#mgg x oc

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[piqtescue]

this photo is rewiring my brain

[444rockstargf]

"riding the ride." | spencer reid

get free. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: it was a win-win for you. you could finally shut spencer up, and managed to get a good orgasm too.

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.6k

contents: cunnilingus, cum-eating, snowballing (inverted), not proofread

date night. the one night a week where neither of you were working late and finally had the chance unfold in each other’s arms.

as cool breeze blew through the living room window as you flipped through tv channels, spencer’s arm wrapped around your torso as you rested your head on his chest. “what do you feel like watching tonight?” you asked, his thumbs rubbing slow circles onto your flesh. “i don’t mind, baby. i’m not picky.” you nodded, clicking the down button on the remote and landing on a reality show.

spencer hissed and you looked back at him. “what’s the matter?” you asked. “i don’t mind it, but i’m just worried about you. you know i found a really intresting article about reality tv. statistics show that around 47% of people use them as guilty pleasures and 92% of that is the female population who admit that they feel pressure to conform to the unrealistic beauty and relationship standards portrayed in the shows. besides, everything is one-hundred percent staged anyway.”

with each word he spoke, you felt braincells getting killed off in your brain. you nodded, consdiering what he said. “alright then. no reality tv, got it.” you scrolled further down the tv guide, landing on a horror film this time. but he spoke again. “are you sure you wanna choose that, babe? horror movies have been proven to desensitize viewers to violence, major disturbances and other dangers, which may all end up messing up your perception of risks.”

you felt your eye twitching as he droned on. you decided to find something that he couldn’t nitpick and analyze. you click on a weather forecast. boring, monotonous, but no dangers in sight. or so you thought. “did you know tha-” you rolled your eyes, snapping at last. “god, don’t you ever get tired of working that mouth of yours?” 

you squirmed at how provocative the statement came out. surprised at your outburst, spencer smiled proudly. “i have yet to, darling.” his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you in even closer to him. you rose an eyebrow, eyes narrowing at him ever so slightly. “is that a challenge, spence?” he caught a glimpse of the cheeky grin on your face in the corner of his eye. 

as the weather man blabbed on in the background, your face lit up as an idea popped into your head. you clicked the off button on the remote, making the tv screen turn black. you crawled so that you were fully sat on his lap, your hands starting to play with his hair as you whispered in his ear. “i’ve got a better idea for date night…”

spencer reid, the human computer who could sense even the slightest change in atmopshere seemed to be having a malfunction as you gently pressed his face into your chest. his breath heat up, the warmth seeping throug the thin fabric of your tank top. you moved your hips against his lap, taking the air from his lungs. “how about i put that tongue of yours to good use..?”

it was at this moment that he knew he was powerless. his hands were at your waist, clinging to them like he was afraid to let you go. his eyes trailed down to where your two body connected, taking in the sight of your legs in those little pajama shorts. he brought his hand down and began twirling the drawstring between his fingers, gazing up at you with those deep brown eyes. he tugged at the waistband, silently begging for the shorts to come off. you grinned, seeing that he was finally lost for words. “use your words, spence…” you never thought you’d have to tell spencer to speak, but here you were, watching as he struggled to formulate basic english.

he pressed his chin into your soft chest, muttering under his breath. “can you take ‘em off, hon..?” his biceps flxed slightly under his t-shirts as his grip tightened. you dug your thumbs under the waistband of your shorts, giving him a teasing glance of your bare hips and listening to his breath hitch.

you grinned as his eyes widened like saucers at the sight of your panties. “why don’t you lie down for me, spence.” he nodded, following your command in an instant like an obedient puppy. you stood up from the couch, his eyes glued to your body as you finally took off your shorts, letting them fall to the ground before kicking them off your feet.

the tension in the room grew thick enough to cut through as you lowered yourself onto his chest, not wanting to move too fast. spencer was panting like a dog, eyes triling down to where you cunt with covered by that pesky little strip of fabric. he longed to tear it with his teeth, to finally have access to the honey between your legs.

you slowly rose up once again, crawling slowly until you were hovering over his face. spencer’s mouth watered at the area of saturated fabric that was the perfect telltale of your arousal. your hips swayed slightly, hypnotizing him and making that familiar sizzle burn in this grey sweatpants.

a taste of heaven was just a touch away, and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait. you took a deep breath. “a-alright, just lemme know when you’re rea-” he couldn’t bear the torture any longer. he grabbed your ass, tearing off your panties and connecting his lips with your dripping cunt. 

completely taken by surprise, you yelped, gripping the couch cushion as your whole body tensed. he was going at it like a starved dog, his tongue greedily lapping up all your juuices as he tossed the leftover fabric of your panties to the side, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass as he flicked his tongue over your puffy clit.

he groaned deeply as he finally tasted you, desperate to have you. his pulsating cock twitched in his pants, begging to be let free. he bucked his hips into the air, moving against anything he could. “you taste so good, baby…” he muttered into your pussy, moving a hand down to rub quiet circles on your clit.

you tossed your head back in pleasure, grinding against his face as he found the perfect rhythm between his tongue and his fingers. he jutted his tongue in and out of your hole, hasilty bringing a hand down to his sweatpants and needily palming himself through the plush fabric. the contact made his vision go starry, the abundance of pleasure doing wonderful things to his head.

he snaked his hand into his pants, whipping out his precum-glazed cock. the tip was red and swollen from being neglected for so long. he gave himself a few lazy strokes, more focused on your right then than anything else. 

his tongue ventured deep inside of your hole, desperate to taste every fold and crevice. you were sure that he wasn’t even breathing at this point. he was completely drunk off the taste of your body. he pumped his cock at a more rapid pace, feeding his moans into your core and sending powerful vibrations through you.

the base of his hand slapped against his balls each time he went back down, his thumb ghosting against his tip when he came back up again. the living room filled with the succulent noises of him devouring you like your were his last meal.

your back arched as he suckled your hard pearl between his lips. you attempted to rise up from his face to let him have a breath of air, but he gripped you even tighter. “c’mon baby, i’m not done yet…” he had your cum pouring down his neck, grool bubbling from his lips and nostrils. he was making an absolute mess of you, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

his hips violently thrusted into his fist as the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueled his desire even more. he growled into you, eating you up like a starved predator who had finally caught its prey. your legs clenched aorund his head, nearly suffocating him. you rode his face rapidly, tits bouncing through your tank top.

the sight from above made him run wild. he moved his hand from your hip, sneaking it under your shirt and starting to knead your breasts, toying with your hard nipples.

you were so close to reaching such a satisfying climax. every nerve in your body was responding to his intimate touch, never wanting him to stop. your hands grabbed his hair as the band in your stomach snapped, utnring you into a screamed mess as thick white liquid cascaded out of your pussy.

he hungrily lapped up every last drop, not wanting to let a single drop go to waste. his cock had ejaculated hot strings of cum so far that they had hit your back, painting you like a piece of art. he took his time finished you off like the last scoop of a sweet dessert before finally letting you off his face. as you got back to your feet, he sat up and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, feeding your cum into your mouth and groaning softly. “...see how good you taste, my love..?”

your lips began to swell at how deeply he took you in, the heat in your body reaching an all time high. after several long minutes, he pulled away from you, a string of saliva connecting you two before breaking. he looked down, seeing the cummy mess on his t-shirt. but it was nothing compared to what streamed down his neck. you giggled softly, patting him on the cheek. “such a messy boy…”

he stood up from the couch, picking up your shorts for you. “how about we take this date night to the shower? would you like that, baby?” you smiled, nodding as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. he walked away with you, a smle on his face and a sticky mess flowing down your inner thighs.

author's note: thank you everyone for 1,000 followers! never thought i'd live to see the daythat i reach my longest goaal

[spencerslover-blog]

But while in this world i think I'll take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three, baby, you're too sweet for me.

[smurphyse]

Drunk on You

Smurph's Masterlist

Warnings: first times, creampies, multiple orgasms

Summary: Spencer's nervous about never having had sex, but he wants to lose his virginity to you

"I don't want to lie to you, sweetheart," Spencer told you, "I've never… I've never done this before."

You were straddling him on your couch, your fingers tangled in his hair and your chest blotched with heat and desire as you watched him through your lashes. He was so stupidly pretty, pink coating his cheeks and his lips parted, lined with his saliva and yours. 

Sweetheart. It made your heart squeeze inside your ribcage as the fluttering turned to a tight coiled affection for the man in front of you. Parts of you swelled in anticipation just from making out with him and grinding down on his lap. 

He had no idea what he was doing to you. 

"Done what, baby?" you asked lightly, and when you brushed some of his hair behind his ear he whimpered quietly and leaned into your touch. 

His eyes clamped shut as embarrassment ran through him, and he sighed before he squeezed them tighter still. 

"Sex," he muttered, "I've never had sex before."

"That's okay, Spencer," you soothed, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone and reveling in the way he relaxed. "We don't have to have sex if you're not ready, or ever if you don't want to."

"No!" Spencer said quickly, clutching your waist tighter as if to keep you in place. His sweet eyes went wide and desperate, "I want to. I really want to… I just, I guess…"

You angled him to look up at you and bumped your nose with his, "What? Tell me."

He pouted, his puffy bottom lip sticking out as a heartbreaking shame clouded his gaze, "I don't want to disappoint you."

You chuckled quietly and rested your forehead against his. He smelled of cinnamon and musk, and the sweat on his brow spread against the bridge of your nose. 

"You could never. We can take it slow. It doesn't have to be tonight."

Spencer shifted underneath you, his hard length pressing up against your core, whimpering lightly as he did. You could feel him throbbing beneath you, and you knew he wanted this more than he could really say, so you pulled yourself from his lap and stood. 

He whined, his hands reaching out to pull you back to him, so you simply laced your fingers with his and tugged him to his feet. Leading him into the bedroom, you smiled to yourself. 

When you turned to face him moonlight poured through the windows, washing him in pale gray. He was so beautiful like that, watching you nervously in the darkness, his cheeks highlighted by it and his blush. You pushed back his mussed hair with your fingers, letting them graze over his forehead and along his scalp. 

Pushing up onto your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his, and he melted right back into you. A soft moan escaped his chest, guttural and relieved as his hands smoothed over your waist. One palm slid under your shirt and pressed against your spine to hold you close, his belt buckle cool as it brushed against your lower belly. 

You let your hands trail down his neck and over his chest, tugging on his tie as your tongue slipped between his lips. He gasped as yours slid against his, his hips bucking forward and his arms tightening around you. Tossing the tie to the ground, you slowly went to work on his buttons and tugged the shirt from his pants.

Spencer’s fingers dug into your skin, his kisses insistent and full of such sweet longing your head swam. This man was so wonderful, so kind and soft, and he had no idea how happy you were to have found him. After ten minutes alone with him you’d wanted to jump his bones… after three dates and countless minutes on the phone outside of them, you wanted to tear him down and make him fall apart.

Your hands pulled from his shirt to grab the hem of your own and tug it off over your head. When you went to kiss him again, his eyes were no longer closed in enjoyment, but staring slack jawed at your exposed breasts. You hadn’t worn a bra, as your date tonight had been a little impromptu.

Spencer had showed up at your place with a handful of flowers and a sheepish grin, leaning against the door frame as you opened it and rubbing his free hand across the back of his neck. 

Feel like a movie night? He’d asked.

Lucky for you, I just bought some popcorn, you’d replied.

He’d spent most of the movie with you lounging in the crook of his arm, one hand on the armrest while the other rubbed his knuckles up and down your side. You couldn’t handle it anymore, and you’d turned to face him. The second his eyes met yours, you dove in for a kiss that led to here, this moment.

You could tell by the way his teeth were abusing his bottom lip that he wanted to touch you, but didn’t quite seem to know how to ask, so you took him by the wrists. His palms were hot as they cupped your breasts, his thumbs seemingly instinctually brushing over your nipples and making you breathe out a sigh of pained relief at his touch. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he marveled, rolling the little buds over and working you over without seeming to realize it. Spencer leaned in and kissed your neck, making you shudder, “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.”

You were still holding his wrists, needing to ground yourself to stop from simply floating away under his words and his heat. You squeezed him and kissed his shoulder as he placed a trail of kisses down your neck. 

When it came to having sex, Spencer Reid might be a novice, but when it came to kissing… he was magic. 

"Do you want to do this?" you whispered, and he pulled himself up to look at you. "Tonight, I mean. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

Spencer nodded, so you reached out and grabbed his jaw. His hips bucked forward from your tight grip, and you gave him a serious eye and said, "Yes or no, Spencer. I don't want to take your virginity unless you explicitly say you want me to."

Spencer licked his lips and grinned, "I want you to take my virginity, sweetheart. Please."

You softly kissed him through your smile, and when you pulled away to go to the bed he followed closely behind. You pushed at his button up and slipped it from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor, revealing his soft fuzzy chest. 

