby, I know. Just come.”

warnings: smut ofc!, loss of virginity, whiny and sub Spence.

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

A/N: This is very short! This was a forgotten piece of work I had and I thought I might as well just finish it. Also! first post of February!! <3.

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Written: December 21st-February 5th, 2025

Published: February 5th, 2025

Summary: Spencer's never had the touch of a woman before.

wc: 849

‘Good morning, my love,’ Spencer whispered softly in my ear, the blinding light of the morning sun filtering through the curtains, stinging my eyelids.

‘Oh, fuck me,’ I muttered, burying my face in the covers, desperate to shield myself from the early light. I heard a small chuckle, followed by the comforting weight of his body melting into mine as he cradled me tighter. His warmth was soothing, pulling me back toward sleep.

Spencer wasn’t one to use profanity, but when it slipped from my lips, he found it... endearing. Arousing even, reminding him of the sound of your voice when he had you squirming beneath him. 

Being the smart-ass that he is, I could practically hear the smile in his voice as he replied, ‘I’m not opposed to that idea.’

The sensation of his body against mine sparked a heat in my belly, my tired limbs slowly burning for more of him. The scent of him, the weight of his embrace growing heavier on my torso, ignited something deep inside me. I slowly turned in his arms, letting my lips trail down his jaw. A small smirk tugged at my lips as I returned his embrace, feeling his semi-hard cock press against my thighs.

‘I can feel that, Spence... Is someone having a hard time?’ I giggled at my own terrible pun, but Spencer just smiled down at me, his eyes sparkling with a hint of feigned annoyance. ‘You’re terrible,’ he muttered, but there was a warmth in his tone, one that made it clear he didn’t mind in the slightest. 

He lowered his head until our foreheads were touching, eyes locked in a deep, unspoken connection. Spencer studied me with a quiet intensity, noting the way my pupils dilated, the smile that tugged at my lips, and the flush spreading across my chest. His gaze was knowing, almost possessive, as if he was already reading the unspoken signs of what I needed. Without a word, he shifted slightly, pressing his body closer to mine, and I could feel the evidence of his desire against my thigh. The tension between us was palpable, and I could tell he was in control, yet it was a control that was gentle, almost tender, as though he was waiting for me to signal when I was ready.

His eyes never left mine, and the intensity in them deepened as the air between us grew thicker with unspoken desire. The way his gaze lingered on my lips, the heat in his touch, and the way his breath hitched in anticipation... it all made my heart race. For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension was almost too much to bear, the unspoken need between us growing with each passing second.

Then, without warning, Spencer’s hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw with a tenderness that only made the desire between us burn brighter. His forehead stayed pressed against mine, the connection palpable. His eyes flickered down to my lips again, and I felt the shift, the moment he could no longer hold back. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was fierce, hungry, and full of urgency. There was no hesitation now; only the raw need to feel, to taste, to claim each other in a way that words couldn’t possibly  describe. His kiss was deep and demanding, but it still held the gentleness of someone who cared, who wanted, no needed this connection more than anything.

Summary: Spencer and the reader have been pretending to be rivals for quite some time, jokingly taking shots at each other and trying to win games against each other to prove higher intelligence. One day, Spencer suggests they play something else and little do they know that game turns into a whole lot more play.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warning/Includes: playful hatred, friendly-fire rivalry, kissing, protected sex (hardly written), tension to smut to fluff.

A/N: lightly based on The Name of The Game, by ABBA

“You know what I think, Dr.Reid, is that secretly, deep, deep down in the skinny soul that fills your skinny body... you like me.” You teased, setting down your cards. That was it, the game was over, you had won.

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH REID

I hope you like it! 😊☝🤍

(This fic is based on a post rebloged by @cosmicreidd 😌)

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

Spencer and you had been dating for two months, twenty-six days, and 395 hours, according to the genius's precise calculations, and neither of you had ever been as comfortable in a relationship with another person as you were with each other.

You and Reid had the kind of relationship where you could understand each other with a single look, an action, or a simple nod.

That's why, as you watched him read with his characteristic speed from your spot on the sofa, you knew something was wrong.

I mean, he was reading as he always did, his posture indicated he was focused, but the slight movement of his eyes leaving the page to glance at you out of the corner of his eye indicated that something was bothering him, something he wasn't telling you.

