guess | spencer reid x reader
wc: 2.3k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk during sex), lingerie, munch!spencer, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
a/n: heavily inspired by guess by charli xcx ft. billie eilish, specifically billie's verse. yes the song dropped yesterday. yes i listened to the song once and decided to write a fic about it. i'm insane about s7/8 reid rn so :) (also posted on ao3!)
You swear you don’t mean to show off, but the miniskirt you’re in doesn’t help your case in the slightest.
Spencer had told you to join him at the bar for drinks with his coworkers, the bar just a couple blocks down from the club you were at with your friends. Your boyfriend had been away for most of this week and you really wanted to see him, so you don’t think twice about popping by to see Spencer. Besides, you hadn’t seen Penelope, JJ and Emily in a while either, and those girls treat you too kindly.
You realise how skimpily dressed you are when you walk into the bar, though, when you approach the very properly-dressed group of FBI agents at a booth in the corner. Your top is cropped and low-cut, revealing your cleavage, and you were wearing a little black miniskirt, the hem of which barely skirted the tops of your thighs.
Spencer has never commented on your fashion choices, often being the very satisfied recipient of your sometimes revealing outfits. But as you greet the BAU, his eyes are dark and hungry as they roam your figure. You smile at him with a whispered “Hi, baby,” before you kiss him chastely. The look on Spencer’s face is unreadable, other than the fact that you know he appreciates the view.
His gaze darts up at Derek from across the booth when he whistles at you.
“Looking good, mama.” Derek waggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a smack to the chest from Penelope and a hearty chuckle from Emily.
You lean over to hug JJ, Penelope and Emily in that order on the other side of the table, and you feel Spencer’s hand quickly snake across your waist, pulling you back to sit down. You glance over at him briefly, but he only keeps his gaze straight ahead.
“You are one lucky guy, Reid,” Emily laughs, and you feel Spencer’s arm curl around you tighter, pulling you in closer.
The rest of the night is pretty fun, cracking jokes and talking with Spencer’s team, but with the alcohol in your system from earlier, it only takes a few more drinks for you to get drunk. You’re extra giggly, half-sitting in Spencer’s lap, his hand not leaving your side. You feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, saying, “I think we’re going to head home first. This one here seems a little drunk already.”
“I’m not drunk,” you lilt, rolling your eyes. You lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder, blinking hard before you meet Penelope’s gaze. You hear Emily defending you about how you aren’t drunk, but Penelope smiles at you and says, “I think boy genius is right.”
You frown deeply, almost comically so. “Penny! You’re supposed to back me up here!”
Penelope laughs, always so kind to you. “Come on, honey. Let Reid take you home.”
You huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child. You don’t notice the way Spencer’s gaze darts down to your chest shamelessly. Derek whistles, and you assume Spencer must glare at him because Derek is raising his hands in surrender, telling Spencer he doesn’t mean anything. What were they even talking about? You don’t know, but Spencer is murmuring in your ear about getting a taxi home, and after you say goodbye to all of his friends, you’re letting him guide you out of the bar and into the cool night.
You shiver, the very little fabric you have on not doing you any favours when the temperature drops. Spencer is quick to shrug off his jacket and help you put it on. His jacket is long enough on you, considering Spencer’s height, to cover your skirt.
“I swear alcohol’s supposed to warm you up,” you grumble, holding your arms close to your chest as you try to stay warm. “I’m fucking freezing.”
“You feel warmer for a bit because the alcohol is a vasodilator – it causes the blood vessels under your skin to dilate, increasing blood flow, which makes you feel warmer. If you drink more, the higher levels of alcohol actually work to shrink your blood vessels instead and make you feel cold. Do you have a headache?”
You shake your head, but take the chance to snuggle up to Spencer now. “You feel nice and warm.”
“Good,” Spencer says, holding you close. In no time, he flags down a taxi, and you two pile in and drive towards his apartment.
Spencer’s hand is drawing circles into the side of your thigh, mindless, but the touch is incredibly distracting. You ask him softly, “You’ve been touching me all night, Spence. Something on your mind?”
“You,” he whispers back. “Can’t stop thinking about your underwear.”
You squeak at his brazenness, smacking his chest. “You– Spencer!”
“I got a good look when you were practically bent over the table just now,” Spencer continues, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Didn’t even give me a chance to guess.”
You gape at him like a fish, but Spencer smiles and murmurs in your ear, “You know how much I love when you wear that lacy black pair.”
You bite down on your lip, trying not to moan like a whore in the back of this taxi. You just look at him, silently wishing he’d do something. Spencer presses a kiss to your jaw, and you feel your cheeks heat.
Thankfully, the driver is quick to announce that you’re at your destination, and you and Spencer stumble out of the cab quicker than you’d like to admit. Spencer doesn’t even wait for his change before he slams the car door shut.
Spencer crowds you against the back of the elevator, an old, rickety thing with no camera, so you feel less bad when Spencer slips his hand under your skirt and past your panties, his finger sliding between your wet folds. “Spencer!”
“You’re so wet for me already,” Spencer groans, kissing down your neck desperately. His fingers are so tantalising, rubbing up against your clit, your hole. “You’re so sexy.”
“Spencer,” you whine. “Hurry up and fuck me.”
The elevator doors creak open on Spencer’s floor. “Let’s go, then.”
Spencer barely locks the door behind you before he’s kissing you, eager and sloppy and desperate. It’s so hot, his large hands on your waist pulling you closer to him, and you feel the growing problem in the front of his pants.
“Spencer,” you moan. You feel his hands push up your skirt, feel him wedge his leg between your thighs. You must be soaked through your underwear by now, and you shamelessly rut your hips forward to grind against his leg.
