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#spencer reid x fem reader
mxauthor · 3 months
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Not Of The Imagination
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Summary: Spencer claims he has a girlfriend. Derek does not believe him at all.
Word Count: 1,614
Warnings: fluff, a bit OOC Derek
Derek Morgan is a ladies man. He knows how to talk to women, charm them into a flustered mess and get a number from them with ease. His charm is a weapon, something he knows how to use better than his gun. 
Spencer Reid is not a ladies man. He rambles people away and becomes flustered so easily that people think his skin tone is red. 
Derek Morgan is a charmer. Spencer Reid is the charmed. 
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Friday afternoon. Everyone was ready to go home and spend the weekend doing whatever they wanted. Weekend plans were the topic of conversation at the moment with the bullpen attendees.
“So pretty boy, where are you doing this weekend?” Morgan asked. A teasing smile playing on his lips. Derek Morgan wasn’t a bully. He was anything but a bully, however, he was a brother. And brothers are known to tease their little siblings to no end. And Spencer was lucky enough to become Derek’s little brother. 
 “There’s this Korean Film festival happening throughout the next week. All foods, music and movies will be played in korean. Which is exciting since my girlfriend had wanted to brush up on her language skills and I thought this would be a great surprise for her.” Spencer missed the look of surprise on his friends faces when the word ‘girlfriend’ had left his mouth. Especially Morgan’s face. 
“Girlfriend?” Emily questioned softly. She was still a bit new to the team, but this was the first time a girlfriend was mentioned, especially attached to Spencer’s name.
“Wait what! Spencer, you have a girlfriend?” Derek questioned in disbelief. It’s not like he didn’t think that Spencer couldn’t get a girlfriend, but it’s still a complete shock that the shy, can’t talk to college kids his age, stuttering mess actually has a girlfriend. 
“Yeah, Her name’s Y/n. We’ve actually been dating for about 3 years now.” The goofy grin that broke out onto Spencer’s face was convincing enough for the women. But apparently not enough for Derek. 
“Really?” Spencer could hear the disbelief in Derek’s voice. He knew that the proclaimed ladies man, didn’t believe that he ‘scored’. But Spencer really didn’t care if he believed him or not. 
He still had you at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered to him. 
“Okay, what’s her last name?” Morgan asked.
“L/n.” Spencer answered without hesitation. He had a feeling that some of the asked questions are going to be the same that his mother asked him when he confessed that he was seeing someone. 
Derek nodded, trying to look convinced. “What’s her-” 
Before he even had the chance to finish his next question Spencer beat him to it. “She’s working as a barista at the moment because she’s going back to school to be a teacher. We met when we were 20 and started dating at 22. She’s kind and patient. She also really loves me and we are talking about moving in together after she graduates with her masters.” 
The small group was stunned at the flood of information. Emily, JJ and Penelope all began gushing about his girlfriend, happy that their resident genius had found someone that is making him happy. 
Derek, happy for his brother, still didn’t believe him. The girl sounded perfect for him, too perfect. Almost like he had conjured her up. 
“Do you have a picture of her?” Penelope was the first to ask. 
“No, sadly. All the pictures we have together are taken on her phone and they don’t transfer well when she sends them to me.” Spencer explained. The women deflated a bit hearing his explanation. 
“How convenient.” Morgan muttered. Penelope was the one who heard him. She snapped her head in his direction, fixing him with a glare. Derek only held his hands up in mock surrender. 
The group slowly began to disperse when paperwork began to pile up on each of their respective desks. The new shift of conversation began to fizzle out. Everyone now began to focus on the important work ahead of them before they could go home at 6. 
Except for Derek Morgan. The new revelation, still fresh in his brain. The Spencer Reid, the boy genius that stutters when given a simple compliment, has a girlfriend.
He has to see it to believe it at that point.
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Derek didn’t get his confirmation until 3 months later. When he had almost forgotten that Spencer had claimed he had a girlfriend. 
A beautiful h/c had walked into the bullpen with a visitor badge clipped to her turtleneck sweater. She had a drink carrier in on hand and a plastic bag in the other. 
She stood near the glass doors, clearly looking for someone. A small frown appeared on her lips as the object of her delivery seemed to not be in the room. 
Morgan saw the contemplation on her face whether she was on the right floor or not. She took a step back towards the double glass doors, before Derek got up to give a helping hand. 
He calmly approached the pretty woman before calling out to her, “Excuse me miss, is there something you need help with.” 
The h/c turned at his voice, Derek could see slight recognition within her eyes. A small smile graced her lips before she spoke, “You must be Derek Morgan.” 
The named man furrowed his eyebrows. He had never met this woman before in his life, even if he had Derek would’ve remembered her face. 
The woman saw the confusion on his face as well as the slight guard he put up after she said his name. The h/c’s realization kicked in and her panic set in. “Oh no, I’m not dangerous. My boyfriend had told me a lot about you. Even showed me a photo of you. Well not of you but a group picture and pointed you out. And I’ve always been good at remembering faces. So when I saw you I just knew that you were Derek Morgan. Again I’m not dangerous.” 
Her lengthy explanation reminded him of the resident genius that was approaching the two of them. 
Spencer was very confused when he saw Derek Morgan speaking with his girlfriend of 3 years. He was even more confused when he saw her panicked expression and the slight wave of her hands as she tried to explain something. 
Spencer pulled open the glass doors to the bullpen and turned towards the interesting conversation that was happening. He didn’t get much of it, just the last bit where Y/n said ‘I’m not dangerous’. 
“What’s going on here?” The brunette male asked. He looked between his favorite people waiting for one of them to answer. 
“Oh, hello love. I was just coming over to see if you wanted to have lunch with me. I had a half day at work for class but then my professor canceled class last minute because he wasn’t feeling well.” Y/n had gestured to the food in her arms at the mention of lunch. 
She had swung by their favorite Thai place. Having not been there for a few weeks because of Spencer’s busy schedule and Y/n’s guilt for eating it without him. Spencer smiled widely at the offer of food and his lover for his break. 
“I’d love to honey. We can eat at my desk if you’d like.” Spencer offered. Grabbing the drinks from her to make the load easier to carry. 
Derek watched the exchange between them. Only putting everything together when you call Spencer ‘love’. 
“Holy shit she’s real.” He had meant to say it in his head. But the statement slipped out, causing the two of you to look at him with confusion. 
“You didn’t think she was real?” Spencer asked.
“Well, no. Just that she sounded really perfect for you so I had a hard time believing it at first. But then I met her and she literally reminded me of you.” Derek tried to explain but it didn’t sound all too convincing. 
Spencer and Y/n looked at each other before laughing. Y/n had just met Derek and he thought she was someone that Spencer made up. Their giggles made Derek feel stupid.
And that’s something he doesn’t feel often (not counting the times Spencer made him feel stupid). 
Y/n had calmed down first before holding out her free hand for Derek to shake, “Hi, my name is Y/n L/n. I’m going back to school to be a teacher but currently I’m working as a barista. I’ve been told I’m patient and kind. Spencer and I have been dating since we were 22 but we met when we were 20.” 
Y/n then spared a glance at Spencer before asking, “Same intro you gave him right?” 
Spencer nodded with a smile before kissing the crown of her head, “Yep same one you gave to my mom.” 
Derek looked between the young couple content on the evidence presented to him. Derek took Y/n’s hand and shook it giving a greeting of his own, “It’s nice to meet you Y/n. I’m Derek Morgan and I’ve become Spencer’s big brother. So don’t you go breaking his heart.” 
The toothy smile was answer enough, but Y/n couldn’t resist her response, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
Spencer had excused the two of them to go eat lunch at his desk. Spencer was happy that his lives were starting to blend together.
He’s especially glad that his favorite people were able to meet each other once and for all. Even though one of them thought the other was a figment of his imagination.
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cumulo-stratus · 2 months
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Look at this little cutie pie wearing his watch over his sweater 😋😋
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zombiefiilm · 3 months
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Next to You
spencer reid x fem!reader
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summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible
warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions
word count: 2.7k
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Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.
The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.
You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.
"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.
"I hate you" you sighed.
"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.
You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.
"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.
"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.
Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.
"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.
"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".
You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"
He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.
Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.
Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.
It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.
It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.
You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.
Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.
You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.
Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:
"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.
"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?
"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"
"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"
"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"
"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.
He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.
"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"
"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.
"What?"
"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.
"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.
"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"
Oh
You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.
You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.
"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.
You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.
You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.
He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?
Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.
He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.
But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.
You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.
"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".
You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.
"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.
"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".
"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."
"You just hate me" you finished.
"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"
You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"
You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.
"Please, let me make it up to you".
"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."
The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?
"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"
His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.
"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.
Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you
"please"
You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.
It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.
He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.
He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.
He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.
You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.
Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.
"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.
He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.
He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.
Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.
Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.
Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.
He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.
The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.
All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.
Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.
"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.
He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.
He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.
He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.
He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.
"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.
You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.
"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.
"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.
He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.
He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.
"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.
You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.
"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.
"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.
It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.
You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.
Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.
He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.
As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.
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mcondance · 15 days
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pretty brown eyes (quit breakin’ my heart); s14 spencer reid x fem!reader
fingering, in his lap in his driver’s seat, softdom!spence (it’s canon idc), i have only seen one ep of criminal minds so years of crushing on spence through edits and stuff are working overtime ☆ this was supposed to be just a quick thing just abt spencer’s puppy eyes but it turned into this whole thing so enjoy. mcon writing more than like 250 words? the spencer reid effect is crazy. ☆ title from pretty brown eyes by mint condition and i tweaked it a little to fit a motif in here okayokay enjoy
spencer’s eyes, wide and beautifully brown, are his key. he knows what he’s doing when he flashes them, makes them a thousand times more expressive than they usually are. 
he begs you with them, begs to have his favorite thing for dinner, begs you for a million kisses, and anything else you can think of. he’s dangerous.
but he’s even more dangerous when he’s using them to make you do something.
two fingers deep inside you, perched in his lap in the leaned-back driver’s seat of his car, you swear you could explode. his hands are practiced and precise and patient in their conquest.
your hand clamps around his wrist, trying futilely to do something, anything to control the shocks and waves building incessantly inside you. he’s too strong and you’re too weak and your hand only serves as something else to fuel him, to urge him to plunge his fingers ever deeper and rock his palm against your clit. his palm dampens with your wetness, joining his thighs beneath you and the expanse of your thighs too. 
“ah-” you borderline heave.
“mhm,” he hums, his chest rumbling under you. 
the car’s silence sets a perfect backdrop for your runaway whines and whimpers, “i can’t” and “spence” and “uh uh, please” flowing from your lips like the water threatening to fall from your eyes. his fingers disappearing inside you make their own disgusting noise, too. 
spencer takes it all in, into that calculating mind of his, eyes moving from where his hand works between your legs to the hand you have clamped around his over your stomach, and resting on your face that holds a multitude of sensations and thoughts and feelings. 
you squirm a little, too strung out to move more than a couple centimeters but of course, he picks it up. brown eyes find yours as you feel his head turn and yours turns to him, and you’re fucked. so fucked.
“can you take it for me? hmm?” he’s making you. you couldn’t say no to those eyes even if you had the strength to. he’s cunning and you both know what he’s doing, but his eyes plead for you to let him play with you and your body cries yes and it’s sealed, you’re sealed and signed and delivered. 
“yeah,” you nod and keen, and his eyes soften ever more, snapping nerves through your body, and you tighten around his fingers, pulling another hum from his chest. 
he needs to kiss you, so he does. awkward angle and all, he leans and takes your lips into a kiss. he’s breathtaking and shit, his kiss has you as fucked up as his hand between your thighs, the focused and fluid motions of his fingers and palm melting your body onto his. 
sweat has you sticking to him, too, soaking through your shirt and his, and if you were more sober you’d thank him for not making it where you’d have to suffer through soaked underwear and shorts on the ride home. 
intoxicated, though, you squeeze your eyes shut and lean your head onto his shoulder, finally giving into the pleasure he’d spend lifetimes just giving to you. 
“good.” he states, abundantly pleased at the tension leaving your body. he hums again, drawing closer to your neck so he’s watching the view from where you bear witness. 
“you feelin’ good, baby? now that you’re all sweet f’me?”
“mhm-hmm,” you keen. you’d be a lie if you said it didn’t send heat and a thousand butterflies rising up through you, and even if you could lie, your body gives you away. again you dig your nails into his arm and the other finds his face, cupping his cheek and rubbing through his stubble, and it calms you down by proxy. he could crack a smile, now, and he does, a little grin spreading across his stupidly gorgeous face, a tease and poison and pleasure all in one methodical, pretty, dazzling genius.
again, your ears focus on the sound. and, damningly, his do too, you can feel it in the quickening of his hand and the deep rolling in his chest when his fingers and your cunt grow louder, ricocheting off his windows and bouncing back to grace two pairs of ears. it's vulgar and disgusting, but you both indulge in it like the purest water on earth.
it feels good to let spencer work you how he knows you like, to be the only thing he has going on in that brain of his.
the sparks that have been growing in you since spencer first laid his hands on you are starting to glide into fireworks, and you can’t run from it. it’s the opposite of what you want to do. now, laid bare and pathetic in spencer’s arms, you just want to cum for him, and everything that comes with it.
spencer knows, and he does nothing differently. consistency brings you to the edge and your head falls back to find his eyes, devout and resolute, clear in what he wants from you. you’re swimming in them, floating lazily through and he nods demandingly slow, and his request is fulfilled, his eyes are too beautiful and expressive and wanting for you to not cum.
cradled in his arms, you shiver with the pleasure of it, whines and sobs validated by spencer’s soft hum as he watches you unfold. shuddering, it flows through you and obeys the movements of spencer’s hand while he follows your bursting with parted lips and wondering eyes. 
as your breath returns to you, and the stars behind your eyes take their place back in the sky, your chest still heaves softly, sense and brains returning to you slowly. you open your eyes to find spencer’s staring right at you, soft with adoration and amused contentment.
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ro-is-struggling · 1 year
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Slow Hands || Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: Spencer gets tired of pretending he doesn't notice the way you look at his hands, so when you show up at his hotel room late at night he decides to ask you about it.
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, hand kink, size kink kinda?, praise kink, Dom/sub dynamics (gentle dom Spencer x sub reader), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby, dirty little girl, slut), fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, choking, slight dacryphilia, a little fluff at the end, female reader, kinda rushed ending
English is not my first language
Word count: 6800
Notes: Spencer is a gentle dom and you can’t change my mind.
Also pictures aren't mine, I just put them together. I took them from this post (the one that inspired this fic) and also from this one so full credits to them!
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"Why do you always stare at my hands?" The question escaped Spencer's lips before he could stop it. You had come to his hotel room to discuss something about the case you were working on and the whole time you had been staring at his hands. 
It wasn't the first time you had done that, he had caught you staring at his hands in the past. It seemed that whatever he did with them you found interesting. He had never said anything to you because he honestly didn't know how to approach the subject without it sounding strange, but he was aware of what you were doing. The same way he knew you didn't admire anyone else's hands the same way you admired his, something that sparked a warmth inside him.
Spencer was pretty sure he knew why you looked at his hands so much, but he wanted to hear you say it.
"Oh," you mumbled in embarrassment, startled at being caught. "I don't know, I think they're pretty." You shrugged, looking everywhere but at Spencer. "I like hands."
"You like hands?" He repeated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
"I know it sounds weird but it's not! Some people notice someone's smile first or maybe their eyes or laugh, I tend to notice people's hands." It was a half-truth. Yes, you used to pay more attention to people's hands than most, but that wasn't the real reason for your inability to take your eyes off his hands. But since you couldn't admit that you dreamed every night of feeling the touch of his long, slender fingers on your skin, you thought that explanation would satisfy his curiosity and save you from the humiliation of the truth.
"Why do you like my hands so much?" Spencer insisted and you struggled to stop your mind before it got lost in the endless fantasies involving his hands that haunted you at night when you were alone in your bed.
"I don't know. They're pretty, I guess." You tried to downplay it, hoping that would be enough to ease his curiosity.
"Pretty how?" Spencer asked you and when you looked up to meet his eyes you saw a dark glint in them. He was up to something, you could see it in the innocent little smile plastered on his lips. He was pushing you to give him an answer for a special reason that you didn't know, but you assumed it couldn't be anything good for you.
Your brain was screaming at you not to take the bait, that it was dangerous and stupid. The smartest thing to do would be to find an excuse to go back to your room, where you would be safe from Spencer and his tricks. But you had never been that smart. Curiosity got the better of you, so you ignored your brain and took the bait.
"Well, for starters, your hands are big." You spoke in the most casual tone possible, trying to hide your embarrassment and excitement as you took one of his hands between yours to compare sizes.
You rarely had the opportunity to hold Spencer's hand, so feeling the warmth of his palm against yours awakened a wave of electricity that coursed down your spine. You swallowed hard, struggling to control yourself as you admired the difference in size between your hands. Even though you had long nails you weren't able to shorten the difference in length between his fingers and yours, Spencer's still stood tall against yours, which barely touched the middle phalanx of his fingers. You thought it was impossible, but his hand seemed even larger when compared to yours. 
