cici-writes

[cici-writes]

Jamais

title: Never

Summary: Reader has never had an orgasm. Spencer plans on changing that

Category: Smut

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: talk of orgasms, fear of a breakup, crying, kissing, oral (fem!receiving), penetrative sex

"Never?!"

My genius boyfriend stares at me in shock and I can't help but get nervous. I didn’t want it to be a big deal but we had been dating for a couple months so it only felt right to tell him. But maybe I shouldn’t have.

"Well my other boyfriends were never....great and I didn't know if it was like rude to say something so I just....didn't?"

"So let me get this straight: you've never had an orgasm?" His tone has shifted to a mixture of concern and pity which makes me frown in self consciousness.

"I-I guess not?" I twist the rings around my fingers and refuse to look at him. Spencer gently places two fingers below my chin, tilting my face to look up at him.

"Hey...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. Statistically it actually makes sense! Up to 15% of women have never had an orgasm and 20 to 30 percent of women don't orgasm through intercourse. It's not a big deal." He smiles softly and I return it.

"It's okay Spence, it is kind of surprising. But I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“That’s not something you ever had to tell me. But I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me that.” He gently kisses me and I smile.

“I should probably go home and get ready for dinner. Wouldn’t want to make us late for our reservations right?” I start to get up off his couch but he stops me.

“Actually...I have some files and stuff that I should probably get done. You think we could take a rain check?” I feel my stomach starting to twist into knots of anxiety. Was he cancelling because he wants to break up with me?

“Y-yeah! That’s fine!!” I smile, lying through my teeth. Whether or not he catches it is unclear because he lets me go, kissing me on the cheek before I get up.

The second I get in my car, tears start to fall. I hadn’t realized my lack of experience was so...bad. That it was something to be ashamed of. Sure, I was a little embarrassed by it but I figured Spencer wouldn’t care.

But maybe I was wrong.

‘Message from Spencer: Hey, are you free for dinner tonight?’ I stare at the text for far too long, the seconds ticking by. I want to answer, to say yes and see him. But I was worried. Was this a break up dinner? A ‘I think we’re just too different’ dinner? What was going to happen?

‘I am! No case tonight?’ I stare at the message for far too long, playing around with emojis and exclamation marks before just sending it

‘Not tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7? Dress fancy.’ Fancy? Are break up dinners normally at fancy restaurants? Maybe he was going to do it after dinner. That way the nice food softens the blow of a broken heart.

I knew I never should have gone out with someone so smart.

“God...you look gorgeous.” Spencer smiles at me as I open the door, clad in a pretty baby pink dress. He hands me some roses, making my heart leap. He was too sweet.

I mean not that sweet since he was dumping me for never having an orgasm but still sweet.

“Thank you! I’ll put these in some water and we can head out?” He nods, stepping into my apartment while I dig around for a vase.

“I always forget how cute your apartment is.” He smiles as he walks around. I watch him, wondering what he’s really thinking. Maybe he actually hated it. His job depended on his ability to lie so...who’s to say he was telling the truth? Had he ever been telling the truth?

“Ready to go?” He asks, offering his hand to me. I nod and take it, following him out the door. Every step taking me closer to heartbreak.

“What are you thinking to order babe?” Spencer skims the menu, glancing up at me. I stare at the options, overthinking every choice.

I could order something super expensive, as payback for breaking up with me.

I could order something cheap and make him feel bad for breaking up with such a perfect girlfriend.

Or I could order something normal because no matter what kind of food I order at this stupidly fancy restaurant, he was going to break up with me no matter what. I might as well get a decent meal out of it.

“I was thinking the prawn pasta? It sounds really good.” He nods, waving the waiter over and ordering two prawn pastas.

“I’m sorry I had to cancel before. I just really don’t like falling behind on my work.” He apologizes. I nod slowly, trying to study his body language.

“It’s totally fine Spencer. You don’t have to apologize for having a job.” I smile softly and he grins. It’s a beautiful sight.

“Well I’m still sorry. I hope tonight makes up for it.”

“Pasta will make anything better.” I grin as the waiter brings over our food, immediately digging in.

“God this is good.” Spencer moans softly and I nod.

“Agreed. You have really good taste in restaurants.” I sip my water, Spencer smiling at me. I hate the way butterflies dance in my chest everytime he looks at me like that. But he was just so perfect. How could I not love him?

“I think it was just your great taste in pasta dishes.” We laugh together, and I smile even wider.

The rest of dinner goes similarly. I almost forget he’s about to break up with me.

“I had a really nice time tonight.” I mumble as Spencer fumbles with his key to his apartment. He turns to smile at me, before opening the door and gesturing me in.

Inside, there are what seem to be hundreds of small fake candles, lighting a pathway lined with rose petals. My brain malfunctions for a second, before coming to the conclusion that he was NOT breaking up with me. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a ring.

“So...this path of rose petals leads two ways. We could curl up on the couch and watch a movie or...we can head to the bedroom.” He takes my hands in his, smiling warmly at me. When I come up with an idea of why this is happening, my brain freezes once more.

“W-wait. You did all this...because I’ve never had an orgasm?” I frown in confusion, even more when he softly chuckles.

“Well yes and no. I did all this because you telling me that made me realize that no one has ever gone all out for you. And you deserve that. So, if you’ll have me, I would like permission to go all out for you.” He smiles at me, stepping closer. Our chests are pressed together and I swear I can feel his heart beating.

“Yes.” I whisper. That’s all it takes for him to grab my face, kissing me passionately. I melt into it, feeling incredible already. He walks me backwards, carefully so as to make sure I don’t get hurt.

We fall onto his bed, still kissing. Our bodies intertwine so much I can’t tell where I end and he begins. But that’s exactly how I want it to be.

“You look...so incredible tonight.” Spencer pulls away for a second, his thumb stroking my cheek. I smile at him, leaning up to kiss him gently.

“Think you could help me out of this dress?”

“With pleasure.” He moves at lightning pace, making me giggle at his eagerness. He groans at the sight of me when he finally gets it off, kissing me desperately.

“Can I taste you?” He whispers against my lips. I nod, anxiety starting to build in my stomach. What if he couldn’t make me cum? What if I was just broken?

“Y-yeah. Go for it.” I force a smile and he pauses, studying me.

“I don’t have to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He smiles softly, squeezing my hand. God he was just too sweet.

“No I want to. Trust me I do. I’m just...nervous? I don’t want you to f-freak out or get mad if you can’t make me cum.” I’m unable to look him in the eyes as I admit this, feeling so self-conscious.

“Hey,” He tilts my head up, “I won’t freak out. Or get mad. I just wanna make you feel good. That’s all that matters. Feeling good and being comfortable. Are you okay?” He kisses my forehead and I smile, nodding.

“Yeah. I’m okay. You can keep going...” He grins as he starts kissing down my body, undoing my bra along the way. He doesn’t spend too long groping at my boobs, clearly eager to eat me out. He pulls off my panties slowly and I whine in impatience.

“Just relax sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He parts my legs, kissing my inner thighs. My hips jolt slightly at the contact, making him chuckle.

“You’ve so beautiful.” He whispers, gently kissing my clit. I can only grip the sheets in response. Luckily, he doesn’t mind. Spencer runs his tongue through my folds slowly. I instantly try to squirm but he keeps me firmly in place.

“Fuck!” I moan as he starts moving faster, his tongue circling my clit like crazy. He hums happily at my response. Meanwhile, I start to feel a knot in my stomach building. I don’t know what it is, but I feel incredible.

“God! Right there!” My hands grip his hair, pushing him closer to me. I can feel him smirk, moving his tongue faster. I start to feel even better, my body getting close to something. With one strong flick of my clit, I get hit with a wave of euphoria. I moan so loud I practically scream, gripping Spencer’s curls far too tight. I feel him moan against me, slowing down to work me through this.

“What-what was that?” I’m gasping for breath as I start to calm down. Spencer smirks, climbing back up my body to kiss me gently.

“That...was an orgasm.” Pride shines in his eyes, making me giggle.

“That was incredible...can I have another one?” He chuckles, kissing me softly once more.

“Of course you can. Can have as many as you want. Is it okay if I fuck you?” He asks, running his fingers up and down my sides.

“Yeah! I-I’m clean and on the pill so...you don’t have to wear a condom.” I smile, the pleasure I had just felt making me feel like I was floating.

“Good to know.” He remarks as he pulls away to get undressed. I watch, grinning to myself at how beautiful he is.

“What’s got you all smiley?” He smirks as he settles between my legs, rock hard cock so close to my core.

“You’re just...so pretty.” I whisper, pulling him closer to kiss him softly. He smiles into it, arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.

“Thank you baby.” He slowly pushes his cock in, making me moan into his mouth. The stretch feels different, but so good. I pull him closer, trying to get him deeper. Like he can read my mind, he keeps going. Soon enough, he’s fully sheathed inside me. I feel so full I can hardly think.

“It doesn’t hurt does it?” He whispers into my skin. I shake my head, gently rolling my hips against his.

“The opposite actually. You can move now.” With that, he starts to slowly fuck into me.

The feeling is so incredible I never want it to stop. I had never realized sex could be this intimate. He pulls me even closer, lips pressed against my skin.

“Oh my god!” I gasp as his cock hits a spot inside me that sends a wave of pleasure through my body. He smiles, hitting it over and over again.

“God you’re just...addictive.” He mumbles, eyes filled with pleasure. His hand slips down to rub at my clit, making me choke on my breath.

“Y-you’re just saying that.” I whisper. He smiles like he knows something I don’t.

“I’m not. I am hopelessly addicted to you. And I never wanna let you go.” As if to prove his point, he slams into me a little harder. My orgasm rips through me before I can even process it. Somehow, it feels even better than the first time. I hear him groan and then feel him cum inside me. It feels me with a warm feeling, and I’m convinced I’ve never been happier.

“Fuck...” He collapses on top of me, panting and still buried inside me. I hum, running my hand up and down his back, already starting to feel sleepy.

“That was...amazing.” I mumble through a yawn. Spencer chuckles, pulling out and laying beside me.

“It really was...thank you for that.”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you?” I ask as I cuddle up to him. He hugs me, kissing the top of my head.

“No. I just...I really like you. And this was amazing. So I wanted to thank you.” I tilt my head to see him smiling at me. A real, love filled smile.

“I really like you too.” He smiles even wider, kissing me softly.

“That’s good to know. Now, get some sleep okay? We can talk more in the morning.” I hum, laying down on his chest and drifting off.

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[cici-writes]

Mine

18+

Summary: all she needs to do is give a witness statement at the station, she ends up taking care of the sweet agent who put his life on the line to avenge her sister.

Warnings: minor character death, spencer gets a concussion, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, love confessions, oral sex (female receiving) multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, daddy kink, breading kink, dom!spencer vibes

word count: 3.5K

a/n: thank you for 900 followers i'm still taking blurbs and stuff for my 800 celebration btw, i love you all so much

Sure, it was the worst day of her entire life. But there was a sure fire way to make it better. There was a very handsome federal agent on the scene of her sisters murder, and when she wasn’t crying, she was looking at him.

His hair was long, he looked really cute in his glasses, the tip of his nose was tilted to the sky, his lips were cute, he pressed them together a lot, he was really awkward and he often hunched and leaned and made him self appear smaller than his co-workers.

He talked a lot, his voice was nice and he was incredibly smart, the more she watched him the more she wanted to talk to him. She needed a ride back to the police station to give a statement, they had a killer to catch and now she was a part of the evidence.

“Excuse me?” She tapped his shoulder, “can I ride back to the station with you, I don’t feel comfortable with any of the other men, they’re all buff and harsh like he was…”

He nods, “of course, I’m doctor Reid with the FBI, I’m not a cop or anything so, you know, I don’t think I could even be buff if I tried…”

She giggled, “do you have a first name doctor Reid?”

“Spencer,” he smiles again, “you’re Y/N? The victim's sister?”

She nodded, “Kathy, her name was Kathy.”

“I’m so sorry,” he presses his lips together again, just as awkward as he was when she was just watching him from afar,

“Can I have a hug? Is that weird?” She whispered, pain in her eyes and a gut-wrenching feeling growing inside of her as she grasped the fact that her sister was dead.

“Sure,” he nodded, opening his arms and letting her hug him however she wanted.

She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her face against his chest, “don’t be afraid to hold me, it’s better for people with anxiety.”

He holds her tightly and she smiles against his chest, “thank you, I hope you find the guy.”

“I will.” He sounds confident about that.

She sits beside him in the SUV on the way to the station, giving her statement to him while Morgan drives so that she can relax once they arrive. She was stressed and shaking, she cried a lot but Spencer let her hold his hand the whole time.

Watching him work is very cool, he knows almost everything and even when he doesn’t; he knows how to get to the answers. He works for 11 hours and 14 minutes straight until he has an answer, he gathers the team and leaves to catch the unsub while she’s sound asleep in the corner of the room.

She doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye to him, or wish him good luck, she wakes up only to find the media girl and her boss discussing something quietly.

“Where is everyone?”

“Oh,” JJ smiles, “We caught the man who killed your sister, but one of our agents was injured in the takedown, they’re all with him at the hospital now as we wait for the unsub to be transferred here for questioning.”

“Is Spencer okay?”

Her face drops, she swallows before opening her mouth to speak and Y/N starts to cry, “no… he was so nice.”

“No, he’s fine!” JJ hurries the words out, “he’s just unconscious right now, he was hit pretty hard with something.”

“Can I go see him?”

JJ smiles, “Hotch? Can I take her to see Reid?”

“Why?” He doesn’t look up from his paperwork.

“Hotch,” she gets his attention and makes a face at him, “she wants to go see Reid…”

“Oh,” he gets it and actually smiles, “sure.”

—

Spencer wakes up to the feeling of something on his arm, he opens his eyes to see the girl from earlier resting her head on his arm as she sleeps in a chair beside his bed. His throat is dry and there are tubes tickling his nose hairs, he knows he’s in a hospital but he doesn’t remember why.

“Y/N?”

She wakes up with a startle, blinking into the light as she looks at him, “Spencer!”

“What happened?”

“The guy hit you on the back of the head with a shovel,” she laughed slightly, “you’ve been asleep for 13 hours, you have a big goose egg there now.”

“We caught the guy, right?” He bypasses his embarrassment at the cause of his injury and smiles at her.

“You did,” she smiles back. “I can’t go back to my house because it’s currently a crime scene, and they said you need someone to take care of you with your concussion, so I was wondering if you’d let me take care of you as a thank you?”

He nods, “only if you get me some jello?”

She just smiles, getting up from her seat she lets go of her hand and with whatever strength he had left, he held on to her. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose, “now let me go get you some jello.”

—

She sleeps in bed beside him every night for a week, making sure he’s okay like he was her own child. He knew it was part of her trauma, seeing her sister die and not knowing how to help. She wasn’t letting Spencer out of her sight, she washed his clothes and made him dinners, she organized his closet and put away all his books. She dusted and vacuumed and she loved to cuddle.