You couldn't help but run your fingers through his chest hair, leaning in and pressing a firm kiss to his collarbone. Your teeth grazed his skin, a whimper rocketing from his chest as you moved on to his belt buckle. 

Pushing his pants down just enough that his cock sprang free, you cupped his jaw and licked a stripe up the other side of his neck. When he shuddered breathily, your pussy clenched around nothing in excitement. 

He was rock hard under your touch, wrapping your palm around his length and giving him an experimental pump. His hips rocked forward, moaning as he did so, making a tingling electric wave pulse through you. 

Spencer couldn't seem to help himself, and he shoved his pants the rest of the way down and pushed you down onto the bed. He kicked them off and quickly mounted you, pressing his lips to yours and grinding into your hand. 

Beads of precum smeared across your palm as he rutted into you, lips dragging down your cheek and jaw until Spencer latched onto your neck. Your head went fuzzy when his hot tongue laved across your shoulder, leaving a cooling trail of saliva that made you shiver. He panted in your ear, and when you twisted your wrist and spread his slick over his length he whimpered pathetically. 

His hips rolled on instinct, far smoother than you'd expected even in his desperation. His fuzzy chest dragged against your breasts, igniting heat through your nipples and sending a shock straight to your core. 

"Feels so good," he whined, his throbbing cock pulsating in your hand. "So good, better than I dreamed it would be."

You smirked and turned your head to whisper hotly in his ear, "Wait til you feel my pussy, Spencer. I'm so wet, just for you."

Spencer let out a shaky groan and dropped his head into your shoulder, his thrusts speeding up in your hand. You didn't want him to cum too soon and ruin your fun, so you pulled your hand away. 

"No…" he whimpered, body going lax as he collapsed against you in pained exasperation. "Don't stop, sweetheart, please."

You chuckled as you shoved at his shoulders to turn him on his back, and after a moment he did what you wanted. His chest patched red and his lips were swollen as he panted, watching you with that sweet gaze of his. 

You shucked your leggings and underwear, tossing them off the bed before you straddled his hips. When your soaked pussylips rested on his cock, Spencer sucked in a wavering breath, his hands clamping down over your hips in a deathgrip that would surely bruise. 

His biceps trembled as you settled on top of him, grinding back enough to stimulate yourself. You rolled your neck and closed your eyes, sighing contentedly.

"Do you feel how wet I am for you, baby?" you asked quietly. 

Spencer nearly bit through his bottom lip as he nodded. His eyes clouded with lust, excitement and nerves, and he was so pretty you threatened to burst. You smoothed soothing palms over his chest as you lowered yourself down to kiss him. 

Spencer cupped your jaw with one hand, the other clutching your hip as your lips pressed together. He moaned in your mouth, and when you rolled your hips to glide over his throbbing length, he let out a surprised gasp. 

His cock slipped through your folds, drenched between your lips and jerking with every slide. His warmth and the dripping beads of precum left you clenching around nothing, his tip brushing your clit as you ground down on him. 

"Fuck, baby," you moaned, your lips dragging against him as your hips began to twitch. "Want you inside me, Spencer, I need you so much…"

The fuzzy haze of lust filled the room with every groan that echoed between you, and soon enough you had to brace a hand on his chest as your orgasm overtook you. Spencer stiffened as you came over his cock, unsure and surprised, but when your juices soaked and pooled over him he pulled you against his chest and bucked up into you. 

Your thighs trembled around him as you came down, and suddenly you were flipped on your back, Spencer looming above to gaze wondrously into your misty eyes. 

"Did you just cum?" he asked quietly. "Did I make you cum?"

You nodded and let out a shaky breath, "Of course you did."

"Mmm," Spencer groaned. His arms visibly quaked as he shuddered, resting his head between your breasts. He cupped them so they pressed against his cheeks, kissing your skin and whimpering, "Can… can I do it again?"

You chuckled and reached between you to palm his wet cock, pumping him lightly and a thrilling shock going through you when he thrust into your hand. You guided his tip to your swollen lips and patted his hair, "Make me cum again, Spencer, please."

Spencer looked up at you, full of reverence and worship. He was nervous, you could tell, but excited. He kissed your sternum again before sitting up on his knees and gripping the base of his dick. 

Clinging tightly to your hip with his other hand, Spencer brushed the tip of his cock against your pussylips, teeth clamped so tightly on his bottom lip it turned white. You lounged on the bed and watched as he toyed with your opening, mesmerized at the sight of his member pressed up against your cunt. 

"Spencer," you whined, arching your back and pushing your breasts together to entice him. When his gaze met yours, his eyes were wide, cheeks patched pink and nervous as you played with your own nipples. 

"I need you, baby," you told him gently, not wanting to push him but horny beyond belief. You wanted to take this boy's virginity and ruin him for anyone else… and you wanted it now.

Spencer nodded, then looked back between your spread legs. He gave your pussy an experimental slap with his cock, making you grunt in surprise and whimper. Your thumbs tweaked your tits harder, legs spreading further just for him. 

Oh, he had no idea what he did to you. 

He did it again, making your hips jump as a shock of pleasure rocketed through you. Spencer watched you intently as he slid his blunt head between your lips and pressed against your entrance. 

He licked his lips and watched as he penetrated you, pumping achingly slow. His head was hot, blazing and thick as he breached your unstretched hole. You hadn't wanted that much prep, instead wanted to feel him for what he was and impale yourself on his cock. 

When the tip was all the way in, Spencer shuddered and bit the back of his knuckle. His arm shook where he held himself up on your hip, his eyelids hooded as he nearly drooled at the sight of his dick inside you. 

You couldn't help yourself, rocking your hips forward to take more of him, and Spencer's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. 

"You're so warm," he whimpered, letting out a shaky breath to stabilize himself. He reached down and brushed your exposed clit with his thumb, and when you whimpered and clenched around him his hips bucked forward. 

Spencer pumped his cock with your body, using you as he was focused singularly on the sight of it disappearing inside your hole. He absentmindedly played with your clit, rubbing it in sweet smooth circles coated with your slick. When he sheathed fully inside, his arms buckled and he collapsed onto your chest. 

"So wet, fuck," he gasped between your breasts, replacing your hands with his and pressing his lips to your sternum. "So tight, and hot…"

You smirked even though your body trembled around him. His cock was hot and heavy inside you, stretching your small hole open and leaving you fluttering around his length. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you asked in a devilish voice, "You like the way my pussy feels, baby?"

"Oh God, yes," he whined, rutting into your cervix, but he still didn't pull out. Spencer's lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud and making you moan. 

"Spencer, you have to move," you groaned desperately, clinging to his hair for dear life and trying to rock down on him, but his body held you in place. "I need you to fuck me!"

Spencer suckled on your tit instead, grinding his cock into you and moaning wantonly. His fingers tweaked the other one, rolling and squeezing your nipple and making you see stars. It shocked you, how close you already were and this boy hadn't even fucked you yet. 

And then his hips began to move, slow and shuddering as he drooled around you. Spencer pulled from your tit with a wet pop and shoved his face in your neck, burying himself to the hilt in your cunt and making his balls slap against your cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your feet around him to keep him near. 

"I've thought about this for so long," he muttered longingly against your shoulder. He was so sweet, and you held him tightly to your chest and kissed the top of his head. 

"Better than you imagined?" you asked softly, and he nodded quickly. 

"You're perfect, so fucking perfect sweetheart," Spencer groaned. He pulled out shakily and thrust back in, making you both moan and shudder. "You're all I've ever wanted…"

His admission shocked you, but as he started to thrust repeatedly, gliding through you and your wet pussy, you closed your eyes and let it overtake you. 

Spencer's hips slapped against yours, picking up his pace until he was pounding you into the mattress, moaning into your skin and clinging to you like you were the only thing tethering him to the world. 

"Such good pussy," he whimpered, making your body jiggle and shake. 

The slick sounds of your cunt squelching and clamping down around him filled the room, your cries and moans echoing between your bodies. When you dug your nails into his back, Spencer grunted and thrust so hard into you you could have blacked out. 

"Oh, Spencer," you whined, shaking around his cock, your pussy weeping. You could feel your second orgasm coming, and you wanted him to know just who gave it to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby!" you cried out, scratching his soft skin and dragging down as he pummeled your cunt with his dick. "Jesus, don't stop, I need this cock! Don't ever stop, please!"

Spencer rolled his hips sharply, and stars exploded across your vision. It hit you in a glowing wave, fire bursting through your veins as your walls clamped down around him. You vaguely registered his own moans as you squirted all over his length, soaking him in your slick. 

You went limp beneath him, and Spencer was suddenly kissing your face all over, pressing his lips to your skin and dragging them along to his next target for his affections. 

"Thank you, thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, but it was quick, desperate even though his hips had slowed. "That was beautiful, you're so fucking perfect."

He glided through you like you were made for his cock. You were held open by his thick throbbing length, your walls molded to his shape. Spencer kissed you on the lips even though your fuzzy brain could hardly do it back. 

"I want you to cum again," he begged, slotting his lips against yours and slipping his tongue between your teeth. He licked the backs of them, groaning into your mouth and fucking you steadily. "I wanna feel that cunt around my dick, sweetheart. Cum again, please!"

"Anything, anything for you," you gasped, nodding frantically. 

You couldn't seem to help yourself, only wanting to give him exactly what he needed, what he wanted, for his first time. You played with your clit, rubbing it furiously as he watched, drunk on your pussy and the sight of you coming undone from him and his touch. 

The coil tightened again, quick and near painful as he thrust into you, leaning back on his knees and holding your hips. Every jiggle of your breasts, your tummy, your thighs, he saw it all and watched in pure bliss. Your fingers swirled your bundle of nerves, sending shocks up your spine and igniting you. 

"C'mon, sweetheart, let me feel you," Spencer asked sweetly again, but it was a demand, an order, and you had to oblige. 

Spencer's brows furrowed together as you began to spasm, your pussy clamping down on his gorgeous cock. Heat rushed over your face and plumed over your chest as Spencer fucked you. 

Without warning, just as everything was about to go blank, Spencer's hands were underneath your knees, pushing your thighs to your chest and opening you up further for him. He flung your legs over his shoulders and leaned over you, plunging deep inside and filling you perfectly and overwhelming. 

"Oh my God!" you cried at the new position. His balls slapped your ass with each sharp thrust accentuated by a primal grunt, and with no ability to stop it, the coil snapped once more.

You creamed all over his cock, squirting your cum and drenching you both. Your back arched violently as you screamed his name, fisting the sheets and turning into a useless ragged doll for him. 

"Fuck, fuck," Spencer panted, using your hips to pull you up as he pounded down into you. 

The sick wet sounds of your cunt sucking in his dick left you shaking, and Spencer's babbling above you was almost too much. 

"I need to… oh god, I'm gonna-," he grunted, his thrusts turning sloppy and uncoordinated. "I need to cum, I gotta cum, can I please cum inside?" 

You were about to tell him, of course, but his desperate whining overtook him, "I wanna cum inside, can I? Can I fill you up, sweetheart? Let me fill your pussy with my cum, please!"

You bit your lip, watching him with watery eyes as he shuddered, bouncing his cock on your cervix and begging for release. You grabbed the back of your knees and spread yourself open, putting yourself on display and squeezing him with your walls. 

"Cum inside me, Spencer," you told him, writhing and wriggling down in time with his thrusts, matching him each time. "Pump me full of cum, please, I want it!"

That seemed to be enough for him, and he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and rutting into you like a dog in heat. You wrapped your legs around him, fucking back and gripping his hair like the lifeline it was. 

"So good, so tight," Spencer whimpered against you. "Wanna stay here forever, fuck!"

Spencer came with a guttural groan, spurts of his seed filling you as he buried himself deep inside. You milked his cock for all it was worth, your shaky weak orgasm making you shudder. His cum was hot, blazing as it pumped into you in waves, your body opening up to take it all. 

His thrusts eased after a few moments, his bigger frame relaxing in exhaustion on top of you. You both panted, lying sticky with cum and sweat in the sliver of moonlight that poured through the window. 

"Good lord," you sighed, loosening your grip on his locks to pet him appreciatively. 

Spencer moaned happily, molding his body to yours, limp and used. He stayed there like that for a few moments as you breathed one another in and came down from your highs. 

Cautiously, Spencer got to his elbows, and caught your eye. His gaze was watery, red rimmed and nervous. You reached out to cup his jaw as he licked his lips before asking in the smallest voice, “Did you… did you like it?”

“Oh, Spencer,” you breathed, so happy and content you could never explain it. “It was beautiful. You’re amazing.”

“Really?” he pressed, his sweet face scrunching up anxiously. 

You got up enough to kiss him, softly pressing your lips to his and pouring a piece of yourself down his throat. He let out a little groan as he shifted, his soft cock slipping from your sore and aching sex to move and kiss you harder. 

“Ten outta ten, would come again…” you chuckled, holding him close, “and again, and again, and again.”