"And that's a good thing?" His soft, low voice shook you awake from your trance, lifting your gaze to look at him for a moment before returning your focus to his hands.
"Yes, especially for a guy," you said, trying to act natural under his intense gaze. "But you also have beautiful fingers. They're long and slender... perfectly balanced with the size of your palm." Your fingers traced his as you spoke, delicately caressing the skin of his hand with your fingertips. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move. If you kept quiet you could hear his deep breathing quicken a little more with each caress you gave him, just like your heartbeat. 
Spencer knew what kind of ideas the size of his fingers sparked in your imagination and he would be lying if he said he didn't have the same fantasies from time to time. It was actually embarrassing how many times he had masturbated imagining having his fingers buried deep in the warmth of your core —you moaning his name and begging him for more while he used his expert fingers to make you feel pleasure in a way no other man had ever done. 
"But I also like the veins in the back of your hand." Your voice brought him out of his thoughts just in time, a few more seconds lost in his fantasies and his pants were going to start feeling a little tight. "I like the way the veins mark on your skin." Your fingers traced the lines on the back of his hand, following the paths that led up his arm, where the rolled up sleeve of his shirt prevented you from continuing.
Your fingers lingered on his arm longer than necessary, taking the opportunity to memorize the texture of his skin, the warmth of his body and the way his closeness made you feel in case you never had the chance to touch him like that again. The room fell into complete silence as you shared an intimate moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your slightly accelerated breathing. There was a tension in the air that you had never felt before being with Spencer, but you barely paid attention to it as you lost yourself in your fantasies, your mind finally surrendering to your wild imagination. 
But then the sound of a speeding car coming through the window distracted you from your thoughts. You pulled your hands away from Spencer quickly as you realized what you had done, ashamed of yourself for losing control like that. However, when you looked up to meet his eyes you didn't notice anything strange about them. He didn't seem to be bothered or uncomfortable by your behavior. No. You just saw that sparkle again, shining in his hazel eyes with increasing clarity. 
Spencer's gaze didn't leave you as he moved his hand closer to you. You remained frozen in place, holding your breath without even realizing it as you waited to see what he was scheming. His fingers took a lock of your hair that fell over your face, playing with it for a bit before he gently tucked it behind your ear. Your heart was beating faster and faster and your brain was working hard to decipher what Spencer was thinking. You enjoyed the attention you were getting from him, but your impatient nature needed to know where he was going with all this.
However, your brain was fried the moment Spencer's hand cupped your cheek. You even forgot how to breathe as you felt his long, slender fingers caress the skin of your face. You closed your eyes instinctively, leaning into his touch as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The warmth of his hand awakened a tingling sensation that spread all over your face following the path of his fingers, from your cheek bone, down to your jaw, across your chin and up to your lips. It was ridiculous how he could have you melting under his touch with the simplest of caresses. He had so much power over you... and you liked it. 
You opened your eyes when you felt Spencer's thumb caress your lower lip. Your eyes met for a moment, feeling small under his intense gaze. He had never acted that way with you before, much less looked at you with the hunger reflected in his hazel orbs. And you liked it. You liked feeling small under his watchful eye. You liked feeling completely at his mercy. You liked knowing that he owned you even if he didn't realize it.
"I feel the same way about your lips," Spencer announced, staring at your mouth as his thumb continued his caresses, tracing the shape of your lips. "I love how soft they look, always tempting me to kiss them... especially when you stick your tongue out to wet them... or when you bite your lower lip when you're deep in thought. It takes all my willpower not to cross the room and kiss you right then and there." 
Spencer's voice was soft and seductive, the slightly deeper than normal tone going straight to your core, which tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. There was nothing dirty in his words —he was just declaring how much he wanted to kiss you— and yet you could feel the wetness beginning to stain your underwear. There was something about his voice, the way he was talking to you and the softness of his touch on your lips that felt highly erotic. Spencer seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do to have you at his mercy. He had you in a trance, frozen in place as you eagerly awaited his next move. There wasn't a single thought in your head, just him and your desire to feel his hands all over your body.
"And don't even get me started on those lipsticks you wear," he continued, applying a little more pressure on your lips as he dragged his thumb across them, smearing lipstick on the corners of your lips. "This one is my favorite."
You parted your lips to try to breathe. You were starting to feel lightheaded, unable to move or speak under Spencer's intense stare. You wanted to, god knew there were a lot of things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but you couldn't do it. Your brain was fried, your body vibrating with anticipation. Part of you still couldn't believe what was happening, so you thought it would be best to keep your mouth shut. You would let him guide you, show you what he wanted from you. You'd be lying if you said that wasn't exactly what you wanted.
Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt Spencer's thumb push into your mouth. You closed your lips around the digit without even thinking about it, your tongue caressing his skin in an act of pure instinct. Your mind didn't process what was happening until you heard him moan softly.
"Good girl," he praised you and you couldn't help but moan over his finger, pure pleasure vibrating throughout your body. "I always suspected that behind that strong, combative attitude of yours was hiding a good, obedient girl... I didn't even have to tell you to suck, you already knew what to do."
A wave of pleasure ran through your body at his words, feeling proud to hear him call you a good girl. That's all you ever wanted to be, his good girl, and now that you finally had the chance to prove it to him you weren't going to waste it. You sucked on his finger harder to show him how much you loved his compliments, hollowing out your cheeks as your tongue played with his digit wishing it was his cock instead.
"I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea," Spencer sighed. 
Oh but you did know. You knew exactly what he meant because you had wanted him for so long too. Every second you spent with him was torture, not only because you fantasized about feeling his hands on your body all the time, but also because you had to pretend you didn't in a room filled with skilled profilers. 
But there was no more of that. You didn't have to worry anymore because his hands were finally on your body and it felt even better than you had imagined.
"Will you be my good girl tonight?" Spencer asked you, his voice barely a whisper as he moved closer to you. 
You almost fainted when you felt his warm breath crash against your face, feeling even smaller under his gaze now that he was closer to you. When he removed his thumb from your mouth you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a whimper in protest. 
"Answer me!" he demanded in a firm but soft tone that managed to snap your brain out of its trance. 
"Yes," you rushed to say, maintaining eye contact with Spencer at all times. "I want to be your good girl, please."
You barely managed to get the words out before Spencer's lips crashed against yours in a kiss full of passion and desperation. You didn't even try to fight for dominance, surrendering to him without him having to ask. You let his lips guide yours, melting under the caresses of his tongue. His hands gripped each side of your face, using his hold to tilt your head so he could deepen the kiss. 
It was all happening so fast you barely had time to process it, your poor brain working hard to keep up with the torturous rhythm of Spencer's lips. The kiss was much rougher than you would have imagined from someone like him. He always looked so sweet and innocent it was hard to believe he had such a dark side. But you loved every second of it. You loved knowing that he had chosen to share that side with you. 
"Stand up," he ordered you as he pulled away from your lips. His kiss had left you a little stupid, so it took you a few seconds to process his words. But he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, Spencer seemed proud of himself. He loved the effect he had on you as much as you did.
Spencer stood next to you, standing in front of you. You looked up into his eyes, patiently awaiting his next command. You lost yourself in the beautiful hazel color of his orbs for a moment, noticing a flash of his usual sweet, tender glow mixed in with all the desire and lust. That soothed the nerves that were beginning to form in your stomach from the anticipation, remembering that behind the darkness in his eyes was your Spencer, the one who always opened doors for you and brought you coffee without you asking him for it when you were stuck in the office late at night doing paperwork.
He took his time removing your clothes, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, showering you with compliments. He even knelt down in front of you to properly remove your shoes, pants and panties, taking the time to caress your calves and deposit a kiss on each of your thighs before rising back up. Spencer was tall, much taller than you. His figure towered over yours in an imposing way, but his soft and gentle touch helped you not to feel self-conscious in front of him, even when he was fully clothed and you were not. The gentleness with which he was treating you contrasted with the hardness of his kisses, but it was a change you gladly welcomed. Although it did make you wonder what he had planned for later.
"You're so beautiful," Spencer murmured against the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands roamed your body. His fingers caressed your skin ever so gently, trailing up your arm all the way to your shoulder. He paused at your neck for a moment and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined him closing his fingers over your throat, applying pressure until it was hard to breathe. But before you could put voice to your desires, his hand wandered down your back, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it.
"Spence, please." You begged in a whisper when you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer. As much as you enjoyed the attention of his hands on your body, you needed more. Much more. Your pussy was crying for attention, staining your underwear with your arousal.
Your broken voice went straight to Spencer's cock, your desperation was music to his ears, but he managed to keep his composure. He wanted to take his time with you. "What is it, baby? What do you want?" he asked in an almost condescending tone. He knew very well what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it.
“I want you,” you replied, not caring about how pathetic your voice sounded. You were desperate for some relief and were willing to do anything to get it. "I need you to touch me... to make me feel good."
Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He settled down on the bed again —his long legs stretched out on the comforter and his back resting against the bed frame— and gestured for you to sit on his lap. When you moved closer he turned you over, helping you to settle onto his body until you ended up sitting with your back against his chest. He used his legs to spread yours apart, opening them as wide as he could. You hated not being able to see his face easily, but the new position was exciting anyway. You could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass and had a privileged view of his hand as he slowly moved closer to where you needed it most.
"You're so wet already and I barely touched you," Spencer whispered against your ear, his breath brushing your skin as his fingers began to toy with your clit. "Is this all for me?"
"Y-yes,"you managed to mumble between ragged breaths, struggling to control the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. You were in a hotel room and the rest of your co-workers were sleeping in the rooms next to yours. The last thing you wanted was to be discovered.
"No, don't hold back. I want to hear you moan. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Spencer was desperate to hear you moan his name, it was all he had ever wanted from the first moment he saw you. He dreamed of your whimpers of pleasure, but they never felt real enough. His mind could never recreate the beautiful melody of your voice to perfection. But he could remember it forever if he could hear you.
Spencer increased the speed of his fingers and you weren't able to contain the moan that escaped your lips, nor the many others that followed. But even if you could, you wouldn't have done it because he wanted to hear you and his wishes were your command. Your body belonged to him in its entirety, you were his to do with you as he wished. 
"Good girl," he praised you, using his free hand to push your hair to the side so he could kiss and nibble on your neck. Each thing he did brought you a little closer to the edge. It was as if he had studied your body in preparation for this moment, as if he knew exactly what buttons to push to have you making a mess under his touch.
"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer growled against your ear, feeling his cock throbbing under the movements of your ass. Pure pleasure coursed through his veins as he listened to the whimpers escaping your lips. "Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?"
"Yes! F-fuck, yes." Your voice came out in a broken moan, your brain fighting the haze of pleasure to form coherent sentences. Spencer was bringing you near climax in record time, you could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You didn't know how he was doing it, but you didn't want him to ever stop. "I thought about having your fingers deep inside me all this time and, f-fuck, and how good they would feel reaching places mime can't... yes! Just like that."
As if Spencer was using your fantasies as a guide, he slipped his middle and ring fingers inside you. Your velvety walls received them gladly, clasping around them to keep them there forever. Just as you had imagined, his long fingers felt wonderful, filling you in a way yours could not, and they reached that spongy place inside you in a matter of seconds making you see stars every time they caressed it.
"Oh god, Spence it feels so good... please" you murmured between moans and heaving breaths, gripping onto your lover's arm for support. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in pleasure. It all felt like too much and not enough at the same time. You were desperate to find that sweet relief, moving your hips against Spencer's hand to reach your climax.
"You're gonna cum for me like the good girl you are?" He spoke against your neck, biting into your skin and drawing a moan of pleasure from you. "You're gonna cum all over my fingers?"
"Yes! Yes, please, I wanna cum so bad," you begged him on the verge of tears and Spencer couldn't help but growl against your skin. Knowing that he was capable of making you cry out in pleasure with his fingers alone awakened something primal in him. The desperate sounds escaping your lips were the hottest thing he had ever heard and suddenly it became his mission to keep you crying with pleasure for as long as he possibly could.
Spencer increased the rhythm of his fingers and applied pressure to your clit with his palm so each time he moved his hand you would receive twice as much stimulation. "C'mon baby, cum for me," he encouraged you and his permission was all you needed to collapse into his arms.
Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, which was squirming under Spencer's skilled hands that kept fucking you through your orgasm. Your lungs were screaming for air, but it was impossible for you to catch your breath. The world around you became a blur for a moment and the only thing your pleasure clouded brain was able to process was Spencer's voice praising you as his hands caressed your body.
"That's it... that's my good girl." You smiled, enjoying his compliments as you tried to catch your breath. 
But then you felt the hand that was still in your pussy begin to move once more. They were slow thrusts of his fingers inside you, but it was still a lot for your abused cunt, too sensitive from the orgasm it had just had. Your hand clutched at his wrist to try to stop it, but as you opened your eyes and looked down you couldn't help but let out a moan. You were convinced that there was no more erotic sight than that of his veiny hand buried in your pussy, moving in and out of you, giving you a glimpse of his skin glistening with your arousal in the dim light of the room.
"One more," Spencer told you, tugging on your hair to force your head back so you could look at him. It was a little rough, but you loved it, the pain going straight to your center. "I want one more and then I'll fuck you."
"I can't... too much" you tried to say, but your body betrayed you. Your pussy was dripping with excitement, your walls clinging to Spencer's fingers with desperation. Your hips were moving to his rhythm, following his lead and not yours. Your body no longer responded to you, it no longer belonged to you. It now belonged to Spencer and if he wanted you to cum one more time then you would.
"You can, I know you can," he encouraged you in a soft voice that contrasted with the roughness of his movements. He kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that took what little breath you still had, and you surrendered completely to him. You stopped fighting your body's urges, trusting that Spencer knew what was best for you. He always did.
"That's it, baby. Let go for me, c'mon. I want to feel you cum on my fingers one more time." His words went straight to your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn't long before you started to feel like it was too much. Your legs shook uncontrollably with pleasure, but when you tried to close them Spencer didn't let you, using his to keep you wide open for him.
"'S too much… too much… can't" you mumbled incoherently as you felt the pleasure take over your whole body. Tears of utter pleasure streamed down your cheeks, each movement of your lover's hand bringing you closer to the edge you weren't sure you'd be able to cross. 
"Shh you're okay, you're okay" he reassured you, showering his kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he used his free hand to hold you in place. "You can do it. C'mon, I got you."
You clung to Spencer's arm as you braced yourself for the explosion of pleasure that was coming, your nails digging little half moons into his porcelain skin. He held you in place as your body shook violently as your second orgasm hit you, enjoying the incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you soaked his fingers with your arousal. It was music to his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard. 
"That's it, such a good girl for me." He praised you, but you were too lost to process his words. Your mind was completely lost in a fog of pure bliss, the world around you forgotten as your body twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could barely breathe and you couldn't remember your own name, but a smile formed on your face. Those had been the best orgasms of your life and you hadn't even had Spencer inside you yet.
"There you are!" you heard him say next to you. When you opened your eyes you discovered that at some point he had moved you, and now you were lying on the bed with him staring at you at your side. "Are you okay?" 
His voice was soft as his fingers gently caressed your cheek. It was quite a change from the man who minutes before was demanding you cum on his fingers, but you liked it. He was more like the usual Spencer and that was what you needed at that moment as you recovered from the two most intense orgasms of your life.
"I'm fine," you assured him with an ecstatic smile. You really were. Spencer had demanded a lot from you, but in the best possible way.
"Do you want to stop? Just say the word and I'll let you go to sleep."
"What? No, please, I want to feel you inside me." You begged with glazed eyes and Spencer let out a chuckle.
"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes! Please, I want to make you feel good. I want to be your good girl."
Spencer silenced your pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing yours ever so gently. Unlike the previous times, when desire, passion and desperation prevailed, this kiss was slow and sensual. He was taking his time to enjoy the moment, memorizing every little detail of your lips and your reactions to the caresses of his tongue. He wanted to experience everything with you, the urgency of passion and desire, as well as the tenderness of such an intimate moment. He wanted it all with you.
When he pulled away you let out a whimper in protest, missing his warmth the moment he got out of bed. However your protests were silenced when you rose up on your elbows and discovered that he was undressing. Before that moment you didn't think it was possible that the image of a man loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt could be so erotic, but Spencer proved you wrong. Your mind raced wildly with the thought of everything he could do to you with that tie or the belt, which fell to the floor with a metallic clank as he peeled off the layers of clothing. 
Anticipation bubbled up inside you once again as you stared at Spencer crawling towards you, looking at you like an animal at its prey. He gave you one last slow, tender kiss before settling between your legs, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance.
"You ready, baby?" he asked you one more time to make sure you were okay, his voice no more than a raspy whisper that awakened a new wave of arousal inside you.
"Yes, please."
He was gentle as he entered you, giving you time to adjust to the size of his member as he enjoyed the warmth of your velvety walls. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out, your pussy tightening around his cock as you felt him deep inside you.