When she wasn’t taking care of him, she was holding him. She was very thankful, and Spencer was deeply in love with her by now. She liked to make dinner for him and she drove him to work because his head still hurts but he likes working, and every morning he wakes up with her cuddled against him and he never wants her to leave.

he’s gotten to know little things about her, she wasn’t ready to talk about her sister yet, Spencer went with her to the funeral and met her parents and they all tried to convince her to move home, but she said she had to take care of Spencer still. She didn’t. She just wanted to.

From the moment she saw him, she knew he was safety for her. Something about his presence soothes her soul and makes everything feel right, and she’s told him that. He doesn’t believe it will last, he personally believes she is still in shock and once she absorbs the trauma she’ll be gone. When he’s not useful in her recovery anymore, she’ll leave him.

He’s honestly surprised she hasn’t tried to sleep with him yet, “I mean we are sleeping together but not in a sexual way,” he whispers to Derek as he explains his problem to him.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, she’s clearly just using me to deal with her grief, most women either want to take care of someone else or sleep with someone, they do reckless things after losing a loved one,” Spencer tries to reason with him but it comes out more like he’s trying to convince himself.

“I have never seen grieving women make a man cute little lunches with notes that say ‘have a great day Spencey baby’ on them…” Derek teases him lightly knowing just how inept he is when it comes to dating.

“She’s compensating for not being able to save her sister,” Spencer states again, “I know it.”

“Have you asked her how she feels? Or better yet, girls love it when you tell them how you feel,” Derek offers one final piece of advice. “Just talk to her.”

—

For a genius, he’s an idiot.

She has made him dinners, she drives him to work, she makes him coffee, she cuddles him at night, she kisses him on the cheek to say goodbye, she wears barely anything to bed now and he still doesn’t get it. She wants him to make a move, tell her he wants something more, do something! But he won't in fear of hurting hurt while she grieves.

They’re sitting in bed, quiet and peaceful on the outside but inside they’re both screaming about their feelings. She wants to yell at him to just kiss her and he wants to scream at her for not being honest and upfront about whatever feelings she may or may not have.

There is a tension in the air that is thick, his hands not rubbing along her back and she’s not asleep yet so clearly, they’re both too stressed.

“What’s wrong?” He finally whispers with closed eyes, taking the lead with a silent prayer that it goes well.

“What do you think I think about you?”

It’s a simple question to which no answer feels right, he ponders for far too long and she’s worried that she’s not shown him enough love for it to be obvious, “I honestly don’t know.”

“I think you’re really cool and very kind. I liked your sneakers and the way you use your hands when you talk and how you know everything— almost everything,” she teases him softly. “And I like that you let me, a complete stranger, hug you and hold your hand because I was scared.”

“It’s the least I could do,” he feels bashful and blushes but he moves his hand along her back finally and she smiles.

“And I knew you’d be scared in the hospital, so I went in and I hugged you while you were asleep and held your hand until you woke up, and now I never want to leave you… not because I lost my sister or because I don’t know how to be alone,” she assures him, she knew that was his worry. She could feel it in him.

“I knew from the moment she died that I would feel really lonely without her, and I am… but my sister was a gift to this world and sometimes you lose your favourite things but the world doesn’t stop turning,” she has to stop to sob, her words shrink as the lump in her throat thickens and she sobs against his shirt.

He shushes her, and kisses the top of her head, “you’re my favourite thing.”

She smiles while crying, wiping her face with her hand before holding him closer, “my sister would be really pissed if I didn’t marry the hot doctor who caught her murderer.”

“Marry?” He laughs, “can we date first?”

“Do you really want to?” She peaks her head up, looking up at him. It’s dark and he’s barely there but she can see him smiling.

He nods, “I just wanted to be kind to a pretty girl going through the worst thing imaginable. I didn’t expect you to be so wonderful, and when I woke up to see you I knew I was starting to crush on you but…”

“What?”

“I love you now,” he’s scared, he looks like he’ll flinch if she makes any sudden movement.

She smiles, “I love you too, Spencer, I thought that was obvious?”

“No, I mean yes it was but the way I love you is different than the way you love me right now,” he tries to explain his feelings, but he ends up pretending he knows how she feels.

“You don’t know how I love you, you know how much I appreciate and care for you and that’s different,” she corrects him with a stern voice. “I love you very deeply because you’re my best friend, you’re my knight in shining armour, you’re the bright light at the end of the tunnel and you make me smile.”

“Oh,” his breathing slows as he takes it all in.

“I love you because you’re my Spencer, loving you is the only thing that’s been easy in my life,” she whispers. “So don’t fuck it up.”

It makes him laugh, he pulls her into another hug, “do you love me more than just platonically?”

“Yeah?”

“Like are you attracted to me or is this just because I’m nice to you?”

She pulls back from him and reaches for the lamp, turning on the light so she can look at him better. She sits in his lap and holds his face in her hands. “Are you more attracted to me now because you love me than you were when I first talked to you?”

“Well, obviously,” he answers, still not understanding why she would ask.

“I only walked up to you because you were cute, yes I felt safe but I wanted the cute FBI agent to hold me, and now you’re mine,” she confirms. “So yes, I am very, very much attracted to you, Spencer Reid.”

“Do you want to kiss me?” His eyes twinkle with excitement as she moves in closer.

She presses her lips to his, it’s soft and sweet. She kisses him again and again as he starts to get more and more comfortable with her, holding her hips as she presses her tongue to his bottom lip and he opens up with enthusiasm, making out with her like he’s been dreaming for the last week.

He wanted to stop the unsub and kiss her and all he got was a headache and a live-in nurse. It’s been a struggle trying to keep his cool, trying to not get hard as they cuddled or let any moans slip as he masturbated in the shower. But she was stunning and there was no doubt about it.

“Do you find me attractive?”

He laughs, gripping her tightly as he flips them, hovering over her with lust in his eyes, “can I show you how much?”

“Fuck, please?” The way her head moves, the desperation in her voice, everything about the way her legs spread and her body relaxes. He believes her.

He kisses down her neck, her fingers trace up and down his arms lovingly as she watches him with a steady breath. She’s anxious to see what he does, but she’s more excited to finally have him. He reaches the hem of her sleep shirt and they move together to pull it off.

She doesn’t sleep in a bra, which used to be an issue for him. The first time he fest her boobs through her shirt as they cuddled he was so glad she was asleep because he was embarrassingly hard under her.

“Can I kiss them?” He asks again, nervous for what’s too far in her mind.

“Spencer,” she holds his chin so he has to look at her, “I want to sleep with you… in a sexual way.”

“Did you talk to Derek?”

“No?” She pauses, “why what does he know about our sex life?”

“Today I told him we were sleeping together, but not in a sexual way. I said those exact words,” he explains.

“Maybe we’re soulmates,” she teases, joking but it makes his eyes light up.

“You never know,” he whispers. “We could be.”

“I really do love you Spencer, and I want to make love with you,” she matches his volume. “Please?”

He kisses her breasts like he asked to do, gently brushing his lips over her skin between kisses he was so delicate. The feeling of his hands and his tongue on her skin was incredible, she arched her back and moaned. He ground down as she did so, letting her feel how hard he was already which made her breathing hitch.

“Please, can you just fuck me already?” She’s so desperate as he continues to kiss down her body.

“No, we’re making love, remember?” His voice is so low it sends shivers down her spine.

She lifts her hips to assist in him sliding her underwear down and off. The lights are still on, he’s taking it all in, her completely naked body as he lifts her left leg and kisses her ankle, proceeding to kiss all the way to her knee before spreading her legs more. He leans in closer, kissing her inner thighs towards her dripping core as she watches.

“Breathe,” he reminds her, “you can’t cum if you’re stressing yourself out.” She lets out a deep breath and relaxes, “have you ever?”

“Yeah, just no one’s looked this closely before,” she whispers.

He gasps quietly, “can I—

“Please, oh my god, it’s all I’ve dreamed about,” she begs, and it causes a slew of dirty thoughts to fly through his brain.

“Tell me what else you’ve dreamed of?” He asks before resuming his kisses on her right thigh.

She gasps and reaches out for his hair, “can I call you daddy or is that weird?”

“Call me whatever you want,” it’s low and raspy and she grips his hair in excitement, he bites at her skin which makes her gasp and then it’s like a war between them to see who can get the other the most turned on.

He likes when she pulls on his hair, and she likes the hickies he’s littering her thighs with, edging closer and closer to her until she can't take it anymore, “daddy, please?”

He’s not sure where it comes from, but there is a fire burning inside of him that can only be snuffed why her pleasure. He wants nothing more than to see her cum again and again as a thank you for all the nights she’s stayed here taking care of him. He kisses the joint where her leg meets her hip and she stills again, panting through her nose with excitement.

Her tummy rises and falls as she breaths and he smiles against her skin at the sight. He licks a long stripe along her pussy as she grips his hair tighter with a shout, not expecting it and loving it at the same time. He’s good at this; he is loving and gentle, he knows where all the best spots are and he has a wonderful rhythm.

Her back arches as he continues to explore her with his tongue; sucking and licking into her, he adds a finger and she jolts forward, when he curls it she reaches for the sheets with both hands as he tries to keep her legs spread. Her moans and gasps are glorious, she’s never felt this kind of pleasure and thus Spencer was dragging it out. Playing with her clit before kissing around as he added a second finger, curling them alongside broad stripes with his tongue.

When he sucks her clit into his mouth, her orgasm rushes through her like a tidal wave. He fucks her through it, rubbing her g-spot with the pads of his fingers she shakes with a moan. It’s more intense than any of her orgasms with other partners, it’s spectacular.

He kisses back up her stomach, she pulls his face up towards her own and kisses him again. Tasting herself on his tongue, “I want you, now.”

“Greedy girl,” he teases her, “tell me what you want.”

“I want you to bury your cock inside me and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow,” she whispers with a smile, “daddy…”

He reaches over into his night table for a condom, “you don’t have to…” she adds.

“What?” He turns to her ins light shock.

“I want to feel you,” she whispers, “I want to be yours.”

She doesn’t know it’s a kink of his, she doesn’t know why his eyes light up as he lunges for her— kissing her neck like she’s his favourite meal and he’s on death row.

“Oh, you like that?”

He drags his cock along her folds, rubbing her clit with the head to make her shut up, it only does the opposite. She’s louder, moaning out as she grips his back and pushes up against him.

“Say it…” she whispers.

He pushes in slowly, watching her face as he mouth opens and her eyes close; she takes him well. “You’re mine,” he finally whispers.

She moans in response, pulling him in closer so she can kiss him as he starts to thrust. It’s barely kissing, they’re breathing into each other's mouths, biting each other's lips and feeling each other up as he fucks her. It’s the closest either of them has been to another person before, and it feels right.

When he starts to rub her clit she knows she’s done for, she feels her orgasm approaching. He kisses her neck, his free hand has a tight grip on her hair as he pulls her head to the side. The way she sounds while he fucks her will always be his favourite sound, she is so responsive and appreciative, she is the best woman in the world.

“Gonna cum,” he whispers, “are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she responds, completely serious as she pants against his skin, she wraps her legs around him so he can’t pull out and she finishes.

She cums with a shout, holding him tighter as she convulses with pleasure, it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life as he fucks into her one last time and cums.

His orgasm rocking through him as he still inside of her, “I love you.” It comes out at some of a grunt as he drops against her. “You’re Mine.”

“Mhmm,” she agrees, holding him closer and kissing his shoulder, “and you’re Mine.”

sum fics taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13 @idonotexiste

[cici-writes]

Semi-Charmed Life - Chapter 7 [Spencer x Reader]

Find my masterlist here. Requests are Open.

Requested: Yes l No

A/N: this chapter is named after The Last Fight by Bullet for my Valentine. Find the series masterlist here. If you would like to be added to my taglist please use this form.

CW: fluff, masturbation (male and female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, car sex, mentions of sex addiction, phone sex, swearing, post prison mentions.

WC: 2.2K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

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Chapter 7 - The Last Fight

I will fight, one more fight

Don't break down in front of me

I will fight, one more fight

I am not the enemy

I will try one last time

Are you listening to me?

I will fight, the last fight

I am not your enemy.

July 2019

Spencer drove you home from Rossi’s after a lovely evening with the team.

You were swelling with pride, he had come on so far from a few months ago and you were really starting to see more than just glimpses of the old Spencer.

“I don’t want to just assume,” Spencer spoke, the engine idling.

You laughed, knowing what he meant,

“It’s Friday night Spencer, you are more than welcome to stay the night if you-” you didn’t even get your sentence out before he shut off the engine.

He exited the car and ran around to your side so he could open your door. He helped you out of the car and held your hand all the way to your apartment.

Once inside, a tension fell about the two of you. You stood in the living room looking at one another, not sure quite what happened next.

It was like in your early days of dating before you’d slept together, that kind of longing that hung between you.

You moved closer to him, slow in your movements until you were right in front of him. You took hold of his tie and played with it in your hands.

“I’m not ready to...uhm...you know.” you breathed a shaky breath.

“It’s ok.” he told you softly. “I’m just happy getting to be near you.”

You smiled softly, moving your hands to his chest.

“I would uh...really like to…” you tried to compose yourself. “I miss the way you kiss me.”

Spencer’s heart swelled and cautiously he took hold of your face in his large hands.

“Are you sure?” he asked, edging his face closer to yours.

“Very.” you breathed and that was all Spencer needed to hear.

He closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours softly, giving you a chance to change your mind before he went any further.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and parted your lips ever so slightly, giving him the green light.

Spencer happily took it and slid his tongue into your mouth.

You explored each other’s mouths like it was the first time all over again. It was a little tentative yet so passionate.

Spencer caressed your face with his thumbs while you played with his hair.

You were both sufficiently out of breath by the time the kiss ended and Spencer was painfully hard.

“I’m going to get changed.” you panted a little.

“Ok.” he swallowed. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”

You parted ways, you going to the bedroom and Spencer to the bathroom.

He was panting heavily when he shut himself inside, dizzy from his arousal. He wanted nothing more in the world to make love to you but he had to control himself. He had to be patient.

There was no way he was going to get through the night without taking matters into his own hands though, quite literally.

He freed himself from his slacks and closed his eyes as he started pumping his member.

He pictured you in all your glory and how magnificent it felt to be inside of you.

***

August 2018

“Pull the car over.”

“What?”

“Pull the car over.”

You glanced at Spencer from the driver’s seat and almost swerved off the road when you saw he had his cock out and was stroking himself.

“Spence what are you doing?”

“Pull the car over, I need you. Now.”

“We’ll be home in under an hour.”

“I can’t wait that long. Here, pull down that side street.” The urgency and sternness to his voice made you do as he said and you pulled the car down a side road.

As soon as you pulled the car to a stop he grabbed you, tugging you over the console and into his lap.

He raised your dress up your hips, moving your panties to the side.

“Spence, slow down.” you laughed a little. “A little foreplay goes a long way.”

“No time.” he panted a little. He raised his hand to his lips and spat in his palm before moving his hand between your legs and rubbing his saliva through your folds by way of lubing you up.

