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#spencer reid smut imagine
sinfulspencer · 7 months
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Human
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Prompt: Reader shows Spencer that prison might have changed him, but he's still the love of her life. She's going to stick by his side until he gets tired of her. Based on the song 'Human' by Daughter.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: angst, mature (18+)
Warning: self-doubt, self-pity, Spencer is just sad; implied unprotected sex
Words: 4.8k
A.N.: This is a fic I wrote last year around July-August and now it can finally see the sunlight. Thank you @andiebeaword for being my beta-reader for this!
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My mind’s lost with nightmares streaming
Woken up kicking, screaming
Take me out of this place I’m in
Break me out of this shell-like case I’m in
Underneath the skin there’s a human
Buried deep within there’s a human
And despite everything I’m still human
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The bed creaked underneath the weight of his body and the blanket shuffled on top of me, while my eyes got used to the darkness of our bedroom. The silent sound of footsteps made me turn on my right side, trying to figure out what was happening and why I was about to wake up. 
Instinctively, my hand went to the side and touched the warm spot Spencer was supposed to occupy. His pillow was still there, but he wasn’t. 
I wasn’t surprised. 
My eyes fell on the clock on my nightstand and, just like the night before at 4 am, I was alone in our bed. The darkness surrounding me wasn’t as comforting as it was before, because it felt like it was swallowing me whole - but I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
Spencer, on the other side of our apartment, was sitting on the couch with his weighted blanket wrapped around his shoulder and his eyes closed. He was rocking back and forth, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth with his hands clutching to the blanket.
That’s how I found him in our living room.
I didn’t want to get too close, terrified that I could’ve spooked him, but I couldn’t stand there and do nothing. 
The pained expression on his face broke my heart as a tear escaped from those kind eyes that watched me with love and tenderness. I couldn’t just stay there and not do anything, I needed to help him somehow.
“Spencer?”
I called out his name to try and take him out from that hazy state he was clearly in, but I didn’t succeed. His eyes were still closed tightly and his knuckles were white because of the tension on his fingers, still gripping the blanket.
I took another step closer. “Spencer, my love?”
He didn’t move, but I saw his body relaxing when my voice reached his ear. Like a knot coming undone, Spencer leaned back against the couch with his blanket falling down from his shoulders. 
His eyes didn’t open, but there was no need to. 
“My love, I’m here.” - I whispered, taking another step closer to cover his shoulders with the blanket again - “You’re home.”
When my right hand barely brushed Spencer’s skin over his elbow, his fingers gripped it tightly and moved it over his chest. I didn’t pull away, following the path of his fingers before caressing the tender skin right above Spencer’s heart. 
I could feel the quick beating of his heart underneath my fingertips.
I wanted it to match mine, calmer and more relaxed.
“Can I sit here with you, my love?”
Spencer didn’t answer me, but he moved to the side in order to leave space on the couch for me. His left thigh was slightly pressed to mine as his fingers lost their grip on my hand, cradling on top of my thigh. 
I didn’t know what he wanted to do, but it was fine. 
If touching me was what he needed to feel better, then I was more than willing to help him in that way. 
Once I got comfortable on the couch, kneeling by his side with my right hand on his chest and the left one behind his neck, I leaned forward. I rested my chin on his shoulder, as Spencer’s curls tickled the lower part of my face. 
He released a long sigh, tilting his head.
“Is there something I can do, my love?”
Spencer shook his head, pulling me closer to his body. I could hear the faint sound of his sniffles as he hid his face in the crook of my neck, clinging to the warmth radiating off me and the smell of home that embraced him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and climbed onto his lap.
“You’re home, my love. You’re not there anymore.” - I whispered, running my fingers through his curls - “Did you have a nightmare?”
“Yes.”
Spencer’s voice came out broken by sobs, his body shaking as he tried to get as close as possible to me. My chest was pressed to his and my fingers were playing with his curls, a gesture that usually helped him calm down whenever he had those moments.
Prison changed Spencer, and not for the better.
Though his confidence peeked somehow, his whole demeanour changed whenever we were alone in our apartment. Spencer used to love having his space, but after his release from prison that changed: he never left me alone for too long, he always found a way to touch me and hold me close, as if he was scared I might disappear.
I knew it was all in his head, he knew it as well - but that didn’t change the fact that he wouldn’t stop holding my hand or asking me to come closer to him.
Spencer was terrified of losing me.
Before prison, losing me was just a temporary fear that would go away with my reassuring words. After prison, that fear became more irrational, more rooted in his brain to the point he would call me too many times on the phone just to make sure that I was safe and at work.
I couldn’t blame Spencer. 
He saw his friend getting slaughtered in front of him. He had to taint other prisoners’ drugs in order to stay alive. He had to spend three hellish months in a place where he didn’t belong, to a place that crushed his spirit and ruined all the progress he had made through the years. 
The nightmares were probably the worst part, though.
Endless nights of Spencer waking up screaming at the top of his lungs, where he would cry and cry in my chest because he thought I was dead, because he dreamed about being covered in my own blood branding a knife behind his back, because he thought that he hurt me. 
His hands would shake me to make sure that I was still breathing and then he would kiss me, apologising to me for waking me up because he was so scared, whispering that everything was okay and he was just scared.
Scared wasn’t even the right word for it, Spencer was.. panic-stricken. 
Shivers down my spine whenever I felt him shuffling out of bed and running outside the bedroom. I followed him every single time, everywhere around the house, fearing that he might do something awful, something drastic. 
It was exhausting. 
The more I tried to help him, the more everything seemed pointless.
But I wasn’t going to give up.
Underneath that shell of a man, there was my Spencer.
My darling Spencer, the man I’ve loved more and more each day. 
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s okay, we can sit here in silence and watch the sun come up.” - I offered, pointing to the purple curtain covering the glass - “How about that, my love?”
Spencer didn’t answer me, but he held me closer to his chest as he hid his face in the crook of my neck. His curls tickled my skin as his hands brought me down on his thighs, feeling the warmth radiating off every inch of my body.
It wasn’t sexual.
It was far from that.
Spencer was making sure that I was real, that I was alive and breathing, that I wasn’t a figment of his imagination and that he wasn’t having another dream. The gentle massage of his fingers all over my thighs stopped as soon as I turned to the side, looking at the closed window not too distant from us. 
The sky was still black and grey clouds were dancing ahead of us, but the faint lights of the sleepy sun were slowly peeking. I hoped the view could reflect Spencer’s episode as well: dark in the beginning as the poisonous thoughts clouded his brain, with the light slowly filtering through as the fear dissipated and my love lullabies him back to me, back to reality. 
“Are you going to work today?”
I leaned my head on top of his, nodding. “Yes, but in the afternoon. Do you want me to call in sick?”
Spencer released a frustrated sigh as he went quiet. 
I knew what he was thinking: he wanted me to stay at home with him, but he knew he couldn’t ask me that. Replacing me at work wasn’t easy, I knew my co-workers wouldn’t have appreciated that. 
However, I was willing to do anything in my power to help Spencer out.
If he needed me to be with him for the whole day to hold his hand, to cook him some food, to read him a book, I was ready to do it. I didn’t want Spencer to feel bad for keeping me away from my colleagues and my work, I didn’t want Spencer to think that I resented him for asking for help. 
I would’ve never done that. 
Asking for help is one of the hardest things the human kind has ever learned to do, and some people still struggle with it. Spencer always kept everything to himself before prison, but then he realised that there was no need to fight all alone.
There was no need to use all of his strength and keep on fighting when there was no one by his side because he pushed them away, because he built this hard, cold wall all around his heart. 
But he had to come to it on his own time, at his own pace. 
Unfortunately, what made him understand that asking for help wasn’t a weakness, was prison. In that shit-hole Spencer understood the power of love, the power of his own words and that his feelings were valid.
They were a part of him, they were what made him a person. 
Spencer had a really hard time processing that, but never did I push him. Never did I force him to speak when he didn’t want to. Never did I tell him that everything he did hurt me, because he knew that.
Deep down in his bright, warm heart, Spencer knew that by keeping quiet and never speaking he was hurting me. But who was I to tell him that? Who was I to kick a man who was already down? Spencer was well aware that communication meant everything to me, but I couldn’t force him to speak if he couldn’t. 
He had to find his own voice, he had to find the strength to ask for help.
And when he did, his whole world changed.
Spencer found everything more difficult as soon as he spoke the first time. He didn’t look into my eyes, he didn’t hold my hands, he didn’t get close to me because he thought that talking about his feelings would make me hate him.
It didn’t. On the contrary, it made me love him even more. 
Dealing with your own feelings is hard and dealing with your partner’s feelings, who’s not a big fan of processing them, is even harder. Sometimes people told me that it would’ve been much easier to leave him, to let Spencer deal with his own shit all alone and move on.
What kind of human being thinks that? What kind of person gives up on another person who just learned how to recognize and explain his feelings? What kind of person would let another deal with such a burden on their back, all alone?
Not me. 
“Alright, I’ll call Francis.” - I kissed Spencer’s forehead, looking down at him - “Do you want to go to the bookshop later? We can pick a book and…”
Spencer shook his head, interrupting my sentence. “No. I want to stay at home.”
His fingers gripped me tighter as I tried to sit by his side. “That’s okay. Do you want to take a bath? Or bake something?”
“A bath would be nice.” - his voice was small, shaky - “Can we do that?”
I smiled at him, bringing both my hands on his cheeks. “Of course! Whatever you want, my love.”
Spencer followed me to the bathroom in silence, basking in the excitement that was clearly rolling off each one of my movements. He knew how much I loved taking baths together, because it was one of the most sensual and romantic experiences one could have. 
In prison Spencer never had time alone, especially not in a room like a bathroom.
But now, in the comfort of our own home, Spencer could finally relax in the warm water as I massaged his shoulders and peppered his neck with kisses. He could bask in the happiness he brought me and the love I tried to shower him with, in order to make him feel like he didn’t change. 
Because his love for me didn’t.
Spencer leaned his head to the side, sighing softly as I ran the sponge up and down his neck. Drop of water ran down his skin while the soap covered the soap’s path and I wrapped my free arm around his chest.
“Does that feel nice, hm?”
Spencer nodded, intertwining his fingers with mine over his heart. “I’ve missed doing this with you.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, my love.” - I whispered, closing my eyes as I rested my head against his back while I moved the sponge down to his shoulder - “But…”
Spencer turned his head to the side, never letting my hand go. “But?”
Humming, I pulled away from him and started to bathe him again. “Maybe we should buy a bigger bathtub.”
A low chuckle escaped from his lips. “Hm, maybe we can buy a Jacuzzi.”
I laughed with him, shaking my head. “Spencer, that’s too expensive! But we can book a weekend at the Hot Springs they just opened to have that experience.”
“Yes, please. I want to go away with you for a few days.” 
“I’ll make a few calls later, then.” - I pressed a kiss on the back of his neck - “Okay?”
Spencer didn’t answer me but he gently tugged my arm, forcing me to press against his body one more time. With my cheeks against his back, my whole body was pressed to his while I stayed silent. 
The idea of going to the Hot Springs with Spencer filled me with joy, because it was our first get-away after he came home from prison. I didn’t know if he was going to fully enjoy it, but I was going to try my best to make him forget all the feelings he had within himself.
“Can you sit in front of me?”
Spencer’s voice interrupted my train of thoughts, echoing inside the bathroom.
He couldn’t see me, but I nodded as I stood up from the water. Spencer held my hands in order for me not to slip and fall onto the floor, making sure that I was steady enough to exit the bathtub. 
I didn’t know why he wanted me to sit in front of him, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it. It was probably because he needed to have me closer to him - and by closer, he desperately needed to have me on his thighs just like in the living room.
I wasn’t going to complain.
Spencer helped me get back inside the bathtub, watching me.
Those honey-coloured eyes were staring back at him with all the love and tenderness they’ve been showing me throughout the years, looking at me as if I was Spencer’ most precious possession - and I was, as he kept reminding me each day. 
I brought my hands on his cheeks, leaning forward to kiss his lips while Spencer lifted my hips and gently sat me on his thighs. 
“You look pretty.”
I bumped my nose against his. “Are you trying to get into my panties? That’s shameful, Doctor Reid. I am a lady.”
My words made him laugh as my heart swelled in my chest at the sight: when Spencer laughs, he has this cute, dumb, adorable smile on his lips and the most beautiful dimples on those soft cheeks. 
He was so fucking beautiful and he didn’t know.
“I don’t think I need to have you sitting on my thighs to get into your panties, lady.”
I hummed against his lips, running my fingers through the curls at the base of his neck. “True, you can have me anytime you want.”
Spencer closed his arms around my waist and hid his face in the crook of my neck, breathing in and out through his nose. I kept caressing his hair and playing with his curls, hoping that my words didn’t make him uncomfortable. 
It wasn’t unusual of me to make sexual innuendos at the most inappropriate times, Spencer knew me that well, but… I felt bad for saying that. I knew that Spencer didn’t want to have sex - if he wanted to, he would’ve told me or probably grabbed me by the waist and dragged me to the bedroom.
“I don’t deserve you.”
Shaking my head, I brought my hands down to his face and tilted it upward. “I decide whether you deserve me or not, Spencer.”
His eyes never left mine. “But it’s true. You’re always so good to me, and I haven’t been myself lately. I keep shouting, crying..”
“So? Do you think those things are enough to make me walk away?” - I asked, pressing a kiss over his lips - “I’m not going to leave you just because you’ve experienced something that caused you so much pain. I promised to stay by your side, I’m here for the long run.”
He didn’t have to speak because the way he leaned forward and closed the distance between us told me everything I needed to know. He was apologising through the kiss for claiming he wasn’t enough for me, but I understood his point of view.
Spencer knew he was being difficult to be with, but he also knew how much I loved him and cared for him. I wasn’t going to give up my love for him just because he had to go through such a traumatic experience. 
I was willing to do anything in my power to help him, even if it would’ve taken me years to get him back.
But Spencer never went away. He was still himself underneath that glass shell. 
He was still the man I fell in love with, just a bit bruised.
“I love you, Spencer. You know that, right?”
“Yes, I know.” - he replied with no hesitation - “But I really don’t understand how you manage to stay with me.”
I raised my brows, pulling away from him. “Did you forget what I just said?”
“Sometimes love is not enough.”
My heart broke at the pain in his voice. 
“Not in my case, my love.” - I reminded him, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip - “In my case, love is more than enough. I’m with you because I love you and I don’t think I can survive without you, honestly.”
Spencer kissed my thumb. “That’s not healthy.”
“Drinking almost six cups of coffee in one morning is not healthy either, but you do it anyway.”
“Actually, four or five cups of coffee a day…”
Interrupting him with another kiss on the lips, I huffed. “Spencer.”
He chuckled, running his fingers up my back. “Sorry. It’s just… hard for me to understand why you would want to be with me when I’m being like this.”
“I’m with you because I’m in love with you.” - I answered him - “I’m with you because the day I agreed to be yours, I promise you I’d do anything for you. And I’m not going to give up on you just because you think you’re difficult.”
Spencer looked down, sliding his hands over my thighs.
“You’re not being difficult, Spencer. You’re traumatised, there’s a big difference.”
“I’m scared that I will push you away because of what I’ve been through.”
I shook my head, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m doing the best that I can to be with you, Spencer. I know that I’m not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, so I can’t give you medical help, but I’m willing to support you and be with you every step of the way. That’s what a partner does.”
Spencer released a sigh as the water inside the bathtub moved under us. 
“I love you.”
I kissed his lips. “I love you too, more than words can say.”
In silence, I washed his curls with my strawberry shampoo. Spencer didn’t complain, keeping his eyes closed the whole time as he basked in the kindness of my touch over his scalp, his shoulders, his chest, his face. 
I took your time to rinse off the shampoo and the soap off his body, to make sure he was clean and felt like it as well. 
I couldn’t catch a glimpse of his thoughts, but I knew that at that moment Spencer felt safe in my arms. The way his body moved underneath mine made me understand that he didn’t want to let me go, that he was grateful to have me by his side and that he was going to do anything to be okay.
To get through this moment of his life. 
When I was done with his bath, I cleaned myself and got out of the bathtub with his hands in mine. I struggled to move inside the bathroom as Spencer kept me close to his body the whole time, not daring to step away for a second.
It felt like I had a koala attached to my back, but I never once complained.
Spencer’s skin against mine felt perfect.
Following me to the bedroom, Spencer left his phone on the nightstand while I pushed the blankets down. He was looking at me the whole time, admiring how my naked body looked under the faint lights of the bedroom. 
There was nothing sexual in what he was doing, even though I was naked and not afraid to show every part of me. I became so used to his eyes and his hands on me that when Spencer took a step back, I felt lonely.
I suddenly missed the warmth of his fingers on my waist and the hardness of his chest pressed to my back.
“I want to stop thinking for a while.”
I looked over to him, laying down on the bed. “How can I help, my love?”
Spencer didn’t speak, sitting on the edge of the bed. He twisted the little curls right behind his neck, with his eyes looking elsewhere. He was trying to gather the right words on his tongue.
“There is something, but…”
“Anything for you.” I frowned when he didn’t look at me
Lifting myself up, I crawled closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck from behind so that my chin was pressed over his shoulder. I left an open-mouthed kiss on the side of his neck. 
“I’d do anything to make you feel better, my love.”
Spencer turned to his side, looking at me before gently grabbing my hand. Our fingers locked together as he looked to the window right in front of us: he was still silent, probably pondering the words and picking the better ones. 
I knew what he was silently telling me with the way he behaved, but I needed the words to come out of his lips. I needed Spencer to be honest and fully in control of the situation, because I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 
Spencer brought our joined hands to his chest. “I don’t know how to ask this.”
I crawled closer to him until I was sitting, again, on his thighs. Our hands were still locked together, but Spencer moved them from his chest to mine and slowly, he pushed them down right above my belly button.
It was clear what he wanted, and I understood how difficult it was to ask for that kind of comfort in such a moment but I was willing to help him. 
I had to do all the talking, I wanted him to feel safe. And I needed him to know that I would’ve done anything for him.
“Do you want to make love to me?”
Spencer looked up at me as if I finally put a voice to his thoughts. Nodding his head, his lips touched mine as our hands separated. 
My fingers immediately travelled up to his neck as I kissed him even harder, hoping that the love I was pouring into the kiss could be felt. I needed Spencer to know how much I loved him, how much I cared about him.
Spencer deserved to know every emotion I felt for him.
By the way he laid back down on the bed, with his hands pressed to my back so that our chests couldn’t separate, Spencer hinted at me that he felt everything.
Every beat of my heart, every breath I took, every smile and laugh… They all belonged to him. 
There wasn’t a single part of my body that didn’t belong to him.
It didn’t take long for our bodies to connect, with me still sitting on his thighs and Spencer’s staring at me with those sweet, honey coloured eyes. I tried my best to stay still as Spencer brought his hands behind his neck, smiling at the sight of my body tightening all around him. 
I moved as slow as I could, kissing his lips and whispering how much I loved him while Spencer couldn’t do nothing but take all of me, feel my body welcome him and show him that nothing changed between us. 
We were still the same old us, wrapped in our own love bubble that nobody was going to burst - prison didn’t, Spencer understood that as I praised his name, whining in pure ecstasy the more our kisses became erratic and his hands flew on my waist.
His fingers dug into my skin, leaving the same marks my mouth was peppering his neck with. I painted his skin the way he painted mine, owning his body the way his was owning mine. 
I made sure to remind Spencer of how good I felt as he looked at me completely breathless, struggling to move his eyes off me. I didn’t want him to - he deserved to know that he was still able to make me crumble, to make me whine his name, to make me his all over again. 
Moans spilled from my lips like a chorus of prayers while Spencer kissed my throat. 
He dragged his nails up to my thighs, whispering my name in that soft tone I loved more than anything in the world. He looked breathtaking, just like every night I’ve spent on top of him, underneath him, by his side, all around him. 
We were one, that night.
With our eyes locked, I felt the euphoria crashing through my body as soon as his warmth filled me until I couldn’t take it anymore. I struggled to kiss Spencer while I let my pleasure blind me to the point I didn’t know where I started and Spencer ended, but I didn’t mind.
His hands were all over me, touching every inch of my skin as his eyes closed. Tears fell down his cheeks and mixed with mine, clashing onto our chests while we collapsed against one another. 