It took him a moment to get the joke, but when he did he broke out in a grin and blushed furiously. He bit down on his bottom lip to try to stop it but failed miserably, “That’s uh… good to know.”

“What about you?” you asked cheekily, “Was your first time what you expected?”

“No,” he said, and your heart sank in your chest. Spencer kissed you to wipe away the disappointment, grabbing your hand and pulling in between your shaking and sweat-cooled bodies with a grin.

You gasped in surprise at the firming of his dick under your hand, and you looked at him with wide eyes, “You just came, Spencer!”

“Ten outta ten, would come again…” he laughed, making your heart swell and your tired cunt clench in excitement. “Besides, practice makes perfect.”

“Oh, well,” you sputtered, surprised at how quickly he could turn the tables on you. “I guess we better get to it.”

Spencer pressed his lips to your neck and chuckled darkly, “And again, and again, and again.”

CM Forever Tag:

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey 

[wrenreid]

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined-----------------------

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11

MDNI-----------------------------------------------------------------

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid

summary: in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest, youngest member

warnings: wet dream between 2 men, evelyn needs to be spayed or smth, fainting, creepy men

A/N: hiiiii gorgeous, lovely, beautiful human beings thank you so much for the support on this fic, I LOVE YOU ALL!!!! <3 let me know if you want to be adding to the tag list

ALSOOOOOO my requests are open for aaron hotchner and spencer reid!!! I would love to write some drabbles/one shots so shoot me a message! <3

HAPPY READING!

Chapter Ten:

Gasping for air, Evelyn emerged from the depths of her dream, the vividness of it lingering like a second reality. She swiftly pressed her back against the headboard, her fingers weaving through her sweat-soaked hair. The dream's details were smeared in her memory, but the visceral ache it left behind was crystal clear. Hotch and Spencer--their hands that were insistent upon her, their mouths that explored every inch of her. She scolded herself for the image--what is wrong with her? She felt like a pervert, imagining both men in such a way.

Her legs brushed against the fabric of the sheets, her actions freezing as she became aware of the dampness enveloping between her legs. Her mind turned to Spencer--his hair a soft curtain on her skin. His hands, always in motion, leaving no fragment of her unexplored. His mouth, the way his tongue felt inside her.

Evelyn's fingers instinctively started to play with the waist band of her pajama shorts, moving closer to the swollen bundle of nerves. Her thoughts drifted to Hotch--his shoulders and build, how easy it would be for him to overpower her, and she secretly wished he would. This was crazy, she thought. Despite her mind's protests, her fingers continue to wander, tracing gentle circle against her clit. 

She let out a puff of air, her back arching slightly off the mattress as light began to seep into the room. She thought of Hotch positioned behind her, showing her no mercy, finally pounding her attitude out of her. She pictured Spencer before her, his cock working its way into her mouth. Her fingers pushed into her gently, her gasps coming out short and desperate as she pictured her own fingers being replaced by Hotch's.

The imagine coaxed a moan from her, a sound that seemed too loud in her own ears. The knock at the door was abrupt, freezing her in place, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Evelyn's heart hammered against her ribs, panic seizing her as she scrambled out of bed. Her feet barely touched the carpet as she rushed to the door, flinging it open with a force that echoed through the silent hallway.

Hotch, a study in precision, stood there--impeccable in a charcoal-gray suit that made her want to drool. And his tie, a navy silk affair that lay flat against the white shirt, hinted at meticulous order. But it was his face that betrayed him--a subtle furrow of his brow, the pinch of annoyance around his mouth that suggested he'd been waiting longer than he card to admit.

Evelyn's heart did a clumsy somersault, her cheeks betraying her, turning a shade that rivaled a traffic light. One-half of her fantasy--or rather, the less enthusiastic version--stood there. "Hotch," she managed, "what are you doing here? And, um, what time is it?"

Evelyn's heart-shaped pajamas clung to her, the soft fabric revealing more than it concealed. Her cheeks flushed with urgency, mirrored to disarray of her hair. The hallway light caught the faint smattering of freckles across her nose, delicate constellations that bloomed when she eschewed makeup. 

Hotch's annoyance ebbed, replaced by a reluctant fondness. What had she been doing? Hotch's gaze lingered on her--no makeup, no artifice--just raw, unfiltered beauty. He was unsettled by how much the sight affected him. The flush in her cheeks, the softness in her eyes. 

Hotch willed his demeanor to snap back into place, his voice clipped. "Evelyn," he said, each syllable a warning. "I've called you five times. We need to be downstairs in 15 minutes."

Her pulse raced, and her tongue tripped over her words. "Oh, shoot, sorry," she blurted out, her voice echoing in the narrow hallway. The disheveled room behind her seemed to mock her--sheets tangled, alarm clock blinking accusatorily. "My alarm must've never gone off." She gestured toward the half-open door. "Do you want to come in and wait? I promise I'll be super speedy."

Evelyn's cheeks were ablaze, a canvas of mortification. She could feel Hotch's scrutiny lingering, a laser beam that could dissect her every flaw. She ushered him inside, the hallway suddenly too narrow, too confining. She slipped into the bathroom and shed the pajamas. Her fingers waged a silent war with buttons and zippers, a clumsy ballet of haste. Each click and snap was a resounding echo of the dream that clung to her thoughts. She tried to shove the images aside, to bury them under layers of fabric, but it seemed inescapable. Because now, he stood outside, annoyance etched in every line of his impeccable suit.

"Hotch," she began as she waved at the alarm clock, its digital numbers blinking like a guilty accomplice. She pulled her hair into a hasty ponytail, the elastic snapping against her skin. "I'm convinced my alarm clock is broken." The words tumbled out, a desperate attempt at distraction. "But hey," she continued, her eyes meeting his, "I think I just won that bet--the one where the team bet you'd never get mad at me." Her lips curved into a half-teasing smile, her nose scrunching at the action. "Soft spot, my friend."

Hotch said nothing as his gaze followed the hurried sway of her movements. Stepping closer, he surveyed the bed's solitary disarray amidst the room's order. The blankets lay in a tangle of turmoil. How much does she move in her sleep? he wondered. His eyes honed in on a small corner of fabric peeking out from under the pillows.

There, nestled among the tangled sheets, sat a small teddy bear, its pink bow a splash of color against the tan. Hotch's expression softened as he lifted the plush toy, turning it over in his hands, a smile tugging at his lips. Of course she slept with a stuffed animal. 

The warmth of mortification spread across Evelyn's face. "Oh, um," she mumbled with a forced chuckle, plucking the bear from Hotch's grasp. "That's my... strategic sleep ally. Because, you know, every good agent needs a backup. Totally standard-issue."

"We'll circle back to your... bedtime tactics," he said with a hint of a smirk. "For now, conference room. Let's go."

Evelyn and Hotch made their way down to the conference area. The room hummed with anticipation, bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights. Rows of round tables faced a raised stage, where a large screen displayed the conference logo. Agents in crisp suits mingled with academics in tweed jackets. Some wore glasses, other carried tablets or leather-bound notebooks.

A spark of excitement ignited within Evelyn, her gaze darting from face to face, recognizing those who were like celebrities of their field. 

"Hotch, do you see who that is?" Evelyn's voice was on of awe as she nudged Hotch, her gaze fixed on the figure across the room. 

Hotch's eyes followed her line of sight and landed on a distinguished-looking woman who, upon noticing Hotch, raised her hand in a casual wave. "I do," Hotch confirmed with a nod, acknowledging the silent greeting with a subtle nod of his head.

Evelyn's mouth fell open slightly. "You're actually so cool," she said, the words slipping out before she could filter them, a smile spreading across her face.

Hotch's mouth twitched in a semblance of a smile. "I'm going to choose to not take that as an insult," he replied, his eyebrow arching in mock offense. "Stay here, I'm going to check us in."

Evelyn acknowledged Hotch's departure with a quick nod and an 'okay boss'. She was still orienting herself in the conference's bustling atmosphere when two familiar faces approached from the crowed. Mr. Weller, his suit a bit worn at the elbows, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a practiced gesture. Dr. Reeves, his hair slightly disheveled, was animatedly discussing some policy change in data privacy. He quickly roped Evelyn into the conversation who listened intently, interjecting only with thoughtful nods.

Evelyn's muscles relaxed slightly as Hotch returned to her side. His hand rested momentarily on her back, a professional gesture by all accounts, but Evelyn couldn't help but feel a spark of awareness ignite. She fastened the name tag he handed her with fingers that suddenly seemed less steady, the metal's chill doing little to dispel the soft heat that had settled between her shoulder blades. 

As Professor Lewis swept in, she bypassed Evelyn's attempted greeting as if it and her were invisible. The professor's laser focus cut her off with surgical precision as it landed on Hotch. 

Her voice carried an urgent edge as she addressed Hotch. "Aaron, can I pick you brain about something?"

Evelyn's greeting hung suspended, and a familiar twinge of frustration pricked at her--the kind that came from being eclipsed again by the professor's selective attention. With a quick nod, Hotch vanished into the crowd with Professor Lewis, leaving Evelyn grappling with a sudden, unsettling sensation in her chest. She exchanged pleasantries with the two men before her, their words weaving through her consciousness without taking hold. 

Her gaze, however, was glued to the sight of Hotch and the professor, their heads bowed in earnest conversation. A surge of jealously, uninvited and irrational, twisted inside her. It was a confusing betrayal of emotion, given her casual relationship with Spencer. But she realized if it was Spencer in that Hotch's position, she'd feel the same about the professor, if not worse. The dream from last night was the culprit, she decided.

Left alone as Dr. Reeves and Mr. Weller departed, Evelyn sank into the chair at her table. The sight of Professor Lewis, so at ease with Hotch, gnawed at her. Why did it bother her so much? Maybe she just needed a nap.

As if summoned by the sheer force of her thoughts, Hotch appeared, his presence a sudden weight beside her. The question erupted from Evelyn before she could stop herself. "What did she want?"

His eyes took on a discerning quality, the subtle narrowing revealing his assessment. "She asked for my opinion on a theory."

"Hmm," came a soft murmur from Evelyn, her lips briefly pressing together in contemplation.

Hotch's gaze drilled into hers, probing. "What?"

"Nothing," Evelyn dismissed, her shoulders lifting in an indifferent shrug.

The morning's panel had unfolded with a deceptive ease, allowing Evelyn to shelve her simmering jealously. Yet, as the shadows shifted to signal the afternoon's approach, her anxiety crept back, an unwelcome companion. 

In a separate room, she paced, her fingers tracing over her notes, each word etched into memory. "You've got this, Evelyn," she murmured, a mantra against the fatigue that seemed to drape over her. "You are prepared. You are intelligent."

Evelyn's grasp to the chair became white-knuckled as a sudden dizziness swept over her, unannounced and unwelcome. The room swirled into a blur, the ground beneath her seemingly shifting as her breathing became uneven and rapid. She looked up to see Hotch. Caught mid-affirmation and near-collapse, a rush of warmth flooded Evelyn's face. She righted herself with a silent plea, willing the black dots to vanish from her vision. 

His eyes locked onto hers with a piercing intensity, studying her--the subtle shift in her posture, the way her hands trembled. "Evelyn," he said, reaching out to steady her with a firm hand. "What's wrong?"

Her words stumbled out, a clumsy cascade of denial. "Just nerves," she claimed, offering a faltering smile and a brittle laugh to conceal the tightening in her throat. Hotch's steady, searching gaze didn't waver, his disbelief hanging silently in the air.

His voice held a note of insistence. "Have you eaten today?"

Evelyn blinked, realization dawning. "It slipped my mind," she admitted. 

Hotch's next words were lost on her as darkness seeped into her field of view. She felt the world tilt, her knees buckling as she was swiftly cradled in a secure, urgent grasp. Blinking away the disorientation, Evelyn found herself cradled in Hotch's panic-stricken gaze. His eyes were wide with alarm, his cool facade shattered as his hand hovered over 911.

"Hotch," she managed, her voice soft but her sarcasm intact. "Impeccable timing as always."

There was a softening in Hotch's gaze, a subtle shift from concern to mild exasperation. "Evelyn," he chided softly, his finger's tap on her hip a punctuation to his words. "You're anemic. You can't just skip meals like they're optional."

Evelyn's effort to sit up sent the room into a dizzying tailspin, each movement threatening to yank her back down. They found themselves grounded in an intimate proximity--she, half-laying in a disoriented haze, and he, crouching by her side, arms wrapped around her in a secure hold, one hand cupping her head to shield her from the hard ground, the other laid upon her waist. 

"Didn't event cross my mind," she confessed, her voice a fragile thread. "Been so busy."

Hotch's hand emerged from his pocket, clutching a compact, foil-wrapped package. "Here," he urged, extending the snack towards her with a gentle authority. "It's good for anemia."

She squinted at the package. "Do you always carry this around?" she questioned, her voice tinged with genuine surprise.

He nodded, no-nonsense. "Yes."