You didn’t have time to react before Spencer lifted you by your hips and set you down on the tip of his cock.

He thrust into you and you groaned a little at the friction but he didn’t seem to notice.

He bucked his hips hard and fast, barely giving you a chance to adjust to the onslaught.

His lips latched on to your neck and he started sucking hard on your flesh.

You were a little sore and a little dizzy by the time Spencer came and you could already feel the bruises forming on your neck.

He lifted you off of him and helped you back into the driver's seat.

You were a little dazed by what had just happened.

“There will be a lot more where that came from when we get home.” he smirked, tucking his dick away.

***

July 2019

You were already in bed when Spencer sheepishly joined you in the bedroom. He tried to not make eye contact with you while he got undressed and slid into bed.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” you asked him once he was under the covers.

“No, not at all. And that’s why I know you know what I was doing in the bathroom.” he sighed.

“I’m sorry Spence, I’m just not there yet.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” he moved closer to you, taking hold of your face in his hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You take all the time you need my love.”

You smiled softly at him, your heart swelling.

“Would it be too much to ask for another make out session?”

“Not at all.” he laughed before kissing you again.

By the time morning came, your lips were so chapped and sore from making out all night. But it was a beautiful kind of pain.

***

Returning to the BAU seemed almost alien to Spencer. So much had happened since the last time he stepped inside this office it felt like he’d been away years, not months.

He was back two days before a case took them away to Texas.

Being away from DC and away from you and missing an appointment with Doctor Lowe all added up. Spencer found himself having a crisis of faith.

They’d been away two days when alone in his motel room Spencer was practically climbing the walls. He was so aroused it was overwhelming.

He masturbated three times but it did nothing to stem his arousal.

He was shaking and sweating, like a drug addict suffering withdrawals.

He came this close to leaving the motel in search of a hooker. This close.

But it was as though someone was watching over him because as he was about to flee the motel room, his phone rang.

“Hey,” your breezy voice came down the phone. “Just wanted to check in.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, falling back to the bed. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice right now.”

“What’s wrong Spence?” You sensed the stress in his voice.

“I-I’m having a bad day.” He swallowed. He didn’t want to be telling you why he was having a bad day.

“Work or...other?” You broached.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was hard and aching in his pants.

“Other.” He confessed. “I don’t know what’s going on with me today. Honestly no matter how many times I uh...handle things…it doesn’t help.”

“You have an addiction, Spence.” You spoke softly. “No matter how long you’ve been sober, you’ll always have bad days. It’s a craving.”

“It’s killing me. I wish you were here. I wish I could touch you. I wish you could touch me.” He was rubbing his length through his pants, he couldn’t help himself.

“What would you do to me if I were there.” Your voice was low and breathy.

“Trust me Y/N you don’t want to know.”

“Yes Spencer...I do.”

He moaned loudly at the tone of your voice. God how he wished you were here.

“I’d get you naked as quickly as fucking possible.” He laid back against the pillows.

“Not too quickly I hope. You want to have a chance to take in the red lace underwear I bought just for you.”

He hissed, palming himself hard through his slacks.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He closed his eyes, picturing it. “It cups your breasts magnificently. And those panties leave little to the imagination.”

You let out a breathy laugh.

“While you’re standing staring at me with your mouth open I’d take the chance to remove your tie and slide your jacket off your shoulders. And then I’d start on the buttons of your shirt.”

“I need out of these fucking pants.”

“So let it be.”

Spencer took the opportunity to free himself from his pants and he gasped loudly as he wrapped his hand around his shaft.

“Imagine it’s my hand on you baby.”

“I am.” He panted. “I-imagine mine is between those sweet t-thighs of yours.”

And you did.

You let your hand slip below the waistband of your sweatpants and straight into your panties. You were already so wet.

“Rub your clit just like I would baby.” Spencer panted down the phone. “Tell me how wet you are.”

“Gosh Spence,” you moaned. “I am soaked.”

“F-fuck.” he moaned too, frantically pumping his shaft. “I’m leaking for you angel.”

“Imagine I’m kissing down your body, nipping at your skin and I’m getting lower and lower…”

“Fuck please Y/N.”

“My tongue is swiping over your head. Licking up the underside of your shaft.”

“Oh my fucking god.” he moaned loudly, sending a shiver up your spine.

Your fingers work deftly between your legs. You wished it was Spencer’s long, nimble fingers on your clit but hearing his stilted breathing down the phone was helping push you close to your orgasm.

“I’m throwing you back to the bed and plunging inside of you. You feel so fucking good.” Spencer bit heavily on his lip. “I want to fucking rail you.”

“Shit Spence,” you gasped loudly. “Keep talking like and I’m going to come real fast.”

“Shit.” he moaned. “Honestly my love there is no better feeling in the entire world than the way you feel clenching around my dick when you c-c-come...oh fuck!” Spencer moaned deeply as he spilled his load over his hand.

The sound of Spencer coming pushed you over the edge too and you moaned his name as your body spasmed with your orgasm.

For a few minutes the two of you were silent, listening to each other’s heavy breathing down the phone.

Eventually you found your voice.

“I hope that helped.”

“You have no idea.” Spencer’s voice had a smile to it.

“Sleep well Spence.”

“You too my love.”

“Spence?” you whispered before he could hang up.

“Yes Y/N?”

“I love you.”

Before he could respond, the line went dead.

He put his phone down, smiling sleepily to himself.

He didn’t even get undressed before he fell into a blissful slumber.

***

March 2018

Spencer was tentative with his movements as he hesitantly stepped inside the apartment. You stayed close behind, your hand gently on his shoulder to encourage him.

“It looks...exactly the same.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it?” you closed the door behind you.

“I don’t know. I just expected everything to be different I guess.” maybe because everything felt different. Spending three months in prison made Spencer feel different in every way.

“It’s so good to have you home baby.” you placed your hands on his chest. “Do you want some food?”

“I’m not hungry. I really just want to go to sleep.”

“Ok.” you got up on your tiptoes and kissed his lips gently.

He made his way to the bedroom and stopped in front of the closed door.

You watched him for a moment in confusion before you realised what was going on.

He was waiting for a guard to open the door.

“Spence,” you whispered. “You can open it.”

He shook his head with a frown.

“I know.” He pushed open the door. It broke your heart.

He stripped down his boxers and a t-shirt before he slipped into bed. He pulled the sheets right up to his chin and nuzzled his head into the pillows.

“That’s so...comfy.” He sighed.

“I can’t imagine what it was like in there.” You took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He pulled you a little closer and wrapped his arm around you. “I haven't had a decent night's sleep in over three months. I’m exhausted.”

His eyes were already fluttering closed.

You placed a gentle kiss to his lips before settling back into the pillows.

Spencer was asleep within moments.

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Taglist -

Semi-Charmed Life -

@mcumorningstar @iamwarrenspeace @magnetas @manuosorioh @bellaswanismysoulmate @spencereidsupremacy @sweetandsunny

@rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics @gubleryum @sunkissglow

@shemarmooresfedora @wheelsupscenehater @a-broken-pact @flipperpenguins @rougewamchop @insomniaticdyke @spencers-dria

All ships & genres -

@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @mggsprettygirl @measure-in-pain @ptrs-prkrs @sexy-dumpster-fire @takeyourleap-of-faith

SR x Reader all genres -

@boxofsparklingmuses @frickin-bats @reidandhisgourd @ukai-hoe @dreatine @adoringanakin @amesandpineapples @goldeng1rl8 @dr-spencerr-reidd @90spumkin @battinsonn @sleepretreat @dr-spence-reid @thetiniestsupersoldier @spenxerslut

[cici-writes]

Honeymoon At First Sight (Spencer Reid x Reader)

request: Blurb request: there's only one room available at the hotel — the wedding suite — and it's couples only. mutual pining, either friends to lovers or enemies to lovers, hotel mixup during a case, smut(???) idk honestly just let your mind wonder free I guarantee I will love whatever you come up with. summary: the bau calls in a consultant, and spencer tries to play it cool when they have to share a honeymoon suite together. category: fluff, smut pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader content warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, lust at first sight, fingering, safe penetrative sex word count: 2.8k a/n: ahh, here we are!! this is only my second attempt at smut, so hopefully, it turned out okay! and an absolute huge thank you to @reidsbookclub for the lovely request. grecy, i love the requests you send me and apologies once again that your blurb request ended up a full oneshot, oops. anyway, i’d love to hear what y’all think of this!

masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

It was impossible not to know about the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.

Though you knew the team existed previously, it was the solving of the zodiac killer copycat case that sealed their reputation in your mind. They were absolutely brilliant—you needed to work with them, no matter what.

The opportunity presented itself not long after when an SSA Jareau sent your boss a request that you get paid time off to consult for her team. It was easy to arrange for your TAs to take over any lectures you’d miss, and before you knew it you were on the next flight out to Chicago.

In truth, you were terrified. After so much time spent learning about what this team does and how they do it, you were finally getting the chance to meet them in person. It felt a little like meeting your heroes, though you were sure they wouldn’t want to hear such a thing from someone who was meant to be a professional expert. So you allowed yourself to bounce your leg and grin on the flight, only calming down when the wheels touched earth once more.

Everything was going perfectly until you reached the hotel for the night, where Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner was waiting for you in the lobby.

“Dr. L/N?” he clarified as you approached, taking your bag from you once you nodded.

“Please, just Y/N,” you told him, knowing immediately why the team was so successful simply by the looks of this man. Aaron Hotchner exuded an aura of pure leadership—the kind developed only by years of trial and error. “It’s an honor to be working with you and your team, Sir.”

“Hotch is fine,” he corrected you back, pulling a smile from you at the familiarity of it all. “Thank you for meeting us at such short notice. I came to talk to you about an issue we had booking the hotel rooms for this case.”

That was never good. Was there not a room left for you? Would you be sleeping on the floor for however long it took to solve this case, or would they sooner send you right back home? After all, you weren’t on the team—in all sense of the word, you were disposable.

“Whatever it is, I can handle it,” you answered, wanting Hotch to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were just as strong as his team.

“The only room we could book on such short notice was the honeymoon suite,” Hotch explained, causing your hands to begin trembling. “We could only secure it if there was a couple staying there. Of course, nothing is expected of you but—”

“—from now until the end of the case I’ll be fake married to one of your agents.”

“Exactly. If you’re not comfortable, we can work it out. We’ve volunteered Dr. Spencer Reid from our team, he’s about your age and—”

“—easily the most brilliant man to walk this earth right now,” you finished, blushing as Hotch simply raised his eyebrows at you. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just...I’ve read Dr. Reid’s theses, all three of them. In short, I’ll do it. Anything to help out the case, right?”

That was how you ended up standing outside the door with the little metal heart on the front, bags still sitting where Hotch had left them. On the other side of the door would be your fake husband for the next few days, and while you wouldn’t say there was fear, you were nervous about what Spencer Reid would be like.

Working in academia, you’d seen the best and worst of people. There were those who used their brilliance to further the world, and there were those who only wanted to make a name for themselves, willing to tear down anyone who remotely stood in their way. Even the kindness of people at the start can quickly morph into monsters you hardly recognized, all because they felt threatened by you.

When the door opened, a shocked shout emitted from the room. You’d caught Dr. Spencer Reid in the middle of changing—luckily his pajama pants were already on, but his t-shirt was tossed across the room in his shock, leaving him standing shirtless in the middle of the room.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry!” you shrieked, one hand flying up to shield your view of him. “I didn’t think—I mean, I considered the possibility but the chances of it happening were so low that I t—I can’t believe this is your first impression of me I swear this doesn’t happen often.”

Your rambles were cut off when you bent to retrieve his shirt for him, one hand still covering your vision. His hand brushed yours, easily resting on top to cover your entire hand. Both of you gasped, hands flying back and letting the shirt drop to the ground once more.

“No, I’m sorry. I knew you were getting here soon but I thought I had time to change. I should’ve waited, I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized, speaking nearly as rushed as you had. “You can, uh, you can look. I mean, I mean my shirt’s back on.”

“Oh, good,” you breathed. “Wait no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sure you look very good without a shirt on. You do look good, very good actually—that’s not the point. Um, can we start over?”

Spencer’s laugh was beautiful. It was light, maybe a hint of embarrassment at your words, but free. It was what prompted you to drop your hand, still crouched to the ground with Spencer’s face close enough to steal your breath away. His hazel eyes shone bright, twinkling with the nervous smile playing on his lips. It felt like a crime that the photos of him used in conjunction with his papers were so outdated—showing the adorably sweet boy he’d once been but completely missing the hardened version of him now, with a jawline that could cut glass and curls sitting perfectly messy on his head.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he spoke, voice barely over a whisper.

“I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduced, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“You published a paper on an early detection-intervention system for schizophrenia.”

There was something special about someone you respect knowing about your work. You’d read his papers, you’d even spoken about one in a lecture last year. You’d never admit it to the man in front of you, but he was a large part of the reason you were so ecstatic to be working with the BAU.

“I did, that was my dissertation,” you answered, “I’m still researching and fine-tuning it of course, but that paper is something I’m really proud of. I read your papers, too. I found your thesis on cluster-weighted modeling and geometric regression to be particularly useful in my own research.”

“You read my work?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, raising a brow at Spencer’s pure shock. “I don’t know about here in the fancy FBI world but in academia, you’re something of a legend.”

“Is this one of those times where you’re joking and I don’t pick up on it?”

“Are you kidding? I think half my colleagues are hoping you’ll retire early and become a professor just so they can talk to you about your work.”

“What about you?” Spencer asked, his tone taking on a bit more of a playful tone.

There was something about the way he looked at you—those honeydew eyes twinkling with the adventure you would soon be taking, lips perked up in the corner to reveal the beginnings of an adorable dimple. The two of you had settled on the ground, his large hand inches from your knee—a fact you were far too aware of now, eyes glancing down and tongue darting out to wet your lips at the observation.

“I’d like to do more than just pick your brain, Dr. Reid.” If he was ready, then to hell with it, so were you.

“Show me?” Spencer challenged, eyes fully focused on your lips now. “You are my wife for the rest of the week, after all.”

“We should make our story believable then,” you returned, moving to sit in his lap, legs straddling either side of his hips. As your hands came to rest on either side of his face, Spencer’s found your hips, trailing down the outside of your thighs.

Never before had you felt this strongly about another person so soon, but all you knew now was that you needed Spencer, now. So you tugged him closer and pressed your lips to his, hands moving to his hair and tugging on the short strands as he deepened the kiss. It was like magic—the rest of the world falling away around you until it was just this room, just you and Spencer and all the passion that had arisen in the short time you’d spent together. Maybe you couldn’t call it love at first sight, but damn did it feel right.

Spencer wasted no time, hands tugging your shirt off a little awkwardly, it catching on your hands on the way off.

“It’s been a while,” Spencer explained, barely moving his lips off of yours to do so, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you answered, hands moving from his hair to help him where his own fumbled at the latch of your bra. “You’re perfect, this is perfect.”