Still enthralled in our pleasure and our love bubble, we clung to each other as if we were pathetic grass in the middle of a tornado. A perfect metaphor of our life ever since his sentence, ever since he got locked him and I stayed out, waiting for him in our bed, in our shared home. 
But we were free, that night. 
We were with one another, because Spencer came back to me. 
He was still mine, he has always been mine even when his brain told him that I didn’t want him anymore, that I wouldn’t be able to be happy with a man like him by my side. 
When the air filled our lungs again, I rolled off his body. 
His right hand immediately clung to mine, with his fingers intertwined with mine. 
“I love you,” Spencer blurted out.
I turned to the side, looking at him. “I love you more, my love.”
Brushing the back of his free hand to his cheek, Spencer cuddled closer to me. His nose pressed to the side of my throat while his whole body shuddered, as more tears spilled from those beautiful eyes I kissed. 
I hugged him and held him as tightly as I could, caressing with the tip of my fingers his cheeks, his lips, his nose, his forehead. He kissed the skin he bit before as I sighed, holding back the tears. 
I hated to see him so broken, and I hated not being able to help him just by snapping my fingers. I knew it was going to be a long and difficult process, but I was going to stay by his side every step of the way. 
“Thank you.”
“For what, my love?”
Spencer looked up at me and his nose twitched. “For making me feel like a human being who deserves to be loved.”
I was going to turn this into my life’s mission.
With a weak smile, I closed the distance between our lips. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 16 days
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
2K notes · View notes
strawbeerossi · 6 months
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The Ballad Of Dr. Reid
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial
Word Count: 1.9K
Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking. 
In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.
He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.
You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.
It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips. 
What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.
His hands on-
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you. 
“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today. 
The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.
There was no clean getaway.
“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”
Fuck.
Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”
“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.” 
He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class. 
Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university. 
“Really?” 
“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke. 
There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.” 
The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment. 
“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his. 
You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.
The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down. 
“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point. 
The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips. 
“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.
This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut. 
“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.
His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.
“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating. 
With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open. 
“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded. 
“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan. 
As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.
There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.
Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.
Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did. 
As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Deal.”
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4K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 4 months
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All I Need
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Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:
Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making
words: 2077
A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲
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“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”
SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.
He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.
"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.
He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.
But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.
Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.
Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.
Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.
You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.
As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.
Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless. 
The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me." 
Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.
He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."
Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"
The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."
A whine broke out of you.
"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."
You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.
Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.
The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.
"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"
You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."
He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."
When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.
They were so full of love.
And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.
You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.
"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.
You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.
"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."
His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.
There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.
"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.
He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"
Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.
"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."
You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"
Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.
Marry me.
You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?
And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.
You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.
You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.
"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."
He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."
His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.
"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."
A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.
You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.
He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion. 
And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.
.
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weehelers · 1 year
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IN RUINS
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PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader
SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?
“ what happened?” hotch says standing infront of the big white board that had some very gruesome pictures of 5 victims splayed out on a park bench. he’s standing tall and strong with his hands crossed in his dark grey suit. he’s looking at you and spencer, who’s walking in right behind you slamming the door close.
“ It’s her fault.” spencer says quickly moving to the other side of the room opposite you, trying to get as far away from you as possible.
you take a deep breath in trying your absolute hardest not to roll your eyes and cross your hands in annoyance and disappointment. “ it’s not my fault reid-”
“ woah woah what the heck happened?” morgan says pushing himself back in the precinct chair watching you and spencer. he looks at spencer, he sees the strong look of disgust and annoyance spencer is shooting at you. he looks at you, he notices you looking at spencer with a disappointed look.
“ she told the unsubs family we are after the unsub-” spencer spits out looking over at hotch, waiting for him to yell at you or lecture you.
“ wait spence we don’t even know who the unsub is. what do you mean?” jj says turning her head to look at spencer confusion written on her face. “ exactly! thank you jj!” you reply throwing your hands up.
“ michael miller is our unsub hotch.” spencer says completely ignoring your attempt to reason with him, his eyes stay on hotch waiting for him to snap at you or just lecture you. “ wait a minute i thought michael miller had a solid alibi.” morgan says laying back in his chair resting his arms on the arm rests. “ he does have a solid alibi it checks out-” spencer cuts you off. “ it does not check out!” spencer says.
“ yes it does! hotch we asked his dad who confirmed his son came home at 8:30 pm from football practice.” you say growing impatient looking at hotch, hotch’s eyebrows are furrowed tightly. his arms are still crossed listening to you and spencer bicker back and fourth.
“ just because his dad showed the tiniest bit of concern about his son when the fbi showed up to his doorstep does not make him a reliable source, just because you never had a dad who showed any bit of concern and now when you finally see a dad care about their kid does not mean you should not fall into their trap just because you never had a trap to fall into.” spencer spits out finally looking at you.
he watches as your expression hardens. he watches as humiliation and embarrassment fill your once determined eyes, the determined eyes who tried to reason with spencer at-least 4 minutes ago. 4 minutes, that’s how long it takes for your perspective of someone to change. he watches as your eyebrows tremble, a habit you have when your trying to fight back tears. he watches as your throat trembles too, probably trying to fight back that agonising choke you get when your about to cry.
the entire room goes quiet. spencers gaze remains on you, slowly watching your soul shatter because of his words. your gaze remains on spencer, slowly feeling your soul shatter because of his words.
the door that spencer slammed close 4 minutes ago opens, rossi and emily walking in. “ michael millers alibi checks out. we’ve got pictures of him at football practice from 5pm to 8:25pm. he wouldn’t have had the time to commit the murders.” rossi says opening the door for emily. “ also his teammates described him as an extrovert and outgoing which is not what we profiled the unsub to be.” emily says with her hands inside her pockets nodding looking at everyone surrounding the table.
“ i feel as though we interrupted something.” rossi says eyeing everyone in the room raising an eyebrow in confusion. he could feel the tension. emily could too. which is why she immediately looks over at morgan for answers. morgan looks at her for a split second before returning his gaze on you.
“ y/n-” spencer attempts. he tries to bring himself to take a step towards you, but it’s like his words somehow built a barrier between you and him that he now can’t even physically cross. or maybe he’s just scared that if he takes a step towards you, you’ll take a step back. away from him.
you swallow the gut wrenching feeling of tears crawling up your throat. you look down to your converse. “ i’m gonna go…uhm get coffee.” you say turning around immediately walking towards the door. “ excuse me.” you whisper pushing past rossi and emily.
“ oh wonder boy..” garcia says through the tv screen, her bright purple tinted lips which usually wear a bright smile on her face now wearing a frown. her tone disappointed as she presses her heart eye fuzzy emoji pen into her cheek. “ i uhm did my usual background checking on the uhm..list of potential unsubs and a uhm…scott anderson has a sketchy background. i’ve just sent his file to you my pretties.” garcia says stuttering quite a few times finding it hard to sneak her usually bubbly nicknames into the conversation after what had just happened. “ thank you garcia. jj take y/n and check out scott anderson.” hotch says looking at jj his arms finally by his side.
jj nods standing up walking towards the door “ i-i can go” spencer says turning his body towards jj. “ stay.” hotch replies his voice stern and bold. he looks at spencer his eyebrows furrowed.
jj closes the door. “ sit.” hotch says to spencer pointing to the empty seat at the table, spencer slowly walks towards the seat sitting down. “ you shouldn’t have said that spencer.” hotch says crossing his hands. “ hotch-” spencer attempts but is quickly cut off, “ i’m not finished. I get it. your worried spencer. your scared-”
“ hotch-” spencer is cut off once again. “ you may think your hiding it well spencer but your not. we know the unsub is targeting female victims which have similar features to l/n. if your too close to the case spencer-” it’s spencer’s turn to now cut hotch off. “ but i’m not too close to the case hotch!” spencer replies. he wanted the similarities between you and the victims to only be in his head because he wanted only him, himself to notice the similarities between you and the victims. you both have the same hair color, hair length, both considered to be attractive, both have similar personalities, and similar taste in clothing. he didn’t want it to be true. but now he knows that they are, and they’re not just in his head he’s even more worried.
“ your stuttering spencer. you do that when your worried or nervous.” emily says pulling a chair from the table. spencer shoots his eyes away from hotch to emily’s. his gaze softens a bit, emily’s tone wasn’t like hotchs. it wasn’t as stern or bold. it was rather understanding and gentle. “ i just cant control myself around her.” spencer says looking down at the picture of the fourth victim who had been wearing the exact same pair of converse your wearing now. “ well your going to have to learn how to control yourself pretty boy. you shouldn’t have said that.” morgan says looking at spencer. spencer sighs hiding his face in his hands. “ i just..god i’m so stupid.” spencer groans rubbing his tired eyes.
“ stupidity is what ended my third marriage.” rossi says crossing his hands leaning against the bulletin board with a small chuckle, morgan looks at rossi and laughs. “ well thank god pretty boy isn’t married. he’d be the new rossi.” morgan says tilting his head to the side looking at spencer trying to lighten the mood, spencer who still has his head in his hands. there’s a million thoughts going through his head, all of them are about you. all of them are about how he should apologize. is he even allowed to apologize? will you let him apologize to you? would you accept his apology? what if you didn’t? did he just ruin his friendship with you? no screw friendship, he doesn’t just want to be friends. he wouldn’t be as sensitive as he is to this case if he just wanted to remain friends. he’s in love with you. spencer reid is in love with you. and he just potentially ruined any slight chance of ever having you know that he loves you. just because he’s stupid and didn’t think before he spoke.
“ are you okay?” jj says both hands on the steering wheel turning around to look at you next to her, in the passenger seat. your heads turnt towards the window, your picking at your nails. a habit of yours. you turn to look at jj and nod. “ yeah i’m fine why wouldn’t i be?” you ask tilting your head to the side with a confusing smile. you know exactly why your not okay. but for some reason, you just can’t bring yourself to actually be upset over it. what’s there to be upset about? what spencer said is true. he’s not wrong. why are you making excuses for him? what he said was not okay. totally not okay. why do you have to make excuses for every male figure in your life for when they’ve done something wrong? why do you always make them the victim and you the villain. you just don’t wanna lose them right? because you know that if your the victim and their the villain they’ll never apologise and the entire relationship will disappear, it always does.
“ what spencer said-” jj is talking in that tone, that tone that she would speak in whenever something was wrong. in a motherly kind of tone. you immediately shake your head, “ it’s- it’s fine jj really, i don’t care. can we just please forget it ever happened? lets just work on the case.” you say running a hand through your hair biting your lower lip trying to stop your voice from trembling, you know when your about to cry and you have that heavy feeling in your throat? you swallow it hard. you turn your head to look at the window not waiting for a response from jj. jj clears her throat, “ no yeah of course.” she nods smiling turning her head back around.
“ this should be it…” jj mumbles stopping the car, parked infront of a 2 story cabin. you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. “ it looks like no one’s home, there’s no car. we profiled that the unsub would have a van or a truck..” jj says closing the car door looking at the house. “ maybe he wouldn’t leave something so valuable to him outside, to the eye of the public. he’s possessive he thinks the entire world revolves around him he probably thinks someone would try to steal it.” you reply reaching in your pocket for your id. jj doing the same thing. you two walk to the front door, you in the front,
you knock on the door. you put your hand against your hip waiting for the door to open. “ we should ask the neighbours. maybe they’ll know-” you knock on the door again. “ scott anderson. fbi.” you say knocking on the door again. jj puts both of her hands on her waist. “ looks like he’s not home-” your cut off by the door swinging open.
you immediately turn your head around. “ scott anderson?” you ask looking at the man infront of you. you know it’s scott anderson, penelope had already sent his id picture on the drive over. he looks at you, then looks at jj. “ who are you..” he says looking directly at jj. “ i’m agent l/n with the fbi and this is agent jareau. do you mind if we come inside?” you ask smiling holding up your id.
he doesn’t even bother looking at your id. “ yeah whatever.” he moves to the side, making room for you and jj. you nod turning around to look at jj. she nods. you step inside jj following you.
“ do you live alone?” you ask analysing the house, its organised. weird for someone that’s his age. “ uhm yeah i do. what’s wrong with that?” he asks crossing his hands. you chuckle, “ no no nothings wrong with that, i also lived alone when i was 17.” you reply smiling. “ i’m 19.” he says looking at you, eyeing you up and down smiling. “ your pretty organised for a 19 year old.” jj says raising an eyebrow also crossing her hands smiling. “ guess i was just raised that way.” he replies rubbing his lips together. you nod. “ how were you raised scott..if you don’t mind me asking.” you say looking around the house. “ yeah scott how did you manage to score such a house at your age. do you work?” jj asks grabbing a picture frame. “ no i don’t work-” he turns to look at jj. “ put that down.” he snaps speed walking to jj. you immediately reach for your gun.
“ right..sorry. you don’t like people touching your stuff.” jj replies throwing her hands up in defeat. he snatches the picture frame. he grabs it caressing it gently, jj looks at you with wide eyes. you raise an eyebrow in confusion. “ scott. why do you have a picture of my colleague framed?” jj asks looking at the frame scott’s holding. your eyes widen.
“ oh god oh god. where’s y/n and jj?” penelope says aggressively tapping on her keyboard. “ what? what’s wrong?” spencer is the first to respond shooting up from the office chair just at the mention of your name. “ they’re at scott anderson’s why?” hotch says turning around, away from the white board to the tv. garcia starts tearing up, “ i-i did some deep digging and scott anderson has a blog about y/n..” garcia says in a shaky tone. no. no. no. no. no not again please.
his heart stopped for a split second. his hand start sweating. the air has been sucked out of his lungs. why is it so hard to breathe? why is there no air to breathe? there’s a million thoughts running through his head, they’re still about you. but now they’re worse. your in danger. your with the unsub. the unsub who has already killed five people. your in the same house with the unsub. the unsub who has a blog dedicated to you. and the last time you saw spencer you were teary eyed. no it can’t be the last time. no. please be safe.
his sweaty shaky hands reach for his phone. he clicks on your contact. hotch grabs his phone and immediately calls jj. spencer immediately puts the phone up against his ear. it rings. rossi and emily immediately stand up, “ penelope send us the address to scott’s house now.” emily says walking to the door. it’s still ringing. spencer starts biting his nails. his hearts pounding. the ringing of the phone case is haunting him. what is happening on the other side of the phone. why aren’t you answering. you always answer the phone. why is it still ringing? y/n why aren’t you answering.
“ god damn it!” spencer shouts into the phone as it keeps ringing. morgan stands up, “ hotch we gotta go.” he says standing up shoving his phone into his pocket.
the ringing stops. spencer’s heart stops. his breathing stops. everyone in the room looks at spencer waiting for any kind of confirmation. “ y/n you’ve gotta get out of there with jj!” spencer says stuttering with a shaky voice. hes scared. hes so so scared. hes never been more scared in his life. it’s quiet. why is it quiet? why aren’t you answering? what’s wrong. god y/n.
“ hey mom.” you reply. spencer takes a deep breath in. he stops biting his nails. he wipes his wet fingers on his pants. his hearts racing. your in danger. why are you calling him mom if your not in danger. oh god. he feels like he can’t breathe again. he can’t focus. he can’t do this. he can’t do this. he can’t do this without you. breathe spencer. she’s in danger spencer. she’s all that matters.
“ y/n. god i…” he chokes. “ you already figured it out didn’t you.” he says his throat feeling scratchy. he hears you giggle on the other side of the phone, your laugh erupts the butterflies in his stomach. under any other circumstances he would absolutely hate the butterflies in his stomach and would be mad at you for making him feel such way. but now they bring a sense of comfort, they make him feel normal for a split second. that this is not that big of a deal, he’s just calling the girl he really likes and he got butterflies from hearing her beautiful laughs.
“ yeah of course. i called aunt lizzie for her birthday mom i’m not stupid.” you respond. god your voice is so beautiful, but he can hear it. he can fear the slight fear in your voice. maybe other people wouldn’t hear it, but he can. spencer can. and it’s killing him. it’s tearing his heart apart. it’s making his legs shake. “ d-did he hurt you- is he gonna hurt you?” spencer says gripping his jeans tightly. he hears you laugh again, “ yeah mom.” you say.
he feels his legs going weak.
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sundrop-writes · 21 days
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Careful - Chapter One
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(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 
Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 
… 
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 
It was you. 
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 
You had a son. 
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 
And his birth date was… fuck. 
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 
One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 
Four years, eight months, and two days. 
It wasn’t difficult math. 
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 
What the fuck was going on? 
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 
“Did you find something?” 
… 
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 
It could definitely work. 
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 
It had been four years. 
JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 
“One thing at a time, alright?” 
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 
And now the two of you likely had a child together. 
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 
You were breath-taking. 
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 
The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 
… 
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 
It was a perfect night. 
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 
“Interesting.” You replied. 
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 
“And see-” 
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 
It was perfect. You were perfect. 
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 
But Spencer was nothing like that. 
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
“That was… wow.” He sighed. 
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 
“Well, I - you - wow.” 
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 
Back then - everything had been perfect. 
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
2K notes · View notes
tinyluvs · 7 months
Note
ok so after reading about Spencer’s first blowjob…what do you think about the first time he ever eats out? 👀 man’s all “oh I read about this hold on” like it’s fkin quantum theory and he’s intent on trying all these different “techniques” he’s read about but then he tastes reader for the first time and just goes absolutely feral like a man starved 🫣
i see the vision, i gotchu, enjoy my angel!!! this carries on from !! this prompt !! but you don’t have to read it *mdni!!*
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time moves slower as you rest your head on spencer's hip, humming deeply when his fingers press against your scalp, "you okay, angel?" he asks once his post orgasm haze passes, the fog around his brain finally clearing after god only knows how long
"i'm great baby," you reply, lifting your head up to look at him, smiling softly when he traces a knuckle over your cheek bone. he looks at you, thinking, you can practically see cogs turning behind his eyes, "out with it,"
a breath catches in your boyfriend throat, "can i return the favour?" he asks, voice barely a whisper, "please," fingers ghost over your neck, pressing only over your pulse
“spence,” you breathe a little harder, knowing he can feel your heartbeat racing under his fingers, “please, don’t think you have to,”
the insides of your thighs are already damp and sticky, coated with your arousal from your previous activities. you clench slightly, not so subtly rubbing your thighs together
spencer sits up, his head shaking slightly as he does, “no i want to, please honey,” he presses, leaning over your body to kiss the corner of your mouth, “please”
“okay,” you answer simply, words failing you as he uses his body to push against yours, pressing you down into the couch cushions
air gets trapped in between your cheeks, puffed out while you watch your boyfriend hike your shirt up, only enough to expose your stomach and hips before he dips, dragging his lips over your ribs all too slowly
“can i?” he mumbles as he gets to your hips and your head tilts, confusion taking over as you’d been to occupied watching him instead of feeling his fingers teasing at the waistband of your shorts
spencer looks up at you in time to watch you nod, eyes wide and mouth slack, the previously trapped air escaping in a gentle whimper. he lifts your hips slightly, dragging your shorts and panties down your legs, letting them drop onto the floor, out of sight
“hey, are you sure?” you ask again, knuckle hooking under his chin to turn his attention to you. he turns in your hold, kissing your palm before sliding further down between your legs
big hands slide up the back of your thighs, blunt nails barely digging into your skin as he pushes your legs apart, spreading you open inches away from his face
spencer's tongue darts across his bottom lip, his gaze focused on where you're already wet, "i, uhm," he whispers, "read about how to do this,"
you can tell he's nervous, a slight frown forming over his forehead though it doesn't stick around when you smooth over it gently with your thumb, "you read about it? angel, it's okay if you don't get it right straight away" you assure him as he looks up at you briefly
the anticipation is killing you, though you'd never tell him. having him between your thighs, eyes dark while he takes the situation and you in, has you dripping, a soft whine passing your lips as you feel it happen
your boyfriend snaps out of his state of staring at the noise, he sighs gently, happily, before surging forwards. immediately your back arches off of the couch as his lips press against your folds
"fuck, spence," you gasp, fingers tangling into his hair to hold him there. he parts his lips before dragging his tongue up your centre, circling cruelly around your clit, "oh my god," you moan, loudly
this spurs spencer on further, his body pushes up further between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs apart while he eats you out like a starved man, his eyes shut, lashes tickling his cheeks
distantly you wonder if he has done this before but your ability to think leaves you and makes you helpless and completely at spencer's mercy. he pulls away from you, barely, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.
while he uses his shoulders to keep your thighs spread, his hands become free and you feel them before you see them. his thumb dips over your sticky hole before sliding upwards, bumping against your clit
"please baby, don't tease," you whine, chest heaving and fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back towards where you need him and he obliges, leaning in to kiss your clit before sucking on it lightly
every moan, whine and whimper that leaves your body has spencer working harder, spit dribbling from the corners of his mouth and over the inside of your thighs as he starts to hum and moan against you
spencer sucks hard on your clit, obscene noises fill the room as he leans into you, one hand on your hip holding you down and the other stroking your thigh, moving far too slowly towards your cunt
you hold your breath, feeling his fingers tease at you, your attempts to clench around the tips of his fingers don't go unnoticed. he gives you what you want slowly, barely pressing a finger into you before pulling away again
"oh god," you whimper, hips rolling underneath his forearm. spencer hums against you, sending vibrations rumbling over your clit , "this is your first time?" you question as your thighs start to shake
"yeah," spencer replies, taking a break to breathe, his eyes focused on his own fingers. without warning he presses a finger into you, his gaze traveling up your body as you cry out and clench around him
"fuck, i'm not going to last," you pant whilst throwing your head back. your nails dig into his shoulder, guiding him back towards your body as heat starts to form in the pits of your stomach
slowly spencer fucks his finger into you, pulling out and pushing back in before adding another, again, without warning. the stretch burns in the best way possible as he works you open
"i love you," spencer mumbles, not giving you a chance to reply as he delves back into you, his tongue lapping over your clit with earnest. your orgasm builds embarrassingly fast, thighs shaking, back arching away from the couch while your brain turns to mush
"oh, fuck, i'm gonna-," you cry out, letting your thighs close around spencer's body, "i'm gonna come baby," you whimper loudly, stomach clenching underneath spencer's arm
he doubles down, fingers speeding up slightly, his knuckles bumping either side of your hole as wet, sticky sounds fill the room, "uh huh," he hums against you and that sends you hurtling over the edge
you come hard, harder than you ever have before, loudly whimpering as your body shakes and your thighs close around spencer's head, trapping him there while you pant, eyes clamped shut
"baby, stop," you almost cry, pulling on spencer's hair to move him away from your body as you start to get overstimulated, "jesus,"
spencer looks incredible, his hair tousled and messy, lips and chin completely soaked with your slick and his cheeks puffed out as he catches his own breath. gently, he slips his fingers from your body, smiling softly to himself as you wrap your own around his wrist
"c'mere," you hum, eyes shutting again as you yank on him, his body toppling down onto of you, his head resting on your chest, "seriously though, that was your first time?"