Inside, her heart did an unexpected leap, touched by his silent care.

"You're a sap, Hotch," she teased, her voice light. "Who knew? I bet you've got a whole stash in that suit."

His eyes bore into hers, and for a moment, the room dissolved and the air thickened. And despite her playful words, Evelyn's fingertips tingled, her skin hyper-aware of every pore. The anemia-induced weakness faded into insignificance all because of a stupid snack he carried around. A snack he had thought to carry for her, based on a single, fleeting confession. 

"Stop talking and eat."

And so, she did.

Evelyn's body protested with each step towards her room. She'd argued, of course--pleaded about missing her speech, about the importance of being present. But Hotch, with his hands guided her with a careful touch, wore an expression that left no room for debate. The lines of his face were drawn tight, a clear reflection of the worry that silenced her objections. 

"Rest," was a firm directive, and though Evelyn balked, she ultimately yielded to his authoritative concern. Promptly, room service materialized at her door, courtesy of her favorite unit chief. The tray was abundant with foods rich in iron, and she'd devoured it with an eagerness, only pausing for sips of water.

As the sun made its descent beyond the horizon, its lingering rays casted a golden spotlight on the outdoor hot tub. Evelyn's silhouette blurred against the steam rising from the water, her skin kissed by the fading light. Her hair, a cascade of disobedient curls, crowned her head and softened the contours of her face. The night air nipped playfully at her heated skin, a refreshing counterpoint to the liquid warmth that welcomed her as she dipped into the water.

As her gaze lifted, her room came into view--the curtains drawn, the soft glow of lamplight seeping through. But then she turned her head, and there he was.

Hotch stood on his balcony, his gaze fixed on her. His expression was inscrutable, and for a moment, Evelyn's heart raced. She could sense it--the unspoken command that she should be in her room resting. But her half-wave was genuine, a flicker of happiness at seeing him. He acknowledged her with a curt nod. Evelyn's gaze returned to her book, her fingers tracing the book's creases, her focus slipping. 

A stranger's appearance disrupted her quietude. He had a tailored physique, the kind that hinted at gym memberships and expensive cologne. His eyes, though--too probing--made her uneasy. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, easing into the water.

Evelyn's responses were polite, but she kept her distance. Yet, he persisted, inching closer with every comment. Evelyn's spine prickled, a frosty warning that crawled from nape to tailbone. The book now lay abandoned on the tub's edge. The distant city lights blurred as she feigned interest, but his nearness--his breath, his questions--made her skin crawl. 

Evelyn's eyes scanned the balcony, hoping to see the reassuring figure of her unit chief. But it was empty--the moon's glow casting eerie shadows on the tiles. 

And then, as if summoned, he materialized. Hotch stood there, his expression unreadable. The moon's glow painted his features--sharp jawline, a hint of stubble. But it was the swimsuit--a sinuous second skin--that stole her breath. The fabric of his shorts traced every contour, leaving little to imagination. Evelyn's gaze lingered on his chest, the hair that spread across of it, the rugged masculinity that defied office walls. Her mouth went dry, pulse racing.

"There you are, babe," she murmured, her tone laced with artificial sweetness. Her pulse raced, her eyes seeking Hotch's with an intensity that begged him to read between the lines.

Confusion creased Hotch's forehead as he processed the scene, his eyes flitting from Evelyn to the stranger, the gears turning. "Sorry honey," he said, his voice a low rumble as he approached the water's edge. "Had to take a call. Work stuff."

The word 'honey' lingered in the air, sweet and potent, leaving Evelyn lightheaded. She felt a flutter in her chest, a realization dawning that with the use of such a word, she'd gladly drawn in paperwork if he asked.

With Hotch's arrival, the water created ripples that reached Evelyn. His eyes, deep and searching, locked onto hers with an immediacy that bridged the distance between them. As he settled next to her, the subtle heat of his presence enveloped her. She nestled against him, her whispered explanation cut off by his lips grazing her ear. 

"I know," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down her spine. Evelyn's heart stumbled over itself, a drumbeat out of sync. "You look so good tonight, honey," he announced, ensuring the words reached beyond their intimate circle. His eyes darted to the supple swell of her breasts on display, a quick, silent exchange that left her heart fluttering wildly, even as her mind reminded her it was just an act.

The man's eyes widened, bouncing from Evelyn and Hotch like a pinball. "Oh," he stuttered, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone, "I didn't realize you were with someone."

"Yeah," Evelyn said, her voice a soft murmur as she settled into the curve of Hotch's lap, her ass planted firmly against his front. The warmth of his body seeped through the thin veil of her bathing suit, causing her cheeks to set flame. Her heart skipped, reveling in the proximity she knew was off-limits. Hotch's arms, both protective and dangerously intimate, encircled her waist.

"This is my husband," she introduced, the word foreign on her tongue. "Aaron, meet...?" His first name rolled of her tongue, a sweet liberty taken in a moment of pretense, as she left the space open for the stranger to introduce himself. 

The barest hint of a smile threatened to disrupt the stoic lines of Hotch's mouth, a silent admission of pleasure of the sound of his name from Evelyn's lips. The intimacy of the act, hidden behind the guise of necessity, wasn't lost on him. He should have been irked by the ruse, yet he found himself savoring the moment. He cleared his throat, a quiet struggle for detachment, even as her voice echoed in his ears.

"Nathan."

Hotch extended his hand with a blend of authority and subtle warning, introducing himself, "nice to meet you," with a tone that cloaked none of his conviction.

Meanwhile, Evelyn's touch traced a path over his chest, a touch that betrayed the unfamiliarity of the act. Her other hand tangled gently in the hair at his nape, a tender exploration that drew an involuntary shiver from him. 

Hotch's voice was hushed against her ear. "You're laying it on thick," he murmured, his breath a warm caress that belied the sternness of his words. His grip on her hip tightened imperceptibly.

Evelyn's lips quirked, a silent acknowledgement of her tactic. "Necessary," she whispered back, her voice a playful lilt. "For my safety." 

Nathan persisted, undeterred. "So, what are you two down here for?"

Hotch's face remained impassive. "A work conference," he stated, the intensity of his eyes fixed on Evelyn.

"So you both work together?" Nathan asked, his tone probing. "Is that how you met?"

Evelyn's smile unfurled like a victory flag. "Oh, yes," she purred, his voice dripping with faux innocence. "He's my boss actually--totally inappropriate, I know. But bless him, the poor man never stood a chance from the moment he laid eyes on me. He just couldn't help himself. It was a HR disaster, of course, but it all worked out."

Hotch's brow furrowed in disapproval, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curling into a reluctant grin. "That's true," he conceded, his voice gruff. "She's... something else, a handful to say the least."

"That's what hands are for!"

Nathan fidgeted uncomfortably as he gave the couple a tight-lipped smile. "Well, I ought to head out," he declared, darting glances between Evelyn and Hotch. "Aaron, you've hit the jackpot, my man."

Hotch's voice was tight, barely containing his exasperation. "No doubt," he managed, "I'm living the dream."

Once Nathan had disappeared, Evelyn leaned closer, her voice a soft, playful murmur. "Guess I owe you one," she teased. "You really sold that doting husband role."

Hotch's response was a single raised brow, his face a mask of feigned solemnity. "Necessary," he echoed, the word rolling of his tongue with a hint of irony. "For your safety."

"You caught the weird vibes he was giving off, right?" she prodded, her elbow gently jabbing his side. "I mean, talk about strange, huh?"

"You're like a magnet for guys like that," Hotch observed, his mouth curving into a half-smile "but, yes, you made the right call."

Her grin was infectious. "Always do," she said with a wink. "You know we make a pretty good team, don't you think? Maybe we should look into undercover work."

"A good team, yes," Hotch agreed, his tone dry. "But undercover? I'd have to start practicing my 'shushing' gestures now."

"Aaron Hotchner, did you just make a joke? Where's my notebook?" Evelyn's giggle rang out, loud and unrestrained as she clutched his shoulders. "And if I talk too much, it's only to balance out your brooding silence."

Her laughter was a living thing, wrapping around Hotch, nudging at the corners of his usually impassive facade. The sheer delight in her voice, planted a seed of contemplation in Hotch, a consideration that maybe, just maybe, a joke here and there wouldn't be such a bad thing, especially if it elicited such a reaction from her.

For a fleeting moment, a genuine, toothy smile flashed across Hotch's face, an uncommon display that he quickly concealed with a downward shake of his head, not wanting to boost her ego any more than necessary. 

"You know, aren't you supposed to be resting up in your room?" 

Evelyn's gaze lingered on him, savoring the rarity of his wide smile. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight and it stirred in her an urge to see it again and again.

"I don't know, Hotch," Evelyn replied, her voice as light as the air around them. A stray lock of hair drifted across her face, and she huffed it away with a puff of breath. "I'm quite content right here."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, disbelief playing on his words. "Oh, really?"

Suddenly, Evelyn's casual demeanor crumbled, replaced by a flustered clarity as she realized her position, perched unceremoniously upon his lap. "Oh, um," she murmured, her voice trailing off into a stammer as a warm flush of embarrassment spread across her face. "I mean, not in an inappropriate way! That came out wrong, sir. I just meant the hot tub is relaxing--like a warm hug for my muscles. Not that I'm hugging you. I mean, I am, but not intentionally. It's just the--"

The shrill ring of Hotch's phone sliced through the air, a timely interruption to Evelyn's frenzied monologue. He leaned subtly to the side, his hand extending towards the intrusive device, his movements fluid and composed. Meanwhile, Evelyn's departure from his lap was anything but graceful; her cheeks burned with a fiery blush as she mumbled an apology, her limbs betraying her as she hastily disentangled herself.

"Sorry," she stammered, her words trailing off into the chaos of her movement. "I'll just--"

With a simple lift of his hand, Hotch stilled her spiraling apologies, his attention shifting seamlessly to the caller on the line. Evelyn perched beside him, her cheeks still painted with the flush of embarrassment, feeling the residual heat from their embrace. His voice was the epitome of calm and control, his gaze lingering on her as he spoke into the phone.

"Hotchner," he announced into the phone, his voice a steady command. Evelyn breath steadied, her hands playing at her bikini strings as she willed calm to wash over her. The call ended with a decisive click, and she tensed anticipating his next words. "We have a case. We're going to meet the team in Somerville, Massachusetts."

NEXT

taglist: @aceofspades190 @nonamevenus @lukesaprince @doigettokeepyou @tequilya

[godsfavdarling]

Keep Holding On

(set between seasons 10-11 at the beginning, later includes the events of season 12-15) wattpad, Ao3

Molly is an elementary school teacher with a simple, fulfilling life. Her romantic life, though, remains stagnant, lacking any signs of flourishing, as she faces continuous disappointments in her pursuit of love. However, a chance encounter with Spencer, a sweet and gentle genius, might just be the catalyst for a change in her romantic fortunes.

All of my works include mature content and eventual smut. my masterlist

I'm not great at writing warnings, but I always try to be clear when there's sexual content. If you think I missed something, please tell me.

there's 45 chapters (around 92k words)

chapter 01

chapter 02

chapter 03

chapter 04

chapter 05

chapter 06

chapter 07

chapter 08

chapter 09

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

chapter 30

chapter 31

chapter 32

chapter 33

chapter 34

chapter 35

chapter 36

chapter 37

chapter 38

chapter 39

chapter 40

chapter 41

chapter 42

chapter 43

chapter 44

epilogue

here's the poster. i'm too proud of it not to post it

[uranometrias]

published a spencer fic on wattpad && im so excited to see it come to life!!