“You’re beautiful,” Spencer breathed, cheeks a brilliant shade of red and eyes focused on your bare chest. There were few things in the world you could be absolutely sure of, but in that moment you knew Spencer’s hands were made to touch you. He cupped your breasts in them, thumbs brushing over your nipples until your chest arched into his touch and a sharp gasp of pleasure escaped your lips.

“Spencer, please,” you gasped, wondering if he’d stolen the air from your lungs permanently.

“We should move to the bed,” he spoke, words shaky as you began kissing and nipping at his neck, hoping there’d be some proof of tonight left there in the morning.

“No, right here,” you murmured against his skin, playfully biting at his neck when he began to protest.

“You’ll get a friction burn,” he tried to tell you, but there was nothing he could say to conquer the ache growing in you.

“Spencer, I need you right now. I need you, please,” you moaned as his hands continued their exploration of your body, lifting your hips off of him so he could slide your pants off of you.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” Spencer practically cooed, lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the ground and moving over you, hands on either thigh to keep them parted. “I’m yours.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, thighs clenching as Spencer ran his fingers over your center, gathering the evidence of your arousal on them before lapping it up.

“You taste so good, sweet girl,” he told you, and those words were enough for another wave of pleasure to flow through you, lighting every nerve of your body on fire. It was far too easy to imagine him, face between your legs until you’d lost count of how many times you’d cum before bringing you in for a kiss so you could taste yourself too.

This time, Spencer moved so he could give attention to your breasts too. Shocking you all at once, he pressed two fingers inside you and took one nipple between his lips, sucking and licking until you were sure you’d forget everything but his name. Your own hand came up to the other, squeezing and tugging on your breast until you were a quivering mess beneath him, back arched and hips moving in time with his fingers as if to beg for more, always more.

“Spencer, please,” you moaned, and if it were any other time you might’ve smacked him upside the head for the smirk you could feel against your chest. “God, Spencer, please. Please fuck me.”

You didn’t notice when he shed his pants, nor when he pulled on the condom. It was only when you could feel him pressing at your entrance that your eyes flashed open, hands moving to hold his where they rested against your hips.

“Are you sure you want this?” Spencer asked, face flashing with a moment of vulnerability. “We can stop now, we can lay in bed if you’d rather.”

“I’m yours. Please, take me, Doctor.”

You weren’t sure if it was the way your hips were already moving against him or the words slipping across your reddened swollen lips, but Spencer’s eyes darkened with pure lust. He was careful as he pressed into you, eyes never looking away from yours. Just as his hands were meant perfectly for you, you were sure you were made for his cock.

Everything was gentle with Spencer, even this. Even as he moved in and out of you, his lips were against your skin—it felt like he was everywhere all at once. Your legs wrapped around the small of his back, pushing him impossibly further into you and eliciting a gasp from both of you.

“You’re perfect, sweet girl,” Spencer cooed into your ear as your hands moved from his hair to scratch along his back. You were sure there would be red marks when you were done, further evidence of how you two fit so perfectly together. “You’re everything I need.”

When your release finally came, you were sure you blacked out for a second. Your hands dug into the skin of Spencer’s back, an absolutely sinful moan slipping from you as your thighs quivered against him. The new tightness of you must have been enough to push Spencer over the edge too, because seconds later he was pushing deep into you and groaning, fingers curling against you.

It was quiet between you two after—the silence only punctuated by both of you trying to catch your breath. In those first moments after, the world was reduced down to simply you and Spencer, looking at each other and wondering how you could have gotten so lucky.

It was Spencer who moved first—discarding the used condom and gathering you up to deposit you into the large hotel bed. The rose petals strewn about the comforter ended up discarded along the floor you’d just laid on, finding their home just as you snuggled closely to Spencer. His arms curled around you, creating a protective barrier between you and the rest of the world.

“I think that was pretty convincing,” you teased after the comfortable silence came to an end. “I’ll be your fake wife any day if that’s what happens.”

Spencer didn’t answer. After a few more moments of complete quiet, you lifted your head off of his chest, hand pausing its careful patterns along his heated skin. There was a pensive look in his eyes, eyebrows crooked downward and nose just beginning to scrunch as he thought. Just as your lips were parting to ask if you’d offended him, Spencer spoke.

“How would you feel about being my real girlfriend?”

If someone had told you on the flight here that you’d end up dating Dr. Spencer Reid, you would’ve laughed in their face. It didn’t seem plausible, to show up here and make such an impression that he wanted to keep you around for the foreseeable future. Still, it was impossible to deny the connection you felt with him, the deep fluttering in your chest when you looked at him. If you felt so strongly now, how would you feel when you truly got to know him?

“When this is all over, take me on a date, Dr. Reid,” you told him, knowing there were far too many words that needed to be said between you. For now, all you wanted was to stay safe in the bubble he’d created just for you. The two of you would stay entangled with each other for the rest of the night, pressed against each other despite the room in the bed.

The next morning, you’d be introduced to the team and none of them would miss the way Spencer’s eyes brightened as he showed you off. Neither of you said a word about what transpired the night before, but then again, no one needed to.

Everyone saw the way you two were meant for each other, perfectly constructed to be two halves of a beautiful work of art.

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NSFW TAGLIST

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[cici-writes]

Omg I need more “look what I did, mommy” from subby baby Spence F*** me 🥵

He’s such a naughty boy

i kinda took your request and ran with it (whoops!)

As an aside, you guys are sending such great concepts! I'm working on another in my inbox that's absolute gold as well! Pls keep them coming!

Warnings: mommy kink, sub!spence, spanking, cum play, oral sex (female receiving)

According to Spencer, it had taken you 3 months, 1 week, and 6 days to convince him to buy a new phone. But according to your calculations, it took him less than one day to figure out how to use his new phone to be a brat. He didn’t know how to change his password or set an alarm but he could send you pictures. At first, you were ecstatic, saving all his selfies to a new photo album. But then his pictures started venturing into dangerous territory. One of him with his dress shirt unbuttoned, another with a loose towel around his hips fresh after a shower, and then this latest one.

Did he know that you’d be at dinner with your boss when he sent it? Of course he did, your boy had an eidetic memory. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sent a picture of his hand covered in cum, gripping his spent cock. Look what I did, Mommy.

You downed the rest of your wine before responding, Stay right there.

You considered making up an excuse to leave dinner early but you decided against it - you wanted to make him squirm. When you finally got to his apartment nearly an hour had gone by. You rounded the corner, dropping your purse and jacket on the couch. He was exactly as he was in the picture -sitting against his headboard naked, cum decorating his stomach. His imagination had run wild as he waited for you and he was already hard from the anticipation. You sat at the edge of the bed and regarded him with a cold expression, radiating disapproval.

“Are you really so fucking desperate that you can’t wait for me to come home? You have to get yourself off like a needy, little whore” you spat. “What’s it gonna take for you to learn your lesson this time?”

He shifted his thighs, unbelievably turned on by the harshness of your words and desperate for you to touch him. “Please, Mommy. I’m sorry. I really am. I’ll take anything you give me”

“That’s what I want to hear. Show me you can be a good boy” You patted your thighs and he eagerly obeyed, laying over you facedown. You softly ran a hand over his flesh before bringing it down hard.

“You look so pretty like this, baby. Too bad you’re such a brat.” You snatched his phone from the nightstand and snapped a picture of his raw ass, a perfect red handprint raised against the skin before.

“Please, I’m going to -” he managed to get the words out between the chorus of moans he was letting out. With every blow his hips rutted against your thighs, applying pressure to where he wanted it the most.

“To what? To come?” you teased, running a hand along his raw flesh before landing another sharp sting. “You’re so fucking greedy. Go on then”

His release was instantaneous, shaking as he covered your leg with his cum. You eased him off you and into a kneeling position. “Now look what you’ve done” you scolded, looking pointedly at the evidence of his arousal decorating your leg. “Clean up your mess"

He dove in, pulling himself closer and lapping at his mess. Again, you fished the phone out from between the sheets and snapped another photo of him. When he finished he started to press sloppy kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your clothed core. He hesitated for a moment, seeking your permission which you gave by parting your legs and drawing him in closer. He dove in, pulling your underwear away and running his expert tongue up your slit. He knew you inside and out, knew just how to stroke you, just how to propel you to your peak and coax you off the edge. You looked down at him breathlessly, pulling him up into your arms. “There’s my good boy”

---

The next day Spencer ambled onto the jet, tucking himself into his seat before digging his buzzing phone from his pocket. He very nearly dropped it as soon as the screen came to life. You had changed his lock screen to the one you took of him on his knees licking his cum off your thighs.

After a moment a text notification obscured the screen. Look what you made me do

Blurb Masterlist

[cici-writes]

Unconventional

Summary: Spencer’s first one night stand ends up having a lot of strings when he sees her again at work.

y/n and Spencer are friends and they have a one night stand and she gets pregnant but Spencer has like another woman and he’s kind of a jerk…happy ending however pls

reader and spencer have a one night stand the night before she joins the team but she gets pregnant and they kinda dare maybe some angst during the pregnancy and maybe reid proposes once their kid is born + fluffy end??

A/n: thank you for these requests ! i tried to bring the angst as much as possible

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angsty Smut)

Content Warning: Swearing | Smut (R18) oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex | pregnancy | vomiting

Word Count: 6.7k

Masterlist Navigation

Y/n had never felt more like a fucking cliche. Sitting in a dimly lit bar, with other equally sad people drowning her sorrows in throat-burning liquor after her more-than-toxic ex-boyfriend started dating another girl. It had all the makings of a shitty rom-com movie.

Even more, cliche was her shameless flirting with the unfairly attractive guy she had happened to sit next to. She hadn’t had enough to drink that he was blurry, a fact she was thankful for when she saw his chocolate brown curls and perfect bone structure.

His eyes were pretty, too, but sad. There was a sorrow about Spencer- she thought that’s what he said his name was- that she couldn’t place and that she didn’t really want to know about. Her emotional baggage was far too heavy to add someone else’s worries.

The way he held his drink was attractive. The glass of scotch sat comfortably between his forefinger and thumb, giving her the incredible view that was the protruded veins running through his hands.

Keep reading

[cici-writes]

Fear That You’ll Find Out How I’m Imagining You

Summary: For Father Spencer, his life was a simple one: lead his flock in the worship of the Lord. Little he know, a fallen lamb with a breathy whisper of a voice would seep into every waking thought and make him, for the first time since his Calling, question the very vows that restrain him from all Earthly and human pleasures. Who knew the Devil had the face of an Angel and the body of a temptress.

Word Count: around 4700

Content Warnings: Religious themes and references, talk of desire and intimate behaviors, self pleasure (spoken and described, touch of Perv!Spencer, masturbation, touch of innocence kink, heavy themes of priest kink and corruption kink to come

Author’s Note: Welp!! Here it is. The Fleabag-ification of Spencer Reid with a little more spice :). I am kinda proud of how this turned out (I hate to talk about things I’m proud of but I really like this one). I’ve got room on the taglist, but please remember this fic involves heavier/kinkier themes so proceed with caution. Thank you to @reidsbookclub for editing this and giving me a lot of praise 😉

Fear That You’ll Find Out How I’m Imagining You

I suppose it makes sense that the church is my sanctuary, given that I am a priest. There’s something about it that feels like home. From the ornate thurible and the Gothic arches, I am blessed and grateful to have found inner peace within God’s home. The parish, my flock, looks to me for guidance. And I, with the wisdom of the Lord in my heart and head will do my best to follow through on my vow. My vow to the Lord, to refuse any Earthly temptation, all carnal desires that have plagued humanity till the dawn of time. I swore to myself that no flight of fancy, no temptation, no matter how sweet would sway me from the path that I forged. I believed that my Calling to serve the Lord was the greatest force on this Earth and His Heavenly Kingdom.

Yet, I sit now in a bed of my own making. The former Father Spencer Reid, servant of the Lamb of God, is a sinner. But do I regret it? Do I regret tasting Heaven herself? Do I regret feeling salvation in every pore of my body? Do I regret breaking my vow of celibacy on the very altar I once worshiped?

No. Not in the slightest.

If she’s the Devil, then light me up because I’m her only worshiper. If she is sin itself, then I am nothing but a soulless sinner. I’ll love her like the sinful man I am, even if it means my soul is damned to Hell.

I’ll shed the skin of my old life like the snake in the Garden of Eden. I’ll give up the collar I’ve worn in reverence for the Lord for the chance to have her wear my hands like a collar around her neck. I’ll turn my back on the Savior I swore to serve, because she’s my goddess and I’m her only worshiper. Her body, her hips, her lips are the only altar I care to practice at. My hands will marvel at her beauty, wondering how she’s the Devil if she looks like an Angel. I want her bathed in gold, her supple soft skin aching to be caressed by the one man who’s vowed to deny such divine pleasures. Divinity is in her lips, her crimson red, sinful lips that beg to be kissed.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

The words, echoing in my thoughts, bring a self satisfied smile to my lips. My own inner voice isn’t anything compared to the rich timbre of her voice. Though when she said it, I was basked in an euphoria like no other. When she said it, I never wanted to hear it again, unless it slipped from her wine colored lips.

Yet, forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession. I have committed the one act I’ve swore to never let cross my mind. I’ve tasted Heaven. I’ve eaten the Divine, yet forbidden fruit. And I am a guilty man because not an ounce of regret courses through my veins. My heart, my soul, my spirit are all her’s to keep, to cherish, to with as she wishes. She could break my soul in to a million fractured shards of glass. I’d look into the broken pieces of the reflective surface and I’d be gazing into your face. I’d see her soul where I see mine. She could break if she wishes, tarnish what was sparkled with an incandescent glow, because my soul was only her’s to break. I am a sinner. She’s a saint. But the lines, like most things in life, are blurred. You don’t get any absolutes.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have fallen in love with a woman. I’ve tasted the sweet essence of carnal sin on her hips and not even the most miraculous waters of your Divine Kingdom could compare. I won’t deny it, Father, I’ve in my mind all the things I could do with her. No penance will be able to reconcile that I now worship my own personal goddess in the bedroom.

I’m not a claustrophobic man, but spending an entire day in the confessionals threatens to turn me into one. It’s not supposed to be a comfortable room, but my entire body aches from being cramped up in the tiny room. The priest prior to me, Father Simon preferred the more formal setting for the parish confessions. From the ornate carvings, the uncomfortably hard kneelers, and iconography this confessional is nothing but ostentatious.

It’s dark in the small room, but the light pours in through the crack between the doorframe and the door. A decorative piece of stained glass is my only window into the rest of the church, but it’s useless to look through. The glass, ornate like everything else in this building, is a depiction of St. Augustine, a 5th century Bishop who, hundreds and hundreds of years after his death, headed my calling to the Lord. The deep cherry reds, the royal blues, and dark purple pieces of glass catch sunlight as they provide my only form of entertainment as I await the next parishioner. Saturdays during Ordinary Time mean the local sinners feel the urge to repent. They repent. I listen and give them some tasks or prayers to absolve them of their sins.