"yeah," spencer chuckles, his fingers trailing up your rib cage, “definitely won't be the last though,"
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thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!
❥ spencer reid masterlist !!
a/n tell me if you see any mistakes, i proofread but really fuckin badly !! much appreciated and hope ur having a great day, mwah
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thebirthdaysparty · 20 days
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SPENCER REID CRAVED YOU. he had done since the first time he ever got a taste — hair tousled, eyes wide and diluted as he ducked between your thighs again and again. there was a hunger in the way his mouth worked against you, tongue lapping away as though he was never going to experience this again.
"please never- never leave me-" was all he managed to groan as he suckled on your clit, fingers gripping either side of your thighs to keep them parted. to give himself enough space to completely milk you of every ounce of strength and emotion you had. and you took it; back pressed against the mattress as your fingers dug into spencer's scalp, chanting his name between escaped moans.
you were so close, teetering on the edge of explicit bliss as you felt your stomach tighten. his tongue moved around your clit, stroking across it in a way that made you see nothing but stars. spencer could tell that you were close, shaking his head gently from side to side, eyes interlocked with yours as he watched you come undone just from his mouth alone.
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golden1u5t · 1 month
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Spencer fucking the attitude out of the reader🥴🥴🥴and him being like “if you wanted that all you had to do was ask”
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ꨄ pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: you’ve had an attitude with spencer all day long, he finds the one thing that’ll make it go away.
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spencer had a brutal pace going, using such force you didn't think he had in him. he hands gripped your thighs as he held your legs over his shoulders, his hips crashed into the back of your thighs and caused an obscene clapping noise to fill the room.
you chanted his name like it was a mantra as your walls clamped down on his cock, your back arching up off the bed as you got closer to your release. your mind had went completely blank since he started fucking you, the attitude you once had was completely gone.
“this is all you wanted, huh? just wanted me to touch you.” spencer leaned over your body, your legs still over his shoulders, and tucked his head in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping at the flushed skin. his hips struggled to keep up the pace he had set before as he got closer to his own orgasm. “all you had to do was ask, pretty. you know i’ll give you whatever you want.”
"yes!" you gasped, the sound of both of your moans seemed to get louder with every passing second, drowning out the sound of his cock moving against your slick walls. your hand found its way into spencer hair as your orgasm crashed over you, you tugged at it all the way through.
spencer’s head dropped down onto your shoulder as his head started to spin, he pressed himself as deep into you as he could as he started to cum. you let go of his hair as he let out a breath and sat up, letting your legs fall down off of his shoulders. he pressed a kiss to your lips before he pulled out.
"next time, baby, just ask instead of getting upset."
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K
Part two!
After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 
That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 
You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 
It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 
She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 
You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 
The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 
Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 
-X-
The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.
“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.
“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 
“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 
“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 
It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 
She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 
You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 
Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 
As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 
It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 
“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 
“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 
It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  
Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 
A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 
“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 
“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 
“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”
“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”
He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 
-X-
“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 
“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 
You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 
The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 
Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.
It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 
Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.
He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 
“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.
“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 
“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 
“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 
“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”
Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 
“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 
But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  
“She said I would what, beautiful?”
He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 
But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 
“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”
“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 
And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.
“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.
-X-
You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 
Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 
After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 
He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 
In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 
To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 
You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 
“Leaving so soon, princess?”
“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 
“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 
“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 
You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 
He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 
“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 
“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 
His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 
“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 
“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”
“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 
“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 
He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 
He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 
You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 
“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  
“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  
“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 
You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 
“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 
“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 
“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 
-X-
7K notes · View notes
reidmotif · 7 months
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Behind Closed Doors
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Summary: Reader and Spencer are known to be a "tame" couple at work. They get fed up and decide to change how people see them.
Request: Reader and Spencer (in an established public relationship) where they don't do any PDA and you can hardly tell they're a couple. Reader and Spencer get offended, and decide to fool around to get caught.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: Reader POV, established relationship, semi-rough sex, dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, semi-public sex
Word Count: 4.8k
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Dating Spencer Reid, in a word, could honestly be described as a dream. 
When I’d started a career at the BAU, the last thing on my mind was dating, let alone dating my coworker, but Spencer Reid had subtly woven himself into the corners of my heart with his idiosyncrasies and musings, all without my awareness- and when he'd asked me out? Saying ‘yes’ was the easiest thing I’d ever done my entire life. 
He was ridiculously old-fashioned, and I loved it. He insisted on dinner dates and opening doors for me at any possible opportunity, and I was happy to let it happen. He was a gentleman at every turn, and made me feel special in ways no one had before. If I wasn’t already hopelessly infatuated with the man prior to our relationship, I certainly was now.
A year of dating, a year of loving Spencer Reid, and I honestly couldn’t see my life without him. We’d grown our lives around each other in little ways at first, and it resulted in us being tangled up in the sweetest way imaginable. 
And while my memory isn’t as capable as my boyfriend’s, I can recall in perfect clarity about how fucking good he is in bed. It shouldn’t have surprised me like it had the first time we had sex, but when he had me pinned down to his mattress, pounding into me unlike anyone before him, touching me whilst whispering dirty nothings in my ear, I knew I was a goner. It was simply another facet of Spencer Reid that further cemented my enduring captivation to the man. 
Of course, there were rules when it came to our relationship, considering that even for a blissfully happy couple, we still worked together. Spencer loved having his hands on me, whether it was innocent or not, but when it came to the BAU and public displays of affection, there was a mutual understanding between the two of us that some things were simply kept private. 
Which is why as we stood in the bullpen, side-by-side, we exchanged horrified looks when the surprise seminar that morning was about “inappropriate workplace relationships”. To our knowledge, we’d always kept the romance to a minimum in the office, stealing a kiss here and there when no one was around, or a squeeze of the hand, but nothing beyond that. However, as the moderator for the training began, we both sighed a breath of collective relief as she brought up some suspiciously specific scenarios, realizing today’s seminar was not in fact about us, but rather our coworkers, known for their raunchy telephone escapades, two of our coworkers who were most definitely not in a relationship. 
As we trickled out of the room, exchanging giggles about the very awkward display we were made to watch just now, a very mortified Penelope Garcia approached us.
“Who blabbed?” She asked, adorably frantic as Spencer and I simply smiled and shrugged. 
“Wasn’t us.” Spencer said, a bit and gesturing to me and him. He put his hand on my shoulder and I instantly felt relaxed with the comforting weight of him on me. I gave my own chuckle, naturally bringing my hand up to touch Spencer’s as I responded to Penelope. 
“I mean, you and Derek aren’t exactly quiet about what you do over the phone.” I said, a little mischievously. “I mean remember when Strauss picked up and-”  I started, only to be met with Penelope placing a distressed finger over my lips, hurrying to silence me before I finished my sentence. 
“Shh! I thought we promised to never speak of that godforsaken incident ever again!” Penelope whisper-shrieked, only to be met with my grin. 
“My bad.” I say, while trying to soothe Penelope. I then got a little serious, moving from Spencer’s subtle touch to get closer to her.  “It’s not that bad, Pen. I’m sure everyone will forget in due time.” I said, in my most assuring tone. Unfortunately, Penelope didn’t seem very swayed. 
Derek walked to where we were standing and chatting,  coming to protectively wrap his arm around a very miserable looking Penelope. 
“Did I just hear you say ‘it isn’t that bad’?” Derek said, using air quotes for his imitation of me, laughing as he pulled Penelope closer to him. He continued, “Because from where I was, you and boy genius looked pretty worried for a second.” 
Spencer answered a little defensively, “I mean, obviously.” He replied. “We’re the only ones in the BAU in a public relationship and it’s a surprise seminar on inappropriate relationships, why wouldn’t we think it’s about us?” He explained, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head a little. 
“Because you two don’t even look like a couple!” Penelope said, still sorrowful from her unexpected callout. “Of course it’d never be about you two!” 
“What?” I say, now matching Spencer’s defensive tone from before. “It totally could be about us! And we do look like a couple.” I say, crossing my arms and standing beside him now. 
“Sorry pretty girl.” Derek speaks up, “But Penelope is right. I don’t even think I’ve seen the two of you hold hands or kiss around any of us.” 
Spencer sputtered a little at that, “Obviously! We’re at the workplace!” He says, in a higher pitched tone, fortifying his stance against Derek’s allegations. "It's common to not show PDA in professional settings."
“True love waits for nothing, Einstein.” Derek teases, and then he laughs again. “Pipe down, Reid. I’m only joking.” Spencer seemed  to retract his opposing stance reluctantly, but then Derek added, “You and (Y/N) shouldn’t worry about being appropriate in the workplace, you know? You’re both more than proper when you're in or out of here.” He said, winking, speaking with a knowing tone. 
Spencer groaned at that, but before he could retort and deny Derek’s assessment of our relationship, Derek whisked Penelope away, presumably to console her further over today’s events, leaving me and Spencer just standing there. He looked a little on edge, and I placed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it softly. I could instantly sense the words, on some level, had gotten to him, and wanted to nip his self-doubt and nervous spiral in the bud before it could even begin. 
“You know he was just joking, right?” I say, speaking gently. 
“I know.” Spencer responded, a little bitterly. “I just.” He stopped, taking a breath before continuing. “I just hate that’s how they see us, you know?” He says, frowning. 
“Well, trust me, Spence.” I say, in an attempt to cheer him up. “This relationship has been anything but proper from the moment we’ve been together.” I say this with a small smirk, hoping he’d catch onto the scandalous undertones of my words, which he did. 
He smiled a little, before murmuring, “Thanks.” I smiled back, and let my hand drop from his shoulder again. 
“C’mon, we got a case.” I say, and he dutifully followed me into the round-table room, the previous interaction with Derek seemingly wiped away from his mind for the rest of the day. 
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It wasn’t until a few days later, in the comfort of Spencer’s apartment, (which was honestly ours, at this point) where he spoke up about the incident again. He was lazily playing with my hair as I was sprawled on his couch, my eyes closed with my head in his lap, a documentary of Spencer’s choosing playing in the background. Truthfully, I was more focused on his fingers lightly trailing over my scalp, the sensation lulling me into a state of deep relaxation and serenity, rather than the droning voice of the narrator, until his voice broke my thoughts. 
“I just don’t know why Derek would say that.” He remarked, out of nowhere. 
“Say what, baby?” I say, opening my eyes slightly. I tried to remember if we’d mentioned Derek at all tonight, and when my memory came up short, I squinted, trying to think, “What are we talking about, again?” I attempted to actually look at him from my lower angle, reading his expression for any clues. 
“You know.” He says, continuing to play with the silky strands of my loose hair, “The thing about us being a boring couple.” 
Memories of the interaction came to mind, and I nodded and let out a noise of realization. “Ah, yeah. From the sexual harassment seminar.” I closed my eyes again, and laid back in his lap. “What about it, love?” 
“It didn’t bother you?” Spencer commented, and I opened my eyes yet again, to see the face of a man who clearly hadn’t brushed off the comment like I thought he had, days ago. 
“I mean, not really, baby.” I say, carefully, trying to not offend him. “But it’s okay if you felt bothered- but I really do think Derek didn’t mean anything by it.” I say, moving out of his lap so I could better see his face. 
“Yeah, I guess.” He says, quirking his mouth to the side.  “I just hate that they think we’re boring or-” 
“Even though we both know we definitely aren’t?” I say, laughing a bit. 
“Exactly.” He responds, with a little bit of a smile. “I just wish we could somehow, I don’t know. Stick it to them? Does that sound petty?” He says, chuckling now, and rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. 
“Not at all.” I say, quickly. “But it’s not like we can just, you know, start sucking face in the bullpen.” I joke, with a giggle. 
“That we cannot.” He replies, his mood seemingly a little more uplifted from when we began our conversation. “Still.” He says, pursing his lips. 
An idea came to my mind, and I grinned a little at the thought of it. I wanted to make my boyfriend feel better, to let him know at the very least nothing about him bored me in the slightest. 
“Spence.. what if we did anyway?” I say, coming closer to him with an excited lilt in my words. 
“Make out in front of all of our colleagues?” Spencer replies, with a chuckle. “(Y/N), I love you, but no way.”  He says, immediately shutting me down, but I shook my head. 
“No, like more than that.” I respond, quickly, as the gears in my head begin to turn. “What if we like.. pretend to have sex in a closet, let them think they know what’s going on in there, and walk out, totally unscathed.” I continue, a playful glint in my eyes.
It sounded absolutely crazy, but I could tell he was definitely considering it, especially susceptible to an idea like this one after what had happened a few days ago. 
“But we wouldn’t actually be having sex- right?” Spencer says, cautiously. “Just… pretending?” He adds, adorably, biting his lip. 
“Yeah.” I respond, instantly, soothing his worries. “Trust me, having sex in a closet in a federal building seems like a pretty solid fantasy, but I’m okay with leaving that to our imaginations for now.” I say, smiling a little wildly. “So is that you agreeing to it?” I question, looking at him eagerly. 
“I guess it is.” He says, the look on his face now matching the enthusiasm on my own, and he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I immediately melted into him, moving to straddle his lap, smiling into each press of his lips against mine. His hands went to my hips, a broken moan escaping him as I felt myself move against a fast-forming bulge underneath me. He breathlessly pulled back, licking his lips. 
“Mm." He said, breathing a little heavier now. "What would you say to a practice round for our pretend session tomorrow- you know, just to get it right?” He murmurs, feeling his cocky grin against my lips. 
“Do you even have to ask?” I retort, smirking. 
My words barely left my mouth before he flipped me onto the couch, leaving me giggling delightfully and sighing with pleasure, as I felt him start a trail of wet, hot kisses down my neck, eliciting soft moans and whimpers that only spurred him on to do more to me. 
I closed my eyes with a dazed grin on my face as he continued his actions, knowing he’d take care of me tonight.  Spencer Reid, without a doubt,  was definitely the best boyfriend I’d ever had. 
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That morning in his apartment, Spencer was all smiles, even more touchy than he was normally if that was possible. He languidly wrapped his arms around my waist as I brushed my teeth, placing little kisses on the back of my neck as I tried not to laugh with toothpaste in my mouth.  
“Someone’s happy today.” I spoke, or at least attempted to speak, whilst he  attacked any exposed skin of mine with his soft lips. 
“Mm.” He grumbled deeply behind me, never once letting up on the task he’d delegated to himself: to somehow kiss every inch of my body before we even left the apartment.
“Maybe I’m excited about what we’ll be doing today.” He replies, clearly very satisfied with what we’d decided the previous night. 
There was a closet in Quantico, just off the hallways. It wasn’t an active hallway bustling with people, but oftentimes agents would come and go through there, and we both decided it provided just enough privacy so that people wouldn’t actually try to come into the closet- but open enough that at least one or two people were bound to hear us, and hopefully ease any concerns anyone had about Spencer and I being a “proper” couple. 
I giggled. “You know Spence.” I move away a little to spit my toothpaste out and rinse my mouth. “You’re a bit more of an exhibitionist than I pegged you for.” I said, a giggle in my voice. 
He wrapped me up in his arms, bringing me as close as he possibly could. “Sure I am.” He mumbled in a sarcastic tone, kissing the top of my head. 
I smile, speaking into his chest, trying to hold back my laughter.  “I don’t hear you denying it.”
“Shhh.” He said, before letting me go with a smile on his face. “We’re not even actually having sex in the closet. It doesn’t count.” He called out, biting his lip with a boyish smile, the type that made me want to jump his bones here and now.
“Whatever you say!” I respond, with a sing-song voice, flashing him a grin before going to get changed for work. 
Throughout the day, I could see Spencer just itching to carry out our plan. He kept making those eyes at me and I’d shake my head, silently communicating that now wasn’t the time. I could see him grumble and lean back in his desk chair, barely able to focus on his work. I giggled at the thought. My genius boyfriend, unable to do simple tasks because the idea of faking sex to get back at our coworkers rendered him stupid. 
As Emily would say, “An IQ of 187 slashed to 60.” 
Finally, after lunch, and less eyes were on either of us, I subtly caught his gaze, tilting my head in the general direction of the closet, and he nearly leapt from his seat. I silently thanked the Gods above that he didn’t draw anyone’s attention, what with how eager he was acting, as we quietly made our way towards the closet. As soon as we were out of the bullpen, and the long, empty hallways of the BAU, he laughed as he unexpectedly stole a long, passionate kiss from me, his lips pressing against mine insistently. I pulled away after a few seconds, thrilled. 
“What was that for?” I ask, with a dazed grin on my face as he continues to walk me to the place of our imminent rendezvous, nearly dragging me there by a firm grip of his hand in mine. 
“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Spencer retorts, smugly. 
“Oh, you can kiss her.” I responded eagerly. “I am not complaining whatsoever. Just curious." I said, squeezing his hand lovingly.
He quickly pressed his lips against mine one more, so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. "I'm just excited, I think." He responded. There was a puerile smile on his face, as he led me further and further away from any of our colleagues and towards our final destination. 
As he opened the closet door, he shot me one final look.
“You’re actually okay with this, right?” He asks, surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his previously excited nature. 
“Second thoughts?” I respond, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no.” He said, laughing. “I just want to be certain that you’re good with this.” He implores, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles absentmindedly. He gave a sigh, biting his lip.  “I know you’re doing this for me and I-” 
I immediately silence him through interruption. “Spencer. I want to do this.” I said, softly. “Please.” I add, conveying that while, yes, this was for him in some roundabout way, pretending like I wasn’t absolutely exhilarated at what we were about to do would be a gross misrepresentation of the situation. 
He seemed to relax at that, grinning a little bit. He let out a little breath of air. 
“Come on.” I urged. “Don’t you wanna make sure the team never calls us dull again?” I said, smirking and egging him on the best I could. 
He nearly shoved me into the closet as he opened the door, with a laugh. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
He placed me in front of him, and we stood face to face in the cramped space. I could feel his breath on me, hear the beat of his heart and I knew that there was no part of me that was hesitant about this. On the other hand, Spencer seemed a bit.. confused. His smile faded, before he knit his eyebrows together. I watched him bite his lip, before pressing them together in a straight line. 