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

[piqtescue]

that fit on him tho☀️

[444rockstargf]

"heard that you like the bad girls." | spencer reid

video games. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: when the black cat meets the golden retriever.

fill out the taglist form!

female!reader x spencer

word count: 1.2k

contents: opposites attract, spencer being a sweetheart, fluff, not proofread

it had to have been a cruel joke played by the universe when you and spencer were assigned to work on a job together.

your interactions with him had never gone past glancing at him as he passed by or blankly nodding at the factoids he spat at 100 words per minute. he was a self-proclaimed genius, equipped with intelligence that many could only aspire to obtain. so it didn’t make sense to you why it was always as if his IQ got slashed in half whenever he spoke to you.

spencer was a sophisticated individual, particular about everything from the way he carried himself to how each chestnut-brown strand of his hair was laid. while you were the polar opposite. you went with the wind, going wherever the night took you. your attire consisted of dark colours and you put minimal effort into making yourself look professional, though you suppressed your style just a little to help it meet the nonexistent workplace requirements. even with your lack of interactions, spencer could tell you had a bold personality. and he longs to search and explore every part of it.

the first step he took in getting to know you was offering to give you a ride to work. as usual, you were running late. he’d said that he’d be at your place by 7:30 and you watched the long arm of the clock tick to 7:29. you slipped on your dark brown sweater, letting it rest on top of your pleated black skirt. you hastily put on your dark tights, finishing off the look with your black doc martens. you looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure you didn’t look as crazy as you felt you were going.

as the clock hit 7:30 the doorbell chimed, perfectly on cue. you quickly grabbed your bag, dashing down the stairs until you reached the front door, seeing spencer through the lens of the peephole. you let out a soft breath, taking in the 6 feet of elegance that awaited you on the other side of the door. the bright morning sub made his hair appear to be made of one million pure gold threads, his eyes turning into soft pools of honey.

with a deep breath, you opened the door, greeting him with a warm smile. he met your eyes with warm eyes and the softest smile you’d ever seen. he stared at you, not saying anything for a good moment until you cleared your throat to catch his attention. he ran a hand through his hair, blinking himself out of his smitten daze.

he couldn’t get over how much he wanted to know about you. you were attractive in a frustratingly effortless way, like you just so happened to roll out of bed looking like a goddess. he had gotten lost in your gaze again, finally coming to his senses after another long minute. “g-good morning.” you laughed softly as he stammered. “morning, doc.” you teased, never having bothered using such formalities before.

he went to extend a hand toward you before thinking that he was moving too fast. “shall we? my car’s in your driveway.” you nodded, walking out the door and shutting it behind you, making sure to lock it as you and he strolled over to his car. he opened the door for you and you hopped in, slightly flattered by his chivalrous gesture. he got into the driver’s seat next to you, stealing a quick glance in your direction as you buckled up his seat belt. he’d never been able to take his eyes off of you, but the feeling got even more intense when you were this close, your scent filling his nostrils. he started up the car, pulling out of your driveway.

you yawned, rubbing your eyes as he began to drive down your street. he raised an eyebrow. “tired?” you nodded. he began to speak again, his eyes lighting up in the way that they usually did whenever he went off on irrelevant tangents. “for optimum health and function, the average adult requires around 7-9 hours of sleep to function properly during the day. but studies show that 60% of women fall short of that goal.”

you laughed a little, amazed by how quickly he could pull the facts out of his head. he pulled out of your street, driving in the opposite direction of the workplace. “how about we head down to that coffee place across from your house? i saw it when i was coming earlier.” and he absorbed knowledge like a sponge. you smiled. “yeah, that’d be great. thank you, spencer.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him squeal when you called him by his name. you pulled out your mirror, fixing up your hair as he pulled into the parking lot. “i’ll be back in a minute, okay?” he walked into the cafe before you could respond. and he hadn’t even taken your order. you were willing to bet a large sum of money that he’d draw an assumption on how you liked your coffee. you took it black, no cream and no sugar. but no guy had ever guessed that right.

you flipped through the radio channels, searching for something good to play. you assumed that you’d be waiting for him for a while. but he walked out of the shop before you could even settle on something to play. he hopped back into the car, holding two large coffees in his hand. your eyes were wide. “that was quick.” he nodded. “i ordered ahead of time. i had a feeling you wouldn’t be used to heading to work this early.”

you rolled your eyes, accepting the cup he held out to you with a smile on your face. you took a slow sip of the drink, eyes growing with surprise as you tasted the familiar, bitter mixture. he was watching you with a stupid little grin on his face. “no cream and no sugar, right?” your eyebrows inched up on your forehead. “how’d you know that?” he shrugged, putting the keys back into the ignition. “i see you everyday. it’d be a shame if i didn’t know how you took your coffee.”

you felt a sizzling sensation spreading in your cheeks. you turned away slightly, watching the atmosphere change as he drove away. the car fell silent, something you’d never expect from spencer. then he opened his mouth to speak again. “h-hey, i’ve been meaning to ask you something…” you tilted your head to the side, curious at what he had to say. he took a deep breath, trying not to sound as awkward as he knew he was. “all this work stuff is pretty hectic, like all the time. but you seem… i-i dunno. you always listen to what i have to say and never act like i bore you. s-so… i was wondering if you’d like to try out that new restaurant that opened after work…?” 

he regretted asking as soon as the word came out, but you were grinning from ear to ear as you heard him speak like a normal, nervous guy instead of the genius he was. “you asking me out on a date, spencer?” he swallowed hard, quickly looking over at you. “i guess you could put it that way…” you stayed quiet, watching as he squirmed in his seat. you found that you liked getting him all riled up. you lifted up in your seat a little and pecked him on the cheek, his face immediately flushing with crimson. “pick me up at 7:30. don’t be late.” 

you and him both laughed at the irony of that statement.

author's note: i need to rewatch criminal minds. i've completely forgotten everything about it

[spencerslover-blog]

did you know that jellyfish are radially symmetrical? they are symmetrical because of a central axis that runs through the length of their body. They have an upper and lower part, but no left or right sides. They are different from other types of animals such as reptiles, fishes, birds and arthropods, which exhibit bilateral symmetry. I love them

[smurphyse]

One Way Mirror | Spencer/Hotch/Alvez

Smurph's Masterlist

Warnings: hole in the wall, foursome, DP, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, sex club, slapping, choking, spanking, toys, free use, aftercare

Summary: You like to spend your down time at a certain type of club... anonymity is key, but then one day the boys from the team come in for some nighttime fun.

Working at the BAU was stressful. Each day seemed a battle, and each night felt like a loss. You had no time for a personal life, nor the energy.

So, you usually ended up here. 

A wonderful club hidden away in a back alley, you spent most of your nights there. Hooking up took too much mental energy, too much work for a mediocre lay. Plus, it was dangerous, and you weren’t an idiot. No, this was the place for you. Each room had a different purpose, and you’d tried most of them. But, this was your favorite room. 

The one with the one way mirror.

You stamped your hand and headed inside, making a beeline for your room. You were even early so you could get your favorite booth. Dark sultry music played as you waltzed inside and shut the door behind you. 

Guys liked this room because of what it was, an oversized glory hole for them to use. The wall opened just enough for your waist to go through, a soft table on the other side for your chest to lay comfortably on while strange men used you for the night. There was a panel with three buttons on it; one red, one green, one yellow. You always kept it on green, a color system to let the men know they could keep going. So far you hadn't had a problem with anyone. 

The owner told you that a party had booked the room for the entire evening, and your body sizzled with excitement. You loved entertaining whole groups. Instead of the one by one men who came in and out of the room to use you, groups tended to rile one another up, trying to see who could make you cum the most. It was delicious.

Putting your things inside the booth, you stripped down to nothing but a pair of stilettos. With your naked ass bared for any to see as they entered the room, you closed the door around your waist and lay on the cushion in front of you. There was a mirror in front of you so you could see the people who used you. It was optional, but you liked to know everyone who came inside, to burn their faces and the sensations of their cocks in your memory. They couldn’t see you, though, and that was what was the most fun.

There was even a board next to where you lay on display, listing all the things they could do to you in this position. 

The owner always left a bottle of wine for you in the booth, and some lube and toys for the customers on the other side. You poured yourself a glass and waited patiently. People paid for the privilege to come to this club and participate, and anonymity was key. It was exclusive, expensive, and worth every penny.

You were already wet, just thinking of all the ways you would be used tonight, when the door opened behind you. You watched the mirror as the owner stepped in with a welcoming sweep of his hand across the room, “Welcome, gentlemen.”

Your heart nearly leapt through your throat at the group that followed him in. Aaron Hotchner, Luke Alvez, and Spencer Reid stepped through the door and into the lounge. You couldn’t believe it! They said they were going on a guy’s night to a bar, not to a sex club. Was this what they always got up to on their nights out? 

Hotch handed the owner a bill and shook his hand, “We’d like to be left alone for the night.”

“Understood,” he nodded in agreement. He pointed at the lights, “it’s a simple color system. Green means go. Yellow means slow down and pause until the light turns green again. Red means stop, and if it’s pressed someone will come in to check on her.”

He pointed to where your ass stuck out of the hole in the wall, “Ultimately, she’s in charge. Safety is our priority, gentlemen.”

Spencer leaned in with a cocked brow, “Can she even hear us?”

The owner nodded, “And you’ll hear her. She’s a screamer, that one. She’s also the best piece of ass you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”

“Thanks,” Hotch nodded, quickly ushering him out of the room. He stuffed his wallet in his jacket pocket before shrugging it off. Draping it over one of the lounge chairs, Hotch plopped down in the seat and picked up a cigar waiting for them on the table next to a bottle of wine and some glasses. He lit it as Luke joined him, leaving Spencer watching your ass with wide eyes.

“It’s your birthday present, Reid,” Luke said cheerily, waving a hand toward you as you waited with bated breath and flushed cheeks. “Pick a hole, any hole, my friend.”

Your body couldn’t seem to help itself, your legs spreading wide and your back arching in pained anticipation. Oh, you’d thought about fucking Spencer Reid more than you’d thought about even Luke or Hotch. He’d been your boss long ago that you sinfully wished to screw on his desk, but he left, and when he came back was happy to work under Emily. But Spencer? All you wanted to do was tie him to a bed and fuck him until he was bone dry, pumped full with cum and his moans.

“See?” Hotch told him with a coy smile. “She wants it.” “You don’t know that,” Spencer whispered, but his eyes were transfixed on your slick cunt. 

Luke jerked his jaw toward the wall your ass peeked out of, “Give us a wiggle if you want him, sweetheart.”

You took a steadying breath. Your whole body trembled with excitement. Sure, you’d thought about them all individually… but somehow you hadn’t thought of taking them all at the same time. You truly were living the dream.

You shook your ass tantalizingly, and Spencer’s pupils dilated like saucers. Hotch stood, the cigar dangling out the side of his mouth and nearly making you cum at the sight. He put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and murmured into his ear. “I told you, everyone who comes here chooses to. Nobody’s getting paid. They pay to live out their fantasies. You told me this was one of yours.”

Hotch took a deep pull off the cigar, blowing out smoke to the side. He handed it to Luke, who took it and set it in the ashtray for him. Hotch’s strong hands squeezed Spencer’s shoulder, and you watched with a dropped jaw as he pressed his lips to Spencer’s neck. 

"There's even a list of things for to do to her," he said, tapping the board with his knuckle. "You get to pick. She gets to take it."

Spencer closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath as Hotch smoothed his palms down his sides and slipped off his jacket, handing it back to Luke. He undid Spencer’s tie and let it fall to the floor, then slid his hands over Spencer’s crotch.

“It’s your birthday, Reid,” he murmured as he unzipped Spencer’s slacks. His deft fingers went quickly for his belt, letting it hang open as Spencer’s dick grew hard in his boxers. You nearly bit through your bottom lip as you saw it grow, thick and long… and then Hotch pulled him out of his boxers, dick springing free.

You always knew Spencer was beautiful, inside and out, but oh god was his cock a masterpiece. Hotch ushered him toward you, one of those large hands reaching around and gripping Spencer’s length at the base. He gently pumped him as Spencer stumbled forward. His hands hit the wall around you to brace himself as Hotch lined him up with your already dripping hole. 

“Have some fun. See how wet she is?” Hotch goaded him. He angled Spencer's cock to brush along your folds, so warm and hard against your aching cunt, and you couldn’t help but shudder. “She’s a little whore, waiting for you to use her. She’s just a hole.”

Hotch slapped your ass harshly, making you yelp, and Spencer’s eyes widened as it jiggled in front of him. “Isn’t that right, you little slut?”

That’s exactly what you wanted to hear, to be objectified so you could let go. Hotch pushed Spencer forward, his thick head breaching your hole. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as your walls stretched to accommodate his length. Spencer’s eyes flicked to the wall, goaded on by your sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," Spencer groaned as he inched inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his sheer girth. Hotch let him go, and Spencer's hands moved to grip your waist. 

They were strong and firm, wide palms smoothing over the expanse of your backside. He gave you a rough squeeze, then a light slap just to watch you bounce. You didn't even want to hold back your little moans as he rolled his hips to push further inside. 

His cock split you open, stretching you beautifully. You clutched the sides of the table tightly, nearly shredding the cushion as he bottomed out. 

Spencer's voice was strained, but soft as he sweetly asked you, "You're sure you want this?"

"Of course she does, Reid, or she wouldn't be here," Luke told him gently. "Look at her board. She wants to be used and degraded, like the cocksleeve she is."

With gritted teeth you slammed your fist down on the green button, over and over so it shone brightly in their room. Spencer's dick twitched inside you, so sinfully dirty to be fucking your coworker without his knowledge. 

"That's what you want, huh?" Spencer asked softly as he pulled out. You were about to slam that button again when his hands gripped the extra flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise. He shoved his cock back into you harshly, stars rocketing across your vision at the sensation. 

"Oh!" you cried out as he did it again. Soon enough he picked up his pace, railing you roughly into the table. You were sure your stomach would be badly bruised after, and you couldn't wait to see them. "Oh, fuck yes!"

"See?" Hotch cooed, egging Spencer on. "There you go, fuck her like the dirty whore she is."