"So tight and warm for me," Spencer growled in your ear as he began to move, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back inside you with a quick, punishing thrust. "Taking me so well."
It was clear from the erratic, desperate rhythm of his hips that Spencer wasn't going to last long. He was so worked up after having you wriggling on his cock as you came twice that he was already close to the edge. But he still tried his best to drag the moment out as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way you had surrendered to him completely. He hadn't even had to ask you, you had simply accepted your role, desperate to be his good girl just as he had imagined. 
"You look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as I fuck you stupid," he praised you as he noticed your moans increasing in volume and incoherence. He felt you tighten around his member, letting out a pathetic moan of pleasure as you increased the rhythm of your hips, which moved against his in search of your orgasm.
"Feels s-so good, Spence… please." A couple of tears escaped your eyes as you begged him for relief, awakening that primal desire deep inside him again. There was something so erotic about the way you were moaning for him, crying for his cock, begging him to bring you to your climax one more time. You looked completely ruined, mascara running down your face and lipstick smeared across your lips after so many kisses, and he was the cause of it all. He was the one you were moaning for. He was the one you cried for. He was the one you begged for more even though you were completely ruined. He was the one who was making you feel so good. He and only he. You belonged to him. 
"You want to cum again, huh?" Spencer spoke in a condescending tone as he increased the pace and roughness of his thrusts. "Two orgasms are not enough for my girl? Is that it?"
You tried to ignore the way it made you feel to hear him call you 'his girl', attributing the warm feeling that spread through your body to desire and arousal. Though deep down you knew there was something more pure and innocent behind your reaction.
"Please, don't stop. I'm so close, f-fuck." The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through your entire body, consuming every cell of your being. Your vision was blurring again, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.
Then Spencer lowered one of his hands to where your bodies joined as one, his fingers losing themselves in your wetness as they played with your clit. Your body began to twitch beneath his, your moans increasing in volume and quantity as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the sweet relief. You reached out to him, grabbing his arm in an attempt to ground yourself, frightened by the force of the powerful orgasm that threatened to destroy you completely. 
"I know, baby, I know." Spencer comforted your incoherent cries of pleasure, feeling your whole body tighten around his to hold him in place. The warm walls of your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock with every movement he made. Your legs hooked around his hips, pulling him even closer against you, his cock reaching deeper inside you with each thrust. You were both so close to cumming, but he wanted to feel you come undone around him first.
"Just let go for me, I got you."
You moaned his name, appreciating the tenderness in his voice as he encouraged you to cum. But you needed more, something to push you over the edge. And you knew exactly what that was.
Loosening your grip on his arm, you guided him up your body to where you needed him. Your hand rested on top of his as you gently settled it on your exposed neck, closing your fingers —and his— over your throat in an attempt to make him understand what you wanted.
Spencer looked at you with a surprised look, but you could see that flash of darkness shining in his eyes that let you know he liked the idea as much as you did. "Are you sure?" he asked you to make sure you were both on the same page about it.
"Please," you begged him with glazed eyes and Spencer felt his cock throbbing inside your pussy, feeling his orgasm approaching. You were definitely the perfect woman for him.
He began by applying a little pressure to the sides of your throat, feeling your veins pumping blood under his fingers. His hand was so big that he could almost wrap it around your entire neck, giving him a sense of power that awakened a wave of pleasure that coursed through his entire body. Knowing that you trusted him enough to let him choke you gave him a strange sense of relief. He wasn't the only one.
But what really sealed the deal for him was hearing your strangled moans as he applied enough force to limit your breathing a bit. 
"You're such a dirty little girl... you like getting fucked like a slut, huh?" Spencer asked the question on purpose, knowing you weren't going to be able to respond other than incoherent sounds from both the pleasure you were feeling and the pressure he was putting on your throat. But he knew you loved it, he could feel it in the way you were clenching down on his member. 
"Cum for me, c'mon. I want to feel you making a mess on my cock." His command was all you needed to let yourself be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on your throat finally pushing you over the edge. 
Your whole body trembled beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, floating in pure bliss as you heard Spencer praising you in the distance.
"That's my good girl, doing such a great job for me." Spencer's movements became more erratic and sloppy as he chased his own orgasm. His grip on your neck softened, but you didn't let him move his hand from there, grabbing his wrist to hold him in place.
"Please Spence, I want you to fill me up... I want to feel you cum inside me, pleaseee," you begged him with what little strength you had left, trying to push him over the edge. You looked at him with half-closed, slightly unfocused eyes, completely lost in the pleasure that flooded your insides. It was the hottest image Spencer had ever seen. You were ruined, so fucked out that you could barely think, and he was the one to blame for that.
You whimpered from the overstimulation, the sweet sound of your raspy moans driving him over the edge. He came with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside you. He painted your velvety walls with rope after rope of cum, enough that the pearly white liquid trickled down your thighs and onto the bed. Spencer earned one last moan from you as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.
"Are you okay?" he asked you as he regained the ability to form coherent sentences. He shifted his body towards you, rising up on his arm and resting his head in his palm so he could look at you. "I wasn't too rough, was I?"
"No, no. You were perfect." You were quick to say, opening your eyes and turning to face him. He had his soft, innocent expression back, looking at you with adoration as he analyzed your face to make sure you were telling the truth. If it weren't for the smell of sex that flooded the room you would find it hard to believe that he was the same man who had fucked you until you forgot your own name.
"Everything was perfect." You added with a satisfied smile on your face that he mimicked. 
A silence formed as you tried to process what had happened. Now that your mind was clear of the fog of desire and passion that blocked your thinking you realized the position you had put yourselves in. You were friends and co-workers and at the time you had no way of knowing how this slip-up was going to affect both relationships. You figured you would have time to sort it out, but for now you needed to get out of there before you fell asleep and the rest of the team discovered you leaving the same room in the morning. So you carefully got up, holding onto the bed frame until your legs got used to supporting the weight of your body again, and looked for your clothes that had been left behind, scattered on the floor of the room.
"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, watching you struggle to put your underwear back on.
"Putting my clothes back on?" you replied as if it were obvious, grabbing your shirt off the floor. "I need it. Unless you want me to walk down the hallway naked I-"
"Stay," he interrupted you, grabbing your hand to force you to stop. "Please." He sounded so soft and vulnerable that there was no way you could say no, even though you knew it was a terrible idea.
“What about the team?”
“We can wake up a little earlier so you can sneak back to your room.”
You weren't fully convinced. There were a lot of things that could go wrong —what if you were called away in the middle of the night? how would you explain that you were not in your room but in Spencer's room sleeping with him if one of your co-workers knocked on your door before you got back?—, but Spencer kissed you and all concerns left your system. You let the soft movement of his lips quiet the voices in your head, surrendering to his charms once again.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up so we can go to sleep." He whispered against your lips, giving you one last short kiss before guiding you to the shower. You let him take care of you, allowing him to wash your hair and carefully massage the soap over your body, and in gratitude you did the same for him. The tenderness and intimacy of sharing a shower contrasted with the rough sex you had had, but you liked it. The same way you liked sleeping snuggled in his arms. He was your favorite pillow, the warmest and most comfortable blanket you had ever slept with. 
You were pretty sure you couldn't go back to normal after discovering how happy it made you feel to be surrounded in Spencer's arms, but you were okay with that. You had plenty of time to talk about your future in the morning. For now all you wanted to do was enjoy the moment, letting your lover's deep breaths lull you to sleep.
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talaok · 1 year
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Lucky
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Summary: Drunk Spence confesses his love for you, but you are already together.
Warnings: fluff, being drunk(?)
“I love you”
“I know baby, I love you too,” you said, helping him onto the bed as he slurred that phrase for the millionth time.
“ a lot ” he continued, his eyes barely open as his head met the pillow “from like-the beginning y’know?”
“Oh, I know baby, you’ve told me” you couldn’t help but laugh softly, walking to the other side to lie next to him.
“Did I?” he frowned, looking up at you once you guided his head onto your chest.
“Yes baby” you kissed his hair, as he nuzzled closer to you, his whole body slouched lazily onto yours.
The room fell silent except for his tired deep breaths.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me”
“Sometimes I look at you and I just don’t understand-”
He was looking up at you again, but you didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t understand how it’s possible that you” he raised his eyebrows as his left hand pointed lethargically at you “you are with me”
“I can never comprehend it” he explained, his voice getting more and more incomprehensible “it’s odd” he started, hiding his head onto your chest once more
Your heart was beating really fast,
Yes, he was drunk,
And yes he was half-asleep,
But you had a feeling he was being honest,
Spencer had hinted at these things before,
So you knew,
You just knew,
And so did your heart.
“It’s not odd” you finally spoke in a whisper, caressing his thick amber hair “you’re amazing Spence”
“Anyone in their right mind would wanna be with you, I just got lucky”
He chuckled “lucky”
“I got lucky, not you”
“Maybe we both did” you murmured, tracing slow patterns on his back.
“Yeah” he sighed, closing his eyes “maybe we did”
Silence again,
“I love you” he murmured, tightening his hold on your torso.
“I love you too baby” you smiled “go to bed now, you must be tired”
“I am” he agreed
“ ‘night”
“Good night baby”
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0anonnymouslyours0 · 1 year
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would u write abt like early seasons spence with a cute girly gf who is just obsessed with him🤭 i think it’d be so cute bc he just wouldnt be used to all that attention <3
like she’s constantly in his lap kissing him wherever she can!! baking him stuff!! making sure he eats before works bc lets be honest he probably forgets to do that a lot, always sending him little updates throughout her day whenever he’s on a case, always asking him things just so he can go on one of his cute rambles!!
yes! i love a super fem!reader with spencer! hope this is what you wanted :)
warnings; kissing , implied smut , fluffy stuff , readers very domestic
you of course love making spencer food! all the time he wakes up, ready to leave, when he finds a little container on the counter. filled with something you know he'll like, and a little note with a kiss in bright red lipstick on it.
if you're up at the same time as him, when he walks out of the the bathroom you're in the kitchen, cute little apron over one of his work shirts, cooking him something to eat on his way. a kiss on his cheek, food in his hand and he's ready to go.
the team loves you, so you regularly stop by to deliver whatever latest baked good you've made. waiting at spencers desk, as you watch his team rush into the kitchen to grab a piece, each mumbling about how good your cooking is.
you send spencer regular updates, photos of what you're doing, wearing, eating. he loves it. especially when he gets photos of the lingerie under your clothes...
when you and spencer start dating, he's not used to your constant doting at all, but once he gets used to it he absolutely adores you and all your habits. your just so extra, and he loves it.
when he comes home late from work, you always climb onto his lap as he sits in his office chair, nuzzling your head into his chest, just your little sleep shorts and top on. when spencers had a particularly rough day, sometimes he'll take you back to the bedroom, and take out his frustrations on you.
every friday night, if he's at home, you set up a little date night. cooking him dinner, and setting up the table all prettily. getting dressed up in something nice, lipstick on and hair done. picking out a book or movie to watch for the later of the night, until you fall asleep on the couch, tangled in each others arms.
spencer also finds that his bag is always packed in the morning, sometimes with a book you've picked out for him. his shirt and slacks always ironed and laid out on the bed, shoes polished.
spencer sometimes struggles with his tie, but you love to sit in his lap, fixing it up before he leaves for the morning, giggling as he squeezes your thigh.
eeeeeeee <3
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i-heart-mgg · 2 months
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Puppy Love - Ch.1
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Pairings: Spencer Reid x female reader
Summary: It’s your first day at the BAU and you meet the genius Dr. Spencer Reid who quickly becomes a blabbering, stuttering mess once you start to get to know him.
Warnings: light swearing, mentions of horror movies/books, general anxiety
Word count: 2182
Next chapter
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The hot sweat that radiated off your body contradicted the chilly morning condensation slowly dripping down the windows of the small but practical car you got for your eighteenth birthday. Nearing a whole six years ago.
You watched as the droplets raced against each other, a harsh battle for which one would reach the window sill first. In an attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you were parked outside the FBI Quantico headquarters, where you were about to start your first ever day as a real FBI agent.
You swung open the car door forcefully, heart pounding with an overwhelming sense of anxiety that comes with starting any new job. Let alone, one of the most highly sought-after and official in the country.
Standing outside in the soft breeze with the tranquil sound of lush trees whisking in the wind, you took a deep inhale. Soon exhaling as you briskly walked your way through the glass sliding doors, into the cold and desolate hallways. Choosing to ignore the emptiness, considering it was 7:30 am and you and your new unit chief, Aaron Hotcher, were presumably the only two people in the building.
Your fingernails dug into the sides of your upper thighs over the rough fabric of your plain black, possibly too-tight slacks. Accentuating in all the right places- just because you’re a huge nerd whose only hobby is reading the latest articles in just about anything, except for maybe how to become an alpha male with a PhD in hating women, does NOT mean you have poor taste in fashion.
Your hand hesitantly reached out towards Hotchs' office door to place three short knocks against it. "Come in." A deep, no-nonsense, kind of voice called out from inside the room. One last deep breath out before you prepared for the best act of faux confidence, dare I say ever performed.
That was until you could feel his eyes reading every tiny detail about you like a book, from the insecure look in your eyes down to the over-thought-out choice of your plain black slacks. All your prior preparation was completely thrown astray. You forgot that profilers also profile regular people, much different to deranged criminals. "H-hello, I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)". You stuttered as you reached to shake the intimidating man's hand. "Welcome to the BAU (Y/L/N), it's a pleasure to meet you".
He went over all the formalities with you until it was time to introduce yourself to the rest of the team, all of which you knew a bit of information about from previous research. Not to be creepy but just to get more acquainted with everyone, lessen the overload of information you were inevitably absorbing on that day.
Your eyes scanned the bullpen as one by one, agents walked through the glass doors of the BAU. Having seen all your soon-to-be-colleagues in the various articles you'd read, none of them phased you, except one. He was tall, and handsome, with slick-back chocolate brown hair, and big, adorable hazel eyes shielded by a pair of glasses, only being 1 year your senior but having accomplished three times as much as you. It was the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid.
He locked eyes with you for a second, before you swiftly averted your gaze to who you presumed was SSA Emily Prentiss, cheeks slightly tinted rosy to have been caught staring. The sound of a door opening and closing alerted you to Hotch advancing towards you, it was time to get the most nerve-wracking part out of the way.
With clammy hands and an urge to jump off a building, Hotch cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his team. "Hi I-um-I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but I guess you can call me SSA (Y/L/N), or (Y/N), whichever you'd like!" Well, you completely fucked that one up, may as well just quit right then and there. This was not going according to plan.
"I think I like baby girl better, or maybe pretty girl, you seem like the copy-and-paste female version of our pretty boy Spence here". That must have been the infamous Derek Morgan, judging by his suave attitude and demeanour. Unsure of what to say, you heard another voice speak instead.
"Morgan! You can't just say that, especially not to (Y/N), it's her first day, and I'm not even a pretty boy so that comparison is quite redundant in the first place!" Spencer whisper yelled at Derek. "Come on Reid, she's gonna have to get used to me at some point may as well start as early as possible." He said as he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Oh, 'em, gee!! You're so, so, cute! Hi, I'm Penelope Garcia, the world's best tech analyst who can just about hack into anyone's devices." You chuckled lightly before she enthusiastically took your hand. "Good to know, I'll keep that in mind for whenever my ex tries to contact me again". You two both began to break out into a small fit of giggles before another three people approached you.
Jennifer jaureu, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss and yourself exchanged greetings and humorous banter before Hotch ordered the team to meet in the briefing room for your first case. A mixture of excitement and consternation bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you cautiously made your way down the steps.
The team found their usual spots at the round table, leaving a singular spot next to Spencer Reid. You crept up to the seat, eyes darting wildly over anything that wasn't his own, before facing your body towards him.
"Could I- perhaps, sit here, please?" Spencer nearly jumped at your voice, a little startled by your sudden appearance. "Ah-well, y-yes of course, uh- nice to meet you, sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier I'm Dr. Spencer Reid. I didn't mean anything by it, it just seemed like you were busy with other people and- and it just-" "Reid!" Hotch slightly raised his voice to get the attention of the Dr. after calling it out about 5, 10, maybe even 15 times. It's not exactly like you were paying any attention to Hotchner either.
Spencer let out a meek "sorry" before The briefing began. The case involved a string of murders involving families in their own homes, those of which were alarmingly brutal. Even though you had worked with stuff similar to this in the academy, the reality of the crimes never fully set in as it did when you were the one investigating murders and catching the killers.
The briefing wrapped up and not long after it was "wheels up in 30" as Hotch likes to say. You felt like you were already learning a lot about everyone, making it much easier to feel comfortable around them. Although Spencer was still unexplored territory to you.
—x—
"Oh um yeah I really like that book! I mean I think you could already figure by me reading it.." he trailed off before awkwardly tittering. "Have you watched the movie too?" You questioned him, trying to get him to open up more regardless of the fact you were also extremely terrified of most human interaction.