“How do you fake sex in a closet?” He paused. “Do we just.. moan?” He said, tentatively, looking to me for direction.
I decided to just go for it, giving an almost pornographic moan. “Oh, yeah! Right there, oh!-” 
He quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. “(Y/N), what the-” 
I removed his hand with a giggle. “Come on." I urged. "Be loud, it’s what’ll work.” I say, grinning, before letting out a higher pitched moan, attempting to recreate what I normally sounded like during sex. “Yes, Spencer! Please! Please!” I moaned, closing my eyes and really getting into what we were attempting to recreate. 
I could feel Spencer watching me, and heard him breathe before moaning out himself. “Yeah, you like that, you whore?” He groaned out, a little flatly, but groaned out convincingly, nonetheless and I could tell he was enjoying himself. 
“Yes! Yes!” I nearly screamed out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” I moaned, in an exaggerated manner. “More, please!” I said, trying to beg just as much as I did when Spencer was actually fucking me. 
We continued this back and forth for a minute or two, and I grinned internally. Anyone who happened to walk past the closet would’ve definitely heard our faked passion, and to be honest, I was into it. Having people know how well Spencer treated me, it made my heart jump, and I could feel myself clenching around nothing at the thought. My eyes were shut, as to immerse myself in the fantasy more, and my moans only got louder, pitchier, more desperate with every passing second. 
It wasn’t a few moments later that I realized that I was the only one making noise, Spencer going quiet, and I noticed the absence of his soft breathing that was there previously. I opened my eyes, to find an incredibly wide-eyed, embarrassed Spencer, looking right at me. 
“Shit, I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said, awkwardly shuffling. “I didn’t think- it’s just- your moans sound so good and-” 
I knit my brows in confusion at his words before my eyes trailed down, revealing the strained fabric of his slacks, his cock tenting inside them at an alarming rate. His eyes met mine as I scanned them back up to look at him, and he stifled a groan. “Fuck.” He murmured. 
“Look, you can just leave.” He said, a little defeated. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I can't go out like this." He said this while already moving away from the door, motioning for me to leave. 
My lips parted as I shook my head. “No.” I whispered, stepping even closer. “Fuck me. Let me help you." I murmur, placing both my hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly, before starting to kiss his neck sweetly, with feather-light touches.  
Spencer rolled his eyes. “(Y/N). Don’t tease me right now. Especially right now.” He whined out, craning his neck as I planted soft kisses on the skin. The rest of his body leaned into me, desperately seeking the relief my touch brought him. 
When I began sucking at a particularly sensitive spot of his, I earned a throaty moan from him, his head thrown back, and his hands grabbing my waist and pressing our bodies flush together. 
"I'm not teasing." I mumble against him. "I want you."
“Fuck. I’m serious. I’m this close to just-” He spoke, his voice low, but I didn’t want him to be logical about this. I wanted this now. I  interrupted his words with a deep, long kiss.
It seemed to work, his lips crashing into mine, over and over again, like this would be the last time we could ever savor the taste of the other again. As grabbed my face, lips moving ferociously over mine, his grip shifted so he could pin me up against the wall. I moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed down, squeezing the fat of my hip unexpectedly, and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, lazily exploring my mouth with his own. When we finally pulled back for air, I whispered against his lips. 
“Do it. Please.” I croaked, already grabbing the fabric of his shirt. “Please, fuck me Spencer. Use me. I need you right now.” I wanted to sound as desperate as I felt, the heat between my legs growing unbearable at this point, my clit already wildly throbbing with need. 
“We’re in a closet. Someone could catch us." He quietly groaned out, but I could see the restraint leaving his body with every moment he looked at me. He looked wrecked already, hair strown about messily, his lips red and swollen, chest moving up and down. The only sounds in the closet at this point were my pants and his heavy breathing to accompany it. He took another look at me, my eyes blown out and pleading for him, and it seemed like every barrier in his body suddenly broke.
With no warning,  he spun me around so my back would be towards him, pushing me up against the wall as he hurriedly worked away the button of my jeans.  I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter with anticipation, and when he worked my underwear down my legs, I could sense that I was already dripping, even though he'd barely touched me.  
He seemed to be doing the same undressing to himself, working at his slacks with his deft fingers, and I whimpered when I felt his heavy cock slot between me, the head of his tip running through my folds. I could feel how needy I was for him in this moment, and he seemed to enjoy the sight of my legs spreading just for him. He leaned over to let his finger trail over my slit, collecting some of my arousal on my finger. My thighs immediately quivered at the sensation, a loud moan escaping my lips. 
I felt him grab the back of my skull, forcing me to bare my face to hip. 
“Open.” He commanded, and my mouth hung open, almost as if I was under a spill. He roughly shoved his finger into my mouth, and I understood, closing my lips around them, swirling my tongue around his digits, praying that he’d fuck me soon. 
“Good girl.” He said, smoothly, and I nearly fell over from how weak he was rendering me, but a steady grip on my hair kept me upright. When his finger was sufficiently cleaned, he removed it and kissed me once more, smashing his lips aggresively into mine. I kissed him back, but in that moment, there was really only one thing I wanted. 
“Spencer, please.” I panted in between his never ending kisses. “I need you inside me.” I moaned, trying to convey the enormity of my desire for him. He chuckled at my pleads, pulling my hair so I’d be forced to look ahead of me instead. The anticipation absolutely killed me, and I brokenly moaned again, about to beg once more before he suddenly thrust into me, eliciting a yelp from my lips, which I immediately swallowed down as he began to jut his hips against mine. 
“That’s it. Go on, take it.” He whispered, roughly. “You were made for this, weren’t you?” He questioned, cruelly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He goaded, going harder and harder with every word he uttered to me in the closet, my desperate attempts to stop my whimpers not being received well by him. 
“What’s wrong, baby?” He sneered, continuing to buck against me. “Didn’t you want the whole team to know what a whore you are for me?” 
I tried to keep my restraint, a low mewl escaping my lips, but that seemed to incentivize him to go even faster, the sounds of our skin slapping against each other filling the room, the smell of sex overtaking every one of my senses. 
“Come on, baby. I wanna hear you.” He then groaned once more, and I could feel how bad he wanted this, how badly he wanted me. The thought made me clench around him, which elicited another moan from his mouth. “I want everyone to hear you.” 
It was like a dam broke through me, and in an instant I was moaning, louder than I had that whole time in the closet, my noises marked by a carnal desire for this, for him. 
“Please, oh god. Spencer- I need to cum, please.” I begged, my mouth hanging open as he fucked me dumb. 
He chuckled at my loss of prudence, rewarding me accordingly. He moved his fingers down to where we were joined, beginning to rub fast, tight circles around my clit. 
“Go on, then.” He murmured. His hips never once wavered, and I could feel his grip on my hips, so tight I was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow. “Come for me.” 
I did, nearly toppling down as waves of my orgasm hit me, convulsing in his arms as I registered the feeling of him continuing to slam against me. I braced myself on the wall, letting him take me the way he wanted, and I could hear his broken moans and whimpers echo throughout the closet.
"Fuck. You're so good." He groaned out, and I let out a low whine at that, which transformed into a sob as he bottomed out in me, making me feel so full. In an instant, I could feel warmth flooding my deepest point, his hips beginning to slow down and still entirely. He pulled out of me, still panting. 
“Holy shit.” He murmured, still panting, watching as the evidence of what we’d just done dripped down my thigh. He helped me out of my bent over position as I smiled at him, dazed. 
“Holy shit, indeed.” My voice came out hoarse, scratched up from how loud I’d been screaming for him. 
“Remind me why we don’t do this again?” He said, grinning and breathless. 
“Something about professionalism?” I offered, still absolutely fucked out as I tried to regain some semblance in my appearance. One look at Spencer and I, and it wouldn’t take long to figure out exactly what we’d been doing. 
“Yeah, somehow after that, I don’t really care about professionalism.” He said, before pulling me into one last, idle kiss. He felt safe, and it felt so good to be with him like this. 
“Good.” I murmured, when our lips finally separated. “Because I don’t think I’d be able to survive if we only did this once.” I said, giggling. 
“Wanna go again?” He offered, raising an eyebrow and running a hand through his hair. 
Let’s just say that the closet became a frequent spot of ours after that. And with how loud I was screaming his name every single time? It’s safe to assume everyone else knew about it too. 
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EDIT: read part 2 (where they get caught!) here!
sorry about the wait this time around! i try to keep my fics within a week of each other, but i've got some life commitments to attend to now. (unfortunate). i hope you guys enjoyed this though!! <3 likes, reblogs, comments, are all greatly appreciated. thank you for all your support<3
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sinfulspencer · 6 months
Text
Bad Behaviour
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Prompt: Reader is being a brat. Spencer teaches her a lesson.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: dom/sub undertones (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader), verbal degradation, dirty talking, praise kink, hair pulling, light breath play, boot grinding, pet names (the pet name is actually ‘pet’ but there’s NO pet play involved), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie
Words: 10.3k
A.N.: Me and my horniness. No apologies. Also this is a repost, because apparently last year I couldn't upload the fic properly; it just removed all the descriptions and only left the dialogues.. Now everything should be fine.
MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.
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When Spencer Reid gets mad, he doesn’t shout.
He doesn’t yell, he doesn’t scream out in anger, he doesn’t do anything.
Spencer just stands there, acting like nothing has happened, but with a deathly glare that tells you exactly what happened.
The look on his face, the way his fingers tighten their grip on his pen or whatever he has in his hands, the light huffs coming out from those plump lips, that jaw tight shut, the vein on his neck gets more evident – all signs of his clear anger, pure rage running through his bloodstream. 
I only saw Spencer angry because of tough cases or particular students who decided to annoy him beyond the point of no return, and I could barely survive through his anger because he was scary. He didn’t make me want to run away, obviously, but I tried my best to never make him angry.
Until the night of our anniversary arrived.
I didn’t know what happened to me that morning. I didn’t know if it was the way he kissed me that woke up something in me, I didn’t know if it was the warmth of his body pressed to my back and his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses down my neck, I didn’t know if it was the tight grip on my hips that left bruises on my skin for the whole day. 
Something, clearly, pushed me to act like this. 
I knew it was wrong and I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn’t help it. It was our first year anniversary dinner and I just wanted to have fun, to spend the whole night underneath him or however he wanted to have me – and I couldn’t care less about his anger. 
Spencer spent our whole dinner with his hand on my thigh, occasionally gripping it to warn me to stop my actions. I didn’t want to listen, so I just didn’t – and kept on kissing him, I kept pushing his hand up to reach my panties, I whispered to him all the things I wanted to do to him once we got home. I even flirted with the waiter just to see Spencer’s reaction, but he didn’t react. 
No, he was stoic.
He acted  like a statue, barely moving when I opened my mouth or I tried to kiss him.  I didn’t blame him, he knew I was trying to tease him. How could he blame me, though? 
I wanted to have fun with my boyfriend. I wanted him to manhandle me, to spend the whole night making love to him, to ruin his pretty skin with my teeth and my nails, to run my fingers through his hair and pull it, to feel him whispering my name on my lips as he took control of my body and owned me until I couldn’t even remember who I was.
Maybe I pushed it too far, maybe I needed to stop.
Maybe I needed to realise that Spencer wasn’t touching me because he was angry. It wasn’t a hypothetical sentence, Spencer was really angry because of my attitude but for some reasons, I couldn’t care any less – I was willing to accept any punishment, anything he wanted to do to me as long as I could feel his hands on my body again. 
I missed them more than anything.
However, my fingers didn’t agree with what my mind said because they made their way underneath my skirt without hesitation. The seatbelt laid uncomfortably against my stomach as I spread my legs just enough to catch Spencer’s attention, but his eyes never left the road. 
“If you’re not going to touch me, I’ll do it myself.”
Spencer didn’t threaten to leave me high and dry, but I had a feeling that he wanted to do that when I tried to cop a feel on him. It wasn’t my fault my boyfriend was extremely gorgeous and he turned me on, I couldn’t keep my hands to myself – and Spencer knew that, he took advantage of that and used my neediness, my strong desire for him to mock me and remind me of what a pathetic greedy slut I was. 
I couldn’t deny it, he was right in every aspect.
I was greedy because each time he gave me something, I asked for more. I was pathetic because he could lift one finger and he’d have me on his knees for him, mouth wide open and tongue ready to welcome him. I was a slut because the more I looked at my boyfriend, the more I needed him inside of me.
“Go ahead, pet. Touch yourself.”
His words didn’t sound like encouragement, they were a threat. I didn’t care, I pretended like they were an encouragement and pushed my panties down my legs before stuffing them inside Spencer’s right pocket.
If Spencer wanted to stop me from disobeying, he would’ve done it in the blink of an eye. He would’ve stopped the car somewhere, he would’ve forced me in the back and he would’ve spanked me until I couldn’t do anything but whisper ‘sorry sir’. 
If Spencer wanted me to touch myself for his own greed, he would’ve ordered me to and I would’ve compiled without hesitation. Touching myself right in front of him was one of my favourite activities, because I could see every speck of desire appear in his eyes and spread through every cell in his body – until he couldn’t take it anymore, and touched me himself.
 His words were in the middle, they were an encouragement to see how far I would’ve pushed myself and how quickly I would’ve gotten into trouble for actually touching myself. I didn’t care, I wanted to feel good and the only way to get there was to use my fingers – because he clearly didn’t want to use his.
“I’m so wet, sir.” – I whispered, cupping my sex with a hand – “It’s all your fault. You made me wet.”
“Is that so?” – Spencer asked, briefly glancing at me before turning to the road – “I didn’t do anything, pet. I just ate while I talked to you about our future trip to Venice.”
Humming, I traced my clit with the tip of my index. “You know how much I love your voice, how much it affects me, sir. I can’t wait to hear it really close to my ear, it would drive me crazy.”
He shook his head and tried his best not to look at me when the lewd sounds of my fingers dipping into my heat caught his attention, but I could see the devilish smirk on his lips. I could see the pink of his tongue poking out and swipe over his bottom lip, I could see how affected he was by the fact that he wasn’t touching me.
There are few sets of rules in the Reid household.
The most important one is very simple: do not touch yourself if not allowed. 
Spencer clearly allowed me to touch myself because he said the words, but his mind was screaming at me not to – I knew him better than I knew my own body. I could easily recognize the sign of a man breaking down because he gave an order that clearly went against his own rules – and oh, did that turn me even more on.
“Are you sure you don’t want to feel me, sir? Don’t you miss how I feel so tight and warm around you?” 
Spencer didn’t look at me, but he shook his head again. “Yes, I’m sure. Keep going, pet.”
I closed my eyes, dreaming about those slender fingers on the steering wheels pushing in and out inside of me. I tried to remember the feeling of his fingers knuckle-deep inside of me, how the warmth in my body spread through my lower half, how his teeth left little marks on my neck while he fingered me from behind. 
Spencer was a talent with his hands, he knew exactly how and where to touch to get me to comply – so I missed those fingers. I missed those hands marking me, owning me, showing me that no one in the world could make me feel so fucking good – not even myself, not even those stupid toys, not even the images of his body pressed to mine.
“Does that feel good, pet?” – Spencer asked, catching my attention as I nodded – “Yeah? Better than fingers or my cock? Do you prefer your pathetic little hands?”
I didn’t want to disappoint him by keeping quiet, so I let a river of moans come out of my lips. “No, of course not, sir.”
“Then, why are you moaning like a slut? Do you feel that good?”
Whining at his remark, I closed my eyes again and rolled my hips against my own right hand. “Because I’m touching myself while looking at you. I’m dreaming of you doing this to me, sir.”
“Ah, always thinking of me. How sweet.” – Spencer said, making sure to never brush against me even when he had to touch the shift gear – “Do you miss my fingers, pet? Do you miss how they stretched you open, preparing you for my cock?”
“Yes, sir. I do.” – I bit my bottom lip, inserting a third finger inside of me with ease – “Please, I... Stop the car and touch me properly, sir. I need you so fucking badly.”
Obviously he wasn’t going to budge, but I had to ask. 
Spencer went silent as the lewd sounds of my fingers dipping in and out of my heat echoed inside the car. I couldn’t stop moaning and rolling my hips, trying to come up with different ways on how to tease Spencer and beg him to actually touch me – but he never looked at me. He was too busy driving, touching the steering wheel and letting his fingers dance all over the leather. 
I couldn’t even breathe. 
Pumping my fingers at a quick pace, I realised how close I was to coming. Spencer must’ve noticed my thighs shaking, because he gave me one single look – and in that moment, I understood how fucked I was. The anger, the jealousy, the annoyance was already running through his bloodstream – and it was reaching the point of no return, a point that elicited a long loud moan from my lips.
“C-Close... Please, sir. Can I come?” – I asked through sobs, feeling my body tingling with desire – “I need it.”
I didn’t know if Spencer appreciated me telling him I was close to my orgasm – I was hoping it would soften the edges once we got home from the restaurant, but Spencer never dared to look at me. He kept his beautiful honey coloured eyes on the road and drove, a little bit faster than before. Or maybe it was my head spinning too quickly.
“Do you want to come, pet? Do you want to come all over your pathetic little fingers for me?” – Spencer asked in a low tone, sliding his hand down the steering wheel without touching me – “Do you need to come so fucking badly you can’t even give me the decency to wait until we got home?”
I nodded again, whining loudly. “P-Please?”
I tried to slow down the pace of my fingers, but the desire ripping through my body didn’t allow me that. I squeezed my thighs together and I threw my head back, whining my boyfriend’s name in hope that he would grant me the wish I asked so gently, so beautifully.
Spencer didn’t, but only because he changed his whole behaviour.
He put his right hand between my legs and closed it around my right wrist, pushing it away. My heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of me, I was completely overwhelmed by what was happening that I barely had the time to realise it. I whimpered at the loss of my own fingers from my heat, but I soon gasped when Spencer replaced them with his own. 
“You don’t get to make yourself come. Only I do.”
Spencer’s voice reached my ears loud and clear, leaving me to pant his name over and over again. The windows of the car were foggy, my wet fingers were stuffed in my mouth as I tried not to squirm. Spencer made sure to remind me how good his fingers felt in comparison to mine, pressing his digits on that soft indentation inside of me – that delicious spot that made me curl my toes in pleasure.
“Y-Yes, sir.”
I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe.
All I could do in that moment was to take his fingers, clench hard around him and remind him that he was going to get this – and much more – once we got home. I didn’t know how Spencer managed to drive with one hand and fingering me with the other, but again, I was so lost in my own pleasure to not focus on anything else but me. 
Spencer curled his fingers inside of me, pressing again on that spot that made me squeeze hard around him. I could see the shadow of a smirk on that cocky, arrogant face – I could feel his ego being boosted through the roof, but honestly, I didn’t care. Spencer knew he was good at fingering, there was no denying.
“This pussy belongs to me, pet. Understood?”
“Yes, s-sir.”
Pressing the palm of his hand against my clit, Spencer gave me that one last push I needed. With a loud cry and a few sobs, I jumped over the edge of the desire and let the orgasm wash through me for the second time in a row. All the pleasure settled behind my belly button, the blood rushed up to my ears again as I felt Spencer whisper.
“That’s my good pet. You did such a good job.”
The adrenaline didn’t leave my body until his fingers slowly made their way out of me. The result of my desire pooled between my legs and I couldn’t even close my thighs together, still shaking. I was desperate to wrap them around his waist, I needed him to make them tremble again – I just needed Spencer to be close to me. 
And I wanted to say it out loud, but my mouth got filled by his fingers. 
The same fingers that were inside of me a few seconds before. 
Spencer didn’t even look at me. “Clean up your mess, little pet. And tell me how you taste.”
I brought my hands on his wrist, closing my lips around his fingers and made sure to lick them clean. I swirled my tongue on the tip of his fingers and moaned at the taste, squeezing my legs as the desire took over me again. I didn’t know why Spencer allowed me to come, I didn’t know if he was still angry but I didn’t care. 
At that moment, I just wanted to please him and thank him for making me come. 
“Thank you sir.” – I whispered, pressing a soft kiss on each of his fingers – “I taste so good.”
“I know you do, pet.” – Spencer told me, pulling his hand away from me – “Now stay still and behave for me. I’m not done with you yet.”