Reconciliation, as I’ve figured out in my two years at this church, is the least popular Sacrament. I suppose that it’s part of human nature, not wanting to admit wrong doings, especially when only a darkened screen sits between you and your Heavenly maker.

The door on the other side, the parishioner’s side, opens with a creak. The old cherry wood doors give off any kind of movement, telling me that there’s someone on the other side desiring to cleanse their soul. I wait for the person to talk, giving them a moment of silence before we begin.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been 3 years since my last confession,” the bodiless voice says. It’s a man’s voice, probably older than myself given the weathered tone in which he speaks. Again, I wait a beat, letting the silence sit with us. As much as I despise the crampedness of the confessionals, it’s revitalizing the same token.

“Let us start with the Sign of the Cross,” I instruct, raising my hand to my forehead, as I begin, “In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen,” I say, my voice echoing in the chamber. I can see an outline of a man through the darkened screen, he kneels before he is ready to atone for his sins.

“You may begin, my brother,” I tell him, “Please confess what you must and hope that you heart and soul will feel a weight lifted off your being,”

The man confesses. His voice shakes as he recounts the people he’s betrayed, hurt, and cursed over the past three years. I listen, nodding my head along, even though the darken screen gives the man his privacy. He continues for some time, speaking about his dependence on alcohol, his emotional neglect of his wife and children, and his desire to be a better father and husband. I can’t offer any personal advice to the topic, as it’s far from my purview, but as he finishes I ask that he joins me in prayer.

“My dear brother,” I tell him, “Let us pray,”

And the cycle continues, parishioner after parishioner. Sinner after sinner. Time seems to stand still while I’m sitting in the dark letting sinners bare their souls for a chance for their maker to forgive them. I want to make a mental note to remember to bring a watch next time I sit for confessions; the hours seem to bleed together without any end in sight.

The door opens again and the light bleeds through the screen. From the silhouette I can tell that my next candidate is a woman. I hear her puttering around in the booth, seemingly not understanding the protocol for this particular rite.

“You’re supposed to be kneeling,” I whisper, hearing her gasp, “Sorry for startling you,” I apologize, “You just sound like you’re not sure what you’re doing,”

“I’m not,” the faceless woman says. Her voice is young, maybe younger than me or around my age. For the first time, I find myself wondering what she looks like. Is her skin as soft as her voice? Are her eyes stormy and mysterious or are they sweet and docile? Is she slim and slender or is her body soft and full of curves? These thoughts trickle into my subconscious and threaten to make my skin crawl.

“Are you here to confess your sins?” I ask, “I will guide you, as a sheppard guides his lamb,” I tell her, the imaginary images of her face popping up in my mind as I speak. I close my eyes, succumbing to total darkness as I force the very thoughts out of my mind. I should be the one on the other side of the confessional, not this woman.

“I’m honestly not even sure why I am here, Father,” the woman whispers into the dark, “I’ve done bad things. But I’m not sure if I regret them. But I’ve never done this before,” I hear the cushion of the kneeler squeak as the woman moves around, probably still uncertain about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“That’s quite alright,” I say, consoling the woman without a face, “I can show you the ropes if you’d like,” I whisper back, terrified that this room isn’t soundproof like promised.

“Do I really have to say ‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned’ or is that only in mafia movies?” the woman asks, making me chuckle, despite my usual level of professionalism.

“Raise your hand to your forehead, dear,” I instruct, licking my lips as I continue, “And say, ‘in the name of the Father’,” she repeats after me, following my instructions as I continue, “And now touch your right shoulder and say ‘and the Son,’ and lastly, touch your left shoulder and say ‘and the Holy Spirit, Amen,”’

The woman does as she’s told, her voice but a shaky whisper above my own. I shift in my seat, even more aware of the crampedness of this room. The stained glass, my window the rest of the world and this flimsy, darkened screen the only barrier between me and the sinner before me.

“And now you may say it,” I tell her.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispers, and I can hear every time she catches her voice. I can hear a layer of mystery in the way her voice gravels. I’ve never listened to voices like this before, “I-I’m sorry,” she says, the kneeler creaking as she stands suddenly, “I have to go, I’m crazy to do this-”

“Stop,” I say, my voice firm and steady compared to her weary and unsteady one, “Stay where you are. You’re here to confess your sins and you will,” I tell her, wondering if that gulping sound is coming from her or if I’m just imagining it.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, kneeling back down. Through the screened barrier I can see the shadow of her hands. She clasps them tightly like she’s praying. I wonder if she’s ever been in this position before, albeit in less holy ways.

“It’s Father,” I correct, “Father Spencer,” I say, correcting myself, “It’s okay for you to know my name, even if I can’t know your name. It makes it less intimidating,”

“Yes, Father,” she whispers, and if I wasn’t such a pious man I would have sworn there was some sort of curse placed on me the moment those words slipped from her lips. I’ve never seen her lips before, but I know that they are beautiful. I know that she is beautiful, “Father Spencer,” she says, playfully, almost in a teasing tone.

“That’s my name,” I say, for the first time in my entire career, unsure of what to say. I could feel my mind twist over and over, tumbling around searching for the right words to materialize, “What brings you here today?”

“I’m not too sure, Father,” the woman starts, “I saw the church across the street and thought that it looked peaceful. If I’m being truthful, I’m a little embarrassed to tell you,” the adds, the nerves in her voice apparent even though I can’t read her body language through the barrier.

“And why is that? If you don’t regret what you did to someone,” I continue, “Part of this sacred sacrament is feeling a desire to seek forgiveness, if I can be so bold to say, regret is usually people feel,”

“I see,” she says, “It’s just difficult to admit, Father. Considering you are…,” her voice, trailing off into the darkness leads me to fill in the blanks. I look up to the nonexistent clock, wondering for a second how many more parishioners I’ll have to get through before I’m finished. I then give my attention back to the woman on the other side of the screen barrier.

“Considering I’m a priest?” I ask, not completely understanding what she’s implying yet, “I’ll promise you that I’m not what priests typically look like. I have all my hair still, for one thing. And I’m a quite bit younger than what most people imagine when it comes to priests,”

“I know,” she whispers, not giving me enough time to comprehend her implications, “I mean, I googled you. Before I walked into this…”

“Confessional,” I correct, “So you know what I look like? Why did you look me up?” I ask, wondering, despite my peaking interest in this mysteriously intriguing woman, if I’m opening a door that I’m forbidden to even think about.

“Because I was scared. This whole disembodied voice thing is a little creepy, if I could be blunt with you Father,” she tells me, a wry chuckle slipping from my lips before I can stop it, “But that was a mistake. Googling you, I mean. It’s going to make this much harder than I thought,”

“And why is that?” I ask, wondering for myself where this would lead.

“You’re a very attractive man,” she says, “And the sins I’ve committed are of the intimate and carnal nature,” the woman tells me, a hidden raspiness to her voice making me lean forward in the confessional. I fold my hands, linking my fingers together as I wait for her to continue.

It’s a peculiar word, carnal. It originates from Latin, a language that I’m all too familiar with. The word is the kind of word that evokes the feelings that it means exactly. Carnal Natural. The mystery woman, who may have skin softer than silk and eyes more tempting than red wine, is on her knees inches away from me confessing to the very sins I deny myself the pleasure of committing. I may be a pious man, who’s dedicated his life to answering the Lord’s calling. But I’m a man still, a man with desires, deep desires. Desire of a very carnal nature I’m denied.

It’s a bed of my own making I suppose, but I’ll forever crave to share the bed with someone as well.

“I’m only a witness,” I reassure, unsure if it’s more for myself or her, “You’re really confessing to God, I’m but a mere servant,”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Father?” the woman asks, and I swear I can taste the teasing from her lips, “I’ve touched myself,” she reveals, a beat of silence festering between us.

“You mean,” I say, collecting myself as I shift uncomfortably in the chair. It’s hotter than ever in the tiny room and I am intimately aware of the nearly suffocating pants I’m wearing, “You’ve touched yourself in a self-pleasuring way,”

“Yes, Father,” she answers, her silhouette bowing her head in only what I can assume is humiliation and embarrassment, “It felt good so I’ve done it many times. My boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, struggled to make…”

“Climax?” I offer, refusing to conceal the smirk that materializes across my face as I hear the woman’s frazzled stutters, “I’m a human, my dear. And a man, but you did know that already,” I tease, wondering if her cheeks are heating as I continue.

“Father,” she says, her voice strained with guilt and humiliation, “I want to know if I’m headed for damnation? I try to be a good person, to live my life with good rules, even if I’m not a practicing Catholic. But I’m terrified that this makes me a sinner,”

“I don’t think it has to do with you touching yourself,” I tell her, assessing the situation and hoping in all of my bones that I am giving this wildly interesting woman somecomfort, “I think you’re wondering if you’re a good person, is that right?”

“Yes, Father,” she replies, the silence hanging again in the sticky heat of the confessional, “I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time,”

“You’re a good person,” I tell her, “We’re all sinners in the eyes of the Lord, none of us perfect, none of us sweet and Holy as him. But if we strive to do some good in this world, we can seek eternal life in paradise with him,” I say, wondering if these words are empty promises to her, while they are the very essence of life to me.

I don’t reply, letting the words stick to my skin like honey dripping from beehives. I can feel it in the silence that sits between us. Her heavy, labored breathing and fidgeting against the kneel tells me all I need to know. I’m suddenly filled with an urge to comfort her in a way that blurs the lines like never before. I hardly know this woman; not her name or age, not what she looks like or what she does for a living.

I’ve never felt a desire for a woman this strong in years. I hardly know her, yet I’m overwhelmed with a desire to wipe the tears from her face that I’m sure fall onto the kneeler. I want to brush my fingers across her undoubtedly soft skin and kiss away the things that eat away at her heart. We’re strangers, yet there’s something pulling me towards her, making me question everything I’ve accepted with faithful endeavor.

“Thank you, Father,” she whispers. She shuffles around in the confessional, perhaps searching for her belongings in the dark, still unnerved from the nature of our conversation. She’s quiet, not speaking another word as she exits the confessional. The light seeps into her side of the confessional when she opens the door, reminding me that, in fact, there’s an outside world beyond these walls.

Even though I’m not supposed to, I throw the door open, unsure myself of what exactly I intend to do. The woman from the confession dashes out of the church down the aisle like a runaway bride. I’m tempted to stop her, but I’m not even sure I want to do that in the first place. I’ve already crossed the line, the blurry gray line that’s holding me back from my human desires.

I’m a lucky man, it turns out. Because when she left I not only got a glimpse at her, but my mystery woman left something behind: a perfume-stained handkerchief.

After my encounter with the woman in the confessional, I’ve tried nearly everything to get her out of my mind. I failed. There was something about the breathy way she spoke, the earnestness in her voice when she asked for a kind of forgiveness that even she didn’t know if she wanted. Days later, I would still find myself imagining what she looked like and, like most things, it leads to thoughts that slowly become clouded with forbidden thoughts.

I had a life before I entered the Seminary. A life of a man with desires of the carnal nature. When the woman in the confessional gave her penance about touching herself, I knew exactly what she was talking about. I knew the way that her body would twist and arch with a burning pleasure like no other. I knew the way that she’d bite her lip in an attempt to stifle her moans. I knew the way that she’d do it again and again, seeking the same pleasure over and over.

For years, I’ve restrained myself. I’ve denied myself the sinful pleasures that humans crave. I gave up the life I once led to serve the Lord as a faithful, pious man. But, at the end of the day, aren’t I just a man? Aren’t I a man with desires? Aren’t I a man who could find a woman, who’s voice is nothing but a godless call to the pits of Hell. But if her voice, her breathy, earnest, sweet voice is the song of Hell, then the Devil himself can hand me the hymnal because I'll be singing her praises.

I can hear her voice echoing in my thoughts, encouraging me as my hands unfasten my belt. My black pants fall to my knees, leaving me in my collared shirt and underwear. I should have realized that thinking about this woman would have had this effect on my body and my mind. Perhaps it’s because I’ve denied myself these pleasures for so long that the anticipation is bound to be more intense.

I think of her voice and how soft her hands must be as I pull my hardened erection from my underwear, slowly starting to touch myself with a tight grip. Her breathy voice, airy and Heavenly fills my mind. It’s like the kind of sweet perfume that's so stifling all you can think about is the way it makes you dizzy. As I stroke my cock, I’m plagued with the thoughts of this woman’s perfume. Her handkerchief is buried deep into my pocket, burning a hole through my skin as I go throughout my days.

Moving up and down with my hand on my cock, I imagine she’s kneeling before me, not unlike she was in the confessional. I bring the handkerchief to my nose, breathing in her smell as if I was burying my nose into her neck. Of the glimpse I got of her skin, I know she’s soft and pliant. I think of her breathy, helpless tones as they flutter in my mind. I’ve never seen her face, her lips, her eyes, yet I know I want to see what she’d look like with my cock in her mouth. I wonder if her eyes would flutter with pleasure as I stroked my fingers against her cheek? Would she touch herself while she took me in her mouth, aching to bring herself to the very temptatious climax she confessed to me on her knees days ago?

Groaning, the thoughts and images and sounds flutter in my head, desperately untamed and Hell-bound. I’ve only heard her voice and it’s like I can imagine the way her body would writhe under my touch. I wonder if I ever treated her like she deserves. I curse myself for being the man that’s forbidden by his maker to bring that sinful pleasure to her lips, her body, her mind.

My collar is tight against my next, choking me like an all knowing vice. I feel my blood boil as my hand continues to pleasure myself, wondering how it would feel with a much smaller, much softer, much more angelic hand bringing me to the brink. Or her mouth, wet and warm, taking me in whole with her eyes daring me to proceed. I groan at the thought of watching my dick slip in and out, disappearing in her tight cunt. It’s almost like I can hear the breathless, uncontrolled moans slipping from her perfect lips.

My thoughts, sinful and laden with guilt, thought of what she’d look like on her knees for me, without a screen barrier dividing us. My hands wanted to cover her skin, touching her in places that I’ve vowed to never touch. I wanted to bring her the very pleasure that I’ve restrained myself from. I want to feel how Heavenly soft her thighs would feel as they wrapped around my head like a vice. Not even the Holiest chalice with the Blessed Wine could compare to her taste. I’ve never even feasted on her yet and I’m already desperate for more. My hands and thoughts grow more and more restless….and remorseless as I continue to stroke my length.

If she was sitting before me, I’d tear her clothes from her begging body, touching her and bringing her enough pleasure to confess her sins for a lifetime. No part of her would go unkissed, untouched, unloved. I’d worship her like she’s the most divine altar, because she’s the most precious offering.

I feel heat grow in my stomach and rise throughout my entire being. It’s like all the cells in my body are on fire. I’ve done this before, I’m a man, a human with desires, but it’s never been like this.