"I have, surprisingly, I mostly just read books". He simply stated. "Ah I see, are you into any horror movies though? Because damn do I love them!!" "I do, I do! They're practically the only ones I watch but I have a fascination with the horror genre, as well as Halloween. Arguably the best holiday ever."
You laughed at his exceedingly biased opinion, sitting yourself down across from him on the plush couch to continue your conversation. In due time, the rest of the team piled in, Spencer and I's delightful discussion was cut short as we had to talk about real-life horror, not nearly as fun.
—x—
As you worked tirelessly into the once radiant sunlight-filled skies, now shrouded by darkness, you could feel the looming presence of slumber sneaking its way into every inch of your body. That seemed to be the way everyone else was feeling too, the drooping eyelids and slouched posture a tell-tale sign that we all needed some well-earned rest.
"Alright let's wrap it up for tonight, we aren't going to make any progress in this state and we need some fresh eyes," Hotch announced. We began packing our go-bags up to head to the least sketchy motel, which was still extremely mediocre at best.
You lazily undressed and threw on your oversized cal tech T-shirt, just your underwear underneath before crawling under the worn-in duvet covers. The moment your head hit the pillow you were out like a light.
The same unfortunately couldn't be said for dear Spencer, a lot was plaguing his thoughts. Some were about the case, most were about you. How smart you were, how pretty you were, and especially how well you got along. It wasn't often Reid warmed up to people this quick, even less so with that of the opposite gender, but he found himself getting lost deep in conversation with you. It felt too good to be true, after all he didn’t have the best luck with women.
As he twisted and turned over between his left and right sides, Spencer knew he was getting nowhere. His lanky frame sat upright on the bed, reaching out for his glasses to have some clue where he was heading. He glanced over at the time; 3:42 am, before creaking the door open carefully so as to not wake his dreaming coworkers.
The Dr. made his way in the direction of the lobby, passing by the arguably atrocious-looking floral wall print and stain-ridden carpet. Soon stopping by a janky old vending machine accompanied by an even dodgier-looking water dispenser. He fumbled around in his sweatpants pockets before he inserted a coin to get the sweetest coffee available. He scrunched his nose in dismay, it wasn't sweet at all (It probably was but we know how much sugar this man likes in his coffee).
"Spencer..?" A voice chimed out to him, your voice. "Oh (Y/N), what are.. you um- doing here?" He fidgeted with his hands before looking down to make eye contact. "I could say the same thing," you snickered. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I might as well get some coffee before I attempted to do some more work on the case," He explained.
His eyes travelled even further down your figure, passing the ends of the messy (H/C) hair cascading down your chest. He noticed a familiar bold black text plastered on the front of your T-shirt. The realisation hit in the form of a deep red blush creeping its way up his neck onto his sculpted cheeks, as you were wearing the exact same thing. Excluding the bottom wear, were you even wearing anything underneath- fucking hell could this get any worse for him?
Quick answer, it could. You reached your arm up to snatch the coffee from his grasp, tutting your lip while your shirt had risen just about as far as it could go before you'd flash your lace panties for anyone to see. "Give me that, you need to sleep!" You scolded him, your palm pressed flat against his chest, trying to obtain the drink. He sharply inhaled at the movement, unsure of what to do next.
"It's ok seriously, I wouldn't be able to sleep either way." He assured you, but your stubborn ass couldn't take that as an answer. "You could always come to my room, I'm sure me cuddling you would make you sleep like a baby," you teased. "E-excuse me, what.. do you-" "I'm only kidding, jeez ever heard of sarcasm?" You heartily laughed.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to articulate any kind of thought racing his temporarily stupefied mind into speech. As Emily said an IQ of 187 was slashed to 60. Luckily for him, you chose to pull away to grab a disposable cup. Lukewarm water trickled into it as you waited impatiently for it to fill.
"God, could this take any longer?" You let out an exaggerated huff before downing it in one go. "And room temperature too?! This place desperately needs some upgrades." Spencer chuckled at your hysterics before you snapped back at him, "What exactly do think you're laughing at, if I recall correctly you were the one left all cute and flustered by my little joke." You raised your eyebrow waiting for a response yet none came, that sure shut him up.
The thud of the coffee cup as it dropped to the bottom of the trash can rang through both of your ears before you promptly turned on your slippers to head back to your own... compact, motel room. Leaving him a star-struck mess who would certainly not need any caffeinated beverages to stay awake till dawn.
Hope this wasn’t dog shit and you enjoyed, l’ll be uploading more parts to this series soon. Thanks for reading and feel free to make any requests for Spencer 😜.
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michelle-is-writing · 10 months
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Forehead Kisses, Spencer Reid Drabble
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Word Count: 500~
Ever since our first date, Spencer has always kissed me on the forehead. He's kissed me on the forehead more times than he has my lips or cheeks. It's because of this fact that I question why he prefers that over anything else.
Before he leaves for work, he kisses me on the forehead. Before we fall asleep, he kisses me on the forehead. Even when we're making love, he chooses to kiss me on the forehead instead of my lips. It's almost like every time he kisses me somewhere other than my forehead, it's sacrilegious. Don't get me wrong, I love it whenever Spencer kisses me, but I just wonder why he kisses me there more and nowhere else.
"Hey, Spence," I break the silence of our quiet apartment as Spencer cuddles me close to him on the couch, his arm around me as I lay against his side. Both of us are clad in our pajamas and mismatched socks, our hair going every way but flat. "Why do you kiss me on the forehead so much?" I ask, looking up at the sweet man. From this angle, all I see is his jawline and light scruff from the morning. It's always nice to see him calm and laid back for a change.
Looking down at me, Spencer waits a few moments before smiling and kissing my forehead like always. "I don't know," he answers, shrugging a little. "I just like to kiss your forehead," Spencer says, reaching a hand up to run his thumb gently against my cheek.
Smiling along with him, I move to sit up on my knees and face him, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Yeah, but you never kiss my cheeks or lips; only my forehead," I point out, lightly giggling afterward. "And don't get me wrong, I love your kisses... but why that preference?"
As if he realized something, his smile softens a bit as he looks away from my eyes. A slight blush rises to his cheeks as he thinks, staying quiet for a few moments. It was a weird question to ask him, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, thankfully.
It isn't until he looks back up at me that he answers my question, the hand on my cheek sliding up to move a lock of hair to the side of my face. "Well, statistics show that most men prefer kissing their significant other on the lips, sixty-eight percent to be exact. Sixteen percent prefer the cheek, ten percent prefer the hand, and six percent prefer the forehead... I guess I'm just part of the minority," Still smiling, Spencer leans into my ear where he whispers one more thing. "Plus, it's where all your beautiful thoughts are~"
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Text
But it’s Better if You Do | SR x Fem! Reader
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Summary - the Blue Siren strip club is the last place Spencer Reid wants to spend his birthday. And the absolute last thing he needs is to fall for you, the magnetic exotic dancer who Morgan and Luke pay to give him a birthday dance.
A/N - as a rule, I am not technically writing Spencer x Reader right now but this is for @imagining-in-the-margins damsel in distress challenge although it’s a very vague fit. Kind of anti damsel in distress? I don’t know, let’s just roll with it. Candy Shop by 50 Cent is the song used in Magic Mike XXL when Adam Rodriguez does his lil sexy dance so the song choice was an homage to that. Loosely based around the Panic at the Disco song “But it’s Better if You Do.”
Pairing - Spencer Reid x Exotic Dancer Fem! Reader
Category - fluff I suppose? Maybe mild angst. Happy ending.
CW - exotic dancer reader, Morgan and Luke are bad wingmen, hints at lesbian Emily, strip clubs, snarky Spencer, drinking, swearing, Spencer and his inappropriate erection, brief mentions of masturbation, making out.
WC - 8.2k
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Oh, isn't this exactly where you'd like me?
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know.
Praying for love and a lap dance,
And paying in naivety.
The last place Spencer Reid ever expected to find himself on his fortieth birthday was at the Blue Siren Club just off of Dupont Circle. For starters, Spencer wasn’t a big drinker so going to a bar didn’t appeal to him on any other given night, let alone his birthday, but there was much more to the Blue Siren than just being your run of the mill club.
The Blue Siren was well known as being one of the most reputable strip clubs in the district. According to the extensive research Spencer had done when he found out he was to be coming here, it was one of the more exclusive clubs, and if Morgan was to be believed it was popular among law enforcement and other government officials due to its clandestine nature.
From the outside, the Blue Siren looked just like a normal club. If you were to pass it by you may not even glance up at the exposed brick facade and black front door. In the lone window in the front sat a small blue neon sign boosting the club's name and that was all. You wouldn’t be alone in walking right past the establishment without batting an eyelid. 
When Luke had suggested the idea to spend his birthday here, Spencer’s immediate reaction had been laughter, because it had to be a joke, right? Strip clubs and Spencer Reid were not a combination anyone who knew him would put together, surely? 
“Why are you laughing?” Luke frowned at him, folding his arms across his chest. 
“Because you’re making a joke?” 
“No, I’m not.” 
“You’re not?” Spencer’s laughter came to a sudden halt and he stared at Luke in disbelief. “You…you seriously think that’s how I want to spend my birthday?” 
“I was talking to Morgan and-“
“No sentence in the history of the English language that starts with “I was talking to Morgan” has ever had a happy ending.” Spencer scoffed. 
“It’s the happy ending part we’re trying to achieve.” Luke smirked at him, a playful hint in his eye that caused Spencer to swallow thickly at the implication. 
“Y-you…I…” 
“When was the last time you got laid, Reid?” 
Spencer felt the moment his cheeks burnt with an intense embarrassment. In all the years he’d known Luke they had never once discussed their sex lives. In fact, Spencer made it a rule to never discuss his sex life with anyone. 
“That’s a deeply personal question.” He shrunk in on himself. 
“Which is Spencer Reid for, it’s been a while.” Luke smiled knowingly. 
“I…I don’t have to answer that.” 
“You kinda just did.” 
“Regardless,” Spencer shook his head, trying to steer the conversation off of his sex life, or lack thereof. “Strip clubs aren’t brothels. The women don’t sleep with their customers.”
“Morgan and I decided it was slightly more appropriate than buying you a hooker.” 
If Spencer thought he was embarrassed before, he was now absolutely mortified. 
“I don’t need help getting “laid”, as you so eloquently put it.” Spencer shook his head, turning back to his desk and sorting through some papers to distract himself.
“Don’t you?” An amused voice came from behind him and Spencer groaned, running his hands through his hair. He turned slowly in his chair to see Emily standing over him, an almost delighted look in her eyes. “What are we talking about?”
“Morgan and I want to take Reid to Blue Siren for his birthday next week.” Luke filled her in.
“Oh that place is great!” She beamed. “Can I come?”
“Where are we going?” Rossi seemingly appeared as if from nowhere with his coffee and newspaper. 
Spencer grumbled, face palming his hand as the group around him gathered.
“We’re taking Spence to Blue Siren for his birthday.” Emily happily told him.
“Blue Siren? Huh,” Rossi nodded his head. “I haven’t been there for years, count me in. I’ll even see if Hotch wants to join.”
“For the love of god.” Spencer muttered against his hand. No one seemed to hear him and if they did, they ignored him.
“Join what? What did I miss?” Garcia came tottering in on her too high heels, laptop balanced precariously in the crook of her arm.
“Apparently the kid wants to go to a strip club for his birthday.” Rossi informed her.
“No, No.” Spencer shook his head, looking up at them. “The kid does not want to go to a strip club for his birthday.”
“Oh isn’t it the big four-oh?” Garcia bounced up and down in excitement. “You have to do something special for it!”
“I highly doubt a strip club can be deemed as special.” Spencer rolled his eyes.
“Strip club?” Matt strolled into the conversation now and Spencer wanted to just vanish into thin air.
“Yeah we’re taking Reid for his birthday. Want in?” Luke asked him.
“As long as no one ever tells Kristy.” Matt chuckled. 
“What aren’t we telling Kristy?” Tara popped her head up from her desk, Spencer didn’t even know she was there. 
“That we’re going to a strip club for Reid’s birthday.” Matt offered her a sly smile.
“Oh sweet! Count me in.” She grinned. 
“How about you guys go, since you’re all so excited about it and just tell me how it was? I’ll stay home with a book or something.” Spencer sighed but no one acknowledged him. 
The door opened again and JJ meandered in, all eyes turning to look at her. 
“Uh, hi?” She laughed awkwardly as she walked across the bullpen.
“Have you ever been to a strip club, Jayje?”
Spencer groaned loudly, crumbling in on himself and smacking his head against the hardwood of his desk. Sometimes it was just easier to go along with these things than try to fight them.
And so, only slightly against his will, Spencer let them talk him into spending his birthday in the last place he ever expected to find himself, least of all on his birthday. The whole team was in attendance, plus Morgan and Hotch, he could only assume to have a front row seat to his complete mortification. They met outside the club, waiting for JJ who was late due to the fact she couldn't get Michael to go to sleep. Luke had gone so far as to pick Spencer up from his apartment, which was in the opposite direction, just so the birthday boy wouldn’t have an excuse for ditching them at the last minute.
“Is that really what you’re wearing to go to a strip club, pretty boy?” Morgan nudged Spencer in the arm.
Spencer glanced down at his attire, what he would call a sensible outfit but was clearly not what he was supposed to be wearing given Morgan’s judgemental gaze. It wasn’t a far cry from what he wore everyday, it wasn’t as though Morgan had never seen him dress like this before. He’d donned a perfectly pressed pair of black slacks, pairing them with his old faithful converse, a crisp blue button down and his black Comme Des Garçons cardigan Rossi had gifted him for his birthday a few years ago. He’d decided against a tie, because that seemed too formal for the occasion even for him. 
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” He frowned, pouting a little. 
He quickly eyed up the other men who were all wearing jeans and t-shirts, Rossi and Hotch included. He couldn’t even get started on how strange it was to see Hotch in jeans. 
“You look like a TA.” Matt shrugged. 
“I always look like a TA. Do you guys think I suddenly dress differently outside of work?” He folded his arms.
“I kind of hoped you did.” Luke smirked. 
“Isn’t it supposed to be my birthday?” Spencer grumbled. “I’m already at the last place I want to celebrate so please can we just leave my outfit choices alone?” 
“I think you look dapper.” Tara patted his shoulder like he was her annoying kid brother or something. 
“Thanks?” He pulled a face. 
“And speaking of birthdays!” Garcia was rummaging in her oversized purse before pulling something out. “Voila!”
Spencer frowned at the large, slightly garish, blue and yellow badge proclaiming “Forty Today” in obnoxious bubble font. It was bigger than Garcia’s hand, she surely didn’t expect him to wear that.
“Uh, no offence but there is no way in hell you are getting me to wear that.” He took it from her anyway, slotting it in the front of his satchel. 
“Spoil sport.” Emily chided him. “Anyone would think you don’t like your birthday!”
“I don’t very much like this particular birthday.” He muttered under his breath. “Where is Jennifer? I’d really like to just get this over with.” 
As if on cue, he heard heels on the concrete ground and seconds later the blonde appeared, dragging someone behind her. She smiled as she came round the corner, tugging Will into view under the streetlamp. 
Oh good, more people to witness my humiliation. 
“Hey guys, sorry we’re late!” She gave them apologetic glances. 
“Will, I didn’t know you’d be joining us.” Penelope hugged JJ and then Will.
“You think I was going to sit at home while my wife goes to a strip club?” He chuckled. “I may never get the opportunity to have permission to do this again in my life. Thanks Spence.” 
“You’re so very welcome.” Spencer replied sarcastically. “Can we just get on with this now?” 
“That’s the spirit.” Luke chuckled, draping his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and leading him through the non-descript door.
Inside a long, narrow corridor stretched out before them, the distant thrums of bass heavy music, causing the floor to feel like it was vibrating beneath him. A burly doorman awaited them, so broad he almost encompassed the entire corridor. 
“Hey man, I have a reservation under Alvez. It's this guy's big four-oh.” Luke gripped Spencer tightly, shaking him a little. 
The doorman glanced down at a piece of paper in his hand, scanning over it for a second before looking back up at the motley crew, clearly trying to discern if he needed to card anyone but it was immediately clear he didn’t. 
“Follow me,” He motioned for them to come with him.
Luke took the lead, dragging Spencer by his hold on his shoulders. The music got louder the further down the black corridor they got. It was dark and Spencer had to squint to see the man only a few feet in front of him, the corridor only lit by a single red light bulb swinging from the low ceiling that Spencer almost had to duck to walk under. 
At the end of the corridor was another door and the music had reached fever pitch at this point. Spencer felt as though he could taste the beat, he could certainly feel it palpitating in his chest. The doorman shoved open the door and Spencer blinked against the sudden wave of lights that smacked against his retinas. 
Luke finally let go of his shoulders, the doorway too narrow for the two of them to pass through together and motioned Spencer in front of him. Spencer stepped into the room, surprised by the sudden change in flooring, casting his eyes down to see a plush burgundy carpet now under foot. He tried not to contemplate how many germs were living in that carpet, how many drinks had been spilled and soaked into it over the years, how many other fluids it might have absorbed on top of it. He was sure this place would light up like a christmas tree under a black light. 