I knew we barely started our night and I was so eager to find out all the other fun things he had in store for me, so I behaved like a good pet. I sat on my seat with my thighs still trembling, my eyes staring at him the whole time as Spencer drove home as fast as he could. 
He was just as impatient and eager to have me.
I was impressed by his self-control and his stoic composure, but there were a few details that I would’ve missed if I hadn’t looked at him the whole time. He kept tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he stroked his own thigh with his left hand but he never dared to look at me.
Probably because if he did, he would’ve stopped the car and ordered me to ride his thigh or his cock until he came inside of me, filling me so deeply I wouldn’t have been able to stand on my own feet. I wouldn’t have minded that, because that’s exactly what I was craving the most. 
Spencer parked the car right in front of the flat complex and unbuckled his belt, turning the music off. I didn’t even hear the music playing in the background as he used his fingers on me, I was so focused on the feeling and the pleasure building inside of me. 
“Go on. Run inside.”
I struggled to unbuckle my belt. “Yes, sir.”
 Spencer grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to look at him. Those universe coloured eyes stared into mine as if I was his most precious possession – and I was. I could see the love behind them, the longing he felt, the desire to have me that was slowly creeping through him. 
I wanted to kiss him so bad, so I did – but Spencer pulled away before the kiss could deepen. His eyes softened up at my kiss, but I knew that this wasn’t going to change the fact that I misbehaved the whole night. Spencer wasn’t going to budge, he wasn’t going to be easy on me – and honestly, I couldn’t fucking wait.
“You should be scared of what I’m going to do to you.” – Spencer whispered on my lips, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip – “Go on, little pet.”
His threat didn’t go unnoticed, but I was too eager to have him to understand.
Also, I didn’t care. I would’ve greedily accepted anything he wanted to do to me, as long as he granted one look, one kiss, one brief moment where he shared his unconditional love for me with me. 
Spencer got out of the car a few seconds after me, following me up the stairs and keeping his eyes on my skirt the whole time. I tried my best not to lift it while I was walking, even though I would’ve loved to tease him some more – but maybe Spencer was already observing my bare skin underneath the skirt. 
“Don’t look under my skirt, perv.” – I giggled, reaching the door of his apartment – “You’re such a bad boy.”
Spencer shook his head, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry, it will happen again.”
Holding back a laugh, I watched him open the door of his house and walked in first. I didn’t know if I was allowed to sit on the couch or anywhere in his apartment, but I decided I was – and made my way towards the bedroom, knowing that he would’ve appreciated my cooperation.
After all, I knew exactly what he wanted me to do.
Somehow.
Spencer didn’t follow me to the bedroom at first, he let me go without too much of a fuss. He stopped inside the bathroom while I sat on the edge of his bed, his favourite place to devour me with my legs over his shoulders and his face buried between my thighs. 
I could hear the sound of the water running inside the sink, but I tried not to think too much about it. 
I pushed my skirt down my legs and took off my top, folding my clothes over the nightstand on the right. I was completely naked for Spencer and I wasn’t sure he would’ve appreciated the sight, given the fact that his anger was still clear in his body – I realised it because he closed the door a little too loudly than usual, and his footsteps were louder. 
I knew this night wasn’t going to start with him calling me a ‘good little pet’.
I didn’t care, I was excited anyway. 
Spencer never showed me his meaner side in the bedroom, but tonight was the perfect night for him to let loose – and finally give me an insight on the dark and twisted mind of the man I loved more than anything in my life. A man that brought me so much happiness and joy.
Spencer came out of the bathroom and finally walked inside of the bedroom, managing to look absolutely ravishing while doing nothing much. His shirt was unbuttoned, showing off the delicious skin of his chest that was soon going to be covered in little red and blue marks. 
I was jealous of how gorgeous he looked without even trying.
“I’m going to sit right here now.” – Spencer pointed at the chair next to the window – “And I’m not going to touch you until you hump my boot nice and well.”
My eyes immediately landed on the black boots Spencer was wearing. I nodded my head without hesitation, already embarrassed because of the mess I was absolutely positive going to make all over the black leather. I was going to do anything in my power to let him know that I was excited for him to touch me again, that I needed his fingers and his mouth and his cock all over me. 
Spencer sat down on the chair with his legs slightly parted and he pointed to his right boot. He looked so fucking beautiful under the faint lights of the moon filtering through the window and the salt lamp on his nightstand. I felt so lucky to have a man like him in my life, cherishing me and loving me so hard and so deeply I could hardly remember all the people that came before him.
“Come on, little pet.”
I got up from the bed, still completely naked, and kneeled exactly where he wanted me to. His eyes never left my face and I was grateful he was looking at me, because I was starting to miss him – he knew that I couldn’t obey him unless he looked at me. Spencer knew how much it meant to me to have his eyes on my face the whole time, adding to the humiliation of grinding against him without him doing anything.
This was Spencer’s favourite way to humiliate me.
Forcing me to grind against something and mocking me for being so needy and so desperate that I’d do anything he asked me to, in exchange for his services. I felt so embarrassed each time, but I loved every second of it. It made me feel secure, safe, needed, looked at.
 I could feel the cold leather between my legs as Spencer gently pushed me down, forcing me to sit over his boot. Suddenly the leather felt warm against me and I could feel my wetness sliding over the fabric, making a mess all over it. Spencer didn’t seem to care as he looked at me the whole time, nodding his head. 
“Like this, s-sir?”
“Yes, pet. You’re doing so good for me.” – Spencer said, placing his hands on the arm-rest of the chair – “Does it feel good?”
I nodded my head, biting my bottom lip. “Yes, s-so good.”
“You love humping my boot, don’t you pet?” – Spencer asked, a hint of jealousy painting his voice – “I can’t believe you’re so desperate to feel my cock inside your pretty cunt that you’d do anything I tell you to. You’re so fucking pathetic, pet.”
His words hurt in the most delicious way, making my head spin and enforcing me to move quicker. I rolled my hips against the boot, finally finding the perfect angle to grind against. Spencer didn’t move his boot, allowing me to get as much pleasure as I could from my own movements alone.
He looked at me the whole time, listening to the sound of my pained and desperate moans filling the room. He noticed how my hands gripped at my own breasts, how I bounced against his boot and pretended it was another part of me that was clearly restricted by his pants. 
“Are you dreaming of riding my cock, pet? Is that what you’re thinking about?”
I nodded with eagerness. “Yes. Yes, sir. I miss doing it.”
“And I miss watching you do it.” – Spencer said with a devilish smirk, tilting my chin upward – “Maybe I can let you do that, since you look so cute while humping my boot. I bet you’d look even better bouncing on my cock, don’t you think?”
“Yes! Yes, that’s true.” – I whispered, cherishing the warmth of his fingers under my chin – “You’re right, sir.”
I was getting closer to my release, I could almost taste the pleasure on the tip of my tongue. I was tempted to keep quiet and not say anything to Spencer, but he knew my body better than anybody. He could see, and probably feel, my body tingling with desire and my eyes rolling in the back of my head. 
I tried my best to hold it, to stop myself from coming all over his boot and not disobey him. But I knew that I brought chaos upon myself if I let go and didn’t tell him the truth. Spencer wasn’t going to touch me if I did that, and I craved his body on mine to the point I could only think of him.
“Stop.”
Spencer retracted his right foot in order for me to pull away, but not without complaining. “Sir... please.”
He didn’t care about my sobs or my pleas. Spencer was doing this to humiliate me, to show me how pathetically greedy I was to act like a bitch at dinner and like a whore in the car. I knew it, there was no need to remind me, but I loved everything he gave me at that moment.
I loved how Spencer basked in the pleasure of this hidden side he finally let me see.
“Oh.. Look at what you did, pet.” – Spencer mumbled, pointed at the wet spot on his right boot – “You got my boot so fucking wet. You were enjoying riding it, huh?”
I lowered my eyes, staring at his boot. “Yes, that felt so good. Can I do it again, sir? Please? I want to show you how...”
He lifted his hand, interrupting me. “You’ve got to make it even, don’t you think?”
Spencer pointed at his left boot and I whined before doing anything, knowing exactly that he was going to edge me again. My cheeks heaten up, but I didn’t let the embarrassment take over me as I sat down on his other boot. If Spencer wanted me to hump his other boot, then so fucking be it – I was going to ride it and ride it until my boyfriend told me to stop, just because I wanted to please him.
And prove to him, again, how desperate I was to have him.
“You’re such a good pet. You didn’t even complain.” – Spencer chuckled, watching me get comfortable on his left boot before he lifted it a bit – “Have I finally forced you to submit to me again? Are you going to be a good pet for me and behave like I asked you to this morning?”
“You don’t have to force me to submit, sir. You know I’d do anything to keep you pleased and happy with me.”- I whispered, feeling my words broken by the desire filling my body – “Can I hump your boot now, sir? Please?”
He nodded, bringing both his hands behind his neck. “Go ahead. Show me how much you want to ride my cock.”
Spencer didn’t have to say anything else as I started to roll my hips again, closing my eyes. The images started to flood my brain as I imagined being on top of him, scratching his chest and mumbling how much I loved his cock deep inside of me. I wanted Spencer to know that, no matter my behaviour outside of the bedroom, he was the only person who could see this part of me and bask in it.
I could feel my wetness sliding all over his left boot, matching the stain with the right one. Spencer stared at me with that same arrogant smirk on those lips and I was tempted to stand up and kiss it away, but I couldn’t. No matter how beautiful he looked, how hard he was in his pants and how much I wanted him to ruin me, I couldn’t stand up and interrupt this.
Spencer wanted to edge me again and he was going to accomplish his task. It didn’t take too long for me to reach that edge of desire again, because soon I was panting and moaning with my hands on my breasts.
“Please, sir. Let me c-come, please.” – I whimpered, blinking the tears away from my eyes – “Please, I’m begging you. I want to show you how much I loved humping your boot.”
Spencer clicked his tongue, folding his arms to his chest. “Hold it, pet. I know you can.”
I whined with my eyes closed and turned my head to the side, rolling my hips and feeling his boot move against my clit. I knew Spencer was going to make this night more difficult than ever – and he was succeeding, because I was close to start crying harder no matter the consequences.
Tears in the bedroom weren’t a new thing for me. 
I was emotional, I cried every single Spencer made love to me. 
But that night tears weren’t of love and longing, they were of frustration and desperation. Feelings that got amplified when I opened my eyes and found Spencer with a hand tightly wrapped around his cock, jerking off so quickly to release the tension that he accumulated through the whole night. 
I knew that seeing me like this, so turned on and so embarrassed by my own greed, turned him on – I just didn’t think he could touch himself in front of me, without asking me to help. So I decided to tease him and show hm that yes, he was in control – but he wanted to fuck me as much as I wanted him to.
“Can I suck your cock, sir?” – I asked through a heaving breath as he looked at me, panting – “Please, my mouth feels so empty without it. I’ve been fantasising about this for so long. Please sir, let me suck your cock while I hump your boot.”
Spencer hummed at my fantasy, nodding his head. “Yeah? You want to take it deep down your throat?”
I nodded again, leaning forward. “Yes, please. I need to show you what a good slut I am for you, sir. Please, let me do that.”
“Go ahead, pet. Suck it.”
Spencer helped me kneel between his legs, staring at the wet spots on his boots. Satisfied by the sight and clearly enjoying the warmth of my mouth around his cock, he released a long moan that encouraged me to take him further. I had my eyes closed, my right hand wrapped around what couldn’t fit in my mouth.
Spencer ran his fingers through my hair, admiring the way my lips stretched around his cock and moaning softly when my tongue caressed him up and down. 
“Such a good pet for me. You really wanted to suck me off, didn’t you?”
I struggled to nod my head, managing to finally look up at him. He had a sweet smile on his face and that made my heart grow fonder, because I knew that look – I knew that expression, I knew he was silently telling me how much he loved me and how proud he was of me for letting him do all of this. 
I was even more proud of him for showing off this persona that apparently came out only for such a short amount of time.
There was a tenderness he expressed through his touch even while his words were humiliating in the worst delicious way. His fingers twisted my hair gently, pulling me between his legs where he wanted me the most, and I couldn’t do anything but take all of him in my mouth. I needed to remind him that this is what I was made for.
Spencer wanted to keep quiet to enjoy the silent sounds of my mouth being filled up over and over by his cock, but the pleasure got the best of him. More moans came out from those plump perfect lips I loved in the shape of curses and I was in awe. 
My thighs trembled with unspoken desire and I closed my eyes again, allowing Spencer’s voice to encourage me to take him further down my throat. My efforts didn’t go unnoticed because soon enough his hands came cradling my face, gently pulling me away from him.
Saliva dripped down my chin. 
I was positively sure to have mascara running down my cheeks and my hair was a mess, but Spencer seemed to find me the most gorgeous woman on the planet because he kissed me with such passion. 
Completely breathless, I found myself silently begging him to bring me back to life with those lips. Spencer used his mouth to control me all over again, to tell me to stop squirming in his arms and let him take care of me in the way only he knows. I gave him a silent nod and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing his mouth with the same blossoming desire that he showed for me.
“Please, sir, I...”
I didn’t even know what I was begging for. Too many things I craved and too many he was willing to give me. I could see Spencer pondering for a few seconds before acting and that made me smile, because I knew how much he wanted to touch me at that moment.
“Lay down on the bed, pet.” – Spencer whispered, taking a step back – “I want to see all of you.”
I was already completely naked, but I didn’t complain about his request. I made sure to lay down on the bed with my legs spread wide open for me, with my head propped high enough to look at him.
Spencer took his time pushing his shirt off his shoulders, admiring every inch of my body as I tried my best not to close my thighs. I was self-conscious, I knew I was beautiful – Spencer made sure to force me to say it out loud while taking me from behind one night. So I knew he was appreciating the sight, but still.
The nerves got the best of me and I closed my thighs, sighing. 
“Can you move a little quicker, sir? I’m dying right here.”
Spencer let out a chuckle, unbuckling his belt and leaving it on the floor along with his trousers. “So eager to have me.”
“You know it.” – I whispered, immediately opening my legs again when he got on the bed – “Come here, please. I need to kiss you, sir. I miss you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, pet. I’m right here.” – he whispered, settling between my legs and giving me a long kiss on the forehead – “You did so good for me tonight, but I want to do something else. Do you think you can keep going? Or do you want me to stop?”
The tenderness in his voice broke me.
I forced the urge to sob because, how lucky did I get? He was showing me mercy on a night where I didn’t deserve it, so I decided to take advantage of the moment – and showing him that no matter how exhausted I was, I needed to keep going. Both to please him, and also because I craved his cock inside of me.
I was a slut, after all.
“No, I’m okay. I can keep going, sir.” – I replied to him, bringing both my hands behind his neck – “I’m having so much fun.”
“Fun? This is supposed to be a punishment.” – he mumbled, covering my lips with little kisses – “I guess I need to step up my game, then. And I know exactly how.”
Spencer pulled away from my face, ignoring my annoyed whines. I wasn’t done kissing him and I needed way more of that, but he was in control – and I didn’t want him to stop being so gentle with me, even though ‘gentle’ wasn’t the correct word I should’ve used.
Spencer placed his hands on my thighs, spreading them as far as he could until I winced. I didn’t know what to expect from him, because Spencer Reid was a man full of surprised – but when his mouth covered my sex, I almost laughed.
Of course he ended up eating me out.
Spencer loved oral sex more than penetrative sex. I didn’t blame him, I loved the power that sucking him off gave me – no matter how hard Spencer pretended to be in control at that moment. I loved watching his facade crumble each time I moaned around his cock. And I knew Spencer felt the same when he was between my legs. 
He could control me by kissing me and he could do it with kisses right between my legs. 
His tongue swirled around my clit and I forced myself not to moan, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to focus on the intense pleasure he was going to give me, terrified that he wouldn’t grant me the grace of coming for the second time of the night.
Or maybe not. 
“I want you to come all over my tongue, pet. Do you think you can do that?” – Spencer asked, breaching my entrance with the tip of the index – “Do you think you can show me how much you love when my tongue is buried in your pretty pussy?”
Nodding without hesitation, I looked down at him. “Yes, s-sir. Yes.”
I was scared that there might have been a trick behind his words, terrified that I might get another orgasm denied for my behaviour earlier but the way Spencer was devouring me, saliva mixed with my own arousal covering his chin and his eyes closed so he could focus on his actions, made me realise that no, he wasn’t going to deny me an orgasm. Spencer loved going down on me, he loved feeling my body tensing because of his fingers and my tongue. 
I wasn’t surprised when my second orgasm of the night washed over me, so quickly and so intense. Spencer didn’t pull away though, sucking my clit with his eyes closed and pushing a finger inside of me. I whimpered at the feeling, still sensitive because of the tingles still making my thighs tremble.
“S-Sir, I...”
“Shut up.”
I ran my fingers through his curls, tugging on them harshly. “Be nice to me, sir. Your face is between my legs, I could easily cr...”
Spencer didn’t let me finish my sentence, slapping my thighs with both hands. The loud slaps echoed through the room and I whimpered, knowing damn well that he had left marks on my skin – obviously the day before JJ and Penelope invited me for a pool party with Emily. 
I was fucked. In every sense there was. 
“I warned you.”
“Sorry sir. Thank you.”
“Ah, there she is. My good pet.” – Spencer pressed a soft kiss on the red mark he left on my right thigh – “Thank me again for making you come.”
He was right. I thanked him for slapping me, but not for allowing me to come. 
“Thank you for making me come on your tongue, sir. I missed doing it.” – I whispered, caressing his curls – “Thank you.”
Spencer went back with his mouth between my legs, thanking me for behaving in his own way. His tongue cleaned up the results of my pleasure and it dived inside of me, eliciting another long moan that bubbled through my chest. 
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my thighs slightly cramping because of the position, but the desire in my body was growing stronger each second. I didn’t know if I was going to come again so quickly, but Spencer was determined to make me.
Pushing two fingers inside of me and focusing his tongue on my clit, Spencer looked up at me. 
“Fuck, sir. You’re so good at this.” – I panted through each heaving breath, slamming my right hand over the bed sheet – “I love your mouth.”
“I’d love yours if only you were able to stop talking back.”
Giggling for the obvious remark about my previous behaviour, I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the warmth of his mouth and his fingers bringing me closer to the third orgasm of the night. I didn’t know how many orgasms he was going to give me, but I was more than willing to receive all of them – and more, just to please him.
Spencer loved watching my body reacting to the pleasure he was causing, and also to the pain. 
“Less talking, more pussy eating.” – I muttered, feeling a sharp pain on my thigh – “Sir.”
“You’re such a greedy slut. You can’t get enough of my mouth, huh?”
I arched my back when Spencer inserted a third finger inside of me, making me gasp. He knew how to shut me up, but I wasn’t done talking anyway. He asked a question and I knew I had to answer, otherwise I would’ve gotten another pinch. 
“You know me too well, sir.”
“I know. You’re lucky I love you.”
“Oh, I feel so lucky.”
Spencer drew back in with his mouth, scissoring his fingers inside of me to stretch me out for him. My thighs began to tremble again and I could feel the beginning of my downfall all over again. Spencer took me down with him, curling his fingers and making sure to feel my taste on his tongue just like before. 
A chorus of moans and curses flew from my lips, echoing in the bedroom along with the lewd sound of my wetness drenching Spencer’s lips, tongue and his fingers. But he didn’t stop, working me through my orgasm and teasing me with another one right behind – but I couldn’t get there.
My whole body was on fire.
Every muscle was tingling, my thighs were cramping and my mind was running.
“Do you want more, pet? Do you want my tongue to fuck you again? Do you think you can take it?” – Spencer asked, watching my body twitch each time his fingers moved within me – “Oh, my poor pet is already exhausted. You’re so pathetic, bragging about loving my tongue and then barely giving me three orgasms.”
I bit my bottom lip harshly when Spencer pressed a kiss right above my clit, making me squirm in anticipation. It wasn’t my fault he denied me two orgasms and then gave me two in a row, my body needed a few seconds to breathe.
And when they passed, Spencer made sure to remind me that he owned my body. He knew exactly how to push me and how to get me to give him whatever he needed.
“Now you’re going to be a good little pet for me and come again.” – Spencer said, slowly moving upward to reach my face – “Do you understand, greedy fucking whore?”
I nodded my head, shakily bringing my hand up to his face. “Yes. Yes, s-sir. Anything.”