I feel everything slip from my metaphorical grip. I throw my reservations to the wind in an attempt to chase my release. If I close my eyes tight enough it’s like I can imagine her hand bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I wonder if she’d give it to me without teasing, or if she’d like to deny me over and over, watching my stony exterior crumble. I’d let her destroy me, I’d like her to ruin me over and over if I’d get a taste of her sweetness in return. They say that the Devil is a terrifying, imposing figure of pure fire, yet as I close my eyes I can only see a Heaven-sent angel. Her lips, rosy and tempting. Her hips, marked with mouth. Her soul, bared and vulnerable, a perfect match to mine.

“Fuck,” I groaned as I finished into my hand. The sweet echoes of voice ricocheting in my head.

My cheeks, flushed with a mixture of humiliation and fervent need, burn a fiery red. My lips, bitten from keeping my moans silent, are swollen and nearly bloodied from the pressure. Her touchless touch dirtied my soul. It unleashed a carnal nature in me. My hand is slick with my release, yet I continue stroking beyond my climax. I don’t have a name to call out in pleasure, but God seems to be inappropriate for a plethora of reasons. Yet, her name would be the sweetest thing to cross my lips, and I’ll be damned if I could never hear her scream mine, even if it will turn me into a godless, Hell-damned man.

I sit there, forehead shining with sweat and pants around my ankles. A smile, sinful and proud forms across my face. Grinning like the Devil, I think I finally understand what the woman in the confessional meant by not regretting it.

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@spenciesprincess @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidssbau @ssawonderland @spencerreidsmommy @awhoreforspencerreid @safespacespence @gublur @spider-man-stiles-gubler @reidsbookclub @strawberrykittey @fightingdragonswithreid @simp-for-men-80083 @boldlyvoid

[cici-writes]

Connection - BLURB

Couldn’t get this concept out of my head, so you really have @spenciebabie and the anon from that post to thank for this 🤩

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: SMUT (18+) Warnings: mutual masturbation, cum eating Word Count: 1.3k

MASTERLIST

You knew he wasn’t sleeping. You weren’t either, for that matter, and you were pretty sure you were both awake for the same reasons.

Within the past few years it had become blatantly obvious that you and Spencer were in love with each other. And until about a month ago, you were the only ones who hadn’t picked up on it. Coincidentally, you both had the realization at about the same time, which was why the past month had been awkward as hell.

It’s not that you avoided each other, but you certainly avoided compromising positions. When being paired together for a case, you were careful to stay somewhat apart, because every time his hand brushed yours, your insides turned to utter mush. You also tried to stray away from looking at his hands, because… well, they were distracting, and that was putting it lightly.

Keep reading

[cici-writes]

Okay but having an accidental pregnancy with young Spencer having a kid but he's just like 'w-we made that'🥺

S1/S2 dad!spence brings me so much joy!! 

hes worried of course, hes just starting his career and he cant really look after himself that well but when you tell him youre pregnant his reaction is nothing short of ecstatic.... hes starts preparing instantly, he starts reading all these parenting books, he even tries to be subtle and ask hotch for advice (he says hes just curious) and eventually morgan overhears and he’s like “whats with the sudden interest in kids reid? you knock someone up?” and he starts laughing bc theres no way spencer reid would do that... especially not when hes so sure spencers a virgin. spencer gets so flustered and hes like “a-actually yes... my girlfriend is pregnant.” and no one believes him at first but when spencer shows them the sonogram the room is stunned into silence, the baby of the team is having a baby!!!

everyone is soo supportive, jj and elle give him so many tips on how to support you in this time and gideon and hotch give him some fatherly advice, derek has a new found respect for spencer which spencer secretly loves and PENELOPE oh penelope she is just overjoyed, she knits the baby so many things and buys y’all so much and organises the best baby shower ever !! she also regularly checks up on you if spencers away on a case and spends so much time telling the baby about its dad and how cool he is... just the sweetest angel

now spencer....he is just the best, he makes those late night fast food/grocery runs if your cravings hit late at night, he’ll hold your hair back when youre sick even if he is a germaphobe ur carrying his baby and its the least he can do, he’ll do a bunch of research on how to avoid morning sickness and the best things you can do to have an easy pregnancy, he gives you massages and even stops drinking coffee because he knows you cant and the smell of it makes you crave it !! hes with you at every appointment no matter what and he definitely cries when you hear your babys heartbeat for the first time....

when its finally time for the baby to be born, he’s probably at work and you ring him and youre like “its time...” and he starts to panic because even though hes been preparing it hasnt quite him that hes going to be a dad!!! everyone notices him acting all strange and eventually jj takes the phone from him and is like “hello?” and when you tell her she squeals and tells everyone else who in turn rush spencer out of the building and back home so they can take you to the hospital... once you get there hes with you the whole time despite the nurses begging him to take a walk because he wont stop talking their ear off about what you need or how to do their job 😭 eventually its time to push, spencers a skinny little thing but he takes your hand in his and allows you to squeeze as tight as you like, and even though hes sure he can feel is hand breaking he would knows youre in a hell of a lot more pain than him, he talks to you the whole time and youre stuck between yelling at him for putting you through this and finding comfort in his voice, when it comes to the last few pushes he places sweet kisses along your sweaty forehead and whisperers so many praises...

the first time he hears your baby cry he cannot stop the tears from falling and when the nurses offer to let him cut the umbilical cord he doesn’t hesitate to grab his goopy baby and cut the cord... hes just in complete awe of this tiny little thing that you’ve created together, a baby... his baby.... when the babys all cleaned and up and everything has been done its just the two of you in the room, its silent but a peaceful silence.. hes sat next to you on the bed and you’re both staring at this amazing creation and hes just like “we made that....” and you’re just sending him these heart eyes and you have to give him a kiss because even though having an oopsie baby was terrifying theres no one you wouldve rather done with... and he feels the same way...

the team comes into the room a little later, all taking turns to say hello to the newest bau baby... spencer definitely makes them wear scrubs and masks because hes all too aware of how easily germs can spread to babies and he isnt going to risk anything, but anyway everyone is in complete awe of your baby its a perfect mix of you and spencer... with his hair and nose and your eyes and mouth... its beautiful and everyone knows they’d do anything to protect them, penelope definitely cries and derek gives spencer the biggest hug and gideon is just so proud of spencer, for rising up to this challenge and doing his very best... and spencer is just so grateful for everyone around him especially you and your amazing child....

im so emotional omg sorry for writing so much

[cici-writes]

imagine new dom spencer with experienced sub reader. idk why but that would either b the cutest thing ever or way too chaotic. i need ur thoughts babe

he starts off slow, allowing you to lead - following your motions before gaining the confidence he needs to explore your body. his hand gently brushes against your collarbones, too nervous to move his fingers any higher. so you gently guide him - your own hand wrapped tight around his wrist directing him where he needed to go. his fingers make contact with the flushed skin and he looks at you for permission before pressing down. “is this ok.” he whispers, his eyes staying on yours watching for any sign of discomfort.

“harder spence, its ok.” you whisper, your voice almost cutting off as you adjusts his hand so its tighter around your throat. he gasps a little as your jaw falls open at the sudden motion. a small smile forming on both your faces as he begins to play around with his grip. taking note on how your body reacts to different amounts of pressure.

he’s rutting against you at the point, the feeling of having control over you, the knowledge that you would entrust him to do this to you is overwhelming - the harder he squeezes your throat quicker he moves his hips between your thighs. “please spencer, cum for me.” you whisper in his ear, your voice strained from the pressure on your throat and that’s enough for him to reach his high, making a mess all over your thighs. he looses his grip as his hips slow their movement, and he smiles down at you before placing a kiss to your lips.

“you’re so good for me.” he whispers to you as he removes his hand, leaving kisses where his fingers had been. he hadn’t left any marks this time - thats not what this was. you were simply practicing, teaching, learning - there was plenty of time to make you completely and utterly his.

[cici-writes]

The Thought of You

Request: Hi there! Could you do an imagine on Spencer masturbating while thinking of reader and how beautiful she is? I just think it seems so sweet

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! I know you were very excited for your request to be published, so sorry it took a while for me to get around to it but here it is!! I hope it was worth the wait! Also originally I was going to write this in third person but I thought having a second person ~vibe~ would be more intimate. Even tho the reader isn’t in most of it, I still thought it was nice idk im not a writer 

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut??? One-sided smut?? 

Content warning: Male Masturbation, ejaculation 

Word count: 1.2k

——————–

Spencer pulled up his covers to snuggle himself between them to get some well-deserved sleep. He was going to have to sleep alone since you were working an overnight shift. He wished you two spent more time at night together. Between his job causing him to travel often and you working overnight shifts at the hospital, it was hard to have quality time at night.

He tucked himself in-between his cover and laid down. Even though he was exhausted from the day, he found himself looking at the ceiling. The day was left behind him and all he had on his mind was you. He had seen you in the morning before he headed out to work. He felt lucky enough to have kissed you that morning. The memory was the only thing he had with him that night.

The last time you two had cuddled was a few days ago. He had been laying in bed one night and you had walked out of the washroom. He remembered how you were just in nothing but your underwear and sports bra.

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[cici-writes]

May I please Request an Imagine about MGG during the various stages of you're first pregnancy? Like, him finding out, Gender Reveal, Setting up the nursery, discussing names, Labor and Delivery and Him meeting/ holding his baby for the first time? please!

omg yes i love this

–

you had to figure out a perfect way to tell him. you wracked yourself brain for three days, before figuring it out.

“what’s this?” matthew said with a grin, as you sat a small present box down in front of him. you smiled, shrugging, “just a little something for you.”

“i’m one lucky guy,” he said, sitting up to lean closer to you and hook his arm around your waist, pulling you down to sit in his lap. you giggled, and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“if something jumps out of this box and scares me, i’m going to tickle you so hard,” matthew playfully threatened, and you laughed, as your nerves began to build, “just open it already!”

“okay, okay,” he laughed, taking the lid off the box and pulling out the small set of socks, “socks...”

“mismatched socks,” you said with a soft smile. his brow was furrowed in confusion, before you watched it rise as he realised, whispering, “baby’s mismatched socks.”

he was quiet for a second, before his head snapped you look at you, “you’re shitting me.”

“i’m not,” you giggled, and his eyes got even wider, “you’re shitting me!”

“i’m not!” you laughed harder, before squealing as he lifted you in his arms and began to jump around the room, “we’re gonna be parents! i’m gonna be a dad!”

you laughed as he did, before patting his arm, “okay baby, can you put me down before i get dizzy?”

you were back on your feet in an instant, his arms holding you up as concern laced his features, “are you okay? do you need to sit?”

you laughed at how overprotective he already was, “i’m fine, gube. i’m okay.”

he nodded slowly, before sinking down onto his knees to wrap his arms around you, smiling as he rested his head against your belly, “i’m gonna be the best dad in the world. i promise.”

–

“you’re sure you don’t want to do this around other people? arent gender reveals usually a big party or something?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “i’d much rather it be just us. now come on. do you want some of this cupcake or not?”

he just stared at the vanilla cupcake, narrowing his eyes at it, “i still can’t believe this is all down to a cupcake. what if the bakery got it wrong? what if the cupcake is stupid and it has the wrong gender?”

you giggled, resting a hand on your now visible baby bump, “they reassured me that it’s right. do you wanna bite it? or cut it?”

“i’m gonna sink my chompers into it,” matthew said, making you giggle again, before he looked to you, “you’re sure you don’t want it?”

“matthew! bite into the damn thing so i can find out what gender my baby is!” you demanded, in quick as he could, he lifted it and bit into it. you were both sitting cross legged on the floor of your living room, the fire roaring. the sound of the fire was all you could hear as you waited patiently.

matthew swallowed, staring at the bun in his hand, before sitting it back down on the plate, at an angle you could see.

pink.

“we’re having a baby girl?” you said softly, feeling your heart swell. matthew didn’t speak. he couldn’t. when your dragged your eyes away from the cupcake, you saw why. because tears were dribbling down his face as he bit his bottom lip.

“are you unhappy?” you asked, shuffling closer to him to wrap your arms around him. he ducked so his head was against your belly as he cried, “i’ve never been happier. well, aside from when i married you.”

you giggled as your own tears began to fall, “good save, gubler.”

“a girl. holy shit,” he murmured, pressing small kisses to your bump, “a little girl. i can’t believe it.”

–

“for the last time, we’re not calling her rumple!”

matthew pouted, looking over at you. he smiled as he watched you paint one of the bedroom walls the pale lilac you had both agreed on. his smile faded, however, when you began to stretch to reach up higher. and then you were up the first step of the step ladder, and then the second.

“hey, nope, not happening,” he said as he walked up behind you, his hands moving to your hips as you reluctantly climbed down, “matthew, c’mon, i was barely ten inches off the floor.”

“don’t care. doctor said the the medication you’re taking for morning sickness can result in dizziness. you’ve already fainted once on me, and once was more than enough,” matthew insisted. despite the fact that you were already on the ground, you stil bargained, “i’ll stop going up the stepladder if you agree we’re not calling her rumple.”

he huffed, but smiled slightly, “alright, deal. how about spencer?”

you laughed, going back to paint the wall that you could reach, “actually not bad. do you like that name?”

he shook his head, “i mean, i do. but not for our daughter. i feel like spencer is a real person, y’know, and that’s his name... that sounds really weird.”

you smiled, “it doesn’t sound weird baby, i get what you mean. we’ll have to keep thinking, then.”

–

matthew winced as he heard you groan from the bedroom again. he got up from his office chair, leaving the room to tiptoe back over to the bedroom. he felt completely useless, as you lay in bed and let the contractions happen, so you encouraged him to move to his desk to get some actual work done. however, now he just felt like an asshole.

“are you sure you don’t need me to do anything?” he asked softly as you panted, another contraction having passed. you had been going through this pain for a day now, but when you initially went to the hospital, they sent you home because you were only in the first stages of labour. and you were still stuck there, it seemed.

“put me out of my misery,” you grumbled, shutting your eyes. he chuckled softly, walking closer to kneel down beside the bed and take your hand in his. you opened your eyes to see him watching you adoringly, speaking quietly, “hi.”

“hi,” he said, squeezing your hand softly, “are the contractions getting closer together yet?”

you shrugged, “only buy a few minutes. my water hasn’t even broken yet. this is so stupid. giving birth is nothing like it is in the movies. they just push push and pop out a baby like it’s a five minute thing.”

matthew chuckled, moving his other hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, “i know, baby, i know. i wish i could take away all your pain.”

“it’s okay,” you hummed, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of it, “it’ll be over soon enough.”

–

eventually, you ended up in the hospital to finally give birth, which thankfully didn’t take very long. and then she was here. you were holding your daughter in your arms.

“she’s so small,” matthew said quietly, moving his hand to hold her tiny one. her entire hand couldn’t even wrap around his finger, and that made him begin to cry.

“look at her hair,” you whispered in shock, as matthew continued to sniffle, “it’s just like yours, matthew, it’s so dark. i bet it’ll be curly like yours as well, when she’s a bit bigger.”