Spencer seemed to let go then, using you like a sleeve as he rammed into you over and over. Yeah, it hurt, but it also felt so damned good. Your slick dripped down your thighs, his slippery cock holding you wide open for Hotch and Luke to see. 

You whined loudly, yelping each time he hit a deeper spot, one that made you nearly black out. This was so taboo, and Spencer didn't even know just how much. He just thought he was using some random girl in a sex club, but if he knew… maybe they'd all use you at the same time. 

The thought consumed you, and before you knew it, one of the fastest orgasms you'd ever had blasted through your body. Your eyes rolled back, body arching to take even more from his leaking cock. Your walls clamped down around Spencer Reid's dick, body shuddering violently as it took you over. 

"There you go! Look at that drippy pussy," Luke called happily, toasting him with his wine glass. "Fuck that whore, Reid. Use her up."

Spencer panted behind you, his jaw dropped open as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from your stretched hole. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes transfixed on the sight before him. Your body went limp as your orgasm waned, and you watched with bleary eyes as he bit his bottom lip and thrusted deep inside you one last time. 

Cum hit your cervix, sticky and hot and oh so good. Spencer moaned breathily as he emptied himself inside you, shuddering with each thrust until he was spent. 

Hotch stood as he slowed, and when he was done he simply grabbed Spencer by the shoulder and guided him back to the lounge chair. Spencer collapsed into the leather seat, his softening cock glistening in the dim lighting as he caught his breath. 

With that cigar hanging out of his mouth, Hotch unzipped his pants and brushed his thick cock against your folds. They were slick with cum and your own juices, and he let out a soft groan as he grinded against you. 

"Leaky little slut," he murmured, half to himself with glassy eyes. Hotch slapped your ass even harder than before, earning a sharp cry from you. "Let's put this hole to good use."

Stretched and open, he had no problem shoving himself inside. It was strange, as it always was, to have one cock leave you and another enter almost immediately. Hotch was thicker than Spencer, but a little shorter. That familiar burning stretch made you moan deep from your chest.

"You like being used, don't you? What a fucking good for nothing cocksleeve," he said, taking a puff off the cigar. Smoke filled the room, the heady scent of sex and sweat filling up the empty spaces. 

You watched through the mirror as Spencer and Luke watched Hotch. Luke unzipped and pulled himself from his pants, lightly palming his own length as Hotch toyed with your open cunt. His thrusts were shallow, but you knew from experience he was ramping up to something. 

His hand came down so hard on your hip you nearly screeched. Your body shook with the force, but he just laughed cruelly. "Disgusting slut. By the end of the night, you won't be able to walk."

His grip was fierce, fingertips bruising your skin as he stared to fuck you. Hotch was brutal, slamming his hips against the backsides of your thighs and ass roughly. He even pinched and flicked you, grunting deep and grinding hard. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks, but you loved it. He used you like you were nothing, just a toy to be played with. You were sure that if you weren't in the wall, he'd be holding you down by the back of your neck and holding your arms behind your back. "Fuck, daddy!"

It came from nowhere, that word, but it seemed appropriate. Luke let out a moan as he palmed himself, Spencer growing hard again as he watched, transfixed, as Hotch brutalized your cunt. 

"That's right, you little bitch," he grunted, his hips slapping against your skin lewdly in the small room. "Take it like the fucktoy you are!"

Your cries and whines echoed loudly, your dripping pussy soaking down to your ankles. It was so much. The heat, the smoke, the brutal fashion in which he fucked you like a madman. You couldn't help it when another orgasm shattered your mind. 

You squirted over his cock, drenching the front of his pants as you screamed in pleasure. Hotch braced himself against the wall, nearly tearing you in two with each snap of his godly hips. 

Your body shook again as you spotted Spencer fucking his own hand, Luke's jaw dropped down as he watched your juices flow from your split hole. It was perfect, brutal and beautiful in its own way, and the memory was all yours. 

Hotch came with a guttural snarl, slamming his head so deep inside you were sure you split in two. His cum spurted into your womb, filling you and pushing Spencer’s further inside. Tears dripped down your face as you gasped, that full feeling nearly making your belly hurt. 

He took a deep breath before pulling out, and both their cum oozed out of your pussy. It globbed down your thigh, running down until it slipped into your stiletto. You watched hazily as he went and sat down on a chair, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, looking quite satisfied with his pants hanging open and his cock out. 

Luke slapped his hands together, eagerly jumping from his seat. "Looks like it's my turn! Let's see, let's see…"

He went to the small table with toys and lube, twinkling his fingers above them as he decided which to grab. Your eyes went wide as he picked up a thick dildo with straps and some lube. He twirled it in his hand at the boys before turning to you. 

You couldn't help but moan as you watched him drag the tip of it across your folds, gathering up slick and cum. You nearly went cross eyed when he brought it to his mouth and licked it off with a pretty pink tongue. 

Luke tapped your cunt with the flat of his fingers lightly, just enough to make you jump. Your cunt trembled, wondering just what he was going to do with it. He had a devilish glint in his dark eyes, watching you clench around nothing. 

"Let's see what this tight little body can take, huh?" Luke mused as he inspected you.  

He dropped to his knees and licked a thick stripe up the back of your thigh, gathering up Hotch's and Spencer's cum before swallowing it. You let out a shuddering moan at the sight, his hot spit cooling quickly on your skin. 

His tongue trailed up until it reached your pussy, and he delved his tongue deep inside, making you hold onto the cushion for dear life on the other side of the wall. Your whines grew steadily louder as he ate you out, flicking your clit over and over. 

Hotch watched with a smirk as Spencer’s eyes glazed over. It was deliciously sinful to see, but just as you were about to teeter over the edge again Luke pulled back. 

"Calm down," he shushed when you whined pitifully. "You'll be all filled up in a second, sweetheart."

He lightly bit your ass cheek before focusing back on the toy. It was thicker than any of them, heavy and made of silicone. Your legs spread wider on instinct as he dragged it up your thigh. You ached with anticipation, still unsure of what he had planned until he looped one of the straps around your ankle. 

Looping the other, Luke slid the brace up your thighs, angling the dildo to your entrance. He pumped you with it, easing it inside until it filled you. Your walls clenched around it, a filthy squelching sound echoing around the room as it bottomed out. 

Making sure it was firmly inside, Luke tightened the straps, keeping the dildo in place. It was so thick, holding you wide open to do nothing but clench around it. He went to the table next and grabbed some lube, then squirted it around his fingers. 

"We'll go nice and easy," he said as he got to his feet. 

His fingers rimmed your exposed asshole, slippery and hot. You did your best to remember to relax, but even his fingers were thick, probing gently into the ring of muscle until you let go. His fingertip breached you, and you moaned with your jaw dropped as he pumped you slowly. 

"That's right," he cooed. He pushed in to the knuckle, curling just enough to make you clench around him and the toy. "Take it like the whore you are, sweetheart. We're gonna fill you up nice and pretty."

Luke spread your hole with his finger until he was satisfied, adding another. He turned to the chairs, spotting Spencer. "Get over here, Reid."

Spencer got quickly to his feet, nearly tripping over himself to meet Luke's command. Luke put him between you both after he stretched you open, and you squirmed in excitement at what was coming next. 

Luke pulled down Spencer’s pants until he could kick them off, leaving him in nothing but his shirt and socks. Luke undid the buttons and tossed it aside, then grabbed the lube bottle again. 

He pressed himself against Spencer, who in turn pressed his own cock against your wet and open hole. All you wanted was to be fucked, but when you spotted Luke depositing some lube into Spencer's hand all you could do was watch. 

"Spread it over your cock," he whispered in Spencer's ear. "This is what you wanted, right? To be in the middle?"

Your pussy clenched so hard around the dildo that if it wasn't strapped in you were sure it would have rocketed across the room. Spencer nodded shyly, but Luke just smacked his ass. 

"Right?" he asked again, sharper this time. "You said, 'I want to try being with a man and a woman at the same time.' I'm giving you what you want, okay? I'm gonna take care of you."

"Right," Spencer gulped, nodding emphatically. He did as Luke told him, coating his dick with the lube as Luke spread more over his own fingers. 

"Fuck her in the ass, Spence," Luke murmured, pressing a kiss behind his neck. "It's what she wants, man. Look at her. Dripping with cum and filled to the brim, and all she wants is more."

You wiggled your ass just to prove his point, pushing down on the green button as well. Spencer nodded again, pressing the blunt head of his cock against your exposed hole. Luke held onto his hips as he pushed inside, making sure he didn't jerk forward too quickly and hurt you. 

You and Spencer both moaned loudly as he pumped himself inside. It burned, hot and painful and so wonderful. With your cunt filled with thick silicone and Spencer’s beautiful cock pushing inside, you almost came again. You were so full, so blissed and fucked out as he used you like a toy. 

"So fucking tight," Spencer groaned as he bottomed out. He grinded deep, your back arching to take more of him. "I wanna live here. This body… goddamn."

"That's right, man," Luke murmured. He pushed Spencer against the wall, pushing hard against you. You moaned and tried to wiggle, but you were trapped there. "She's gonna be your little slut to use, and you're going to be mine."

Your brows raised at that, and you watched the mirror with a fierce intensity as Luke put a hand between Spencer's shoulders. His hand disappeared between them, but Spencer moaned wantonly and grinded deeper in you. You whined pitifully with the lack of friction where you needed it most, but you knew what Luke was going to do before he did it. 

You watched him wipe off his hand, then look down at his crotch. Spencer's dick twitched and bobbed inside you as he grunted, his jaw tightening, but Hotch spoke up from where he palmed himself in his chair. 

"Relax, Reid," he said softly, encouragingly. "Do what this whore does. Just take it."

Spencer relaxed a bit, but not enough, so you grinded back onto him. You rolled your hips the best you could in this position, rocking back on his cock. He mimicked you, doing the same and rolling in between your asshole and Luke's member. His jaw dropped and his eyes fluttered shut, and you had him right where you wanted. 

With Spencer's hands on your hips, Luke braced himself with one on Spencer's own and the other on the wall. He started slow, quickly picking up his pace, and Spencer followed. His cock bounced inside you, ramming you into the wall, but you let out every moan and whine you could, crying out with each thrust. 

"Fuck, this is a good little hole, Hotch," Luke grunted, his face screwed up on concentration. "We don't even need the girl. We can just use Spencer!"

"Oh, we can find a good use for them both," Hotch replied, getting to his feet. He picked a vibrator off the table, angling it between your dripping pussy and turned it on. 

The vibrations hit you like an earthquake. You were so full and being touched by them both, and watching Spencer come apart from Luke fucking him like a beast was almost too much too soon. 

"Oh god, oh god," Spencer panted, his cheeks bright red. Your pussy clenched around the dildo, your other hole tightening around his cock at the sound. The vibrator was driving you mad, and when Hotch slapped your ass with his free hand you cried out. 

"Thank you!" you screamed, drool dripping down your chin. You were so hot, and the room filled with hazy lust and grunting. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" 

"Go on, Spencer. You hear that?" Hotch growled lowly. "Give it to her. Fuck that hole. It's just a fleshlight."

Spencer nodded, his head bobbing up and down, "It's a good hole. A good fucking toy… oh fuck, I wanna destroy this little hole for anyone else!" 

Luke bit his bottom lip as he rammed Spencer from behind, thrusting him deeper inside you. Spencer exploded without warning, hot sticky cum flooding your ass as Hotch slapped your cheek again even harder. The vibrations rocketed through you, your whole body arching and spasming with Spencer as he rode his high. 

You vaguely heard Luke cum, felt the way Spencer’s hips jerked forward as your ears rang with bliss. Spencer cried out and moaned with each new thrust, clinging to your hips with everything he had. 

After that, they all used you. For hours, it seemed, they fucked both holes over and over, taking turns. They ate you out, stuffed you with toys and their cocks, used vibrators on you. All until you were a weak drooling mess lying limply on the table. 

They took a break, catching their breaths and taking sips of some gatorade to recharge. Your body twitched as you lay useless, soft moans and whines escaping you. You couldn't really do anything else but lay there, so full of cum and drenched with it where they sometimes pulled out and came on your back and ass. 

"I think I have one more in me," Luke decided, and Hotch nodded in agreement. Spencer lay slumped against Hotch, who rubbed his fingertips lightly up his arms as he caught his breath. "Wanna have some fun with it?"

He pointed at you, and your body clenched in excitement. One more was about all you had as well. After cumming so many times at once you knew it would take you some time to lay there and recover, but you wanted one last memory to keep with you. 

Luke got shakily to his feet, running a light hand over your cum-covered thigh. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "What do you say you come on out of there, sweetheart? Take us all at once before we head home for the night?"

Your heart pounded at the thought, but you hesitated. What if they saw you and decided they didn't want you?

"We'll take good care of you. I promise," Luke offered. "We'll clean you up before we go and everything. Give you the aftercare you deserve after all you did for us."