"Spence," you called, making him look up at you. His brown eyes studied you gently. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, perfectly fine, I…" He offered a shy smile before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Everything's fine."

"Okay," you nodded. "You know you can tell me whatever it is, right?" He nodded before returning to his reading.

You spent a few more minutes in silence until his voice broke it again.

He closed the book and set it aside before looking at you again, a gesture that told you that whatever he was about to say, it was important that you listen closely.

"The other day I was… reading the book Morgan gave me for my birthday," he began, nervously wetting his lips, "and… well, let's just say he lied to me about the plot."

"What was the book about, Spence?" “—you whispered gently, his gaze fixed firmly on yours—

“Well, it was set in a fictional world with dragons, monsters, and all sorts of creatures,” he said. “Everything was going well until the two main characters had to get married to end the war between their territories, and…” He cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a light red. “Let’s just say they spend their wedding night in a… intense and passionate way,” he blurted out. “The author describes it all quite explicitly, and… I felt…”

“How?” you whispered, slowly moving closer to him until your knees were touching. “What did you feel?”

“I felt tension, longing, and desire,” he blurted out, looking directly into your eyes. “Y/N, I… the reason I’m telling you this might seem a bit daring or strange, so if you don’t want to hear it, we can…”

“No,” you interrupted gently. “I want to hear it, whatever it is.”

“Okay,” he took a deep breath for a moment before continuing. “In the book, the protagonist…” He swallowed hard. “You could say she overstimulates him and…”

“She dominates him” you finished the sentence for him, and he nodded slowly. “And you want me to do the same to you?” you asked, and when he nodded again, you thought you would faint from the happiness you felt. “You want me to take you to the edge of the precipice and be the one to say when you can release? Is that what you want?”

"I-it didn't mention anything about a cliff in the book, but…" He stopped when he saw the smile on your lips. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. "Oh, it was just a figure of speech, right?"

"Yes," you nodded, and he chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving yours. You looked at each other for a few seconds, until you took control of the situation and sat on his lap.

You could feel the muscles of his legs against the inside of your thighs.

You looked up; his brown eyes shone brightly as he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Before we start, let's establish some ground rules," you murmured. "If you don't like something, or if I'm making you uncomfortable, or if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. I'll stop and we'll pretend nothing happened, okay?"

"Okay," he said, raising his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, "although once you start, I don't think I'll ask you to stop, I'll beg you not to" he blurted out, making your breath catch in your throat for a few long seconds.

"Spence, you can't say that… with that face," you complained.

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, before giving a small smile, fully aware of how much that gesture affected you.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "What face are you…?"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his.

You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sucking in every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

You tugged at his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a sigh from the back of his throat, which made your self-control waver for a few moments.

You pulled away to look at him for a moment.

His brown eyes now shone brighter than before, and his lips were swollen and red from the kisses you had shared.

His hair was tousled from how many times you had run your fingers through it while kissing him. Your breathing was also ragged.

His chest rose and fell steadily, as if he were struggling to catch the breath he'd just lost.

"Oh, Spence," you murmured, "you're practically trembling and we've only kissed," you whispered. "It's going to be a VERY long night," you added, bringing your lips together again.

As the night wore on (and with each piece of clothing that fell to the floor), you discovered more about him, things you hadn't known before and that you loved, like how much he loved it when you kissed his neck.

You didn't know what it was, but there was something about the act of placing your lips where his pulse beat that seemed to drive him wild.

You also discovered that he had a hard time keeping his hands still and away from you.

Whenever he had the chance, he would hold you by the waist to pull you closer, or cup your face in his hands as he kissed you, or simply gently intertwine his hands with yours, as if he wanted to make sure you were real, and that this was really happening.

You felt him tense up when you slid your hand down his torso to his lower abdomen.

You observed the expressions on his face: his eyes wide, his lips parted as he inhaled in trembling breaths, and his hands clenched into fists on either side of the mattress.

"Spencer, look at me," you whispered. He did. "We don't have to go on, you know that, right?" “We can…” you murmured.

“No, I want to continue, please, I…” He swallowed hard. “I need you to touch me, I want you to touch me, please,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with excitement.

“Okay,” you nodded. “I’m going to touch you, Spence, but I want you to look at me when I do,” you whispered. “I want to see the expression in your eyes when I have you completely at my mercy.”