“Good. And then... I’ll let you ride my cock.” – he added, kissing the tip of my nose – “And you’re going to thank me for everything I’ve done for you tonight. Am I clear?”
His fingers never stopped their relentless pace, curling deep against that delicious spot that made me shiver. Spencer looked at me like he would look at a masterpiece, with adoration and tenderness even though his fingers were doing his filthy work – but I looked at him the same way, in awe of his beauty, of his love for me, of my love for him.
Spencer could’ve asked for the moon and I would’ve brought him half of it, cherishing the other half for the day he’d ask for more.
“Crystalline, sir.” 
“I love your smart mouth.” – Spencer brushed his thumb over my right cheek, before slapping me without hesitation – “Especially when it’s stretched around my cock.”
The skin of my face burned at his gesture and I moaned, thanking him again for touching me. I wasn’t sure he deserved to be thanked for that but I did it anyway because each time his hands touched a part of my body, it felt like a gift. Each time Spencer gave himself to me, I accepted him with open arms.
Especially legs, like right now.
“What’s that look for, pet?” – Spencer asked with a smirk, knowing I couldn’t talk – “Are you speechless? Are my fingers fucking you so good you forgot how to talk?”
My fingers scratched his shoulders to release the tension expanding through my body as waves of shock mixed with pleasure hit me over and over, until the fourth orgasm took over me. My eyes never left Spencer’s, I needed him to see the intense desire that flooded me each time he granted me an orgasm. 
He basked in that desire, he kissed me through it.
Spencer leaned down and pressed a soft kiss over my parted lips. “That’s it, pet, good job. I’m so proud of you.”
Struggling to get my breath even, I collapsed back onto the mattress. Spencer followed me, kissing down my neck and nipping the soft skin while caressing my thighs. He was trying to bring me down to Earth, but my mind was still lucid enough to want this night not to be over yet.
However, I appreciated his kind words and his gentle kisses. 
Spencer tilted my chin upward, looking into my eyes. “I love you.”
My lips twitched into a smile. “I love you too, sir.” 
He moved away from me and jumped off the bed. I immediately searched for him in the bedroom, whining when I didn’t feel the warmth of his body besides mine.
“Where are you going?”
“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be back soon.” – Spencer kissed my forehead – “I’m going to grab some water. You need to be hydrated.”
“Thank you for not making that joke.”
“What? About you being wet enough to..”
“Don’t push it, sir.” – I mumbled, grasping his hand and tugging it – “Or I will ride you right now.”
Spencer hummed, pulling away from me before I could put my threat to the test. “Not without drinking a glass of water first, pet. Doctor’s order.”
I watched him as he left the bedroom, smiling when he turned around to check on me. I wanted to follow him inside of the kitchen, hug him from behind and bite his neck to leave him some marks, but I was too exhausted to move – I was still in the mood for playing, just not for walking and moving around the house. 
Spencer got that.
Usually he made me walk with him to stretch, but my legs and knees were stretched out sufficiently. 
When he came back inside the bedroom, Spencer handed me a glass of water. I drank all of it, not leaving a single drop, and plopped back on the bed with my legs spread open for him. Spencer finished drinking his own glass of cold water and left everything on his nightstand.
Then, he crossed his arms.
“Well?”
“Well, sir? What’s next?” – I asked, kneeling on the bed – “Are you going to let me ride you now?”
“Should I?” – Spencer hummed, scratching his chin while pretending to ponder the thought – “I mean, I asked you to come for me... And you did, so I guess I should reward you.”
I got closer to him, still on my knees, and joined my hands together. “Please? I’ve been such a good pet for you, sir, I deserve to ride your pretty cock. I know you missed seeing me on top and I can tell you that I have missed being on top as well.”
He placed my hands on his shoulders. “You’d look very pretty.”
“Bouncing on your cock? Moaning and panting like a little slut because I can’t get enough of you?” – I asked, leaning forward ‘til my lips touched his – “Would you like to watch me riding your pretty cock and struggling to stay still because I need your cum so deep inside my pussy?”
Spencer released a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I’ll show you.”
I grabbed both his hands and pushed Spencer on the bed beside me, watching him laugh with his head thrown back at my eagerness. He was still in control of everything, obviously, but his softer side was shining through – and I was glad, because I loved this side as well. 
“You just lay there and look pretty for me while I ride you like you asked me to, sir.” – I whispered, gently pushing him with his back on the bed – “That’s it. You are so beautiful.”
Spencer kept his hands on my hips the whole time, watching me settle on his thighs but never daring to make a move. He wanted me to do all the work and even though my thighs were cramping, I was determined to show him how desperate I was to feel him inside of me. Sitting on his lap and riding him nice and well was exactly how I was hoping the night would end.
My hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a few strokes just to tease him. Spencer stared at me without making a sound, caressing the soft skin of my hips before rolling his. He wasn’t very vocal in bed when it came to touching, but I wasn’t going to have it – I needed to hear him.
“Please, don’t... Uh.” – I mumbled, grinding my hips against his – “I want to hear you.”
“My pet is giving me orders.” – Spencer whispered, following my hand with his hips – “Why should I listen to you?”
“Because your moans are music to my ears, sir. I need to know how good I’m making you feel, because it’ll make me even more desperate to please you.” – I told him without hesitation, giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose – “Please, sir?”
Spencer didn’t answer me with words. He pulled me down with a hand on my throat and kissed my mouth like his life depended on it, urging me to go faster with my hand – or finally welcome him inside of me. I felt his pre-cum smear down all over his length and a rush of adrenaline ran through me.
Lifting my hips, his cock aligned with my entrance and I felt it slid between my wet folds. I coated him with my own arousal before looking up at my boyfriend, smiling softly when I found him with his eyes settled on my face – he wanted to control how good I was doing, how focused I was on making him feel good. And I think he enjoyed the sight, because his lips parted and a soft moan escaped from that sinful mouth.
“I could watch you ride my cock for hours. You’re so beautiful.”
Blushing, I nudged my nose against his. “Thank you, sir.”
Spencer knew how much his voice affected me because the moment his lips parted to let out another long moan, I sat down on his cock. Inch by inch, I let Spencer fill me up until there was no more space between us and our lips were connected with kisses, with more moans and his hands pawing at my hips. 
I could feel him twitch inside of me, knowing that he wasn’t going to last long. I didn’t care, I wanted Spencer to feel good – and I was already on the verge of the pleasure, so it didn’t matter how long it would take for both of us to reach that state of euphoria we so desperately craved.
Spencer tried to lift his body so he could touch me properly, but I wasn’t having it. 
Pushing him down over the bed, I settled back on his hips.
“Stay down. I can do this on my own, sir.”
Spencer gripped my thighs with his hands, leaving angry red welts on my skin. “Alright, little pet. Make me feel good.”
Steadying myself on top of him with my hands on his shoulders, I rolled my hips along with his. The moans that left his mouth were music to my ears, allowing his voice and those pleasurable sounds to encourage me to go quicker. I wasn’t a big fan of being on top, but Spencer seemed so happy to see me like that – with my thighs spread open for him, watching his cock disappear inside of me as I gripped him tightly. 
“I love your cock so much, sir. I missed it inside of me.”
“Now you have it, pet.” – Spencer whispered, grasping the bed sheets – “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me.”
“Do you want me to go faster?” – I asked through my sobs – “Please, I... I want to.”
He wanted to touch me, he wanted to control the pace of my movements. I could see it written all over his face, but he didn’t move his hands from the bed. Spencer wanted me to prove how eager I was to have him and how happy I was to finally be united with him. 
“Do what you please, pet. I’ll love it anyway.”
I collapsed on top of him, kissing his lips in the spur of the moment. But I didn’t stop my movements, pushing my hips against his and making sure he could feel how wet and warm and perfect I was around him. Spencer moaned into my mouth, claiming my breath as his each time I sobbed. 
We were coming to an end so fast, but I didn’t care.
Spencer had his head thrown back in pleasure, his eyes always on my face to make sure I was okay but the sounds I was making, mixed with the lewd noises from our slick bodies together, told him everything he needed to know. I loved feeling like this, I loved being like this with him – and my body was his, to cherish and to love for the days to come.
I grabbed his right hand and placed it over my heart. Spencer could feel the steady throb of my beating hard against his fingertips and I saw the shadow of a smile appear on those lips I loved to death. 
“Where do you want me to finish, pet?” – Spencer asked, his voice broken my pleasure – “I’m c-close.”
With tears in my eyes, I whispered: “Inside of me, sir. Please.”
Spencer used his free hand to lift himself off the bed so he could wrap his arm around me. I let him, too lost in my own pleasure to realise he was closer to me than I thought. 
His mouth dived against my neck, peppering it with kisses and bites that I knew weren’t going to be there tomorrow. I didn’t care, I wanted Spencer to bite me and kiss me anywhere he liked, for as long as he liked. 
Slamming me down onto his hips, Spencer thrust up into me with ease. I could feel my wetness drip onto his thighs, his fingers leaving red marks on my hips and his mouth biting every inch of skin he could. Spencer wanted me to lose my mind that night and I did, collapsing against his chest with my trembling arms around his neck. 
I closed my legs around his hips and followed his movements, ignoring everything I told him before. 
“Shit, pet. You feel so fucking good, I could fuck you for hours.”
I giggled, lifting his face up to look into his eyes. “By all means, please do.”
Spencer ravaged me with every ounce of love and passion he felt for me that night. He made my legs shake around his hips, he bit my neck and licked the soft skin to make it better before grabbing my face and kissing me like there was no tomorrow. 
I was out of breath, barely able to register what was happening around me. 
“More, more.” – I urged him, bringing my hands around his neck – “Please, sir, just...”
Spencer didn’t let me finish my sentence, kissing my mouth and turning me into a panting mess. His hips rocked against mine with urge, with desire, with greed and I let him take everything from me. 
Finally the pleasure hit me before I could feel him reach the euphoria I knew he was seeking as I unravelled around him, moaning and whispering his name against his mouth. He swallowed up every moan with pleasure, twisting the positions and pushing me against the bed. 
Spencer didn’t stop thrusting into me, allowing me to ride my orgasm to the fullest. I was completely speechless, unable to think straight as the pleasure clouded my mind. The more Spencer pounded into me, the more another orgasm settled behind my belly button. 
“Give me another one, pet. I know you can do it, I can feel you wanting it.”
I nodded my head even though I didn’t understand what he said, completely lost in my own desire and lust for him. Spencer chased my orgasm and his with a desire that I’ve never seen in him before, thrusting into me as the bed creaked underneath our wanting bodies. 
I kept my hands behind his neck, casually scratching his skin each time he hit that delicious spot that made my toes curl in pleasure. I wanted him to fuck me harder, I needed him to completely ruin me – and I didn’t care if I wasn’t going to able to walk tomorrow. I didn’t care if the girls would ask questions, if they would tease me for being covered in my marks. 
I just wanted Spencer to feel good. 
“Sir, give it to me. Please, come inside of me.” – I uttered against his lips, watching his eyes widen at my request – “Please, I need your cum so fucking badly inside of me. I’m your cumslut, please. Need it.”
“Yeah? You want my cum inside your pretty pussy?” – Spencer asked with urge in his voice, moaning softly – “I’ll fucking give it to you, then. Take it, you fucking whore.”
Spencer kissed me again, pushing his tongue against mine until I couldn’t even breathe. Another orgasm took me by surprise as my whole body shuddered and contorted around him, making my eyes roll in the back of my head. Spencer must’ve felt me gripping him fucking tightly around his cock, because he was finally able to let it go.
His hands forced me down on the bed as he finally reached that state of euphoria, flooding me with the warmth of his love and his pleasure. I closed my legs around his waist and forced him to stay there, to give me everything he had to offer until there was nothing left.
Pleasure danced all over his beautiful features, his lips covering mine with a tenderness that made my heart skip a beat. I tried to calm down the beating of my heart, struggling to stay still under his body towering on top of me. 
Spencer kissed me over and over, cradling my face with one hand. He kept whispering those three little words I loved to hear from him, holding me as we both came down to our climax. 
I didn’t know how long it took for us to separate and for our breath to be even.
When the moment finally came and the blissful smile on our lips turned into a devilish grin, Spencer rolled off my body and settled beside me while our pleasures pooled between my legs. 
My legs were heavy as every muscle burned due to our nefarious activities.
“I love you.” – I whispered once silence had taken over the room – “I love you so much.”
Spencer turned to look at me, opening his hand. “Should I blame it on the hormones?”
I rolled to his side, placing my right hand into his. “Blame it on your cock.”
“Ah, it.”
“It.” – I giggled, giving my boyfriend a kiss on the cheek – “Thank you for tonight.”
“Thank you for loving me.”
My heart fluttered at his words. “If this is how we’re going to celebrate our anniversaries, I will need to find more ways to misbehave.”
Spencer chuckled, bringing our joined hands to his lips. “I’m glad you had fun.”
“I’m glad you had fun, my love.” – I told him, tightening my grip on his hand – “Thank you for loving me, thank you for tonight, thank you for fucking me, thank you for giving me five orgasms.”
“You’re welcome for everything, baby.” – he mumbled, rolling on his side so he could look at me – “I’m so proud of you for taking everything I gave you tonight.”
I leaned forward to reach his lips, never letting his hand go. “I’m so proud of you for showing off that side that I definitely love.”
Spencer kept our joined hands closer to his chest. “You know, I never thought I would let someone grind on my boot. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
I giggled, blushing at the images flooding my brain again. “Well... It was an experience.”
“Don’t worry, I cleaned my boots before.” – Spencer explained to me, kissing my forehead – “I didn’t want you to catch any infection, so I disinfected them when we came home.”
“Ah, when you went to the bathroom.” – I nodded, biting my bottom lip – “I thought you were jerking off so you could last longer in bed.”
He pinched my pinkie, shaking his head. “I don’t need to jerk off to last long.”
“Oh, I know that.” – I winked, bumping my nose against him – “Seriously, thank you for tonight. I had so much fun.”
Spencer slowly retracted his hands from mine and he opened his arms, welcoming me as I laid my head upon his chest. “I had fun too. Thank you.”
I couldn’t wait to admire all the marks he left all over my body.
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TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove @reidselle @r-3dlips @alicentswife @hcneyblossoms @topguncultleader
BROKEN TAGS @singinghamtaro @Florebore
474 notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
Text
whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
3K notes · View notes
strawbeerossi · 5 months
Text
Taking Calls
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Whenever a man who makes you feel uncomfortable asks for your number, you give him your boyfriend’s number instead. Whenever he texts him all day and finally decides to call, Spencer plans on taking care of it.
Content/Warnings: Minor case details (nothing explicit), creep officer, loving boyfriend Spencer, intimidation mention, kissing, unprotected sex, Spencer answers a phone call in the middle of sex (I didn’t know how to word that so it works lmao.)
Word Count: 1.2K
Anon Request: I had a spicy idea where a creepy cop tries to get readers number for “work purposes” and instead she gives him Spencer’s number and the cop happens to call Spencer and reader while he’s in the middle of fucking reader or the reader is in the middle of giving him a blowjob and the cop sort of hears her in the background? I just thought you’d be the perfect person to write this 😍
Navigation || Criminal Minds Masterlist || Request
🏷️ @kr-1-sta @iluvreid @nervousmoongiver @multifandom-on-the-side @ferrjulie @lov1ngreid @sobbingcryingattsizzles @doriantomybasil @thegluesong @rosiehale23
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Spencer had his number given out before due to a prank on Derek’s end that had so many people blowing up his phone. It was something he vowed that he would get the man back for and specifically state that it could never happen again.
The team was on a case in Manhattan, a standard killer who had an awakened blood lust was terrorizing the city. After six victims, the NYPD felt it was best to invite the BAU onto the case, which seemed to be too little too late due to the man going dormant.
Every lead was buried so deep that you’d need an excavator to dig them up, still the team persisted. You were currently on day three, staying back at the police precinct along with Dave to interview the families of the deceased, hoping to dig up any leads.
You had currently stepped out for a brief break, standing by the coffee machine as you were getting one of the disposable cups, filling it to the brim with a healthy mixture of coffee and sugar. “Hey, Y/L/N, correct?” A voice came from behind you, making you turn to look over the person addressing you. Officer Laslow. “Hi, yes. That’s me. How can I help you?” You asked, eyebrows raising.
You didn’t like to judge people, however you had a very uneasy feeling around him. The way he was looking at you was a good enough reason to be uncomfortable, the man seeming to mentally undress you as he stared into your soul. “I was just wondering if your team had any leads? I mean, I’m sure the families know something,” He spoke, making you sigh as your shoulders slumped. “Nothing, unfortunately.” You spoke while sipping from the coffee cup in your hands.
“Nothing? What a shame. I was actually wondering if you and I could exchange numbers? No funny business, I’m just wanting to make sure we can stay in communication throughout this case. You know, share intel.”
He could’ve just asked Aaron for updates. However, in the moment of being uncomfortable and not knowing what to say, you were clearing your throat. “Well. Okay.. Just for intel though.” You murmured, slowly taking the device from his hands to put in Spencer’s number instead of your own. You’d explain things to your boyfriend later. Until then, you were doing the next best option. Spencer could handle this. You were sure of it.
As another day passed and there was no leads, the team was retreating to the hotel for the night to try and get some rest, even if they were overly focused on trying to catch the murderer running around freely. “Honey, I have a question.” Spencer began as he was walking from the bathroom, a pair of flannel pyjama pants and a white t-shirt clinging to his lanky frame. “I’ve just had a lot of texts today. The person is addressing you by name. Wanna talk about who you gave my number to?” He asked softly. He knew it had to be a big deal if you wouldn’t give someone your number.
“Some creep on the NYPD team. You should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Spencer. It made me so uncomfortable.” You shivered while looking over at your boyfriend. “I’m sorry that I gave him your number. I didn’t know what else to do.” The feeling of his hand rubbing your shoulder caused your body to relax, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“I’m not upset with you by any means. I just wanted to ask. He didn’t try and touch you or force himself on you, right?” He asked, slowly letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as you shook your head. “No. Nothing like that. He was just twice my size and intimidating. I mean, he could’ve hurt me if I rejected him.” In this job, Spencer saw cases like that far too much, so he believed it.
“Come here.” He spoke while slowly pressing a few kisses against your cheek. “It’ll be okay. I’ll speak with Hotch about it tomorrow. It’ll get taken care of.” He smiled, the back of his knuckle gently caressing your cheek. “How did I get so lucky to be with you?” You asked softly, offering a smile as you leaned against his touch. “I’m the lucky one.” He mused, now moving to press a sweet kiss against your lips.
However, the kiss was only cut short whenever he could hear the ringtone on his phone designated for texts. “This guy is a real piece of work.” Your boyfriend muttered against your lips, opting to ignore the incessant sounds coming from his phone as he carried on your shared kiss. As the kids deepened, his hands were working to push your shirt over your head before his hands were working on your work pants. You hadn’t changed just yet, so he felt like he was definitely helping you out in the grand scheme of things.
Once you were undressed to his liking, it wasn’t long until your own hands were pushing at his clothes to bring him to the same level of unclothed as you were. “Lay down.” Spencer breathed as he broke the kiss, watching you push yourself back in bed before he was crawling on top of you to attach your lips once more. You were both eager, a lot of stress from this case as well as your own yearning for pleasure making things go just a little faster than usual. He used one hand to bring one of your legs around his waist, which prompted you to mirror your actions with your other leg.
Pushing your panties to the side, your boyfriend wasted no time pushing his cock inside of your eager cunt, a low groan leaving his lips as the hand propping him up was gripping the sheets. “Fuck. I love you.” He whispered, pressing a few sweet kisses to your lips. For once today, you felt like you could forget the officer from earlier, to enjoy the moment. Until Spencer was getting a call. “Are you kidding?” He huffed out of frustration, hips still thrusting at a slow pace as he was reaching over to take his cellphone from the bedside table.
“W-we should stop.” You breathed, knowing he had to take the call judging by the look on his face. “No. No, just lay there and take it, pretty girl. I’m gonna settle this once and for all.” He murmured. Before you could object, he was swiping to answer the call. “I don’t appreciate being ignored.” The male on the other end of the phone huffed. Just hearing his slimy voice had Spencer cringing. Using his shoulder to hold the phone up to his ear, he let out a soft breath. His hips thrusted into you at a faster speed, your lip tucked between your teeth as you really did try to keep quiet.