He grimaced, looking back up and following in the doormans footsteps across the room. He tried to keep his eyes straight ahead, desperate not to look around and take in his surroundings but his morbid curiosity got the better of him. 
Admittedly if he’d imagined what the inside of a strip club would look like this would have been plucked straight from his imagination. The main lighting was low, shielding most of the seating area in an almost ominous glow. The booths were made up of plush, gold velvet sofas, large dark oak tables in the centre of them. There was a long bar on one side, made of the same oak only its surface seemed to glitter when the light hit it. Over the back were two large velveteen curtains, concealing what Spencer could only assume was the private dance areas. There were four raised platforms each with their own golden, floor to ceiling pole in the centre, blue spotlights pointed at each one. Each podium had a scantily clad young girl dancing in upon it and Spencer quickly averted his gaze again, not wanting to be seen to objectify them. 
“You know the whole reason they are there is to be looked at right?” Morgan was suddenly at his side, nudging him in the arm. 
“It feels very…voyeuristic.” Spencer swallowed.
“Have you seriously never been to a strip club, Reid?” Matt was now at his other side. 
“Why is that so hard to believe? Do I really strike you as the kind of guy who goes to strip clubs?” They arrived at the table and Morgan motioned for Spencer to take a seat while the others sat around him. 
“It’s usually the quiet ones.” Morgan smirked at him. 
“I cannot believe Savannah is ok with you being here.”
“She was fine with it when I told her it was for your birthday.” Morgan winked at him.
“Do I need to tell you what I told Luke? This is not a brothel, I am not getting laid here.” Spencer sighed in exasperation. 
“It's not too late to take you to a brothel, kid.” Rossi smirked, before excusing himself to the bar. 
“This is the lesser of the two evils, trust me.” Spencer sat back against the plush seat and tried to keep his eyes to himself. It was a difficult feat when just in front of them was another podium with a blonde woman dancing in the skimpiest pair of underwear Spencer had ever seen. 
“No deflowering of boy wonder tonight, please.” Garcia giggled.
“Deflower…you are aware I am not a virgin, right?” Spencer pulled a face, was that how people saw him? 
“I was joking, Spence, calm down.” Garcia rolled her eyes, still tittering to herself. 
“It's that kind of defensive attitude that makes people think you are.” Luke, who was sitting on his left, nudged him. 
“I’m fairly certain if I said the same to you, you would be just as defensive.” Spencer shook his head. 
Just then, Rossi returned carrying a tray of champagne flutes and setting them on the table in the centre. He was closely followed by another young woman carrying an ice bucket in each hand, each with a bottle of the club's most expensive champagne chilling inside. 
Spencer didn’t want to look, really didn’t want to be seen to objectify, but the scent of lavender perfume seemed to flood his senses, his brain, and he could no longer think straight all of a sudden. His eyes which had been attached to the floor glanced over to the pair of deep purple, satin peep toe heels which were standing right in front of him. Slowly his eyes trailed upwards, over a set of long, smooth legs, until meeting a silk pair of dangerously tiny panties, matching the shoes in colour, which he quickly scanned over. His eyes worked up the torso until they came to the chest and the purple silk bra that really left very little to the imagination. Swallowing thickly, his eyes continued their ascent to the face and that’s when time seemed to slow to a halt.
Spencer quivered, actually trembled as he took in your soft features and dazzling eyes. The smile on your lips as you looked at him seemed genuine, and not at all like it was a pain for you to be here. You set down the ice buckets and went about opening one of the bottles, pouring everyone a glass. When you poured Spencer’s glass, bending a little as you did so, his eyes couldn’t help the way they dipped to your cleavage spilling out over the top of your bra.
He quickly snapped his gaze away and thanked you with a shaky smile. He crossed one leg over the other in an attempt to hide an arising problem in his pants.
“I’m Y/N, I’ll be your host for the evening.” You had to speak loudly to be heard by everyone over the pulsing music in the club. “Which one of you is the birthday boy?”
Your eyes flicked between the men in the group, well all of them except the all guy who had paid for the drinks. You’d been informed it was a fortieth birthday, there was no way it was him. 
“This guy right here,” Morgan grinned, gripping Spencer by the shoulders. 
You looked back at the slightly shy, uptight man in his shirt and cardigan, who was holding onto his champagne flute for dear life. He was not your usual clientele, if you didn’t know any better you would think he didn’t want to be here at all. 
“Well, I guess it’s my lucky night.” You couldn’t help but wink at him and even in the low light you saw the way his cheeks instantly flushed pink. 
Usually in your line of work, exotic dancing, not stripping, thank you very much, the men you were paid to dance for were older, usually kind of creepy. Admittedly none of the younger men at the table were bad on the eyes, but this one was especially handsome, even if he was absolutely pertrided. 
“What’s your name, stud?” You placed one hand on your hip and the other you held out for him to shake. 
You saw him swallow, taking a sip of his drink as if to lubricate his mouth so he could speak. 
“S-Spencer.” He took your hand and shook it. It was warm and so much larger than your own, even if it was a little sweaty. 
“Nice to meet you, S-Spencer.” You teased, hoping to ease some tension but it seemed to have the opposite effect. 
He shrunk in on himself, grimacing a little and looking as though he would quite literally rather be anywhere else in the world. 
“You too.” His voice jumped several octaves. 
Most of the rest of the team watched in amusement at Spencer’s discomfort, all of them aside from Emily who had wandered off to watch a redhead dance, tossing dollar bills at her and Luke who although was still seated, clearly had his eyes on the blonde on the podium in front of them. 
“So, shall we get to the good stuff?” You asked him now and he almost choked on his drink. 
“G-good stuff?” His eyes widened in terror.
“Your friends here paid for you to have a private birthday dance. They didn’t tell you?” 
Spencer clenched his jaw and turned to his friends, anger leaching from his eyes.
“I would like to go on record and say I did not invest any money in this particular endeavour.” Hotch was quick to speak up.
“This is just from me and Alvez. Happy birthday, stud.” Morgan winked at him.
If Spencer was a violent man, he would have wrung Morgan’s neck, maybe bashed his and Luke’s heads together until they lost consciousness. He was fairly certain after all his years on the job he could murder them both and get away with it. 
Maybe if you hadn’t been there, standing over him and looking so goddamn delicious in his favourite colour as well, he might have given the two men an ear full. But it wasn’t the time or place and so he swallowed his anger, keeping it bottled up until later and turning back to you. 
“Let’s just…get this over with.” Spencer stood up, grabbing his glass and the full bottle of champagne, god knows he was going to need it, and following you towards one of the curtained off areas. 
You held the curtain back for him to enter first and he did so without letting himself think about what was going to happen when the two of you were alone. The private room was much the same as the main room, only smaller with no bar. There was another plush golden couch in the centre, a smaller raised platform with a pole on the far wall. The wallpaper was a deep, cherry red, swirled with black and a gold chandelier hung from the ceiling offering, once again, very little light. 
Spencer could only assume he was supposed to sit, so slightly reluctantly he dragged his pathetic ass to the couch and sat in the centre of it. He downed the remains of his champagne before swiftly uncorking the bottle. You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his large, veiny hand expertly pulling the cork from the bottle, like it was the easiest thing in the world. You shuddered a little at the thought of what else his hands might be capable of. 
He discarded the glass on the floor and opted instead to drink straight from the bottle, not something Spencer would ever usually do, but this whole night was so out of the ordinary for him, he decided to just lean into it. You came and stood in front of him, hands on your hips as you looked down on him.
“Not big into sharing?” You smirked at him.
“You…I assumed because you were working…”
You chuckled, reaching out and taking the bottle from his hands and taking a hefty sip. You felt the bubbles tickle the back of your throat and branch out towards your brain.
“I can indulge a little, as long as I don’t get off my face. Besides, the alcohol helps when the customer is particularly…” you searched for the right word. “Old. Ugly. Generally gross.” 
Spencer frowned at you, processing your words. 
“I guess Alvez and Morgan didn’t spring for the package where you pretend to be nice to me.” He tried to not sound as pathetic as he felt but failed miserably.
To his surprise you giggled in response, handing him back the champagne.
“Trust me, stud, you’re one customer I don’t need to drink to have fun with.” You winked at him and heard a little whimper leave his lips. He tried to cover it up by drinking more.
“Fuck,” he mumbled against the bottle top. “Let’s just…I don’t suppose we can just sit here and pretend you gave me a lap dance?” 
“Not a chance.” You smiled, sauntering on your heels over to the stereo setup in the corner. You hit play and music pulsed into the room through the speakers situated in each corner. Spencer woefully recognised the song as 50 Cent’s Candy Shop, he’d heard Morgan listen to it on more than a few occasions over the years.
You strutted back over to him, wiggling your hips to the music as you went. Spencer tried to keep his eyes trained on the bottle as he drank, refusing to let himself look at you. You made it back over to him and once again took the bottle from his hands. You sipped from it delicately, bending over to place it on the floor, ensuring to give Spencer a show of your ass as you did so. 
A low hiss left his lips, probably at the realisation you were wearing a thong. God you were going to enjoy this. 
You stood back up and started swaying to the music, stepping between his open legs. He looked up at you through frightened doe eyes, the most beautiful shade of brown you’d ever seen. His long, messy curls fell in his face and his pouty bottom lip was too kissable for words. You shook that thought off as fast as you could.
You turned you away from him, thinking it easier if you didn’t look at his gorgeous face. You knew his eyes went straight to your bare ass, you could practically feel his gaze on you. 
“You can touch me, Spencer, just nowhere inappropriate please.” Really you wanted those hands to touch you everywhere inappropriate but that kind of behaviour was frowned upon within the walls of the club. 
“I’m…I’m good.” He croaked.
You smiled to yourself as you slowly lowered yourself into his lap, perching at first on his knees before wiggling backwards. 
Spencer gasped loudly as your ass settled into his crotch and without even looking at him you knew he would be one hundred shades of red. 
It certainly wasn’t the first time a man had gotten hard when you’d given them a lap dance and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. It may well be the first time you’d enjoyed it though. 
“Jesus Christ.” He whimpered, your back now flush with his chest, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “I am so, so sorry. This is humiliating.” 
“Don’t be embarrassed.” You grinded against him in time to the music. “I know I am attractive and I am also half naked. Honestly, I’d be a little offended if you weren’t excited by that.” 
“Right. Right.” Spencer nodded, wishing he could reach the champagne bottle. “So uh…how does one get into this line of work? Stripping.” 
He needed to try and take his mind off of how unfathomably good you felt rolling your ass against his dick. 
“I’m not a stripper.” You chided him, pinching his knee with your long acrylic nails as punishment. “I’m an exotic dancer. I don’t take my clothes off. Well, no more so than this.” 
He grumbled at the pain you inflicted on his leg but the pleasure more than outweighed it. 
“Apologies, I hope I wasn’t out of line.” 
“It’s ok, it’s a common misconception. And I started working here to help pay my student loans. I stayed because I love what I do.” You grinded particularly hard against him and he whimpered against your neck. 
“You went to college?” He sounded surprised. 
“Yes, I’m not some bimbo, stud.” You rolled your eyes, another common misconception.
“Sorry.” He clenched his jaw, his cock twitching dangerously in his pants. “What uh, what did you study?” 
“Psychology.”
“No kidding?” He sounded genuinely impressed. “You have a degree in psychology and you work here?” 
You suddenly turned around, kneeling over Spencer, one leg hooked over each of his thighs. His eyes were wide as he stared at you, swallowing thickly. 
“Look, you’re cute but don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of moron and try to make me feel like working here makes me less of a person.” You reached and gripped his jaw, digging your fake nails into his stubbly cheeks.
“I…I didn’t mean it like that, I-“
“I choose to work here.” You cut him off, lowering yourself so you were seated in his lap, straddling him. “I enjoy working here. It gives me a sense of power, I’m choosing to show off my body, to turn men like you into pathetic messes.” 
Spencer moaned, didn’t even try to disguise it. You let go of his face and went to stand up but Spencer surprised you when his hands flew to your hips, gripping you firmly and keeping you in place. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He spoke, for the first time sounding close to confident. “You’re stunning and clearly good at your job.” He nodded down to his crotch and how he was straining against his slacks. “I didn’t mean to sound patronising or anything like that. I was merely trying to make conversation and I’m sorry if I upset you. But quite frankly, Y/N, if I don’t keeping talking I’m going to do something really fucking stupid.” 
You narrowed your eyes on him, stilling your movements as the music came to end. He kept his grip on your hips and you found yourself a little dizzy by the firmness in which he held you. 
“Stupid like what?” Your chest heaved with heavy breaths and Spencer’s eyes briefly flicked down and he hissed again at the sight. 
“Something that could probably get you fired, and neither of us wants that.” He grinded up against you this time and a soft moan left your lips. 
“Jesus,” you whined, the tables well and truly turned. “Can you just…I don’t know…give me a clue?” 
Spencer chuckled a little, moving one hand from your hip to the back of your neck and tugging you closer to him. His lips were close to your ear, ghosting over the skin. It was like a switch had been flipped, the shy and awkward guy who hadn’t even wanted a lap dance was gone, replaced by this confident and self-assured man now beneath you. 
His breath fanned across the side of your face and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. 
“Let’s just say it would involve both of us wearing a lot less clothes and you screaming my name.” 
You whimpered like a dog that had just been kicked and attempted to clamp your legs together but his were in the way. Suddenly he dropped both of his hands to his sides and looked at you darkly. 
“Get up.” He commanded you and you were dumb to do anything by comply. 
“I need to go.” He stood up, snatching up the bottle of champagne. “Thanks for that.” 
You watched him scurry away, seemingly reverting back to the shy creature he’d been initially. He fled back through the curtain, leaving you with an intense heat between your legs. 
Goddamnit, you swallowed, trying to compose yourself. I might have just found my kryptonite. 
***
Two weeks passed and Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you sitting in his lap, that goddamn purple lingerie glowing against your skin. It never failed to make him painfully hard in a matter of seconds and he’d spent more time than he could count masturbating over thoughts of you the last two weeks.
Eventually he couldn’t keep himself away if he tried. Emily had given them the weekend off and sitting alone in his apartment on Saturday night, his limbs had moved without the forethought to do so. And of course he’d ended up outside Blue Siren. 
He paid the cover charge and saw himself inside, ambling over to the bar and ordering himself a scotch. He watched the room, in a way he was trained to do, watching and waiting for a glimpse of you. 
He’d gotten down three drinks before finally he saw you across the room. His cock twitched almost instantly. Today you wore a crimson red lace teddy with shoes to match. He preferred the purple, liked it when you had more skin on display, but you still looked like a fallen fucking angel. An incredibly sexy fallen angel. 
He finished the remains of his drink and set the glass down on the bar before heading your way. 
As soon as you saw him, you couldn’t help the way your whole face lit up. He looked much the same as he had last time in his smart shirt and slacks but today he’d bypassed the cardigan and had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 
“Stud, you came back.” You smirked at him, placing one hand on your hip. 
“Can we talk?” 
“I’m on the clock.” You shrugged. “My time has to be paid for.”
Spencer rolled his eyes and fished his wallet out of his pocket, flashing a large wad of bills. He pulled one out and stuffed it in your hand.
“How much will a hundred get me?” 
You looked down at the bill wide eyed, seeing it was actually a hundred dollars. You looked back at him with a smile.
“At least a few dances.” You turned on your heels and motioned for him to follow you towards the private room you’d occupied a few weeks ago. 
Once inside you watched him get comfortable on the couch.
“You sure you just want to talk? I can dance and talk at the same time, I’m just that good.” You winked at him.
“N-no.” He shook his head. “No dancing, please?”
“Fine.” You chuckled, coming over and sitting next to him on the couch. “What’s up? Must be important if you’re willing to drop a C-Note on me.” 
“I uh, I wanted to apologise for my conduct the other week. It was very unlike me and I wanted you to know I’m sorry.” His cheeks flushed.
“Hmm.” You mused. “See, I don’t think it was unlike you. I think you allowed yourself to be completely authentic in that moment, letting out a side of yourself you don’t normally let people see.” 
“That psych degree is paying off, I see.” His lip twitched into a small smirk.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” 
“People see me a certain way.” He sighed a little as he spoke. “I’m the smart one, the bookish, awkward one. I’ve been seen that way for as long as I can remember. I guess I grew out of it but no one around me sees that. So maybe I play up the persona a little because it's what’s expected of me.” He confessed, not sure why he was doing so but you oddly put him at ease.
“Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it's easier to play into the expected, to fall into the roles people assign us rather than forge our own identity. You know, I only got my degree to prove I could. I wanted to prove, even if only to myself, that there was more to me than people expected of me. One day I might do something with it but for now, I really do love my job. But now I know I could do something else if I chose to.” You were equally surprised by your honesty. 
“My friends brought me here because they think I’m some kind of pathetic sad sack that can’t get laid.” He chuckled wistfully. 