"Oh, I wanna do that," Spencer agreed, getting up from the couch. Hotch followed him, and Spencer came up to lean against the wall, rubbing one knuckle across your backside. "Let us take care of you, huh? I don't know if you heard, but this is my birthday present."

You bit your lip and grinned. Even if they decided they didn't want you, you knew you'd given Spencer a good birthday celebration. You decided to go with it, as the thought of having all three holes used by all three eligible men in your group was too enticing to pass up. 

You hit the green button, and they shared an excited smile between them. Taking a shaky breath, you unlatched the door and let it swing open. 

Hotch and Luke grabbed your arms gently as you tried and failed to push yourself up to sit. Spencer ran a soothing hand up your back as they turned you around, but the shock that hit their faces when they saw your teary smile was almost too much to handle. 

"Y/N?" Spencer gasped as he recognized you. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are, boys," you replied sultrily, but your voice shook a bit with your exhaustion. "Paying for the privilege."

Luke's dumbfounded look turned into a smirk, and he confidently made his way between your legs, putting his hands on your thighs. His eyes glinted mischievously as he said, "I always knew there was a dirty girl hiding under that blazer."

"Oh my god, do you know what we just did to you?" Spencer marveled, his eyes wide. "Oh, Y/N, I'm so-."

"Don't you dare say sorry, Spencer Reid," you snapped, pointing at him. "I came here to get fucked by any one who walked in the door and it just so happened to be you guys. I don't regret that for a second."

"You don't?" Spencer asked hopefully, and you reached out and cupped his jaw in your hands, doing your best to ignore Luke's creeping fingers up your wet thighs. 

"You don't even know how many times I've thought about you, baby. I can't even count how many times I've cum on my own fingers thinking about you guys."

Spencer smiled happily, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Hotch knocked his knuckle on the board of your green light list, "Everything on here, that's what you're comfortable with?"

It was the first time he'd spoken, his dark eyes watching you intently as you turned back to him. All four of you were naked as the day you were born, and he looked good with that fuzzy chest and his hard cock bobbing in front of you. 

You nodded, reaching out to palm him. His dick was slippery from your juices and lube, letting you glide easily over him. Hotch was never one to give anything away, but he smiled down at you, pressing one knuckle under your jaw. 

He kissed you then, hard enough to bruise. Always so calm and collected, he really let himself out in bed. He pulled back, but not before nipping your bottom lip and making you moan. 

His hand flashed out in a second, dragging you by your throat onto the ground. You let out a surprised yelp but your sloppy cunt squelched loudly as you clenched. He shoved you onto your knees, looking down at you so imposing and strong. 

He held his dick by the base, "Open your mouth, then, whore."

You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue. You put your hands on your knees and arched your back, and he quickly gripped you by the hair and shoved his cock down your throat. 

He was relentless, ramming himself deep as Luke and Spencer joined him on either side. They took turns with you, quickly pulling you off one by the hair and shoving you down on another as tears dripped down your cheeks. They called you all sorts of names- whore, bitch, cocksleeve, fucktoy.

Hotch pulled you off one last time, leaving you gasping for air and your throat bruised. As you collapsed on the ground, he pushed Spencer into a chair, then leaned down and gripped you under your armpits to lift you up like you were nothing but a doll. 

Spencer sat splayed in the seat, his cock glistening with your spit. His chest was patched red as he panted, watching Hotch pick you up. He maneuvered you to sit on your knees, spread wide over Spencer's lap. 

He leaned down and brushed your hair back to whisper in your ear, "It's his birthday present, you dirty little toy. Ride him like the good whore we all know you are."

You couldn't help but giggle excitedly, nodding. Spencer watched you nervously, his hands set gently on your hips. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his to quell some of his anxiety, moaning happily when he relaxed a bit. 

"You gonna cum inside me, Spence?" you asked sweetly as you angled him to your entrance. "Be the last one to fill up this little pussy?"

He nodded emphatically, "Please, it's all I want."

You both groaned as you sank down on him. He filled you up beautifully, so thick and hot. His cock pulsed inside you, already ready to burst. You set your hands on his shoulders and lifted your hips before dropping back down. He was perfect, so sweet as he caressed you. 

Spencer's hands wandered to your tits as you rode him hard, body bouncing and jiggling with each drop. His blunt head bounced off your cervix, stretching you deeper and wider. You felt Hotch come up behind you, his hands gripping your waist and squeezing appreciatively as Luke approached from the side. 

He jerked himself off as he watched you, eyes glassy. Hotch smacked your ass a few times, making your hips jerk and twitch as you moaned. 

"Oh fuck," you gasped, body coiling for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "Fuck, Spence, you feel so good…"

"Yeah?" he asked coyly, cupping your jaw with one hand. The other pinched your nipples, swiping a soothing thumb across before switching back to the other. "This is how you like it? Being groped and touched and fucked by a bunch of strange guys?"

"I love it!" your voice hitched, eyes rolling back. You felt Hotch line himself up to your gaping hole, his knee braced on the chair. 

Your head rocked back as he breached you, so stuffed full and plugged. Cum streaked across your skin from them using you all night, and you let out a high pitched moan as he fucked you from behind. 

Their cocks moved in time, one sliding out as the other slid back in. It was all so much, so gratifying and dirty. All your moans and grunts echoed around the room as they fucked you, and Spencer quickly gripped you by the hair and pulled you down for a kiss. 

Hotch slapped your ass again, and you knew tomorrow you'd have bruises staining your skin. Spencer's tongue plunged down your throat, drinking in the taste of their cocks on your spit. He moaned into you, and all you could do was kneel there with your back arched as they used you like a doll.

"That's right, take it all," Luke marveled, and you had to pull away from Spencer. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, leaning over for him. Luke shoved his cock into your open hole, grinding deep in your throat before fucking you in time with the other men. 

Spencer moved your head by your hair, pushing you down on Luke's thick length over and over as their cocks pumped in and out of you. You were completely stuffed, body locked in this position. Fluids dripped down your thighs, drool leaking out of the sides of your lips and down your chin. 

Your brain was completely fuzzy, desperate moans reverberating around Luke's cock. He pulled out quickly, his hand slapping your cheek and making you cry out. Spencer let go of your hair to pinch and slap your tits over and over, red welts breaking out across your skin. 

Hotch joined in, "You like that, you dirty cumdump?" 

"Yeah she does," Luke agreed. He slapped you again, hard enough to rock your head to the side. Then he tangled his fingers in your hair and shoved his length down your throat again before you could answer. "Look at her, covered in cum… this is how she should be. We should tie her up in the jet and just use her every case. She doesn't even need to work. She's useless except for this."

You moaned and nodded, tears streaming down your face as he fucked your mouth roughly. You relaxed your throat and opened your jaw as wide as you could, letting him facefuck you as Hotch and Spencer rammed your other holes. 

"What a good toy you are," Spencer grunted. His hips pistoned up into you, slamming into your cervix so hard you saw stars. Your body clenched up, starting to shake, and Spencer laughed and pinched your tits harder. "Look at her, she's gonna cum."

You nodded weakly as they used you, and when Hotch suddenly grabbed your arms and twisted them behind your back your whole body jerked in primal response. The stretch in your shoulders burned, and he held you up by your wrists as Luke held you up by your hair. 

They had you trapped, and if you wanted to move you couldn't. Their tight hold on you cut off circulation, your slippery cunt leaking at the sensations of it all. Luke pulled out and slapped your cheek again, but all you could do was groan happily. 

"Oh thank you!" you cried out as they rammed every hole you had. Luke jerked himself off in front of your face, his cock twitching as he was about to burst. "Thank you for fucking me like this! Fuck, fuck, just wanna be a hole for you to use… just wanna be filled with cum!"

Luke groaned, cum spurting from his head. You stuck out your tongue as it landed on your cheeks and chin, trying to get as much of it as you could in your mouth. Hotch and Spencer fucked you relentlessly even as Luke waned, but he pulled you close and shoved his dick back in your mouth. 

"Clean it off, slut," he panted, hips twitching at the overstimulation. You laved your tongue over it, licking up every bit of yourself and his cum you could. 

Spencer pinched your tits so hard you began to cry, but you didn't stop and neither did they. Hotch's nails dug into your wrists as he thrust one last time deep inside. His hot cum spurted into your asshole, shoving so far in  you were sure your whole body was rearranged. 

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort. "You good little fuck…"

Spencer tugged you off of Luke, not caring at all that your face was covered with another man's cum. He licked your cheeks and chin, tasting it and moaning as Hotch pulled out. You felt his spend leak from your gaping hole, but Spencer was relentless. He never stopped, instead plunging his tongue down your throat again.

Hotch and Luke caught their breaths as you made out with Spencer. Your hands were released, and you rode him like a madman as he fucked up into you. Your body clenched, beginning to tremble and strain from the effort as Spencer pulled back and put his forehead against yours. 

"You gonna cum?" he asked darkly, his sweet eyes meeting your teary ones. "You gonna cum just for me?"

You nodded pathetically, so needy and exhausted. "Wanna cum, Spencer, please!"

"Yeah?" He mocked your teary expression, and his hand came down sharply on your bruised asscheek. You yelped, sobbing as you nodded again. "You're so stuffed and fucked out… this hole is all stretched. Maybe I should go find a few other guys to help me fill it up."

You shook your head as you cried, "No, please. Just you, just need you Spence! Want you to be the last one to fill me up… just want you to make me cum… please!"

Spencer grinned, tugging you back for a sloppy kiss. It was all teeth and tongue. Your fingernails drug down his back as he caressed your body. He held you so tight and close, ramming his cock deep. 

Your eyes rolled back, body trembling violently as you came harder than ever. Your vision blacked out as pure ecstasy rocketed through you. You squirted over his lap, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and squelching taking over the room. 

Spencer called out your name as he came, moaning against your lips and holding you so close you were sure you became one. You went limp in his arms as he finished, spent and used and covered in cum and bruises. 

Spencer collapsed against the back of the chair, panting and trying to catch his breath. "Jesus Christ, Y/N… holy shit."

You couldn't speak or move. Your mind didn't have the capacity to do anything anymore. After a while, you felt someone lift you. You were laid down on the couch with your head in Spencer's lap. Hotch sat down by your legs, rubbing your feet as Luke knelt on the floor with one of the cleaning rags they left in every room. 

Luke cleaned you while they caressed you. Spencer brushed back your hair, lightly running his knuckles over your face as you struggled to come back to earth. Hotch massaged your feet and legs, warming them back up after they locked into soreness. 

"Mmm," you groaned, smacking your lips as you finally came to. They all sat around you, gently touching and giving you praise. 

"Such a good girl," Luke murmured. He was rubbing cooling gel over your bruised breasts, massaging it in gently. "You were perfect, sweetheart."

"Best ass this side of the Mississippi," Hotch agreed, making you smile. 

You glanced up at Spencer, who was watching you with those sweet eyes of his. He pushed back your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You couldn't do anything but grin. Hotch lightly tapped your thigh, "You're alive, right?"

"Mhmmm," you groaned, but that was all you could say. 

They waited until you could move again before dressing you and then themselves. Spencer picked you up and settled you on his hip, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you started to fall asleep. 

You vaguely registered him saying he would take you home. He carried you through the club and put you in his car, both Hotch and Luke giving you a kiss goodnight. 

He talked to you the whole way home, but you were pretty out of it, slumped down in the seat and fucked into blissful semiconsciousness. Your whole body was sore, but it was amazing. You'd never felt this content and satisfied. 

He got your keys out of your purse and brought you up to your apartment, rubbing a soft hand up and down your back as he spoke praises and sweet words to you. Your heart opened up each time he did, so safe and warm in his arms. 

Spencer set you down gently on your bed. He eased your clothes off and set your shoes neatly on the floor. He even folded them for you, setting them on a chair in the corner. He tucked you in, sitting on the covers next to you. 

Spencer sighed and brushed back some of your hair as you lay cozy under the covers. He gave you a soft smile, "I'll check on you in the morning, okay? Then we'll go get your car."

"Mm okay," you murmured back, hardly able to keep your eyes opened. 

Sure you had all those dirty thoughts about the people on your team, but the sweet ones you reserved for Spencer. He was so kind and warm to be around, while the filthy sex you'd just had with him was a fantasy of yours, having him tuck you into bed as a dream come true. 

Spencer leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and tried to commit it to memory, to burn it into your mind forever. When he pulled away, your arm broke free of the blanket cocoon and gripped his wrist. 

"Do you… do you maybe wanna stay?" you asked quietly, hopefully. 

Spencer watched you with wide eyes, but it quickly turned into one of those beautiful smiles of his. 

"Of course I do."

You grinned like a maniac as he toed off his shoes, then took off his clothes. Red lines littered his back from where you scratched him, marking him as yours. 

Spencer slid under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around and pulling you to his chest. You pressed your nose into his neck, and he rubbed his thumb against your spine as you lay there, safe and happy. 