“She’s busy but I can take a message.” Spencer answered as if he wasn’t jackhammering you into the mattress right now, whines and moans slipping from your lips as you couldn’t hold them back anymore. “Who is this?” The officer asked, now his annoyance being clear as day. “Spencer!” You gasped out, answering his question without even being aware of it.
“You heard her. Tell the nice man on the phone who has the pleasure of fucking you.” Spencer grunted, making you red in the face as you gripped his upper arms. “You!”
“My name, baby. Tell him who gets to take you home every night.”
“Spencer!” You panted, head tossed back as he was pounding into your sweet spot.
“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. I hope you get the hint.” He murmured.
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gubsbuubs · 12 days
Text
Headache Relief
(18+)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4.5K
Warnings: Sex duh, creampie.
Summary: When Spencer seeks relief for his intense headaches, he finds more than just painkillers in Y/n's room.
A/N: Hi everyone, I've been away... I know... I know. This bar exam prep is kicking my ass. I've got some other works on the way but I had to finish this one and share it with you guys.
English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
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Y/n laid on the bed, her tired eyes scanning the pages of the worn book, the weight of today's concluded case still heavy on her mind. The darkened motel room was softly illuminated by the gentle glow of the muted television, casting faint shadows that danced across the walls. Her peace was abruptly shattered by a knock at her door, soft yet insistent, pulling her away from the comfort of the pages.
Glancing at the bedside clock, the red digits of 1:52 glowed back at her, stirring a sense of urgency.
Could something have happened? Her worry mounted with each passing second. With a quick exhale, she rose from the bed, her heart pounding with apprehension. Her slender fingers fumbled with the lock as she approached the door, anticipation gnawing at her. When it swung open, she was met with a sight that caused her stomach to twist with concern.
There he stood, his appearance disheveled, his exhaustion evident in the lines etched upon his face. The fingers of his left hand pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose, while his right hand leaned heavily against the wall for support. Dressed in a mismatched ensemble of a band shirt and pajama pants, he looked like he had been through a rough night.
"Spence?!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with worry, the concern evident in her tone.
His bloodshot eyes met hers, "Y/n, I'm sorry... I know it's late," he murmured, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"Are you okay?" Her hand instinctively reached out to touch his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips.
"I….I need your help…" His breathing was ragged, and his words came out in a rush, "It´s happening again," he admitted, vulnerability seeping through.
"Come in" Y/n said softly, tugging lightly on his shoulder.
He sat on the end of her bed, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of his posture. She closed the door behind her, the soft click echoing in the dimly lit room. Turning to face him, she found him hunched over, his hands pressed firmly against the sides of his temples as he massaged his own head, his face contorting in pain.
"I... I know you always carry a pouch of medicine everywhere you go," he began, "I thought... maybe you could help me."
Y/n's heart softened at the vulnerability in his voice, realizing he must be in significant pain to ask for medicine, so without a word, she crossed the room. Rummaging through her bag, her fingers closed around a small pill bottle, and then she grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge.
With a sense of urgency, she handed them to Spencer before sitting by his side.
"Here, Spence," she said softly. "Take this. It should help."
Spencer accepted the pill and water with gratitude, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to open the cap. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed the pill with a gulp of water, placing the bottle on the floor afterward
A moment of silence passed, and Spencer attempted to stand, but his head swam with dizziness. Y/n reacted swiftly, rising faster than anticipated to catch him just as his legs gave way beneath him.
With a gentle yet firm grip, she guided him back down onto the bed, her heart racing as he sat back down.
"Whoa, whoa, Spence, are you okay?" Her voice was filled with worry as she steadied him, her hands offering support and holding him upright. "I think you might need to lie down for a bit," she suggested, concern evident in her eyes.
He opened his mouth to talk, even looked up to lock his eyes with hers, but feeling unsteady he leaned forward, and breath in deeply as his head came to rest against her stomach.
"I'm sorry," he rushed, his voice muffled against her, "The dizziness... it's from the pain" his words tinged with frustration. "It'll pass as soon as the medication kicks in."
As he attempted to lift his head, another wave of dizziness washed over him, causing him to sway once again. Y/n instinctively pulled him closer, stepping between his legs and encouraging him to hug her waist for support. "Hey, it's okay, Spence," she reassured "Just hold on to me until you feel better. I'm here for you."
"I'm sorry," his voice was soft and as low as whisper.
“Shhhhhh” Her right hand met the back of his head, applying gentle pressure to certain points.
"I just… I don't want to impose on your space, I just..." His sentence was interrupted by a relieved sigh, the tension slowly melting away under her comforting touch.
"Spencer, that's what friends are for," Y/n murmured softly, as she continued to massage his head, the tension gradually ebbing away.
As her words reached his ears, Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for having such a caring friend by his side.
"Friend… right...." he taught to himself.
Amidst the urgency for the relief of mediation and the dizziness that followed, he'd become oblivious to the situation he found himself in. His hands intertwined around her, gripping tighthy on her waist, his head nestled against her stomach, while her gentle touch sought to alleviate his suffering.
In that moment, the intimacy of their position became glaringly apparent. Yes they were just friends, yet here they were, intertwined in a way that transcended mere friendship.
Another sigh of relief left Spencer's lips as he felt her touch soothe his pain and provide a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"Is this helping?" She asked gently.
"Yeah, it is. Thank you, Y/n," Spencer replied gratefully, lightly nodding his head against her stomach.
She looked down at him, nestled against her, he looked calm, relieved, like he belongs close to her.
She paused the movement of her fingers for a moment, considering how she could further alleviate his discomfort. "Maybe I could massage your head. That could help, right?"
Spencer nodded once again, lightly lifting his chin to grace her with a faint smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Actually, head massages can be quite effective for relieving headaches," he said, slipping into his familiar role of sharing facts and statistics. "They help to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension, which can provide significant relief from pain."
"Well then, let me try something," Slowly, she stepped away, feeling his hands brush against her sides and hips as she moved back. With measured steps, Y/n climbed into the bed behind him, settling against the headboard. Spencer turned his head back slightly to look at her, a hint of confusion evident in his expression.
He watched her as she motioned with her hand, encouraged him, "Come here, lay back." She patted the sheets between her legs, inviting him to find comfort in her embrace.
As Spencer looked at her, the world around him seemed to fade into the background. His gaze traveled up her legs, lingering on the bare skin of her thighs barely covered by her shorts and the oversized shirt that draped over her frame. Despite the pain that throbbed in his head, he couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him. There was a softness in her features, a gentleness in the way she sat against the headboard, her legs spread slightly, inviting him closer.
A wince of pain brought him back to reality, and with a nod, he complied, scooting back onto the bed and laying back into her embrace.
His head found its place between her legs, his head lightly leaning onto her lower stomach, the warmth of the bare skin of her thighs brushing against his cheeks and neck.
Despite the pain, his mind started to wander as he laid there.
As her fingers worked their way through his hair, easing the tension in his temples, Spencer's thoughts began to drift. He couldn't help but be acutely aware of the softness of her skin against his face, and the delicate scent of florals that surrounded her.
As they lingered in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/n's gentle massage continued to soothe Spencer's temples. Though the pain started to subsided, the thoughts of her only seemed to intensify, swirling through his mind like a tempestuous storm. Lost in his reverie, Spencer's awareness heightened as he glanced down and noticed … his pants were a little tighter now.
A wave of embarrassment washed over him as he realized the effect she was having on him. Quickly he sat up, his cheeks burning and his breathing picking up speed.
"Is everything okay, Spencer?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. "Did I hurt you?"
Spencer hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't want to admit that he got hard and now had to leave the room, but the concern in her eyes urged him to speak.
"No, no, you didn't do anything wrong," Spencer stammered, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "You were a real help, but I should leave. I don't want to... You should rest now." As he attempted to get up and leave the bed, Y/n's hand shot out, grabbing his arm firmly. She tried to meet his eyes but his gaze kept shifting away, so Y/n's eyes inadvertently wandered downward, drawn by a curious instinct. And there it was, beneath the fabric of his pijama pants, a subtle but unmistakable tenting. Heat flooded her cheeks as realization dawned on her, and her hand instinctively flew left of his arm to cover her surprised mouth.
"I... I..." Spencer began, his words catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right thing to say. Despite his attempts to speak, the words remained elusive, trapped on the tip of his tongue like a fleeting thought.
"I need to go," he finally muttered getting up. But before he could make a move to leave, Y/n's hand now met his, halting him in his tracks.
"Spencer, wait," she implored, her tone gentle yet firm, her eyes searching for understanding.
"Y/n, I... I'm so sorry," the words tumbled from his lips in a rush of guilt and regret. "You've been such a great friend, and I couldn't help but..." he sighed heavily.
"Oh, you probably think I´m such a pervert..." His voice trailed off, unable to continue, as shame washed over him. He felt like he had crossed a line, making her uncomfortable in a way he had never intended.
"You don't need to apologize," she said, "And you're not a perv, you haven't made me uncomfortable."
"What?" he asked in disbelief, looking up at her with confusion in his eyes.
Y/n smiled softly, "I understand Spencer."
"You understand?" His eyebrows were furrowed, and his heart was racing.
"Humm humm," she nodded her head, looking up in to his eyes.
"What do you mean?" He asked, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside him.
He watched closely, as she gently took his hand, guiding it down until his fingertips met the warmth of her covered core. His breath caught in his throat as a rush of heat surged through him, his heart pounding with a mixture of shock and desire.
"I understand," she whispered softly, her voice filled with desire.
Spencer's mind reeled with the intensity of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her arousal and the softness of her touch. He felt a surge of longing flood through him, a primal urge driving him to lean in closer, to explore the depths of her desire.
"Are you sure?" Spencer's voice almost faltered as he felt the wetness seeping through the fabric. His heart pounded in his chest. As he gazed into her eyes, he saw nothing but longing and desire reflected back at him.
She nodded, her lips parted in anticipation of what was to come. With a gentle touch, his hand met her cheek, guiding her closer until their lips met in a passionate kiss.
The intensity of their kiss grew, fueling their desire as Spencer's hand ventured boldly, tracing circles over her covered clit. A small moan escaped her as his tongue brushed her bottom lip asling for enterence.
"Fuck," she gasped, her breath hitching as she felt the bed dip beneath her. Her heart raced with anticipation as Spencer knelt before her, his gaze filled with hunger and desire.
With trembling hands, Spencer reached for the hem of her clothing. Before he peeled away the fabric, he looked up at her, his gaze searching for reassurance.
"Do you want me too keep going, Y/n?" he whispered, his voice tinged with urgency. He needed to be certain that she was ready to take this step with him, to surrender to the passion that burned between them.
Y/n met his gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes... yes... I need you, Spence," she whined.
With a shaky breath, Spencer slowly dragged the fabric of her shorts down her legs, his hands trembling with anticipation as he revealed her nakedness to him. Y/n watched him with bated breath, a flush of heat spreading across her skin as her clothing fell away, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. She reached for the hem of her shirt, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric before she managed to pull it over her head, tossing it aside with a sense of urgency. Now fully exposed, she stood before him, her body illuminated by the soft glow of the room.
Spencer's gaze trailed over her naked form. He watched intently as the slight chill in the air caused her nipples to harden, standing erect against the smooth curve of her breasts.
Y/n felt utterly exposed, her body laid bare before him.
With a steady hand, Spencer reached out, his touch gentle yet firm as he took her right nipple between his index and middle finger. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt the sensation ripple through her. She arched her back instinctively.
"Fuck... please," Y/n whimpered, her voice laced with desperation as she parted her legs further, inviting him closer. With a sense of urgency, she reached for his hand, guiding it to where she wanted it most.
Feeling her warmth and wetness against his fingers, Spencer's desire surged as he explored her delicate folds. Now there was no fabric between the soft skin of his fingers and the warm, slick slit of her pussy. He moaned at the sigth and teased her with slow, deliberate strokes.
Spencer's breath hitched as he added another finger, the sensation of her tightness and warmth driving him wild with desire. With each movement of his fingers, he couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly she fit around him.
"God, you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I can't even imagine how good you'll feel wrapped around my cock."
The thought of being buried deep inside her, of feeling her tightness enveloping him completely, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.
As Y/n writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure, her moans filled the room. "Please," she gasped, her voice thick with need. "Fuck me, Spencer. I need you."
Spencer withdrew his fingers from within her, eliciting a soft whimper of protest from Y/n. But before she could voice her longing, he brought his fingers to her parted lips.
"Open," he commanded.
Without hesitation, Y/n obeyed, parting her lips to accept his fingers in to her mouth. With a hunger that mirrored his own, she sucked eagerly, tasting herself on his skin. The raw intensity of the moment sent a thrill coursing through her, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing second.
As she eagerly licked and sucked his fingers clean, Spencer's hands moved to the waistband of his pajama pants, his movements urgent and determined. With a quick motion, he undid the strings, discarded his pajama pants and shirt, revealing his throbbing erection that sprang free. Y/n's gaze locked onto his member, her eyes widening with desire as she took in his arousal.
As Spencer lightly stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers, he whispered, "Imagine how good it will feel inside of you,"
Oh, what a sigth! Her eyebrows furrowed in a plea, and her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured. "I need to be inside you." He positioned himself, aligning his throbbing length with her entrance. With a sense of urgency, she reached behind him, grabbing a handful of his ass, urging him forward as he lowered himself onto her.
With a shared moan, he entered her completely. The sensation of him filling her to the hilt overwhelming their senses.
Spencer began by fucking her slowly, his movements deliberate and passionate, savoring every moment of their intimate connection. As he thrusted into her with a gentle rhythm, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, seeking to subside her moans of pleasure.
Her hands tangled in the curls at the back of his head, in response Spencer tilted his head back slightly, letting out a throaty moan. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "You're so fucking tight."
"Oh, Spence," she gasped, her breath hitching with pleasure as his movements intensified. "You feel so good, filling me up like this."
"You like that, baby?" Spencer's voice was low and sultry. "You like feeling my cock deep inside you, making you mine?"
"Yes," she moaned. "I want you to take me. I want you to fuck me harder."
Spencer's thrusts grew faster and the bed creaked beneath them, the wooden frame protesting the force of their passion. His right hand gripped her thigh forcefully, his fingers digging into her skin as he sought to anchor himself to her. Meanwhile, the fingers of his left hand found their way to her clit once again, expertly stroking the sensitive nub with each rhythmic movement.
With each thrust, his hips rocked against hers, driving deeper into her. The sensation of him filling her so completely sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment.
Y/n's hands roamed over his back, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles as she clung to him for dear life. Her nails dug into his skin with every powerful thrust, leaving crescent-shaped imprints.
"Are you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" Spencer's voice was low against her ear as he pounded into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Oh fuck, yes…" she moaned. "God, yes, I want to cum so badly."
"I'm close, too," he admitted, his voice strained with pleasure.
As Y/n's moans intensified, Spencer continued to pound into her with relentless fervor, his movements synchronized with the rhythm of her impending climax. With each thrust, he felt her walls clenching around him, the tightness driving him to the edge of control.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice strained with desperation, "let me cum inside. I need to feel you come undone around me."
With a fervent nod, Y/n surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body, her walls clenching around his cock as she reached her orgasm.
The feeling of her tightness milking him was all it took to push Spencer over the edge. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his hips grinding against his own release washing over him in powerful waves as they came together.
They stayed there, tangled together, basking in the aftermath of their shared passion. The room was filled with a hazy, contented silence as they caught their breath.
Eventually, Spencer stirred, untangling himself from Y/n's embrace with a reluctant sigh. "I'll grab us a towel," he murmured, slipping out of bed and padding to the bathroom.
Returning moments later, he set to work cleaning them both up, his movements gentle and unhurried. There was a quiet intimacy to the way he wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking, as if each touch carried a silent promise of care and affection.
Once they were both cleaned up, Spencer rejoined Y/n in bed, pulling her close once again as they settled into the warmth of each other's arms.
"Hey, how's your head feeling now?" She asked softly with genuine care.
Spencer looked into her eyes, a grateful smile spreading across his face. "Much better. Thank you for caring about me and for taking care of me."
"I'm glad you came knocking on my door," she replied warmly.
Spencer chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you know what else helps to increase blood flow and reduce muscle tension?" He quipped with a playful smirk.
"Now we know what to do next time you have a headache." With a smile, Y/n leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.
1K notes · View notes
weehelers · 5 months
Text
IN RUINS 2
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PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader
SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?
IMPORTANT COMMENT!!!!: hi my pumpkin cupcake stinky wonky pookie bears. IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN A FRAUD! 💔💔 jokes but I’m rlly sorry I haven’t been writing for the past months ive been to the hospital multiple times and also had someone close to me pull a ‘I’m dead’ card on me and then I was oh! BUT I think I’m okay I think I’m better and I’ll start posting more I have a lot of ideas but tbh this one was a draft before allat happened so it’s shit but and I wanted to get rid of it cus it js reminded me of everything that happened before 😭 BUT I’m rlly rlly sorry ITS SO LATE
" why is your mom calling you she hasn't called you in 7 months " scott anderson says rubbing his face repeatedly his fingers shaking, his other hand is in a fist digging his nails in the palm of his hand. he walks away from jj who's tied up on the floor with her feet and hands wrapped in rope. the grip on your phone tightens.
" she's calling me because it was my aunts birthday scott." you say looking at scott in the eyes. he stands up biting his nails. " your lying to me." he says walking to you, his eyes dark. you wish his eyes at-least looked like they had nothing behind them, but his eyes definitely have something behind them.
his eyes look determined. they looked commited. and he’s looking at you. your eyes widen. your hands become sweaty. you take a step back. “ i’m not lying to you scott.” you respond back gently shaking your head. you raise your eyebrows softly smiling at him. “ i wouldn’t lie to you scott.” you say the grip on your hand tightening to the point where your hand is shaking.
his gaze softens for a second, his eyes aren't so dark now. his eyebrows soften. " you wouldn't lie to me y/ n?" he whispers gently walking up to you. you nod gulping, " ¡ wouldn't lie to you scotty" you whisper smiling. he smiles. taking another step towards you. you take a deep breath in.
"y-your doing a great job y/n" spencer's shaky voice speaks into the phone. it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. he sounds nervous. you can hear him gulp repeatedly. he's stuttering a lot right now. he's probably blinking a lot. a habit he has when he's nervous. a habit you've absorbed from afar. " your doing a really really great job y/n. i'm so proud of you." no he shouldn't have said that. he should not have said that. he shouldn't have said that. you tear up. why are you tearing up? you can't tear up right now. not right now. please not right now.
your throat feels heavy. your heart feels heavy. a part of you feels funny. your ears feel funny, never having heard those words before. your brain is trying to process the words. it can't process them. it's funny though. no matter how much insane messed up stuff you've heard on the job none of it really ever seemed to take a toll on you. but hearing those 5 words. it's taking a toll on you. and it's not the right time. why are they so triggering. what are they triggering? the inner child inside of you who never got to hear those words? the teen inside of you who never got to hear those words? or is it adult you who still hadn't heard those words up until now? it's too much. why are you tearing up?
“ why are you crying.” scott says. something in his eyes has changed. oh god. his eyes darken. his eyebrows tighten. he’s shaking his head smiling. “ what is your mom saying? why is she making you cry? do you want me to kill her?” he says with pleading eyes smiling. he’s taking a step towards you. “ or are you not talking to your mom right now…” he mumbles. your eyes widen. you shake your head. “ or…your not calling your mom you bitch!” he shouts taking another step towards you. you don’t have time to react. he grabs you by the neck slamming you against the wall. his hand tightens around your neck.
you choke on your words. the tears that gathered up finally start to fall. your free hand wraps around scott's arm thats choking you. you repeatedly hit his arm. " please stop." you plead shaking your head. his grip tightens on your neck. " your a liar. your just like him." he spits his gaze darkening. he grabs your phone throwing it across the room. it knocks over a glass vase.
"¡'m not like him." you choke out shaking your head. " shut up! yes you are!" he shouts in your voice, spit getting on your face.
" let her go!" ji shouts from the floor. her voice cracks mid sentence. probably due to fear. watching you struggle is affecting her. just watching you struggle makes her feel as though she is the one struggling.
scott turns his head around. " what did you just say?" he says slowly releasing you. you take a deep breath in. you look at scott. another wave of fear hits you. what's he gonna say to jj? what's he gonna do to jj? she shouldn't have said anything. she should've kept quiet. he can't hurt her. you have to do something.