“Oh but I bet you have no problem in that department, from what I could tell.” Maybe you leant closer to him, you certainly didn’t mean to, but you were sure he was closer now.
“I do alright.” The glint in his eyes told you he did better than alright and why did that cause a rumble of jealousy in your chest? 
This time it was him that leaned closer to you, his large hand finding your thigh. You felt your chest tighten at the way it felt.
“I’m not going to sleep with you.” You spoke but you didn’t particularly believe your own voice. 
“Not here, certainly not.” He inched his hand higher and you didn’t stop him.
“Not here, not anywhere.” 
“Tell yourself that all you want, princess.” He growled the last word, eliciting a whimper from your lips. 
“I don’t sleep with customers. Full stop.” 
“You sleep with me, I promise I will never come back here.” He dared edge his hand higher, now right at the top of your thigh.
“You should leave.” You said, but you didn’t move or push him away. 
“I just paid you a hundred dollars, I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezed your thigh, his fingers digging into your flesh. 
“Maybe I did prefer it when you were shy.”
“No you didn’t.” He smiled in a knowing way. And he was right. “Let me take you out, show you what I’m really like.” 
You swallowed, god how you would love that. But no. You couldn’t succumb. 
“Not gonna happen.” You took hold of his hand and forcibly removed it from your thigh. You removed the bill he’d given you from where you’d tucked it in the side of your panties and tossed it at him. “Keep your money. Leave before I call security.” 
Spencer chuckled to himself, shaking his head and placing the note on the couch, leaving it there as he stood up. 
“I’m not a threat, you don’t need to call security.” He held his hands up in defeat. “I think you know as well as I do that there's something between us, I just don’t know why you won’t admit to it. But whatever, I’ll go.” 
He went to move past you but as he did, his fingers circled your wrist. He turned your hand over and forcibly put his business card in your open hand. 
“In case you change your mind, princess.” With that he was gone, leaving your legs shaking in his wake. 
You looked down at the card in your hand and frowned to yourself as you read the words adorned on it. 
Doctor Spencer Reid. FBI. 
Huh. That was an interesting turn of events. 
***
Spencer didn’t return to the club again, respecting your boundaries and just holding onto a small glimmer of hope that you would call. But weeks passed and you never did. 
In all honesty, he wasn’t that surprised. He expected you’d tossed the card the minute he’d walked through that curtain and never given him a second thought. 
He didn’t often allow himself to get close to people for this very reason. When Spencer fell for someone it happened fast and hard and now you were the only thing he could think of and it was tearing him in two. 
It was Morgan and Luke’s fault. Them and their dumb idea to take him to a strip club for his birthday. He decided his next birthday was cancelled, the one after that too. Screw it, all his birthdays were cancelled indefinitely. 
Thankfully due to the BAU’s heavy caseload and him teaching classes at Marlborough University, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to dwell on you, which was for the best. 
He’d just have to resign himself to being alone again. Just like always. 
***
For weeks that card felt like it was burning a hole in your pocket. You didn’t intend on calling Spencer, but you just couldn’t get rid of it. There was something different about him, something that begged you to get to know him. But you had to resist temptation, it would only end badly like it always did. 
Still, you couldn’t help but picture his face when you gave an old, sad man a lap dance, wishing it were him instead. It never failed to send chills down your spine when you thought of the way his persona had flipped from shy and slightly nerdy, to suddenly so self assured. 
But you had to stop thinking about him. Thinking about him was fruitless. But of course you couldn’t, because like it or not, you were going to see him again. 
You’d almost considered pulling out of the class, as soon as you’d seen his name on the business card you knew it would be a bad idea to go through with it. But you’d been excited about this for months and you really didn’t want to wait another semester to take it. You just had to hope you could get through it without incident, however unlikely that seemed. 
“Ok, let's take a moment now to discuss the difference between a trigger and a stressor. A trigger is a sensory event experienced by an offender that precipitates subsequent behaviour whereas a stressor is a longer term pattern of behaviour or circumstances which push a person into behaving differently than they normally would. You might want to write this down. I probably shouldn’t be telling you guys this but I’m definitely putting this on the final.”
You watched the brunette a few rows in front of you coyly tell Professor Reid she was simply auditing the class. You couldn’t help but smirk when an array of other beautiful girls raised their hands when he asked who else was auditing. He was the youngest, best looking professor on campus, it was no surprise his class had drawn in a crowd of young girls to fawn over him. 
“Uh…ok.” He shook his head, checking his watch. “Unfortunately that is all the time we have for today. Thank you guys.”
You stayed seated while the rest of the class filtered out, watching him collect a stack of papers and put them in his worn satchel before turning to erase the writing on the whiteboard. You stuffed your laptop away and crept down the stairs towards the front of the class, fingers toying with the small white piece of card.
“What was your stressor, Professor? Or should I say, Doctor?” 
You saw his back go rigid and for a moment or two he didn't move a muscle. He set the whiteboard eraser down and slowly turned around as you waved his business card at him. He couldn’t help the way his eyes raked up and down your body, clad in jeans and a t-shirt, more than he was used to seeing on you. He still thought you looked like a goddamn angel.
“Uh, I’m sorry, what?” He frowned, clearly at a loss for words. 
“You said a stressor is a longer term pattern of behaviour or circumstances which push a person into behaving differently than they normally would. When I first met you, you behaved differently than you normally would, am I right? Pretending to be this shy, awkward little thing.” You quipped your eyebrow at him.
“For the record I wasn’t pretending. It wasn’t some kind of ruse or something. I am generally shy and awkward. But I have learnt to assert myself when I need to, for instance, when I see something I want. I got carried away that night at the club and I’m sorry for that, that was out of character for me.” He leant back against the edge of the desk and perched on it. “Why are you in my class, Y/N?”
“I signed up for this class before I met you. I didn’t even know you were the professor until you gave me your card.” You shrugged a little nervously. 
You were more uncomfortable in normal social settings. At the Blue Siren, where you commanded the room, the confidence oozed for you. But in the real world you were much uncomfortable in your own skin. 
“You want to be a profiler?” He scrutinised you with his gaze.
“Maybe someday. I told you, I don’t necessarily want to work at the club forever, I want options.”
“But you love your job.” He repeated what you’d told him.
“I do.” You nodded. “If this is going to be weird I can drop out. I can go to Georgetown next semester, although their professor is not a legit FBI agent with the BAU.” You chuckled a little.
“Why would it be weird?” 
“Because,” you shrugged. “Since the second you turned around and saw me standing here, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes.” 
Spencer smiled, a hint of a blush gracing his cheeks.
“I have, it's true.” He agreed. “I can’t help it if I’ve already seen so much of it.” 
“I don’t think you should want to sleep with your students.” 
“There’s no rule against it.” He chuckled, pushing himself back to his feet. “My students are all over the legal age, if I was to sleep with one of them, it would be completely consensual and no rules would be broken.”
“You’re talking from experience.” You stated and his eyes playfully glistened.
“Maybe.” He shrugged but his face said it all. “I told you, I do alright.” 
“Well, I can tell you for a fact I won’t be one of them.” 
“And that’s your loss.” He turned his back on you now and started gathering up his things, slinging his satchel over his head. “Excuse me, I have papers to grade.” 
You watched him saunter away, leaving you standing there in confusion and a little turned on if you were honest. He shoved open the door and exited the classroom and before you could think it through you were following hot on his heels. You caught up to him in the corridor as he was unlocking his office door. He spotted you in his peripheral vision.
“My office hours are on Wednesday.” He pushed open the door. “If you need something you can come…”
He trailed off when you pushed past him, entering his office ahead of him. He frowned and followed you inside, closing and locking the door behind him. 
“What?” He sighed, taking off his bag and dropping it in the chair next to the door. “You asked me to leave the club that night and I did. I gave you my number, I left the ball in your court and you didn’t call and that’s fine. I walked away! So why are you pursuing me?” 
“I won’t give it up.” You blurted out, causing a heavy frown to form on Spencer’s face.
“Give up what?” Had he missed a part of the conversation?
“The club, I love my job.”
“I know you do.” His frown deepened. “Why would you have to give it up?”
“Do you know how many men I meet that think I’m some kind of damsel in distress that needs saving? They swoop in, on their fucking white horse and think they can rescue the poor, broken stripper.”
“Exotic dancer.” Spencer corrected you with a smirk. You huffed somewhat childishly. 
“Whatever. They think they can change me. Men always think I’m some kind of fucking damsel in distress that needs saving from the big bad world of strip…exotic dancing. That’s why I don’t date customers, not because it's not allowed. I’ve made the mistake before and it always ends the same. So stop looking at me like you want to fuck me, because its never going to happen!” 
Spencer simply looked at you curiously while you ranted, voice getting louder with each syllable. Confusingly he was smiling when you finished.
“Can I speak now?” He had a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“If you have to.” You rolled your eyes. 
Spencer took a few steps away from the door and you felt yourself growing weaker the closer he got to you. He was magnetic, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m certain I never once said that I have any kind of issue with your profession and I certainly never asked you to quit. Am I right?” 
“Y-yes.” You swallowed, catching the scent of his cologne. 
“If you’ve found something you love I would never dream of keeping you from that. Honestly, I admire you. It takes a lot of bravery and a lot of confidence to do what you do and god…you do it so well. Why would I ever want to take that from you?” He was so close now and you were begging him to touch you even though it was a bad idea.
“I…I don’t know.” 
“Yes, princess, you do.” He smirked. “You made an assumption about me, the same way I admittedly did when I first met you. But I was wrong and I acknowledged that. It’s only fair for you to do the same.” 
He raised his hand and your legs shook before he even touched you, at the sheer anticipation of it. It came up to cup your jaw, firmly enough that you could feel his fingers squeezing your jawbone. 
“Y-you don’t want to change me?” You whimpered.
“Why mess with perfection?” He bowed his head, his lips so close to yours you could feel the heat radiating off of them. “I’m no knight in shining armour, Y/N, I’m not rushing in to try and save you. And you are most certainly not a damsel in distress. You are a strong, independent woman and I would be lucky to merely exist in your orbit.” 
You mewled, trying to move closer to him, to crash your lips against his but he held you firmly in place, chuckling at your eagerness. For the first time in a long time you felt all your bravado melt away, all the confidence you had on stage at the Blue Siren was washed away, leaving you a trembling mess in front of this man. And normally that kind of vulnerability would cause you to run for the hills. But being vulnerable with Spencer didn’t seem all that bad.
“Can you,” you swallowed, eyes glued on those pouty lips of his. “Please…just kiss me already, stud.” 
Spencer laughed and for a moment you thought he might not comply. But then he closed the small space between you and you finally got to feel those pillowy lips pressing against yours. He gripped the back of your neck firmly, keeping you in place, as if you would go anywhere. 
Maybe one day Spencer would thank Morgan and Luke for the birthday present, this was one he’d surely cherish, as long as you would let him. 
Oh, isn't this exactly where you'd like me?
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know.
Praying for love and a lap dance,
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SR x reader
@dreatine @dr-spencerr-reidd @spenxerslut @drayshadow @rainsong01 @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @spencer-reid-wonderland @im-totally-not-dezi @hotchandspencearedilfs
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lover-i-lover · 8 months
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Spencer's magic bag
Oh, Spencer's magic messenger bag. He has almost anything in that bag. Why don't we look at some times that bag has saved you and made everything better.
1.
Your case had gone late into the night and early morning, you were bagging on getting some sleep on the plane back, but the jet's blinds are broken. Leaving the sunshine state in the early morning, does not grant you the grace you were hoping for. You drop yourself down in the darker part of the plane, but the sun is still a big pain in the ass. Somehow Spencer is fine, he's not tired, hungry or anything and it makes you so mad. It shouldn't but you're fucking cranky, and sadly you know it. You hold an arm over your eyes as the sucky sun shines through the plane. You're really wishing you haven't forgotten your sunglasses in your suitcase. You give a slight groan and hear Spencer chuckle. You drop your arm and slump back in your seat, making room for Spencer to sit beside you. You lean your head into the crook of his neck. Spencer sets his messenger bag by his legs and throws an am around your shoulder. "What's wrong?" he questions, letting your head rest for the first time in hours.
"Nothing..." You sigh, knowing even if you decide to tell him there's not much he can do to help. Spencer needs his sunglasses, and if he does have painkillers it's probably the kind you need to have with food. "Something is clearly wrong, I'd like to help" He squeezes your shoulder and you snuggle op to him, bringing your legs op on his legs. "There's nothing to do Spence, but thank you" You say, hoping you'd be allowed to cuddle op to him even though the team is around. Spencer grumbles something to the affect of Yes but still, love you, I'm here. You nod slightly, still warm from the burning sun. A few minutes pass with you snuggled op to him. Suddenly, Spencer goes to pull you off and you almost whine. You know Spencer isn't big on PDA, but you were hoping that Spencer would grant you the grace the sun was denying you, though you haven't said it you expected him to notice.
"Something's hurting you" He states questioningly, gently tilting your head back onto the seat. You sigh, that didn't take long. "It's just a headache, the sun isn't helping" You half groan, shifting to lay against the one stretch of wall without a window. Spencer gives a sad smile, glad he was right, yet sad he was right because of course he doesn't like to see you hurt. You watch as he grabs his bag and brings it into his lap, that fucking confused you. He keeps books and case files in that thing, what's he looking for. You close your eyes. Tired and hot. Suddenly something is slipped onto your face, your eyes fly open in surprise. Sunglasses. You look to the top of Spencer's head, his own sunglasses set neatly behind his ears. "You just, have an extra pair of sunglasses?" you ask, as he brings you back into a snuggle. "Of course i do" He confesses, pressing a short, sticky kiss to your forehead. You smile, reminding yourself that you need to write a thank you letter to Diana for raising some a smart, sweet, and considerate son. "Thanks Spence" You mutter. Spencer smiles, pulling his own sunglasses down over his eyes, ready to fall asleep next to you. He shuffles close, leaning his head atop yours. You give a small happy hum, and let yourself sleep for the first time in two days.
2.
You've had a bad day. That's what you tell Spencer as you get in the elevator with him, your arms crossed over your chest, heavy bag slung over your shoulder. Your stomach grumbles and you're reminded that you've not had your usual lunch with Spencer because you've had an enormous amount of paperwork and just did not have the time. "Ahh. Thank you Baby" You whine as he slips the bag off your shoulder. Spencer chuckles and hikes the bag op on his own shoulder. You swear that man has no limit to what he can hold on his shoulders. He could carry 20 bags on one shoulder and not even get winded. You lean on his non bag shoulder and he sets an arm around you. You lay a hand on your stomach, hoping to quiet it. Spencer spares your stomach a glance and your face heats op in embarrassment. You definitely want your stomach to shut op now, and you're kinda regretting letting Spencer take your bag.
"Is something wrong?" He asks, rubbing your side lightly. The question seems odd to you. Is something wrong?, not what is wrong? Normally Spencer would already know something is wrong, or he'd wait to see if you give any more clues. Something must seem very wrong to him, if not he wouldn't be asking. "I'm hungry, starving actually" You confess, hoping that he would take pity on you and get you a snack at some local corner store. "Ha" he sighs, petting your side before letting og of you. You whine and sigh at the same time, whining for him to keep being a pillow and sigh because he won't hold you. "Just a minute Princess" He opens his own bag, digging around for something. For a second you hope he's got a snack, before remembering that he doesn't keep food with his books because some are first edition that he can't risk getting dirty.
You sigh again, and resign yourself to hunger until you get home. But hopefully just until you hit the street and find a store. Spencer nudges you. "Here" he says, and you open your eyes to find Spencer handing you a tapper wear box, layered in two plastic bags. "What is it?" You asks, undoing the plastic. "An extra lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, crackers, half an apple, half a pear, and a box of apple juice. I always have one" He says, taking the plastic bags from you. Your stomach rolls in happiness as you lean op to kiss him. "You are magic!" you swear and open the lunch. You stuff the de-cored apple in your mouth and chew, then the de-cored pear. You sigh happly as the food settles in your stomach. "How does it not go bad?" you ask, starting to pick op the crackers. "I make the extra one and if someone doesn't need it. Then i eat it the next day and make a new extra" Spencer says, setting an arm around you. The elevator door opens and you two step out as you munch on his food. You remind yourself yet again, to write that damn thank you letter to Diana. Maybe it's better if you go see her actually. It's been a while since you two went to see her.
3.
The jet had just taken off when you realised. Well, more remembered. It was suspose to be a fun surprise for Reid later, but you got a not so fun susprise. It would just have been unpleasant timing. Had you been wearing underwear. So that's how you find yourself crying in the bathroom. You're wearing a skirt with no underwear and you just got your period. You don't wanna move off the toilet but you can't stay in the bathroom for ever. It's a 2 hour flight. What are you gonna do? had you packed underwear just in case? oh god you don't remember. You grab your phone off the sink. Which one of the girls might have underwear in your size? Emily? Would she even have an extra pair? Would any of them? You about to text JJ, hoping her mom instincts might mean she'd have an extra pair, when you get a text from Spencer.