“don’t even talk about her growing up, the thought of that already makes me want to cry. well, cry some more,” he said with a smile as he wiped his wet cheeks, “can I hold her, just for a second?”

you nodded, “of course,” and carefully handed her over to her father. he had taken his shirt off, which confused you for a moment, before you remembered that skin to skin contact was encouraged for fathers as well.

“hi baby,” he said softly, holding her so carefully, “i’m your dad. isn’t that cool? i think it’s cool.”

you giggled, resting your head back on the pile of pillows you had as you watched your husband and daughter together. his jaw dropped as he watched her yawn, the excitement in his eyes undeniable.

“can we make more babies?” he said, making her eyes widen, “if you think i’m going through that again any time soon, you’ve got another thing coming, matthew.”

–

taglist: @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @fallinallinmendes @beyonces-breastmilk @spencerlikesapplejuice @pastathighs @gcblers @hushfakebitches @ijustcomeheretoread @thelovelyrose @187-reid @madison-malfoy

[cici-writes]

ok i have a hc i guess but i’ve been hesitant to send it because i was worried it was like kinda gross and i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but i couldn’t find like a list or anything of what you won’t write so i’m going to send it but you can just ignore it if you think it’s gross or makes you uncomfy, but, basically like: you’re in a relationship with perv spencer and he’s horny and you keep sort of brushing him off and he’s like “are you okay?” and you’re like “i’m on my period 😳” and because he’s a perv it just turns him on more and then you guys fuck. idk i just think perv spencer would be into that (and period sex needs to be less stigmatised)

also i’m sorry you haven’t been having a good day, i hope this doesn’t make it worse <3

not uncomfy at all! thank you for this idea i wouldn't have ever thought of this if you didn't send this! you're right about periods and the unfortunate stigma around them. Also I don't have a 'what I wont write' list because I'm still unsure what I wont write so keep sending them in !

cw: periods duh but just in case you didn't read the ask this is going to be about period sex

it's been 2 weeks of the horniest, dirtiest, hot sex she's ever had in her life. her boyfriend was a perv of sorts and he would get it up for anything and nothing all at the same time around her. she loved it, it was nice to be wanted and desired and his little noises were a bonus.

but when her period came around she didn't know how to tell him he'd have to wait a few days, so every time he came on to her she either brushed him off or handled it for him before saying she wasn't up for him to return the favour.

she's just standing at the kitchen counter on her phone when she feels him press up against her back and reach his hands around to cup her boobs, he kisses her neck and she just sighs.

he pulls back anxiously, "sorry, are you okay?"

she hurries to turn around and hold him in a hug, "I'm on my period..." she whispers.

"oh, so?"

"so?" she raises her brow at him, he was smarter than most men and yet she had no faith in what was about to come out of his mouth.

"did you know that orgasms on your period can relieve cramps, shorten your periods and even relieve headaches, nausea and congestion?"

"seriously? you're that horny all the time that you'd still fuck me on my period?" she can't help but smile, pressing herself against his chest more as his eyes darkened.

he nods, "if you want to prep a bit I can get a towel for the bed and a washcloth for the clean-up?"

and so he does, he's over-cautious and he knows all the right positions for ultimate pleasure and less mess, it's better than she figured and he was right about it helping.

she's on her side, he's behind her with his hand on her ass watching himself pump in and out of her gloriously. it's slick and tight and he uses a vibrator to her clit as she just lays back and enjoys herself.

and then it becomes a regular occurrence every 28 days.

[cici-writes]

Never Have I Ever // SNEAK PEEK

Here's a sneak peak at a fanfiction I am writing. It's called Never Have I Ever!! Hope you enjoy this sneak peak.

Content: fem!reader, gendered pronouns and titles, sub!spencer, cursing, masturbation (male)

Word count : 1,072

“So.. Pretty boy, a fantasy about a coworker huh? Naughty boy” I teased, it only seemed to make him a little more nervous, a dark pink blush instantly flushing his cheeks. “I- uh yeah” He stuttered, shifting in his seat and avoiding eye contact. “It just kind of happened” He added quickly, fiddling with his fingers as he spoke.

“Who was it? JJ? Elle? Garcia?” I joked, pinching his thigh teasingly, Spencer didn’t answer. Instead of pressing harder I just opted to turn the radio on instead, switching it to the station I had programmed just for when I drove with him. 91.5 Classical Medley.

For the next 10-15 minutes we just drove, silently enjoying the music together. Until I pulled into his apartment complex, parking in a visitor spot to drop him off. “Y/n?” Spencer said his first words in a while, sounding unsure of himself “It w-was about you.” He said so quickly I almost missed it, finally making eye contact with me for the for the first time in an hour or so.

His words took my by surprise, “What?” Even though I fully understood what he was trying to say, “N-Never have I ever..” He took a pause. “I-my fantasy was about you Y/n. Actually b-both of my answers were about you. I-I’m so sorry”

I could tell my face must’ve been very expressive of the shock I felt bc of how quickly Spencer was to apologize again. “Fuck I’m sorry, I-uh I should go.” He scrambled to grab his bag and reach for the door, so reaching for his hand, I spoke “Wait Spence, no”

He quickly turned to look at me, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Without further explanation I pulled my keys from the ignition and got out of the car, knowing Spencer would follow me. We made the quick walk down the street to my apartment complex, Spencer rambling the entire time, confused by what was happening. “Y/n I really am sorry, I-I am also a little bit confused so if you could just explai-” His rambling continued all the way until we were inside my apartment. After unlocking the door I quickly turned, pulling him inside before closing the door and pressing him against it. “Is this okay” I mumbled quickly, as soon as he nodded I pressed my lips to his.

Spencer practically melted into me, dropping his bag to the ground to grab the side of my face. I could tell his hands were scared to move anywhere else, so I let my hands travel first, moving from his shoulders to behind his neck, softly tugging at the hair. In response he pressed his lips harder against mine, groaning into me as my fingers continued playing in the roots of his hair. I allowed my lips to travel down his jaw, causing Spencer to whimper and let his head fall back. My hands shifted from his hair, trailing to the buttons on his shirt. One by one the buttons were undone, leaving his shirt open, hanging on his shoulders.

Removing myself from his embrace I took his hand; leading him to my bedroom, taking a seat on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard. In times like this I envied Spencer for his eidetic memory. I want to remember the way he looks forever; hair messy, lips pink from the blood rushing to them, cheeks flushed, small pink marks decorating his jaw and neck. His shirt hung loosely around his defined shoulders, chest bared and aching to be marked, the only clothes that hid him from my gaze was his slacks, now strained tight against his crotch “Come here angel, sit in front of me.” I beckoned, patting the space between my legs. “Y-yes ma’am” His voice faltering, breath catching in his throat.

Now with his back against my chest, I softly pressed my lips to his ear “Show me how you touched yourself thinking of me” I mumbled, scattering kisses across his neck and shoulders. He obliged, moving his hand to grope himself. “Y-Y/N please” I could feel him panting, unintelligible pleading for me to put my hands on him. I gave him the relief he was seeking, sliding my hands down his chest, stopping on his lower abdomen, tracing little shapes onto the skin. His stomach clenched under my touch. “Go ahead sweetheart, touch yourself” I cooed.

Spencer’s hands shook as they reached for his belt, pulling it off, then moving on to the button, I decided to help him unbutton his pants and pull the slacks from his legs, pulling underwear down with them. My mouth watered looking over his shoulder, taking in the sight of him “Such a greedy boy” I cooed, letting my hands rest at his thighs while I spoke. “Keeping all this from me.” I could he his jagged breath, chest heaving as he gripped himself and processed my words.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am. I d-didn’t know would want me” Spencer whimpered, each word chipping a piece at my heart. I stroked his skin, moving one hand up to his chin, tilting his head slightly so I could press my lips to his, silently telling him that I wanted him just as bad as he wanted me. He chased my lips as I pulled away.

“So tell me.. Doctor, when you get off thinking of me, what do you think about” I let my fingers trace up and down his thighs; watching him stroke himself and let out the most pathetic, whiny moan I’ve heard in my life as his head fell back against my shoulder.

“I-I think about you, and h-how pretty you are. I think about your lips- Oh god- t-they’re so glossy and soft and I think about feeling t-them wrapped around me.” He whined. One of my hands moved to grab his wrist, leading his free hand to my mouth, taking two of his digits between my lips, sucking his fingers. His slow movements of pumping himself began to quicken, his breath stuttering. “F-fuck please Y/N p-please touch me. Oh my god”

—

I’m so excited for you guys to read the full story!!! I hope you liked the sneak peak and if there’s any other requests you have, feel free to dm me or inbox me so I can add them to my list of blurbs/one shots to write!!! xoxo. Follow for more cm/mgg smut/content ~ Mars aka perv hotch <33

[cici-writes]

“What Plot!?” - [Reid x Reader]

masterlist

Summary: Reader is a new member to the team who has developed a slight crush on one of her co-workers. She also has a proclivity for reading certain kinds of books. What happens when our favorite speed reader takes a peak over her shoulder? 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (no y/n used) 

Word Count: 4.5k

Category/Rating: Smut. Literally just smut. Explicit, 18+

Content Warning: Lord have mercy. Dom!Spencer, post prison Spencer, face sitting, dirty talk, unprotected sex, no y/n, spanking (kinda), BDSM discussions. I can’t think of anything else, but if I missed any, lemme know. 

A/n: Hello doves. Welcome to fic 2 of my birthday fic fest. I hope you love it. 🤍 (also: Thanks to Sam for reading the first bit and for helping me come up with a title.) 

– What Plot!? – 

“What are you reading?”

My spine stiffened, and I snapped my phone up until it was pressed against my chest. “…Nothing.” I felt my neck get hot at the words being said…or rather who was saying the words.

In the weeks since I’d joined the BAU, I very quickly developed a crush on the team’s resident genius. I had tried not to, I knew it was unprofessional to develop feelings for someone you work with, but it wasn’t even my fault. Fighting my feelings for Dr. Reid was like fighting gravity. Not only was he objectively gorgeous, but he was also otherworldly smart, unfailingly kind, and to my delight, he was a complete nerd.  

There was much more to him than that, but we weren’t close enough for me to pull back the veil. His smiles came easy, but I couldn’t help but notice the sadness lurking in his warm brown eyes. I knew his story from the other teammates, and he had only mentioned his time in prison in passing.

All of that combined is probably why I couldn’t bring myself to look up at Spencer, but I didn’t really have to; his tone made it plainly obvious he didn’t believe me. “So, you were staring at your phone…that had a page open…filled with nothing but words…but you weren’t reading.”

Keep reading

[cici-writes]

cold metal - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: i just really want spencer reid to find out his girlfriend has her nip nops pierced. like he would be so cute and blushy. and she’d be like “bubs theyre just my boobs” and he just does the grabby hands at her

Warnings: nipple piercings, implied smut Word Count: 1.1k (sorry, it’s so short!) A/N: ugh I want piercings so bad, but I’m such a coward haha. thanks for requesting! requests are open! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had never been so grateful for a team-building activity in his life.

It was mid-July and unexpectedly warm for Virginia - nearly 95 degrees Fahrenheit - and Spencer was behind you in the rented kayak. You brought up the rear of the squad, and while Team Jemily and Team Morcia had a competitive paddle, you two stayed behind and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Spencer had a book in his hand and was reading to you while you lazily moved the paddles so that you would eventually arrive at your destination.

Keep reading

[cici-writes]

Journey to Camelot

Request for the lovely @spencers-dria ♥︎ (thank you for this idea and for being the best beta reader!)

summary: When Penelope introduces Spencer to online games, he expects to be spending his nights alone. Yet, somehow every time he comes back from a bad case, he logs on to chat with the ever so lovely user FairlyGwen and getting a lot more than just a helpful tip from her.

warnings 18+: Smut, Porn With Plot, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Vibrators, Sexting, FaceTime Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, they're both switches

word count: 3.8k

read on AO3

a/n: if you're confused by the vibe she uses in this don't worry I added a photo link because I realized it's hard to picture lmao enjoy :)

Merlinus: hello, I’m about to start a late-night j2c quest are you up? Sent 12 minutes ago.

When Penelope introduced him to the world of online gaming, he really didn’t think he’d be rushing to get home every night and play with a random stranger. Logging onto his discord account to ask the kind woman, whom he’s grown quite fond of, if she’d want to play with him.

She almost always did.

It started out with him only logging on after a bad case, wanting to relieve some stress. It was better for his mental health if he could solve something. Completing a quest, saving a damsel from a dragon. That was always a given with Journey to Camelot.

He had an easier time socializing with people online. When they couldn’t see him, when he could be anyone he wanted to be, he was confident. Being the smartest one on a mission, having people begging to work with him, it was nice.

He had a few regulars that he played with: a guy from Kentucky, a girl in Australia, some 12-year-old in England who played with his mum. But his favourite was FairlyGwen.

She was incredible. She played as a mage, the perfect partner to his level 36 wizard. She was smart, solving every puzzle with efficiency and accuracy it was like she had already played every level a million times.

She was funny, always making him laugh, her wit being sharper than any sword she swung to keep him safe. They worked unbelievably well together.

After the game was done, they’d meet up in the local tavern. Other players in the open world would come in and out frequently, socializing and making plans about quests together, proximity chat being a blessing.

Sometimes she’d flirt with him, and he would have no problem flirting right back.

Ironically enough, Merlin and Gwen were married in the original King Arthur story, meaning she’d sometimes call him husband, sometimes she’d joke about cooking him a meal and treating him well. And he’d play along, thanking his wife for all the hard work she did around the house.

They would walk around the enchanted forest and just talk some nights, sharing secrets and insights about their real lives in code. Spencer didn’t want her to know who he was, seeing how much danger the internet can cause in someone’s life at his job, not needing them to become the next case.

He would explain his work like quests, unsubs were villains or evil trolls and all the vics were damsels in distress. And he always saved them, even if he didn’t she would re-write the ending, telling him he was the best hero in all of Camelot, that he was always going to be her hero, regardless of the outcome.

It was a friendship he grew very fond of, wishing more than anything that he could know her in real life.

FairlyGwen: hey !! I kinda got tipsy with some friends earlier, if you don’t mind me being a little weirder than normal I can be online in 5 ♥︎

Merlinus: wonderful, I’ll be waiting at our spot ♥︎

Their spot just so happened to be an abandoned cottage in the middle of the forest. It was a checkpoint not many people frequented, preferring the enchanted river for its healing powers.

His character ran through the fields, past the tavern full of other nerds, and towards his fictional house. They would pretend they owned it. He’d walk in when she was already online saying, “honey, I’m home,” purely to hear her sweet laugh.

He felt like a giddy school child, racing home to watch his favourite cartoon. In reality, he was a grown man sitting in a dark room, playing a video game in his boxers and a button-up shirt from earlier.

When he thought of her, he imagined her character. The 3D, pixilated woman with brown hair, a long green dress, and the funniest animated boobs he’s seen, better than Laura Croft’s 2005 triangle boobs on Derek’s PlayStation.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like her, crushing on the women who were kind to him, like a touch-starved, emotionally vulnerable nerd. He was so simple, more than 2 seconds of affection from a person and he was putty in their hands.