“You know I love your fashion sense, my love, but this is slutty even for you.” Spencer’s voice is dark when he says it, and you whimper. “You’re dressed like you want somebody else’s attention.”
Your eyes widen and you look up at him. “No!”
“Derek was eyeing you like a piece of meat earlier. Emily, too.” Spencer frowns.
“I only want you, baby,” you insist, holding onto Spencer’s arms. “Only want you to notice me.”
“I am the only one who knows the colour of your underwear,” Spencer hums, his fingers skirting the waistband of your panties. “And fuck, you look good in them.”
“Please, Spence,” you whine, your plea lilting off into a gasp as Spencer lifts you, getting you to wrap his legs around him. You’d seen how he looked when he was younger, so scrawny he looked like he’d get swept away if the wind blew too hard, but now, he’s got more meat on his bones. His body is a pleasure to look at, let alone feel under your hands, which you’re happy to do now.
You touch the firm lines of his body through his shirt, as Spencer carries you to his bedroom. You mumble, hands frisky, “You’re so hot.”
“Says you,” Spencer smiles. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
You grin as he lays you on his bed, gasping when he slides his palm over your wet cunt through your underwear. His thumb flicks over your clit through the lace, the material dulling the electrifying sensation. you whine, “Spencer, please.”
Spencer tsks, looking down at you. “Let me take my time with you, darling. You’ve been teasing me all evening.”
He presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, making you moan loudly. While he tends to tower over you in bed, you also deeply appreciate the view of him getting on his knees so he can make a home between your thighs. His hair is wild, unruly, and you run your hand through it, admiring it. Keeping your gaze, Spencer leans down to kiss your pussy.
You feel his warm breath on you, the scratch of his stubble on your skin, pinned down simply by his gaze as his tongue darts out to lick you over your underwear. You whimper, as Spencer wraps his arms around each of your thighs, using you as an anchor as he presses his face between your legs.
You sob, because what Spencer’s giving you just isn’t enough, not when you need to feel his tongue on your cunt. He thumbs at your hole through the fabric, dipping into your wetness in a cruel approximation of the pleasure he usually gives you.
“Fuck me,” you groan. “Take my panties off already.”
“Not yet,” Spencer hums. Instead, he pushes your panties to the side, lets his fingers slide over your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his rough, calloused fingers sliding over your wetness, and then you feel the warmth of his tongue.
The sounds his mouth makes as he eats you out are filthy, obscene. His tongue flicks over your cunt with a practised precision, familiar with what makes you tick, the wet, slick sounds too overwhelming. Your toes are curling with how good Spencer makes you feel – legs trembling, breathing heavy. You can’t stop the whimpers that leave your lips, almost helpless in the way you moan for him.
“Please,” your voice is shaky as you cry out for Spencer. “I need you so bad, baby."
Spencer hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine in your pleasure. “Okay, my darling.”
Finally, finally, he’s sitting up and pulling your panties down, your little skirt still pushed up to expose your cunt. You look up at him, silently wondering why he hasn’t taken it off. He plays with the soft fabric in his hands almost absentmindedly and says, “I think we should keep it on.”
You blink up at him, not coherent enough to say anything about it. Instead, you watch him take his shirt off – you whistle at the sight, while he just rolls his eyes. He unbuckles his belt and push his pants down, his cock bobbing up, hard and red and leaky. You bite your lip, thinking about how he’ll feel inside of you.
“Kiss me,” you whine, and Spencer smiles at you. He tastes of you when his lips press against yours, and he’s quick to deepen it, his tongue in your mouth, like he's close to devouring you whole.
While he kisses you hungrily, you feel his hand between your legs, moving to line himself up with your entrance. You moan as the blunt head of his cock presses up against your hole, the sensation you’ve been craving all evening. Cruelly, he rubs up against you just like that, sliding between your folds but not giving you the satisfaction you need. You’re close to biting his head off.
“Spencer–” you start, but Spencer decides to press his cock into you right at that moment, and you sob with the way his thick length splits you open. Every time he fucks you, you feel like he was made for you, filling you up in all the right ways, feeling so perfect on top of you, inside of you.
You meet his lips and kiss him lazily as he starts to thrust into you, at the perfect pace, just deep enough to hit all the right spots. It’s too good, Spencer knowing you and your pleasure like the back of his hand.
“Fuck,” Spencer groans against your mouth, finally showing some sign of his unravelling. “You’re so tight, darling.”
You gasp, groaning his name, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, feeling like you could fuse into one person with how much you’re clinging onto him. You press your forehead to his shoulder, moans punched out of you with every one of Spencer’s thrusts.
“Feels– Feels so good, Spence, love you,” you cry.
“I love you too,” Spencer groans, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “You’re so perfect, my love.”
You sob as your orgasm hits you, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You shake as you come, feeling so positively overwhelmed with the way Spencer fucks you, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. You can’t feel your legs as you come down from your high, head spinning with all the pleasure. “Spence…”
“I’m– Fuck–” Spencer’s tripping over his own words as he comes right alongside you, your clenched pussy sending him over the edge too. He blows his load deep inside you, sticky and hot and so satisfying. You can feel how hard he’s breathing as your mind clears, his arms trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t end up collapsing onto you.
“You’re perfect,” you hum in Spencer’s ear, soft and gentle as you kiss the side of his head. You pull him in close, letting him rest his weight onto you, and your hand goes to stroke his hair softly. “So good. I love you.”
“Thank you. I love you more,” Spencer groans, his voice a little raspy already. “I’m sorry if I was too possessive over you in front of my friends tonight."
“All is forgiven, especially since you were sexy as fuck,” you grin up at him. “You’re always sexy.”
“Says the girl in a miniskirt and black lace panties.” Spencer smiles.
“All the more I know what I’m talking about, then,” you giggle, before kissing him slow.
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