I know something is wrong, please tell me what so i can help you
You sigh. God damn you've been in for too long. You grab some paper and dry your tears. You love that man. So, so much. You'd die for that man right now. You switch to your chat tread with your boyfriend.
I'm having some femmine issues, would you mind checking my bag for underwear and a pad?
You find yourself blushing a bit, it's not something you like discussing with Spencer. It's not that he doesn't understand. He's actaully a bit too understanding sometimes. Letting you take out your frustration on him when you don't know what else to do and letting you cry on his shoulder when you've realized what you've said. There's a knock on the door and you gather yourself before answering it. Spencer slips you a small bag you don't recognize. You take it and shut and lock the door. You sit back down and open the bag. You could hug that man to death right now. A few months ago, you'd caught Spencer looking through your underwear drawer. He insistsed that he wasn't looking to take anything, and he didn't. You laughed about, if he wasn't gonna take anything then way was he looking? You have your answer now. The bag has a pair of black boy short and 4 pads. Is it kinda weird that he brought you underwear and somehow has it on him exactly when you need it. Maybe, do you care right now? Fuck no.
You fix yourself, making sure there would be no evidence of your little accident. You stick your head out from the bathroom and motion for Reid. Spencer quietly comes to you. No one bothering to look at you two. You pull him inside the bathroom. He looks both suprised and a little scared. You lock the door behind him. "Do they not fit?" He asks. "No, they fit fine. But my god, i could just-" You grab his face and kiss him feverishly. He doesn't quite give you the response you hoped for, only kissing you gently. He places his hands on your waist, gently pulling away from you. "I'm sorry, we're on the clock" You mumble, petting his cheek. "But thank you so much" you murmur, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before you send him out ahead of you. You gather yourself for a moment before walking back out.
You sit down next to Spencer, throwing your legs over his, snuggling op to him quickly. "Better?" He asks. You nod. "Thank you" You whispser, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Anytime" spencer smiles slightly.
4.
You lay down on the couch on the jet. Feeling so tired and small. You just wanna go home. While the team knows you're a little so you don't have to hide or try to stay big. JJ was the first to notice and give you a blanket to snuggle with. It was a hard case, really hard case, a mother and a son killing the son's father figures before killing killing his actual dad. Spencer's sitting with your head in his lap, petting your hair. You wish you were home with Spencer, home with your daddy and stuffies and little gear. You glance op to Spencer, blinking a bit. He glances down to you. "You okay baby?" Spencer asks, setting his book aside to give you all his attention. You bite your bottom lip, toying with your thumb as well, hoping for permission to suck your thumb.
Spencer tilits his head in confusion. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asks, petting your hair gently. "Daddy..." You mumble, not wanting the others to hear. "Daddy's here" He whispers back to you. You pout, snuggling closer, blinkinng at him uselessly. You shuffle around a bit, bitting harder at your lip, hoping he'd cach your hints too. "Oh, baby don't hurt yourself" Spencer says, petting you cheek. You whine and Spencer grabs his bag and looks through it. You sigh lowly, why's he ignoring you? Suddenly Spencer's slipped a pacifier into your mouth, you huff in surprise. "Better?" He asks. You nod happily, sucking on the pacifier. "Good, need anyting else?" Spencer asks gently, petting you hair and face. You mumble through the pacifier, hoping he'd understand you. "Stuffie? You have stuffie?"
Spencer reaches into his bag again, pulling out a small stuffie, before tucking it close to your chest. "There you go little one" Spencer coo's lowly, continuing to pet your hair. You snuggle close to him, happy to have some comfort. You didn't even know Spencer brought a pacifier with him in his bag, but you're not complaining. You're very happy. "Okay, just get some sleep little one" Spencer coo's, gently petting your back, you relax at his touch, feeling asleep quickly.
You are woken op by the jet landing and Spencer gently rousing you. You hum, still sleepy. "What?" You ask, blinking a few times to really open your eyes. Spencer's helping you to your feet, arm around your waist. You pout when you realize you no longer have your pacifier. Spencer gently coaxes you op and fixes your clothes. You whine lightly, looking around for your pacifier. He slips it back in your mouth and you smile sleeply. "Come on Baby, Emily's taking us home" Spencer says, guiding you down from the plane stairs. "Cold" You mumble, shivering. "I know baby it's okay" He reasures you as the two of you get in the back of Emily's SUV. Spencer gently buckles you in and lays his jacket over you. "Thank you daddy" You mumble without thought. Spencer blushes and you can hear Emily laughing lightly. But only barely, you're too tired to care. You lean close to Spencer, snuggling close.
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mxauthor · 7 months
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Creativity
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Summary: Y/n is a photographer and Spencer is a great model.
Word Count: 1,135
Warnings: fluff, kisses, probably false statistics, giggly spence at the end.
November 4th. 
That was the deadline of when Y/n’s assignment was due. 
That date was one week away and she had no idea what the hell she was going to do. The whole class was given three weeks to complete the assignment and Y/n was running out of time. 
She’s an aspiring photographer.
Several of her works have been published in magazines and have won many contests. She even has a website dedicated to her photos as well as other young photographers wanting to pursue their passions. 
However, most of her clients don’t want an amatrue to take any of their photos, hence the course. Even though her boyfriend, Spence, has rattled off statics about not needing classes to become a photographer; it still made her feel better: more official
But now, her photography course is requiring her to submit new artwork instead of some of her old pieces. The professor said he ‘wanted to put their learning to use and catch something they’ve never thought of before.’ 
Y/n hated it. She was hitting deadend after deadend. Everything she’s shot is within her comfort zone, not new. 
With a loud groan Y/n threw her head back on the couch she was perched on. Spencer only rounded the end the moment she was looking up at their light tan ceiling. 
“Still can’t find anything?” Spencer asked. His tone knowing the answer, but wanting to be caring still. 
“Not a thing.” Y/n replied, enunciating every word in the sentence. Spencer looked at her with a sympathetic look. Knowing the frustration not being able to achieve something. 
He thought about the requirements of the assignment, having told him once she first got it. Spence wanted to help, he really did, but it was the first time he’s drawn a blank. 
“I have no clue what to do. All the photos I’ve taken are like the ones I’ve taken before.” Y/n raised her head and looked at her boyfriend of a year. “Nothing new, nothing that’s caught my eye.” 
“You know statically, most photographers set up their master photos. All of them have been staged and made to look candid. A lot of the photographs that I’ve studied since you’ve started your classes I’ve noticed that a lot of the items seemed to be perfectly placed. Just like it was made to be a photoshoot of some sort. While a lot of your works are within the moment, scenery or candid of people.” Spencer rambled. Y/n watched him intently as he talked, never liking to cut him off once he started, “So I believe that your professor is asking you to do something of the sort, to make a piece that you have to stage. I would suggest using someone that you are comfortable with, which will trigger a higher dopamine output as well as a higher serotonin that allows cognitive flexibility and an increase in mood.” 
Y/n looked at Spence. A sparkle within her eye that Spencer knew to be trouble. 
“Comfortable, staged and someone I know.” Y/n summarized, Spencer nodded along enthusiastically, always touched when someone listened to him all the way through. 
“Yep.” 
“Well then, pretty boy, I just found my client.” Y/n said, her eyes sparking with, what Spence can only describe as creativity. And lust. 
The nickname alone should’ve told him that he wasn’t going to like this idea nor was he going to be the most comfortable with it. However, when Y/n had jumped up from her seat and started to set up her equipment with a huge smile on her face, Spence couldn’t really say no. 
Y/n had placed one of their kitchen chairs in the living room (after she moved everything out of the way). Claiming that it was perfect. Her lights and camera were setup to where he supposed was his place in all of this. 
He watched with a little nervousness as he stood in a white button down and some black pants. He was demanded asked to change from his comfortable warm pajamas, into this more serious ‘photo worthy’ outfit. 
“Okay now, I need you to sit in the chair and I’ll be right back.” Y/n commanded, her voice left no place to argue.
So Spencer sat down. Patting his legs while he waited for the final piece of this photoshoot.
About 2 minutes had gone by before Y/n walked out, red lipstick painted on her lips. As well as a tub in her hand. If he looked close enough, he could see kiss marks on her hands, some more faint and one very vibrant. 
Spencer studied the way Y/n walked up to him. Almost like she was trying to seduce in a way. As she got closer, Spence could see a smirk playing on her lips. 
“What are you-” Before the genius could actually ask his question, Y/n had kissed him. 
His brain short circuited. His IQ is now at 60. 
It took a second before he kissed back, before it could get more heated Y/n pulled back. She studied the lipstick print on her boyfriend, liking how well it was placed. 
Spencer’s face had flushed, he stared at her surprised, trying to understand what’s happening. 
Before he could ask Y/n started talking, “The assignment is to do something new. To try and incorporate all of the lessons we’ve learned up into now. As you’ve said all of my past works were either scenery or candid photos. Something that has just happened or there for anyone to see. What I’m doing here is different. This is a photoshoot, not candid. You are normally sophisticated and well cleaned, however at this moment your unshaven and floppy hair. As well as dressed in something more date-casual.” 
Spencer tried computing everything that was said, only to realize what she meant. His flush grew a little as Y/n looked at him for a silent ask, him nodding his answer. 
She started to unbutton the top four buttons of his shirt. Spence started to grow even redder as Y/n started to kiss all over his neck, face and chest. 
He felt like he couldn’t breathe, all this attention and kisses making him hot.
But one thing is that he couldn’t stop smiling. Neither of them could. Y/n’s kisses varied in shape and size, trying hard to control the smiles on her face. Spencer giggled and flushed until she stopped. 
Y/n looked at the lipstick marks with a proud smile and a flush of her own. Giddy to take the pictures. 
“Okay hold still.” Y/n commanded, trying to capture him flush and giddy. 
Trying to catch her Spencer, the goof ball that’s in love with her, in a living memory.
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cumulo-stratus · 3 months
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This man has the most puppy dog eyes I have ever seen
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zombiefiilm · 3 months
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It’s Cold Out Here
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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summary: spencer reid has just the plan to keep you warm in the car while you wait for a suspect
warnings: some mentioned with the unsub, classic cm type violence mentioned, no use of y/n, nsfw - 18+ only, making out, car sex(ish?), fingering, handjob, male oral, getting interrupted
word count: 2.1k
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When you agreed to wait outside the suspected unsub's house with Spencer Reid, you did not expect it to turn into a several-hour stakeout.
You had pulled up just around the corner from the old house that looked like it was rotting from the inside out, with a perfect view of the front porch from where your black car sat, expecting the man who lived inside to leave the house to find his next victim and allow you to follow him.
His victims were all over the place, young and old, men and women, various financial status'. It just hadn't made any sense from the start and there was barely any bones to the profile at all, the only thing you all knew was that he was a man, likely between the ages of 30 and 45, who had a comprehensive knowledge of the human body and that he was somehow able to take his victims from public places in broad daylight. There didn't seem to be any sexual behaviour in these killings, the unsub killing each victim with a single gunshot to the head and cleanly taking out a different organ from each victim.
The only reason you even had a suspect in the first place was two witnesses stating that they had seen a blue Volvo Sedan that seemed to have driven off in a hurry from the locations the victims were being taken from at a similar time. Thankfully, one of the witness statements had included a partial plate, which Garcia was easily able to track down.
Prentiss and Reid had knocked on the front door earlier in the day, hoping to talk to the unsub with the premiss of him being a witness, but to no avail, the door never opened and with every curtain drawn, they had no visual of inside the home either.
Eventually, the plan had become to wait out the unsub, to follow him and pounce once there was any sign of suspicious behaviour, but it was taking significantly longer than expected.
Since the BAU had landed in Missouri, the unsub hadn't made a single move. While it was fortunate that there had been no more victims, it made it quite hard for you to get closer to finding out who he was. Through his patterns though, you were hoping that tonight would be the time for him to find his next victim.
You had gotten to your spot at around 4pm, Spencer driving and you in the passenger seat, and the blue car was still parked in the driveway. You set yourself up, expecting to be waiting for 4 or 5 hours maximum, but as the clock hit 11pm, alongside the command of staying at your 'stakeout' spot until someone walked out of that front door, you knew you were going to be in for the long haul.
Armed with a box of ritz crackers and beef jerky, you both indulged in the most depressing meal you had in a while.
"One of us should try get some sleep and the other can stay awake and watch, just so we're not both out of our minds tired tomorrow" you told Spencer, wrapping your jacket tightly around yourself, attempting to battle the cold air in the car.
"You can sleep first, I want to read through the files again, see if we've missed anything" he brushed a stray hair out of his face as he reached around to the back seat and grabbed one of the thick folders.
"Alright" you replied, tilting your seat back as far as it could go and wrapping your arms around yourself. "Wake me up in an hour".
"Got it"
"Night Reid" you closed your eyes, desperate to get some rest.
"Night".
You weren't sure how long you had been asleep, but you woke yourself up with your own shivering. The car had somehow gotten even colder in the time you were out. You groggily rubbed your eyes, turning around to see Reid engrossed by what he was reading.
"How long was I asleep?" you sat up, still shivering.
Spencer looked over at you, and then down at his watch. "About two hours".
"I told you to wake me up" you hit his shoulder, "you need to sleep too".
"I'm fine, plus you've been complaining about not sleeping well since we got here, you needed it"
You smiled at him, a little giddy over the fact that he was showing how much he cared about you.
You sat up fully now, taking another folder from the back of the car and opening it up. You knew you wouldn't be able to get back to sleep and there was no point in trying.
As time passed, you hadn't even noticed that your teeth had started clattering with the cold.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, putting down the papers in front of him. "You've been shivering for a while".
"Yeah, just really cold" you answered simply, glancing up at the house again to see nothing had changed.
"You can have my jacket" he quickly shrugged it off "I run hot".
"Are you sure? I don't want you to be cold either"
Without answering, he just leant over the centre console, and wrapped his jacket around your shoulders but stopped when his face was right in front of yours.
It felt like an eternity where you both looked into each other's eyes without a single word. Right as he went to sit back in his seat though, you grabbed his arm to stop him. You weren't even sure what your plan was but you just knew you wanted him to stay that close.
Neither of you were unfamiliar with looking at each other like that. with longing looks across the office and always sitting across from each other on the jet, it was quite clear to everyone on the team that you both felt like more that coworkers.
"I do know another way to warm you up" he gave you a bashful smile, looking anywhere but your face.
"And what's that?" you whispered, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.
He briefly looked into your eyes, and then down to your lips. You took that as your sign to lean in, gently pressing your lips to his. He almost seemed taken aback, but he quickly kissed you back, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue into your mouth.
The kiss was gentle, warming, as his hand slowly trailed from your knee up to your inner thigh. You wouldn't have expected him to be this forward, but before you knew it, his large hand was resting right over your heat, through your jeans.
He broke away from the kiss, both of you panting lightly "Is this okay?" his question was genuine as he waited for your okay before doing anything.
"Yes Spencer, please, please touch me" you hadn't expected yourself to be so desperate but the thought of his slender hands down your pants had you squirming in your seat.
The smirk that planted on his face at your desperation would be stuck in your head forever. He quickly unbuttoned your jeans and helped you tug them down to your mid thigh, quickly followed by your underwear.
The moment he saw your cunt, he practically moaned to himself, making quick moves to touch you. His fingers slowly gathered up the slick from your slit before his finger gently caught on your clit, making you jolt.
"God, you're so wet already" he whispered to himself, lifting his finger up to the light to get a good look at your juice on him. He moved his hand back down again, this time gently circling your clit.
His movements had you falling into him already, long forgetting about the freezing temperature of the car, your head resting on his shoulder as his finger travelled down to your hole.
He slowly slid his finger inside and you gasped quietly, the way you were already clenching around the single digit had Spencer rutting into the console he was leaning over.
Pumping in and out of you, he quickly added a second finger. You couldn't help but moan in his ear, your attempts to keep quiet waning as he began to curl his fingers, hitting your g-spot right on.
"H- holy shit Spence" you whined, as his fingers perfectly moved against your spongey walls. With your verbal reassurance spurring him on to please you more, he began to circle your clit with his thumb, in time with his quickening thrusts of his fingers.
All of his moves seemed thought out and calculated, like he was studying every single one of your reactions. He pressed his lips against yours once again, his tongue licking into your slack mouth in time with the movements of his hands.
It only took a few minutes before you were a mess, gentle whimpers slipping from your lips, your hips desperately jerking against his hand, desperate for your release, your hands gripping onto his forearms for stability.
As soon as he added a third finger, you knew you were done for. You squirmed in his hold as his fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your cunt filling the humid car as the coil in your stomach tightened.
"God- Fuck Spence, please, I'm gonna"
"Go on, cum for me, please" he groaned, his thumb circled faster around your clit as he pressed his own hips harder against the car, desperate for some form of release.
It was as if your body obeyed his words, seeing white as the pressure in your stomach released.
Your hips jerked into his hand as you came down from the high, Spencer's fingers still pumping in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm.