" i said let her go. you can't hurt her. she's what you want right? you can't hurt her. why would you hurt someone you love?" jj says her eyes darting between you and scott. to scott she looks desperate, to you. you know what jj's trying to say with her eyes.' we will be fine. seeing ji look at you like that. a rush of adrenaline hit you. you have got to do something. why are your hands so weak. why do you feel as though you don't have control of your body. why do you feel as though you can't control anything. damn it.
" you show love by hurting the ones you love." he whispers. you slowly reach for the gun in your pocket, trying not to alert him. and god is it hard " y/ n would know." he says chuckling. your so close to the gun. " isn't that right y/n?" he turns around to look at you. he sees your hand. he sees the hand thats reaching for the gun. he grabs your gun. your hand immediately forms into a fist, you punch him in the jaw. he falls back. holding his jaw. " you bitch!" he shouts.
you run to jj. you drop down to your knees. your shaky hands immediately start to undo the knots of the rope. "jj you need to get out." you say out of breathe. your trembling hands making it harder to undo the rope quickly. " no- what. y/n dont. i'm not leaving without you. the team is coming t-they're on their way y/n. ji says shaking her head in denial. her hands are untied. " god jj! i always follow your orders! just follow mine! just this once." you snap back moving onto her legs. you untie her. " get out of here now jj! he wont hurt me jj. hes obsessed with me he wont. trust me." you say nodding.
jj hasn't been a profiler for a long time. anyone else on the team would've called you out for your bullshit right now. if he wanted to hurt you. he definitely would. he would do anything to get you to be obedient. he could probably kill you if he wanted to. but jj doesn't know that. she thinks he's just a stalker who's obsessed with you and probably wouldn't seriously harm you. but you know unsubs like him all too well.
ji stands up running to the door. she opens the door. she turns to look at you again. you look at her and smile. " just go." you mouth. she quickly nods running out and closing the door. a wave of relief washes over you. jj is fine. jj is okay. jj is safe. he can't hurt jj anymore.
your not fine. your not okay. your not safe. he can keep hurting you. you turn around. he's standing right behind you. he's looking down at you. he's standing tall. his eyes are on you. his expression is dark. his eyes are empty. not a single thought behind his eyes. you were wrong. his eyes without a single thought behind them is scarier. because now you know, there's nothing really stopping him. there's no determination. there's no commitment. there's absolutely nothing behind those eyes. those eyes that are just about to do you harm.
“ me looking down on you…does this remind you of anything?” he says tilting his head to the side smiling. you shake your head. but oh boy do you know exactly what he’s talking about. your dad. “ oh right sorry. let me do something that will surely make you remember.” he says chuckling. he crouches down. he punches you right in the eye, your left eye. the one with the healed over stitches. you stiffen at his touch. not just because your scared of him. yeah of course your scared of him. but also because you’ve never had someone touch you in such an intimate place. you’ve never had someone grab your cheek and gently caress your scars.
he starts laughing. " oh my god let me see that" he gently grabs your cheek. tilting your head up towards him. he runs his finger on the scar. " he did that didnt he?" he whispers gently rubbing the scar. " he gave you this scar didnt he? i read it.. in one of your hospital records. he gave you this 2 weeks before he left right?" he whispers gently caressing the scar. your shaky hands reaches for his cheek.
he stiffens at your touch. he's just like you. " he gave this to you..right?" you whisper, gently caressing the cut on his lips. scott nods. " you and me.we are the same y/n. we both grew up in the same households. we both put up the same abuse. we..we are meant for each other y/n. your meant for me. and i'm meant for you." he whispers caressing your cheek gently. you nod.
" yeah.yeah we belong together." you mumble nodding gently.
i thought so too..until i saw a picture of you and your co worker spencer reid together." he whispers softly still smiling. your eyes widen. " w-what." you mumble. he chuckles, " yeah.i saw a picture of you two together. it was when you and your team were working that case in chicago." he whispers tightening his grip on your cheek. you shake your head.
" s-spencer? spencer reid? he-he means absolutely nothing to me." you say gently reaching for his hand. " don't lie to me." he whispers tearing up. " i'm not lying to you scott." you whisper rubbing your thumb gently against his arm. " your lying to
me. all you do is lie. your just like him." he whispers tears rolling down his cheeks. " i'm not like him scott." you whisper shaking your head, trying to calm him.
" your just like him.you lying bitch." he shakes his head standing up, forcefully pulling you up with him. his fingers dig deeply into your cheeks, surely 100% going to leave a mark. but who cares at this point.
" scott just listen to me-' he cuts your desperate cries with a punch to the mouth. you fall down to the floor, on purpose however. you want him to think your weak. your worn out. he can easily control you. he can easily throw you around like a rag doll. so he can feel some sense of confidence and have a sense of control. something he probably never experienced.
"i'm not listening to you. now you listen to me. you... you listen to me y/n. we are both the same person. we deserve absolutely nothing. we deserve everything our fathers did to us-"
" you know that's not true scott." someone speaks up from behind scott. their voice is strong and stern. it brings you comfort. never would you have thought, laying on the floor with blood dripping down your chin that the sound of someone's voice would bring you comfort. your heart feels warm. you can feel the familiarity of having control over your body come back. you smile. how could you be smiling at a time like this? your smiling. really hard while looking down at the floor. you refused to look up at scott. you refuse to do so.
because deep down you know you would be staring at the version of yourself that's buried deep inside you. that part inside you that keeps you wondering everyday, if you didn't take the path you took would you be like that. would you have done the same thing he had done? what makes him so different from you. just because you carry an id that gives you power over any normal civilian and a gun that's supposed to protect you and others. that doesn't make you any different though. because even though you have those things, you still think like scott. what if you truly don't deserve anyone in this world that would treat you with respect? what if you truly deserve someone as messed up as fucked up ad you are? because then they wouldn't understand right? they wouldn't understand how your mind works. but..like scott said. you probably deserve someone like scott, someone so sick and twisted-
why are you like this. why are you taking his words to heart. are you really that desperate and pathetic that you start taking an unsubs words to heart just because he shared an intimate moment with you. why? is it because you never in your life had experienced something like that and now you yearn for it? you start to believe every word he's said. your so naive. and your so vain. how can you be so gullible. why are you the way that you are. none of what scott said is true. none of it, absolutely none of it.
your too preoccupied with your brain breaking you down too notice two people coming over to you. your zoning out. your thinking hard. really hard. something like this requires a lot of thinking. but it shouldn't though. your supposed to just shrug off his words. not pay any mind to them. he's a mentally ill unsub who's murdered 5 women. nothing he says should make you reason with his thinking. there's nothing to reason with. he's insane. your not insane. your not insane. your just a girl who's seen some insane things.
" hey. your okay. i got you." morgan says gently grabbing you by the arms. "i got you y/n." he whispers picking you up gently. you stand up looking at the wall infront of you still zoned out. " hey y/n." emily pats your shoulder gently tilting her head to the side looking at you with such pain. you shake your head and look at both of them. " hi emily." you respond looking at emily blinking repeatedly. " hey you." she says smiling. " we've gotta get you to the ambulance come on y/n." morgan says wrapping his arms around you, pushing you into him.
" j-i don't need medical care morgan." you say trying to push your heavy head away but finding it way too hard. he feels too comfortable. too comforting. he feels too nice. his cologne smells masculine. really masculine. why is it comforting? why does it bring you comfort? you close your tired eyes for a second. " hey hey don't close your eyes on me I/n." morgan says tilting his head around to take a look at you, you shake your head softly. " i'm not dying morgan." you groan.
emily chuckles. " morgan's probably enjoying this." emily says wrapping up arm around her shoulder helping you walk, " cant have derek enjoying himself too much we all know how cocky he'll get and how high his ego will sky rocket." emily adds on looking at you smiling. her words make you chuckle. a painful chuckle. when your lips curve to let out a laugh a wave of pain washes over your face. "ow ow." you chuckle closing your eyes. morgan shakes his head,
"yeah you wish you can have a bit of this ego." morgan replies.
rossi opens the house door. his eyes immediately look to you. " it's alright i've got her." he says running to you. " derek go take care of reid he's in the ambulance." rossi says putting his gun away. morgan slowly and gently lets you go. rossi quickly replaces morgan. your head immediately shoots up. that hurt. you didn't even know you could do that. why did your head shoot up so quickly? just a second ago you were leaning into morgan for support because you couldn't bare to hold your head up and now suddenly you have all the energy in the world to shoot your head up.
"w-wait whys reid in the ambulance?" you ask your eyes wide, your pretty sure your eyes are half closed though. you can't bare to hold them open. you can already feel your left eye bruising. you can taste blood in your mouth. and you know there's blood dripping down from your eyebrows, from the healed over stitch. rossi and emily push you forward helping you walk. why aren't they answering you? what happened to reid? whys he in an ambulance? is he injured? what's wrong with spencer? what happened to spence? " i think that's a question he should answer." rossi says. what does that mean?
your quickly brought out of the house, thank god. you feel like if you spent another second in there you would go ballistic and break down crying. your heads down, your too tired. you see a pair of shoes infront of you. who's shoes are those? who is that? and why did they stop right infront of you? it's not spencer. spence would never wear those shoes. he was wearing converse earlier. dark blue converse. why do you remember all of this? don't you have some sort of concussion? how do you remember what pair of shoes spencer wore? god...
you feel emily and rossi's grip weaken around you. the unfamiliar person infront of you reaches forward and takes you. they lead you away from rossi and emily. your too tired to even care. they lean you against them. " where's...what's wrong with dr spencer reid?" you mumble stumbling in their hood barely having the energy to hold yourself up. " it's alright i°ve got you. here." they sit you down on something. there's bright red lights flashing around you. an ambulance.
" ma'am i'm gonna get an IV bag started is that alright with you?" the medic asks opening a cabinet. you nod your head hazily. you lean your head against the walls of the ambulance. he takes your arm rolling your sleeve up. you feel the soft pinch. your thankful for it though. it's stopping you from dissociating and falling asleep. you don't wanna fall asleep until someone tells you why spencer is in an ambulance. why do you care for him? why do you care for him after everything's he said- oh right. after what he's said. why do you care for him after he just publicly embarrassed you? that's so stupid. why are you so pathetic and desperate. did he publicly embarrass you? half of the team probably already knew. it's not that hard to figure out. it’s probably why you are the way that you are. they’re profilers. of course they would figure that out. what he said was true. they all probably agree. oh god..
" let me go! let me go! i don't need medical attention she needs it more than me! let me see her!" you hear a voice shout from the distance, you recognise it. your heartbeat quickens. not like earlier though. not in the way your heartbeat quickened earlier. that was in fear. no. this. this is in relief. your stomach starts to stir. in nervousness. your still leaning your head against the wall, but your looking down. your hair covering your face. you stop hearing his voice.
" ma'am i need you to lift your head up." the medic says gently placing a tray next to you, a tray your guessing is full of medical supplies and alcohol. you softly nod your head sitting up. the medic grabs one of the medical instrument opening the wrapping. he moves to the side to quickly put on gloves.
“ oh my god y/n..” you hear him say your name, in so so much pain. he sounds so upset. is he in pain? why does he sound so upset. what happened to him. is he okay. you look up. you see him. you look into his eyes. and suddenly all the words he’s said earlier rush buck into your clouded messy mind. but they don’t hurt as much. your so used to men blurting out hurtful words to you and you having to get over them, what else do you do? ask them to apologise? expect them to apologise?
no. they don’t do that. they’ve never done that. best thing to do is just get over it, because you probably deserve it right? that’s what you were taught.
he looks tired. his eye bags look darker than what they usually would look like. his hair is messier then usual. the two buttons on his dark blue vest are unbuttoned. he’s wearing his fbi vest. his dark blue pants have wet stains on the side of them. your guessing because he would repeatedly wipe his sweaty hands on them. a habit he has when he’s nervous.
he looks into your eyes. he sees the bruise that's already forming in your eye. the trail of blood rolling down your eyebrow from what he can see, that scar you have. you have blood rolling down the side of your face. your neck is red. an imprint of a hand already appearing. his heart hurts. it hurts so much. seeing you like this. but how dare he right?
how dare he feel pain in his heart? the pain your feeling physically and mentally is probably 10x worse than what he’s feeling. he wishes he was feeling it though, he wishes that right in this second all your pain would be transferred to him. add it on to his pain. he feels so guilty. you don’t deserve this. this is his fault. this is his fault. this is all his fault. your never gonna look him in the eye again. whenever you do your gonna remember this day. and how much pain he put you through. he hates it. he hates it so much. he hates himself so much.
"y-y/n." he's out of breath. he doesn't know where to start. he didn't have time to think of an apology, spending the entire car ride panicking nervous about you and wether you were safe or not. but now he can't think of anything.
he can't think of anything when looking into your eyes, the only thing he's thinking of is how badly he wishes he can go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. or make all of this happen but only put himself in your shoes. make him go through all this pain instead of you. You don't deserve this. you don't deserve him. you don't deserve his stupid apology that's about to come, that is if he can even muster up an apology right now. you deserve so much better than him.
"y/n i'm so sorry." spencer starts shaking his head his eyes wide. he can't think of anything. his iq of 187 has suddenly dropped down to 20. spencer who seemed to never stop his rambling suddenly can't think of a single thing to ramble on. you just made him stupid. and not in the way it's supposed to be. you make him stupid when you smile at him. not like this. he can't think of anything. he doesn't know where to start. he shakes his head.
" god can't you do your job!" spencer snaps grabbing a medical wipe and pouring saline solution on it. he stands infront of you. his angry demeanour quickly vanishes once his infront of you. something just hit him. he freezes infront of you. it's like all the color, the little color he already had in his face has drained.
you look at him in confusion. all though your upset at him it doesn't stop you from caring and growing concerned. " w-what?" you say blinking repeatedly looking at him. hes still looking at you. his lips part. he blinks repeatedly. he shakes his head.
"i-i'm just..i got scared." he stutters his voice cracking. " why?" you ask tilting your head to the side. " i'm scared your gonna flinch once i touch you." he replies quickly. really quickly. any normal person wouldn't catch it. but you did. vou've learnt to keep up with spencer's quick rambling. oh. oh. whys he so considerate? y/n stop. you can think that. you look down at your thighs. unable to think of anything to say. if he did touch you. would you have flinched? would you have reacted? you don't know. but spencer's not him. right?
" i'm not gonna flinch spencer." you say looking up at him. he nods his head gulping, "a-alright." he says. he lifts his shaky hand up. he gently dabs the medical wipe on your cut. disinfecting it. ouch it burns. your nails dig into the palm of your hand. his eyes are stuck on the cut. the scar. he knows where it's from. he might've been with garcia when she did her usual background snooping on new members of the team 2 years ago. he remembers how guilty he felt after it. finding out about such a dark part of your life without your knowledge or permission.
but that guilt doesn't compare to the guilt he's feeling right now. he feels tremendously guilty, he caused the scar to re open. all because of his foolishness. if he just shut his mouth earlier and wasn't such a smart ass. if he maybe was the one to go with you to scott anderson's house and not jj he would've been able to protect you. he probably would've shot scott anderson the second he would've laid his hands on vou.
he doesn't trust himself aorund vou. atleast not from the harm of unsubs and has the need to shoot any of them if they ever did you harm. he would probably lose his job. if he was there he probably would've lost his job. but he doesn't care. for your safety. he doesn't care.
" i'm so sorry y/n-" you can feel the medical wipe shake on your eyebrow, from spencer's shaky hands.
" it's fine spencer." you mumble looking into his eyes. is it fine though? is it really fine? whys he apologising? he's not supposed to be apologising right? this is new. this is so very new. they never apologise after hurting you. this is so unfamiliar? how are you supposed to react? do you tell them how you really feel? do you immediately accept their apology? they never apologised to you when they hurt you. whys spencers apologising? what do you say?
" it's not fine y/n. i-i hurt you. i c-caused this." he says spitting his words out in a shaky manner. what do you say or do? you've never made it this far whenever something similar to this happened in the past.
" spencer it's fine. i shouldn't have egged you on earlier anyways-" why are you taking the blame. y/ n stop. it's not your fault. it never is your fault when something like this happens. y/n please. it's not your fault. stop taking the blame. his heart aches even more. his throat feels heavy. who hurt you like this? who broke your heart like this? who messed up your image of love like this? who hurt you this bad. he hates them. he hates them for making you like this.
" y/n i know you have the personal need to justify everything i've said but y/n stop, just stop. i hurt you okay. and even though saying that out loud and accepting the fact that i said that it thr worst thing i've ever done in my entire life it's nothing compared to what you felt when i said that. i don't wanna be like him y/n. i don't wanna be him. i don't want you to think i can be him. i don't want you to see him everytime you see me y/n. because that would kill me even more. y-you don't have to talk to me anymore y/n i just don't want you to flinch or have this horrible feeling of rememberence whenever you see me. please just.. just don't take the blame for this because it's my fault. this entire thing was my fault and i put you through this y/n. you don't deserve this. i'm really sorry.”
spencer rambles. trying to push the heavy feeling in his throat away. he can't cry. he doesn't deserve to cry right now. he's nervous though. he's nervous about what your gonna say. he doesn’t have the right to feel nervous though. he should accept whatever it is. he did this to himself. whatever the outcome is. he just hopes you don’t have a sense of fear wash over you whenever you look at him and get memories of this day. that is if you ever look at him after this day.
no one's ever said that to you. you feel your tired eyes tear up. your about to cry. oh no. spencer panics. does he comfort you? do you even want his comfort? he doesn't deserve to touch you, he thinks. he drops the medical wipe.
" n-no please don't cry. ill go call
over emily or jj or morgan or hotch just p-please dont cry. i'll go-" it physically aches him to leave you like this. but he has to. he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable. he just made you cry. you must really hate him. he understands though. he just wishes you understand how sorry he is. but you probably will never know. because you probably don't expect him to feel sorry, you probably think he's faking it. he just needs you to understand that he's not him. he's not your dad. spencer actually feels sorry. he feels so so sorry for everything he's done and said. but you had to put up with years of your dad taking apologises you probably don't believe his. he hates himself.
you stand up. you barely have room to think clearly before a tear rolls down your cheek. spencer immediately removes his fbi vest, you bury your head against spencer's chest. you wrap your hands against his chest. he doesn't wrap his hands around you though. he's scared to touch you. your not sobbing. your too tired to sob. you just let tears slowly roll down your cheeks. " your not him spencer." you say out loud. spencer's heart skips a beat. he slowly wraps his hands around you. " i'm still mad at you. you shouldn't have said that earlier. b-but i forgive you spence." you mumble against his chest. he shakes his head, " you shouldn't forgive me y/n. your supposed to be mad at me. your supposed to be yelling at me. or-or hitting me." he says.
" i am mad at you spencer." you say pulling your head away wiping the tears.
"alright. good." he says
looking down at you. " oh god- im sorry that was stupid i shouldn't have hugged you-" you immediately start apologising shaking your head. you immediately sit back down. oh god your so stupid. why did you just hug him? your so embarrasing oh god. did you feel the need to hug spencer because you just needed to make sure that spencer wasn't him.
not that you would know what your dads embrace would feel like. but you just needed to make sure.
" no please don't apologise. d-do you mind if i sit next to you?" spencer asks pointing at the space next to you. you look at him and slowly nod your heart. he sits next to you. " once ive healed i'm yelling at you spencer." you say looking down at your legs, your tired eyes aching. " alright." spencer says nodding. you should yell at him. and you will. he had no right. but your too tired right now. you just hope. you really really hope that spencer doesn't spiral once your back in quantico and probably will forcefully be taken into the hospital by emily and jj. you really hope he doesn't drown himself in guilt and spiral. why are you so caring? does spencer care about you the way you care about him? that's foolish right? he wouldn't right? does he feel his heart quicken when he sees you? does he care the way you care? that's stupid god y/n you probably have a concussion just shut up.
yeah how stupid y/n. because if you knew the way spencer cared about you or the way his heart quickens when he sees you. you wouldn't believe it. it will take time though. it will take time for you to believe it. he's willing to work hard during that time. he just hopes you know even the slightest bit. but he wont say anything right now. you've already been through enough. he wont say anything for a while. though when the time is right. maybe you'll finally know how much he cares about you. for now, he'll settle for this just for now. until he can gain your trust back and make his feelings known. he'll settle for this. because just being next to you makes him happy.
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