“My husband,” he heard her voice in his headphones as she arrived, her character appearing in the forest before him, waving slightly as they met. “How are you tonight, Merlin?”

“Fantastic now that I’m with you,” he flattered her. “What about you? I trust you had a lovely night with your friends?”

“I did,” her warm voice made a smile creep onto his face. “It was very loud and rowdy. I’m glad it’s just the two of us now. I’ve missed you.”

It warmed his heart to know she thought of him outside of this world, that she’d carry around his name in her mind while she lived her life. He wondered what that entailed, what thoughts arose, what things reminded her of him.

Almost everything he did made him think of her lately.

“I missed you too,” he said softly.

“Tell me how much?”

It’s not what he’s expecting. She normally holds off at least an hour before starting any sort of flirting, gradually building until one of them decides to leave, never staying to deal with the consequences of their actions.

“I messaged you before I was actually in my apartment,” he admitted. “That much.”

“Mhmm,” he could hear the smile grow on her face, knowing the way her emotions sounded after all this time alone together.

“What about you?”

She laughed slightly, “how much did I miss you? Well let’s see, I saw a tie at the store today that was blue with yellow stars, like a wizard hat and it made me think of you.”

“That’s nice,” he felt the affection getting into his bloodstream, spreading a blush across his face as he stared at the computer, imagining how she looked right now.

“Are you going to ask what I thought about?” She teases him.

“I want to, but I feel like we should do it in a secure chatroom,” he stressed. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on your fantasy.”

“What if that’s part of it?” Her voice dropped. “What if I thought about you tying my hands behind my back and fucking me against that tree over there, somewhere anyone could walk in on us?”

Need bubbling in his stomach, redirecting the blood from his flushed cheeks towards his groin, trying his best to breathe silently, not wanting her to hear him all but panting through the mic.

“I’m putting my number in the discord chat, if you really want to be a good wife you’ll call me,” he teased. Turning off his computer and retreating to his bed. Phone in hand, he dropped the number in the chat.

An unknown number called him within seconds. “Sir, that wasn’t very nice,” she replied softly.

“Technically I’m not a Sir yet, Lady Gwen,” he corrected her, laying back in bed with his phone pressed to his ear.

“I could change that,” she whispered. “Ask me how.”

The mood was shifting further than it ever had before, “Can we pause for just a sec?” He asked softly.

“Sure, what’s up, is this too much?” She worried like he did.

“No, not at all,” he assured her. “Are you okay going further than what we normally do? I don’t want to lose my quest partner for some simple orgasm, you’re too important to me.”

“Awe, you’re special to me too,” she said softly. “What’s your real name? Or do you want to still role-play?”

“Spencer, but we can role play if you want to?” He really, really wanted to.

“You bet I do, Spencer,” she teased him. “I’m Y/N, but Gwen, my lady, good girl, those are all fine too.”

His breath hitched at the last one, his dick fully straining against his boxers now. “O-okay,” he spat the word out. “resume. How could you do that?”

“Would you kneel for me?” Her voice was crisp as she whispered in his ear. He wished she was next to him doing all this whispering.

“Of course my lady.”

“I could knight you while you eat me out, how does that sound? Prove to me if you deserve it,” her sultry voice reaching into his gut and turning up the heat.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hips rolling forward into nothing. “I’m sure you taste so sweet, my good girl.”

“Shit,” she panted, “can I touch myself?”

“Maybe,” he teased her. “Tell me what else you think about me first. What other thoughts do you have about me in the middle of the day? What makes you so horny you have to press your thighs together and rub back and forth until the need dissipates?”

“Where do I begin?” She groaned, jokingly. “I think about your voice a lot. Oh and how fast you are able to cast a spell, knowing your fingers must move like magic.”

He palmed at his erection at the thought, knowing she was probably ghosting her fingers over herself as well. “Keep going.”

“And your wand,” she whispered, hearing the way her tongue moved with the words, imagining it on his skin. “I imagine you’re hung.”

“Like an innocent woman during the Salem witch trials,” he smiles at his own joke.

“Mm, sounds promising,” she teased. “Does your phone send and receive photos?”

“I think so?” He replied, nervous about what was going to happen.

“You should get this in a sec,” she said as his phone buzzed on his ear.

He put it on speaker, exiting the app to head to his messages. Opening the text from her number, his eyes widening as he saw her body for the first time.

She was sitting on a pillow, shirt pulled up so he could see her bra. Perfect skin on show, his eyes trailed over her. Noticing a scar on her hip, he wanted to trail his tongue over the stretch marks on her stomach, to kiss up to her breasts, he couldn’t stop looking.

“Are you alive?” She giggled.

“Not sure, is this heaven?” he asked as he started to unbutton his shirt fully, tossing it to the floor and looking at her once again, fixated on her beauty.

She laughed again, “so now you know I’m real. Can I get some proof that you’re not a 70-year-old man with a sexy voice?”

“What do you want to see,” he felt brave for once.

“Your hand,” she asked almost too quickly, “preferably wrapped around something long and thick?”

“Y-yeah,” he swallowed sharply, pulling himself out of his boxers and finding the best angle.

Sitting on his knees, holding himself at the base, thumb resting along the shaft, perfectly trimmed nails and nicely kept pubes all on display for her. He took the photo and sent it to her before he could think twice about it.

“Sweet Jesus,” she gasped. “You could snap my innocent neck with that alright.”

He laughed, deep and hearty at the dirtiest, yet funniest thing she had ever said to him. “I could never hurt you,” he replies. “Unless you asked nicely.”

“Mm, I’d let you destroy me, sir,” he could tell she was pleasuring herself now. Listening to the rules, only touching after she finished explaining what she thought about.

“You want me to pound that pretty little pussy of yours, hmm? Can’t stop looking at that photo, can you?” He had never talked to someone like this before, trying to not worry about it being too much.

Her small gasps and moans were enough to keep his anxiety at bay, “tell me what you’re doing?”

“Slipped my panties to the side, sir. I have an ache in my clit, if only you were here to kiss it better.”

He groaned, stroking himself finally. Trailing up and down his length at the idea of her sitting on his face. Holding her shirt up to play with her nipples as he ate her out.

“Do you think Gwen and Merlin were into any freaky shit?” She asked softly, managing to make him smile as he jerked off.

That had never happened before.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Merlin was actually gay so,” Spencer laughed at the awkwardness.

“I bet Gwen pegged him,” she kept making him laugh. “Her strap was named Excalibur.”

“Do you ever shut up? I’m trying to imagine fucking you,” the words left his mouth before he could register how mean it was.

“I’m sorry sir,” she smirked. “What are you imagining?”

“Your sweet pussy on my tongue, how you’d rock your hips against my face, beard burn between your thighs, you trying to push back at the overstimulation as I fuck you on my tongue,” he stroked himself along to the words that left his mouth.

She gasped. He could hear how wet she was as she moved her fingers faster. “I’d fuck you so deep with my tongue, and if you ask nicely, I’ll add a finger.”

“Please,” she gasped as the words left. “It’s yours, sir, take it all.”

He growled, not sure where it came from but willing to do it again for the shaky breath she let out. “Can you fuck yourself?”

“Green or purple?”

“Mmmm,” he knew what she was meaning. It made the ecstasy in his bloodstream ignite. “I love purple.”

“Hold on,” she said, tossing the phone into the sheets and getting off the bed. He heard a drawer open and close as she grabbed a toy.

“I like this one, good choice,” she said just loud enough for him to still hear her from wherever she was.

“Show it to me.”

“Fuck,” she gasps.

“You better not be starting,” his tone changes suddenly. Disappointed that she would start without him.

“No, no sir I just really like it when you get like this,” she corrected the situation, pleading for his forgiveness in her tone.

“Like what?”

“Assertive,” she whispered. “It’s really hot.”

“Alright, then send me the fucking picture I asked for,” he ordered, surprised he fell into the role so easily.

“Let me make it look good for you, sir,” her voice glided off her lips like butter, slipping into his mind and taking control.

He held her message thread open on his phone, waiting for her to send the photo, hearing her move and pose, holding her breath and deciding what was the best, all while giving him 0 clues to what she was doing.

When it shows up, his jaw drops, a moan slipping out as he sees all of her.

She’s sitting in front of a mirror, on her knees with a pillow between her legs, taking a mirror selfie with an interesting purple vibrator pressed between both her breasts, tongue against the tip as she stared at him through the mirror.

He whimpered, thumb making contact with his head as he stroked himself. “Good, sir?”

“Very good girl,” he awarded her. “Fuck yourself, god, please do it for me?”

He can hear her climbing back into her bed, settling into a position that he’d never know unless she told him. “Talk to me, tell me what you’re doing?”

“I’d rather if you told me what to do?”

He could imagine her doe eyes, looking at him through her lashes as she innocently asked him what to do. “Sit on my cock, I want to see how much you can take.”

“Yes sir,” she smiled as she flipped over. “Can you still hear me?”

“Fuck, yeah,” his hips twitched as he imagined her sitting on him, leaning down against his chest as she ground on him.

“Listen,” she whispered, pushing the dildo in slowly.

He closed his eyes as he listened, stilling his movements on his dick, the sound of tight wetness taking the thick silicone shaft. She went little by little, using her own wetness to coat it as it went in. He could hear each thrust as she did it, making his heart beat faster and faster in his chest.

“Christ,” he gasped, squeezing the base of his cock so he didn’t explode right then and there.

“Mmmm,” she bit her lip as she moaned. “Not nearly as big as you.”

He jumped back into the moment, reaching into his side table for some lube to fully imagine her, knowing she’d be the wettest, most perfect fuck in the world.

“Correct.”

“You have to tell me what you’re doing too,” she breathed out as she kept slowly fucking herself.

“Putting lube in my hand, wishing that was me making that delicious noise between your legs,” he matched her tone, the words more like a purr as he stroked himself once more.

“It can suck my clit, can I turn it on?” She asked softly.

“Ask again.”

“Please sir,” she gasped, “can I turn it on? Please, sir, I’ve been so good.”

“You can, middle setting.”

It wasn’t normal for him to be in a place of power. Sure, he probably could give orders like this and people would listen, it just didn’t feel right.

This, however, this was so right. He couldn’t believe it was happening while simultaneously never wanting it to end. The euphoric feeling of a beautiful woman wanting to fuck him, telling him, desperately, that she wanted to.

“Thank you, fu-hh,” she moaned as he heard pulsating noise, making a vibration on her clit to stimulate the feeling of someone sucking on it.

His phone buzzed against his chest, she was requesting to facetime him. He accepted, being greeted by her body in front of the camera.

She was rocking against her pillow slowly, holding both breasts as her phone rested against the headboard. He flipped the camera before she could see his face, they moaned in unison at the visuals.

“This is easier than giving you a play-by-play,” she laughed slightly, making her breasts jiggle as she rocked her hips.

His hips shook, a dribble of pre-cum leaking out and joining the wetness of the lube. She was gasping as she watched, placing her hands on the pillow and grinding the vibrator between herself and the pillow, her hair dropping into the frame and covering his view of her nipples.

He groaned, wishing she was sitting on him instead. He wanted her to suffocate him with her tits, pressing hickies into her skin, licking her nipples before sucking them into his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised her. “Ride me so good, baby. My fair Gwen.”

“Oh fuck, thank you. Thank you, Sir” she gasped, hips sputtering.

He felt everything tighten inside his stomach as she started to sputter, her words only coming out as gasps and syllables as she shook lightly. His movements on his hand fastened as he felt himself about to cum.

“Let go, my sweet Gwendolyn,” he cooed, watching her grind down hard as her orgasm rumbled through her. “Cum for me.”

She squeaked, trying to shout as her voice cut out, the air passing her vocal cords with a high pitch as she quaked.

A deep moan bubbling in his throat as the cum erupted from his cock and over his chest, splashing onto his skin as he gasped, watching her still and raise off her vibrator, tossing it to the side before dropping her body against the pillow, chest heaving.

“Thank you,” she tossed her hair out of her face, smiling at the camera.

All she could see was his cock in his hand, cum puddled around his stomach as he caught his breath. He flipped the camera, showing himself finally.

“Oh hello,” her jaw dropped, she pulled the phone closer as she sat up with a slight wince. “You’re so cute!”

He would blush if he wasn’t already bright red from the heavy breathing. “Thanks,” he laughed, fixing his hair from where it sat on his forehead. Sweaty, like he just did a workout.

He sat up, trying to look nicer for her. “You’re very beautiful as well, Y/N,” he said her real name for the first time.

“Oh, next time we’re using real names, I know that’ll sound nice when you cum,” she teased him with a wide smile.

“Next time?”

She nodded slightly, “If you want to? I’m in Ohio, so unless you are too, I’d love to do a long-distance, friends with benefits thing if you’re down?”

His feelings for her had grown in the last, however long, they were doing this for. He bit his lip as he thought about it, “Okay. Yeah, I’d really like to.”

“So Spencer,” she smiled again. “If I’m going to be screaming your name, shouldn’t I know some things about you?”

He reached to his side table for some tissues, “what do you want to know, Y/N?” cleaning the cum off his chest and tossing it towards the garbage can by his desk.

“Where are you from, what’s your horoscope, do you like cats, favourite movie, the best album you’ve heard, moon or the sun?” she spat out a bunch of questions you would see in a “getting to know your fuck buddy” Cosmo magazine article.

“Born in Vegas, live in Virginia, Scorpio, cats are nice,” he smiled softly. “I don’t really have a favourite movie, I like books, Cleopatra by the Lumineers is very good, and the moon. I’m a night owl, clearly.”

“Impressed that you remembered them all,” she laughed, walking around her room as she talked to him, no longer in the frame.

“I have an eidetic memory,” he admitted. “It’s mostly with things I’ve read, but because I just heard what you said it was easier.”

“Not fair,” she complained, leaning over the camera where it laid on her bed. Clothed again, her hair falling in front of her, “you’re going to be able to remember all of that and relive it and I won’t?”

“Did you really like it?” he’s not sure why he’s asking.

“Dude, nobody has made me cum that hard before,” she settled back into her bed, sitting crisscrossed as she held her phone.

She was so effortlessly beautiful, he was a bit shocked that he was really looking at her. “I um, I travel a lot for work.”

She smirked, “How often are you in Ohio?”

“Whenever there’s a serial killer,” he says softly. Watching her face scrunch as she understands the words.

“Wait, so you like actually hunt bad guys?”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’m an FBI agent.”

“Holy shit,” she smiled. “Okay well, who’s willing to get murdered so I can get some dick?”

He couldn’t stop laughing. She was so funny in the weirdest possible way. “I’ll text you if I’m ever in Ohio?” he offered as he calmed down.

“You better text me before then. Fair warning, I have an addictive personality,” she said softly. “Let me know if I get to be too much.”

“Same goes for me,” he replies with a pressed-lipped smile. “I’m not used to sex without feelings.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she smiled.

“I didn’t plan to.”