“Okay,” he managed to say, his eyes locked on yours. “Y/N, please, don’t torture me anymore, s-so…”

The end of his plea turned into a ragged gasp when he felt you around him.

You didn’t miss a single detail of the expressions that crossed his face. He let out a nervous laugh, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You… you’re…” He stopped, and for the first time, he did something you never expected him to do: he swore. “…shit. Are you sure you don’t want to kill me?”

“100% sure,” you affirmed, a lopsided smile playing on your lips before you began to move.

He let out a muffled moan, throwing his head back. Involuntarily, his hips began to move against your fist, making your smile widen.

“Look at you, fucking my hand like it’s the only one in the world,” you whispered. “I didn’t expect this from the proper, seemingly shy Dr. Reid,” you teased, making him gasp audibly.

“None of my PHD's prepared me for this” he complained, as you choked back the laughter rising in your throat. “Y/N, I… I think I’m going to…”

“Don’t, Spence, not yet,” you whispered. “Remember what we said earlier?” you asked. “What a silly question, of course you remember,” you murmured. “What did I tell you?”

"You asked me… if I wanted you to be the one to tell me when I could…" he gasped, "…unload."

"That's right," you confirmed. "And what did you answer?"

"That yes, I wanted you to be" he sighed, arching his back to lie face up on the sofa.

"That's right," you affirmed. "You're very good at following the rules, so you're going to be a good boy, and you're going to keep your word, right?"

"Y-yes," he nodded. "I… I'll be a good boy for you, love" he replied. "Oh shit, I can't… I can't hold on much longer, I…"

"Just a little longer, my love, you're doing so well," you whispered. "I'm SO proud of you," you murmured, your gaze never leaving his. "I can feel you getting closer to the edge of the cliff, but to let yourself fall, you just have to say the magic words, the ones we've talked about so many times. Now's the time to…"

"I love you," he interrupted, making your eyes widen, since in all the time you'd been together, this was the first time he'd said it.

"Say it again," you asked gently. He gave a lopsided smile, cupping your face in his hands.

"I love you," he said, placing a tender kiss on your lips as he fell over the cliff.

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH REID

I hope you like it! 🤍😌☝

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

Spencer knew that Cicero once said the eyes were the window to the soul.

And that night he saw it for himself when they shone like a pair of Christmas lights as he slid his index and middle fingers inside you.

You stifled a moan, noticing how he moved with a mastery you hadn't known existed, grazing your clitoris as if it weren't the first time.

You could feel the cold of his watch strap against the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp each time it touched you.

You had spent most of the morning staring at his hands, making no attempt to hide it.

Reid was a very observant and attentive person, which is why he knew about your little obsession (if you can call it that) with his hands, especially his fingers.

Spencer knew perfectly well that you had trouble concentrating when you were working on a case and had to read a file, because even though he could read 200,000 words per minute, he found it easier to keep his index finger resting on each line he read, so as not to lose his place.

Your ADHD certainly didn't help you concentrate as well as you'd like, but the slow, deliberate movement of his fingers across the pages of the file wasn't exactly helping your ultimate goal either, which was to manage to read at least a couple more lines beyond the ones you'd already read.

Spencer looked up when he felt your gaze, catching you red-handed. You held his gaze for a moment, before swallowing hard and looking back at the file.

"Y/N," he whispered gently, "What's wrong? Have you discovered anything?"

"No… not yet. I'm…" you cleared your throat, "trying to find a connection between the unsub and the victims' friends," you murmured, "but I haven't found anything yet."

"Okay," he nodded, before continuing to read.

From that moment on, Spencer began to notice certain behaviors in you that he hadn't seen before.

Like the way you looked at his hands whenever he started explaining something related to the case, or how, completely involuntarily, your fingers would brush against his from time to time.

With that in mind, the genius began to develop a profile of you in his mind.

The team had once said they wouldn't analyze each other unless absolutely necessary, but Spencer felt THAT was a situation of EXTREME necessity.

So he began evaluating your various behaviors toward him, as well as how you acted around him.

He learned that the gestures you made toward him might seem small to others, but to him they were significant and full of meaning, like that time the office coffee machine broke and you gave him your coffee instead of drinking it.

They were small gestures, simple gestures, that after several weeks of analysis, Spencer understood were your way of showing people you cared.

He called it "intangible love" because you couldn't see it or touch it, but somehow you knew it was there.