"Y/N?" Spencer asked softly into the darkness. 

"Yeah?"

Spencer took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for rejection. He gave you a quick squeeze and in a small voice asked, "Do you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"

You pulled back a bit to look at him, and he was watching you with wide and worried eyes. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled, "Like a date?"

Spencer swallowed thickly, "Yeah, like a date."

You bit your lip and looked away, nerves taking over. "Even after seeing me like that? With… other men? You still want me?"

Spencer laughed breathily, like you were an idiot. He cupped your face with his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You melted into him, letting out a small moan. 

"All I ever wanted was you," he murmured as he pulled away. He held you so delicately. "Before I knew it was you in that wall… I was imagining it was."

You giggled sweetly at his words, kissing him again. You pressed your body against his, and even though you'd been through a lot tonight your pussy was slick as it slid against his hip, your thigh slung over his middle. 

"Oh, no," Spencer scolded you playfully. He shook his head and gave you a serious look. "You may have an unlimited libido, but I couldn't get it up again if you paid me. Plus, you should rest for tomorrow."

You smirked, "You're gonna fuck me tomorrow?"

Spencer grinned back at you, one hand sliding over your bruised ass. He squeezed you tightly, making you hiss in pain and pleasure. 

"Baby, after tomorrow, you won't want to fuck anyone else ever again."

"I already don't. Happy Birthday, Spencer."

Smurph's Masterlist

Notes: Whoo... I got myself ALL worked up writing this <3

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid

[wrenreid]

Do you take requests? I had a prompt to send in, but I wasn’t sure. I saw a fic for another fandom where the guy was having wet dreams in bed with y/n female reader and I thought it would be a great smut Spencer friends-to-lovers story. ❤️

Wildest Dreams

I haven’t before, but I’d love to take requests! Thank you:)

synopsis: Spencer Reid has a wet dream about his good friend and coworker. He’s highly embarrassed from where his unconscious mind wandered, so he avoids her. That is until she forces him to tell her what happened. When he does, her reaction is not what he expected. Had to add some angst because it’s who I am. Hope you like this! i hate my smut

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (m and f receiving), penetration

The team piles onto the jet after a long case. All of your faces read tired, especially Spencer’s. He plops down on the couch, something he has practically claimed as his own.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask him. “Can’t sleep on the seats.”

He scoots over, allowing space for you. Gratefully you sit down next to him, leaning your body the opposite way of his onto the arm of the couch.

Both of you are dead asleep within twenty minutes, which is highly unusual given your records of mild insomnia.

The two of you sleeping in such close proximity isn’t strange at all like one might think. You’ve been friends since you joined the BAU two years ago.

You started out as an assistant of sorts. You were still in the academy, but you were given the opportunity to work on real cases, just not in the field.

Spencer and you clicked that week since he was the only agent, other than the talented Penny Garcia, that you spent the most time with. He was off the field due to his injury from getting shot in the leg.

Watching his mind work was fascinating. It seemed like he knew everything, and honestly he kind of does. He taught you a lot that week, showing you how to apply all of the psychology and people-reading you’d learned in the academy. Being in the BAU with him was more beneficial than your classes at the academy.

You’re woken up to the sound of your own name. It’s coming from Spencer’s lips. He’s still asleep. You wake him up, worried he’s having another nightmare.

“Reid,” you say softly to not wake up the others. “Spencer. Hey, I’m right here.”

He stirs awake from your gentle shaking, his face beat red. “Y/n?” He sounds like he’s still partially asleep.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, voice still in a whisper. “Did you have another bad dream?”

Spencer shakes his head. Then he nods. He seems confused. Embarrassed.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t real,” you comfort him, patting his knee gently.

He pulls the blanket over his lap more, causing you to move your hand. “I know,” he sighs, nodding.

“We should be landing soon,” you say. “Maybe you’ll get better rest at home.”

Spencer shrugs slightly and turns his face away from you. You don’t take it to heart. You know how these dreams can be for him. Real. Terrifying. You know because you have them too.

When the plane touches ground and comes to a stop, all of you get off the plane gratefully. It’s late. Nearly 2 in the morning. Hotch tells everyone to get home safely.

“Do you want a ride?” You ask Spencer once both of you have your bags situated.

“I’ll just get a cab,” he tells you quickly.

“Really, it’s no problem,” you say, “It’s late.”

“It’s fine, Y/n.”

His voice has been clipped and distant for the last half hour. Why is he acting this way? It couldn’t have been something you did because you don’t remember doing anything.

Instead of fighting him on whatever it is that’s up his ass right now, you nod and walk to your car.

The two of you take turns driving sometimes. It saves gas money and allows you company on the 40ish minute drive from your neighborhood in D.C. to Quantico. You don’t live too far away from each other, only an 11 minute drive. It would’ve been no problem to take him home. But he opted for alone time. You guess you can’t blame him.

“Are you going out with us tonight?” You question your friend, rolling your chair to his desk.

“I don’t think so,” Spencer answers quickly.

“Why not? We haven’t had a team outing in ages. Let loose, Reid.”

“Y/n,” he warns.

“Fine,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Movie night then?”

“Movie night?”

“Yeah. Just you and me. That new horror movie is on HBO now,” you wiggle your eyebrows, knowing his love for horror can persuade him.

“I don’t know,” Spencer says, pressing his lips together. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You don’t think what’s a good idea?” Your eyebrows raise.

The two of you have had movie nights multiple times in your two year friendship friendship.

“Just leave it alone, okay?” Spencer says, shrugging you off.

You don’t want to make a scene at work, so you roll your way back to your own desk and continue the paperwork from the last case.

Spencer has never acted this way toward you. Sure, he’s been secluded and reserved, but he’s never been one to shrug you off, to push you away.

Something is up. Something has made him close himself off. He can’t keep shutting you out like this, not without telling you why.

So after work, you try to catch him before he leaves. Unfortunately, Morgan decides to tell you and Emily a story, and Spencer slips out of the bullpen while you listen.

You’re a confrontational person. And your closest friend is avoiding you. This means one thing. You force him to tell you what’s up.

You knock on his door, not too loudly. He opens it after a few seconds.

“Y/n, what are you-?” He starts.

“What did I do?”

“What?” He huffs softly.

You fold your arms, standing in front of him with a serious face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. I don’t know why, so tell me. What did I do to make you mad at me?”

Spencer’s face softens. “I’m not mad you.”

“Then why are you being so short with me? Why are you avoiding me? You’ve been a little bit of a dick.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” he says then pauses. “Okay, I’ve been avoiding you. But I’m done now. You’re right, it’s dickish.”

It’s always a little funny when Spencer curses. It never sounds natural.

“Why though?” You stay stern, needing to know what’s up with him.

“Come in,” he motions his head toward his living room.

You oblige, making your way to his couch. He sits beside you. You’ve been on this couch a thousand times together.

“So?” You question.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“Yes, I am,” you tell him.

Spencer sighs. “When we were on the couch the other night on the jet, I had a dream…”

“Yeah, I know that,” you say.

“It was about you.”

“Did something bad happen?”

He shakes his head. “Well, it depends on what you think is bad. We were in bed together.”

A laugh bursts through you. “Wait, you’ve been avoiding me because you had a wet dream about me?”

“Don’t call it that,” he groans.

“That’s what it is!” You chuckle, a big grin on your face. “That’s no big deal, Spence. It happens to people all the time. You have no control over what your unconscious mind conjures up.”

“So you’ve had one?” He asks.

“No.”

The blood has rushed to his cheeks deeply. He’s embarrassed.

“I haven’t thought about you like that in my sleep,” you tell him. “But perhaps I have while awake.”

Spencer lifts his head off the back of the couch. His eyebrows are furrowed. “What?”

It’s your turn to blush. “Yeah. I mean, the thought has occurred a few times.”

“I don’t quite know how to respond to that,” he presses his lips together.

It’s cute when he does that. It’s nerdy and shy.

“You don’t have to,” you say softly. “I just wanted you to know you’re not in the wrong for having a dream about me.”

The two of you have absentmindedly inched closer to each other. Your hand rests on his leg.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You ask, looking into his brown eyes.

“Only if you want me to,” he says.

“Show me what we did in your dream,” you whisper in his ear.

What happens next is not something you ever thought you and Spencer would do. You weren’t lying when you said you’ve thought about it, but you never thought he would’ve felt the same.

Your lips make contact softly at first, but his neediness takes over and his mouth dominates yours.

You always thought Spencer would be more of a gentle lover, but it turns out he’s an all consuming powerhouse.

He pulls you onto his lap, his hands squeezing your thighs and ass. He’s grown into himself well in the past year, and he’s definitely gotten more confident. You like this side of Spencer. A lot.

He tells you to lift your arms up, and you obey the order, eager for him to do more. Your shirt comes off quickly and his hands leave your ass and grab your tits. He’s not too rough, but he’s definitely not gentle.

You smile down at him before connecting your lips to his neck, careful to leave your marks in places he could easily hide under his clothes.

“Was I on top or bottom in your dream?” You ask, voice low and raspy.

“Both,” he answers, fingers working on the buttons of your pants.

You slide off of him and shimmy out of your work pants. You stand before him in mix matched underwear. He doesn’t care that they’re different colors. He wants them gone.

He lifts his shirt above his head and tosses it to the ground. “We should take this to my room. There’s not much space on the couch.”

“Yes sir. Or should I say doctor?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“Yes, yes you should,” he grins, obviously liking the use of his title on your lips.

He follows you into his bedroom. You’ve laid in his bed on late nights multiple times. But he never shared it with you. He must’ve been too scared his true feelings would come out at night like they did on the jet.

“Lay down,” he says softly.

“I thought I would do something for you first,” you say, pulling him in by the belt loop.

“No need, sweetheart.”

“But I want to,” you tell him.

He nods. “As you wish.”

After slipping down his pants, you position yourself on your knees. He hands you a pillow so you don’t get sore. That makes you smile.

You take just the tip at first after running your thumb along it. After getting use to the feeling of him in your mouth, your head bobs up and down on him. Spencer’s hands tug on your hair as he finishes in your mouth.

“Your turn,” he says with a smile, looking down at you.

“If you please, doctor.”

His mouth is on your clit in no time. His tongue and lips work magic, causing you to call out his name.

“God, Spencer,” you whine, your hands tangled in his hair. It’s much shorter than it was when you met him, it makes him look older. In a good way.

With a combination of his fingers inside you and mouth working on your bundle of nerves, your legs are shaking and you’re finishing.

Spencer hardly gives you time to catch your breath before his lips are on yours and he’s hovering above you. You don’t mind. You need him.

“Are you ready, darling?” He asks.

When you say yes, he slowly slips himself inside you. He gentle at first, giving you both time to adjust.

His thrusts gradually speed up, and the slow and gentle turns into fast and rough. The sounds of your heavy breaths and moans fill his bedroom.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he groans, hand on your neck.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe out, wrapping your legs around his torso.

It doesn’t take much longer for you both to be moaning loud and shaking once again. You clench around him as you come, causing his own finish to release from him.

You bask in the high of the adrenaline coursing through your body. The two of you breathe heavily, your hearts pounding.

“Wow,” you sigh, moving your hair out of your face. “So, was that as good as your dream?”

“Much better,” Spencer says, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb gently.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer @impossiblynoisywasteland @jazzerbelle14

[crystalflwr]

˚₊· ━ 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗧 𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧!

𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁! ᵇᵉ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵖᵒˢᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ

"𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞"

No one is safe.

When 5 years ago the first dead body of a male turned up, the police thought it was a one time thing created by pure rage. They should've known better — the bau should've known better.

The velvet killer. The lady in red. The most horrific female killer known in history. Her brute was unmarkable but the skill to throw the bau off every time again also preoccupied her a spot in everyone's worst dreams.

But what happens when one of the bau's team members gets taken by the uncatchable killer?

Only what they don't know is, she's closer than expected.

➸ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: late 20's Spencer Reid × early 20's fem oc! — early 40's Aaron Hotchner × early 20's fem oc!.

↳ fem oc = Sienna Carter

➸ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: angst and smut.

➸ 𝐖𝐂: 2.8k (ongoing)

➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: violence, heavy nsfw themes. (more specific details will be found in the chapter warnings).

➸ 𝐀/𝐍: If you want to get tagged, comment to let me know and you'll be notified!

series taglist: none

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗,

► PROLOGUE : shadows

synopsis: Agent Carter finds herself at the mercy of a psychopathic killer but it wasn't just any killer... the velvet killer has finally stepped from the shadows.

↳ (coming soon)

► CHAPTER ONE : religion

synopsis: Hidden truths finally present themselves and the impossible becomes possible when Spencer finds himself tied to a bed with the one person he once trusted most holding a gun to his head.

► CHAPTER TWO : bloody red

synopsis: revealed soon.

► CHAPTER THREE : inner demons

synopsis: revealed soon.

► EPILOGUE : it never ends

synopsis: revealed soon.