He felt it, hovering around you with every little action you took throughout the days.

After all that investigation, the day came when Reid noticed a sudden change in you. It was subtle, yet significant.

Spencer realized then that whenever he moved, the first thing your attention was drawn to wasn't his face or mouth, but his hands.

It was true that he was prone to gesturing with them constantly, as it was the best way he found to express himself, but until that moment he hadn't noticed how much you seemed to be observing his every move.

For weeks, you had exchanged fleeting glances and meaningful gestures between meetings, during cases, or on one occasion in the BAU hallways, leading him to believe that your relationship had evolved into something more than just colleagues and friends.

He wanted to talk to you about it, but he didn't know how.

He had no idea where to begin, or what he was supposed to say, so he took the advice Morgan had once given him.

He would be himself, and everything would be fine.

So, with that thought in mind, he looked up from the computer in front of him, tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and approached your desk.

You looked up at him and greeted him with your usual smile.

"Spence, hi," you murmured. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine, Y/N," he whispered, pressing his lips shyly together. "Can we…" he cleared his throat nervously, "…talk?" he finished. You nodded slowly.

"Sure," you replied, frowning. "I'm right behind you."

Spencer knew there was a room in the back of the BAU that was never used, so he decided on the spot that it was the perfect place to talk.

He opened the door for you to go in first and closed it behind him.

You observed the grayish walls for a moment, before resting your gaze on him.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're scaring me."

"I promise I didn't mean to. I just… I need to talk to you."

"Okay, talk then," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know how I should tell you this, so I'll just say it." He took a deep breath for a moment before speaking. "I haven't been able to help noticing that these last few weeks you've been looking at me with genuine interest," he whispered. "And I can't help wondering why," he continued. "So I… maybe I've been analyzing you," he blurted out. "I mean, not analyzing, I meant… studying you, although now that I'm saying it out loud, I don't know if it sounds better or worse." The truth is, it sounded better in my head…

“I understand,” you whispered. “You want to know why my attention is focused on you every few minutes, don’t you?”

“That’s right,” he agreed, looking at you intently with his chocolate-brown eyes. “I’ve calculated all the variables, applied theorems, and created equations to solve this mystery, but none of it seems to work, since none of it gives me a favorable result that would explain why…”

“Spence,” you gently stopped him, “I’m flattered that you’ve investigated so much, but hasn’t it occurred to you that what’s happening is simpler than all that you just explained to me?”

“Maybe, but the data has never let me down, just like numbers never lie,” he replied. “I don’t know…”

“I’m in love with you,” you blurted out, making him stop abruptly. He focused his gaze on your eyes and saw a strange gleam in them, one he’d never seen before.

“No, you need me in a more intimate way. More…deep,” he whispered, his voice dropping two octaves as he said it.

“I need you because I’m in love with you,” you repeated. “One thing doesn’t exclude the other.”

“I see you know the theory very well,” he murmured, taking a couple of slow steps toward you until you were only inches apart. “But how are you at putting it into practice?”

"I can't tell you if we don't do it," you smiled, playing along. "To refute a theory, you first have to identify its weaknesses," you murmured, "and I don't have any…"

"Yes, you do," he interrupted gently. "We all have weaknesses, it's just that some people know how to hide them better than others," he said, his eyes meeting yours firmly. "I'm your weakness, and you…" He swallowed hard. "…you're mine."

You held each other's gaze for a few moments that seemed like an eternity, until, without knowing exactly who had moved first, you went from talking to kissing as if your lives depended on it.

Spencer's lips were demanding on yours, as if he had been wanting to do this for a long time.

You weren't far behind either.

You tangled your fingers in the strands of his curly hair, feeling him press you harder and harder against the wall behind you.

After that, everything happened very quickly.

Spencer refuted the theory that you were obsessed with his fingers the very instant he saw you lose your mind as he moved them inside you, grazing, pinching, and stimulating your clitoris in ways that clearly no one ever had.

At some point during that interaction, you pushed your hips against his hand, seeking the release you needed, while he was forced to cover your mouth with his hand so the entire agency wouldn't find out what was happening.

Within minutes, thanks to his eidetic memory, Spencer had perfectly learned how your body worked.

He knew the exact spots to touch, and when to touch them, but above all, he knew when you needed to stop and take a short break before moving against him again.