Once you finally came down, you feverishly kissed Spencer, desperate to taste him again. You whined into his mouth as he pulled his fingers out of you, quickly missing the feeling of being so full.
As you separated again, Spencer placed his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on his fingers. Once you licked his fingers clean, he pulled his hand back and kissed you again.
"God, you taste so good" he muttered, sloppily kissing you. It was then you noticed his shifting, desperate for stimulation on his cock.
"Let me help you now" you pushed him back into his seat, palming the crotch of his trousers.
He looked up at the door of your potential unsub, ensuring that he was still inside the house before giving you a nod. You desperately unzipped his trousers, pulling them down just far enough for you to pull out his cock.
You quickly pulled his erection out of his boxers, practically drooling at the sight. God.
The tip was red, precum smeared all over his tip, and it was big in every way.
You eagerly wrapped your hand around him, allowing a glob of your saliva to fall onto his tip before you pumped your hand up and down in small movements. You periodically swiped your thumb over his tip, spreading the pearly white liquid around.
Spencer was gripping onto the car door at your movements, his knuckles white as he desperately attempted to stop himself from bucking his hips into your hands.
Then, you decided you desperately needed to taste him. You leaned down, gently taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.
Spencer, in that moment, thought he had died and gone to heaven. He couldn't stop the moans from spilling out from his mouth.
Then, you took pushed your head down as far as you could, tickling the back of your throat as the hair at the base of his cock just-about brushed against your nose. Spencer was on the verge of biting through the skin of his lips to stop himself from fucking your face.
You moved your head back up before taking him entirely in your mouth again, but then Spencer tapped your shoulder and began to lift you off of him.
"The door, the door" his words stopped you in your tracks as he rubbed some of the condensation off of the windscreen in front of him. You got off of him, straightening yourself up in your own seat and pulling up your pants as he tucked himself back into his own trousers.
"I'll get you back" you half whispered as he started the car "later".
You could see him blush lightly as he started to follow behind the unsub. Maybe getting stuck in a car with Reid for 10 hours wasn't such a bad thing.
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multific · 8 months
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Changed Man
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Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After an appointment with your therapist, you want to speak with Spencer.
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"And how's life with your husband, Y/N?" you let out a long sigh before you looked at your therapist.
"I have noticed a lot of changes in him. I honestly thought that this talk about how jail changes people were fake, but I’m afraid it's true." you let out a long sigh.
"What about him did change? Did you notice anything specific?" you were more than comfortable talking about this with her.
"At first, I didn't even notice. It is hard to explain but I noticed it when we were having sex the other day. He was more dominant."
"Did he hurt you? Or do something you didn't like perhaps?"
"Nothing like that! It just struck me, he used to be almost nervous every time, but now he was so confident. I liked it, I just don't know what to do with it."
"Did you mention it to him?"
"No. I was afraid he would call me paranoid."
"Then why don't you just have a sit-down with him? Try to tell him about your side of things, he is a smart man, I'm sure he will understand." 
"Yeah, I’ll try that. Thank you." you offered her a smile and just as the session ended, you were on your way home.
---
"Hi Babe." you said into the house as you locked the front door.
"Hi." came the voice from inside, you soon entered the living room and found Spencer reading.
You headed over to him and placed a kiss to his cheek, he offered you a smile.
"How was your day?" he asked.
"Busy. Very busy."
"That's what you get for being a CEO I suppose. Did you eat already?"
"No, did you?"
"Nope, let's order then." you heard as he called and ordered some pizza while you took a quick shower.
You let out a long sigh as you finally put up your feet and eat something.
After eating, you felt pain as you groaned a little as you started to rub your neck.
"Do you want a massage?"
"No, no I'm good Spencer, thank you."
"It's okay really." he tried to get closer to you but you jump up from the couch. "What's wrong?" you basically heard his heart break as he asked and looked at you.
But to be honest, you weren't too sure either. 
"Everything? No, not everything... it's just, I have to figure this thing out and I'm... I don't know."
"What are you saying Y/N?" 
"I'm scared Spencer."
"Of me?" he asked, surprised and hurt.
"No! Not of you." you were quick to reply.
"Then what is it Y/N?" he started to raise his voice out of frustration. "Do you not want to be married to a criminal anymore? Is that why you visited me so often in jail? To justify your thoughts of wanting to leave me out of shame?"
"I'm scared that you changed and you won't want me anymore!" as you said that your hands started to shake. All the past months came crashing down on you. "I'm scared you will realize you don't love me anymore, I'm scared that you will find someone better. I'm terrified that you will leave me." as you said that, all of your tears began to fall. 
"Sweetheart," he hugged you and calmed you before he began to speak. "I will never leave you. I love you much." when he pulled back he could see you searching his eyes, trying to figure out on your own if he was lying or not.
"Promise?"
"I married you for a reason. I have loved you and I will continue to do so."
"Please don't quote some philosopher who said something about love. Just kiss me and never leave me."
And he did.
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." he whispered as he put his forehead against yours.
"You have nothing to apologise for. You went through something terrible, I should be more understanding, but my insecurities got the best of me."
"It's okay. I'm just happy we are here together. I love you."
"I love you too." you put your hand on his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
Letting your insecurities wash away.
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The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (18+)
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Summary: Spencer and Reader's schedules mean too many lonely nights and near misses. One bad day makes Reader realize just how much she misses and loves her boyfriend
CW: Spencer Reid x Fem (Doctor!)Reader (SMUT: Penetrative sex with condom, talk about birth control, kissing, fingering, tiny breeding kink)
Note: Ahhh I absolutely hate the title but whatevs. Also I know I fucked up the tenses. Let’s pretend grammar rules do not exist. I am no Emily Henry…..
Word Count: 3100
The worst day is always the worst day until, of course, another worse day comes along. Bad days, I’ve come to understand, are a lot like dominos. They fall one after another until the entire thing comes crumbling down. This week, the Monday domino came in the form of reports filed incorrectly. And the Tuesday and Wednesday dominos came in the form of an antsy four-year old that vomits violently and an elderly man with ‘bumps and lumps’ littered over his hairy back. At this point, I have to convince myself that I actually like the kind of doctor I am. But in reality, I’m totally jealous of my boyfriend’s more glamorous doctor honorifics.
As I walked up the staircase to our shared apartment, I’m reminded of a book I read as a kid. I would need at least two or three more hands to count how many times I’ve read Alexander and The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. I suppose that my younger self found some sort of comfort in the humor. I reached around in my backpack, searching for my house keys.
The apartment was silent. It’s that weird sort of time. It’s early enough, by his job’s standards, for Spencer to still be working. But it was also late enough for me to walk into the small bedroom and find Spencer passed out from lack of sleep.
“Hello,” I called. I kicked off my shoes, plopped my backpack on the floor and shed my coat. No one responds to me, making me think that Spencer’s still working.
Millions of thoughts ran through my mind. I thought about the unwashed laundry piling up in the basket. I thought about the yogurt in the refrigerator that’s well past its expiry date. And I thought about the last time I fell asleep in bed with Spencer by my side. We both knew this day would come. But, it seems, this day turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months. I would call him, tell him just how much I miss him, but I’m just too tired.
I hardly even remember how I got into the bedroom. It was like I was in the hallway, staring at the smiling, happy faces of Spencer and me in picture frames and now poof! I’m in the bedroom. The bed was unmade and messy. Books were practically oozing from the sides, battered copies of mass market paperbacks, ornate and decorative copies of books we’ve wasted half our paychecks on. I usually don’t like the mess and disorganization, but I was too tired to even care. Or I just found it utterly charming that this mess is a product of the person I love the most in the world.
I tried to focus on that. On how many books we haven’t read together. On all the lazy Sundays we’d spend snoozing in bed way past a respectable hour. On him coming home soon and slipping into bed and holding me close as we both finally…
***
“Y/N!”
The first thing I realized, even before I opened my eyes, is that I was wet. The second thing I realize me is that Spencer is yelling.
I opened my eyes, finally taking in my surroundings. I’m in the shower? After the shock of being awoken, I realized that I must have fallen asleep in the shower. My clothes are soaked and Spencer’s crouched down next to me.
“Spence,” I croaked. My voice is ladened with sleep, “Your socks are going to get wet. You’re going to get wet,”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” he said. He sounded a little annoyed, but maybe it’s more like bemusement. I’m too tired to decipher the tone of his voice right now, “God, I thought something bad happened to you. I need to check out your head, I want to make sure you didn’t fall,”
“I’m fine, I’m fine, Spencer,” I said, sitting up in the shower. He rolled his eyes, sitting up to get a better look at my head.
“Shh. Let me check you. I am a doctor, after all,” he said, a playful, yet tired smile toying at the corner of his mouth. I had to fight the sleepy urge to kiss all over his stupidly handsome face.
“You’re a fake doctor,” I muttered.
“Oh, hush,” Spencer chastised. He studied my head, finding nothing, he kisses me, “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes,”
Spencer helped me up and I pulled off my soaked shirt and damp jeans. I tossed them towards the Laundry Pile of Doom. We moved quietly, like one symbiotic machine moving together to the same goal. I’ve learned to appreciate the silence with Spencer. We’ve learned how to say a wordless I love yous and silent I’m here for yous.
“Let’s get to bed,” Spencer said. He held out a pair of pajama pants and a soft tee-shirt. I nodded, wordlessly thanking Spencer. I follow him into the bedroom, already playing the dreams in my head.
“I’ve missed you,” I told him, helping him make the messy bed before we crawl in. Since we’ve been together, Spencer’s learned that it’s impossible for me to sleep soundly in an unmade bed. I hate the feeling of the crinkled sheets under my legs, “Even though we saw each other yesterday,”
“I know,” Spencer whispered. He sits on the bed, watching me. I smile and scoot closer to him, “Are you going to tell me why I found you sleeping in the shower?”
“Spence,” I groaned. “I just had a really crappy day. I had to change five times today. There’s this kid, a literal demon-child, that has this awful case of food poisoning. I showered at the hospital before I got home, but I just thought a hot shower would relax my muscles or something. I don’t know. I guess I was just exhausted,”
“I’m sorry, baby,” Spencer said. He kissed my cheek chastely. I can get carried away very easily with Spencer, especially when we’re both drunk from lack of sleep, “That sounds really bad,”
“Oh god. Oh god,” I cringed. I plant my hands into my face in embarrassment, “I am so selfish. Spencer, how-? I’m such a selfish idiot,” I groaned.
Spencer’s face floods with confusion, “No, no you’re not. What are you talking-”
“Me! Spencer! Me, I’ve been complaining about getting puked on by a sick child and you’re out there….you’re out there almost dying. And I’m just. I’m just an idiot,” I lamented. I leaned over and kiss Spencer on his cheek, “I’m just an idiot. And you’re freaking hero,”
“You’re not an idiot, Y/N. You’re a doctor. I’m a fake doctor,” he teased. Spencer smiles, kissing my cheeks as my smile grows. Spencer’s laughter is contagious. It rattled across the room in a sound that’s pure joy. I wish I could bottle it up and keep it forever and ever.
“You’re a really hot fake doctor,” I whispered. I let him kiss all over my face and encouraged him with a tug of his hair as he leads down my neck, “Spencer,”
He answered me with a groan. I flipped the blankets off me and hook my legs around Spencer’s torso. I felt his body flush against mine, so I can feel everything. I can feel all the soft parts of him and especially the hard parts. His body fit perfectly against mine. Spencer deepened the kiss, pulling me in by my jaw. Hungry, Spencer whimpered into the kiss. I traveled my hands under his shirt, feeling the heat on his skin.
It’s like I could feel the room spin. My heart swelled inside my chest and it’s almost too much to bear. Spencer’s hands were eager as he touched me. It’s hard to remember that there was a time, not too long ago, that his touches were marked by trepidation. His touches are lazy, uncoordinated, but they are exactly what I want. Spencer is exactly what I want.
“I can’t get enough of you,” Spencer whispered into my ear. I felt my skin prickle at his confession, even if it’s something I know all too well already. “You’re just so…beautiful. So beautiful,”
I brushed my tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip. It’s soft and plump. He tasted like home. Kissing Spencer felt like home. I never liked when romance novels would try to convince readers that their boyfriend would taste like cinnamon or coconut, when in reality you’re lucky if he tastes like minty Listerine. But I could taste the toothpaste and Listerine on Spencer’s lips. I smelt our shared shampoo and body wash. I smelt the detergent we use to wash our clothes. I smelt him in the shirt I wear, the very shirt that he’s clawing off my body at the moment.
I could smell him, feel him, taste him all around me. And it all screams a single word with as a single syllable: home.
It’s all around me. All around us.
Home.
Spencer sighed. It’s the kind of sigh that’s full to the brim with contentment. He sighed as if he could kiss me and cradle me like this for the rest of our lives. I may be tired, but I’ll never be too tired to object to something like that.
“Hi,” I whispered. Spencer gave me this toothy grin that completely melts away my annoyance. The entire day, including the vomiting kid and the old man with the pusy back, just simply melted away.
“Hi,”
“I love you,” I told him. I stretched my neck to kiss Spencer’s forehead, “I love you so much. But I would really like you to finish what you started,”
“Patience is a virtue,” Spencer joked. “I’m going to take my time with you, sweet girl,” Spencer’s tongue flickers out from his lips. Wetting his lips, Spencer tosses his head forehead in a gesture that I’m left to assume is meant for me to take my shirt off. Usually, I would respond with some sort of snarky comment, but I’m either too tired or too eager to come up with something witty. So I, for once, oblige.
“God, I never will get tired of this,” Spencer huffed. He helped me with the shirt, tossing it on the floor, and threw his clothing with it. His hands, like magnets, cling to my chest. I hissed at the sensation of his cold hands against my warm skin. He rolled my nipple in between his thumb and index finger. I bit my lip at the feeling, I close my eyes, but not before I sneak a look at Spencer’s gleeful expression.
“Me too,”
I kisses him again, loving the feeling of his swollen lips against mine. For a moment, it’s like everything disappears. Spencer’s kisses make the world, all the bad things, melt away. I grind down in his lap, forcing our bodies to rut against each other.
“Y/N,” Spencer called out. His voice is a warning sign or a white flag being waved.
“God, please,” I cried into Spencer’s mouth. His smile burned into my jaw as he kisses downward. He left wet, sloppy kisses across my collarbone, sure to leave marks that will be well hidden under the privacy of clothes, “Spence-”
“Shhh,” Spencer hushed, “This is all about you, sweetheart. All for you,”
With a surprising amount of agility, Spencer maneuvered us so I lie on my back. He hovered above me, looking down at me like he’s gazing at something beautiful. I suppose I am beautiful, in Spencer’s mind, at least. It’s hard to feel beautiful sometimes, but when his mouth is on my mouth and his hands can’t get enough of me, it’s hard to think otherwise.
Actually, it’s hard to think at all.
Spencer slithered down to my waist. He grabbed my hand, pressing tiny kisses into my wrist. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging him up to look at me in the eyes. A grin, that I’m inclined to describe as devilish, appears on his face. He’s so pretty and beautiful and all the words that describe something so immaculate that it numbs you.
We’ve turned this, disorganized bedroom that’s littered with battered books and dirty clothes and coffee mugs to some secret oasis. It’s magical. I’ve thought that couples that believed in sparks or whatever, were insufferable. But it’s magical. Spencer’s magic. I’m magic.
We’re magic.
Spencer’s fingers are certainly magic. With a wicked grin, Spencer’s fingers dug into my thigh. He separated my legs, giving me the slightest bit of pressure and friction. I rutted my hips towards his hands, downright delirious for any kind of contact.
I studied him. I carefully studied the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the softness of his eyes. This is the man I’ve looked at, the man I’ve loved for so long. All those stolen glances, all those quick pecks and lazy hugs, all those times our fingers meet. All those touches and all the touches yet to come. I’m on fire for him, begging for his touch. I felt it build in my ribs and sear throughout my body.
“Hurry, Spence,” I chanted. His name is a sweet prayer on my lips.
Listening to me, finally, Spencer kissed me on my thighs. His tongue traveled finding exactly where I wanted him. His fingers, swift and nimble, circled across my body. I twisted my hands into his hair, cheering him on silently.
I felt a Spencer-shaped knot build in my belly. It spreads into my chest, like a white-hot wound that demands to be felt. His finger is buried inside of me, beckoning me closer and closer to the edge.
“Condom?” Spencer asked. I nodded, tossing my head to the nightstand. Frantically, I started to search, but stopped when I feel the pressure of Spencer’s hand on my arm, “I got it. Don’t worry,”
I smiled, grateful for him because at this point I hardly doubt I could see six inches in front of me, let alone into the drawer for a condom.
We’re overachievers. And over planners. Which makes us a perfect recipe for anxiety and an awful case of what’s the worst thing you can think of? game. Between my residency and Spencer’s never-ending work schedule, a baby would not be ideal. Maybe it will one day. One day when we’re not crashing into an unmade bed at 2AM after eating a tray of four day old, chilly lasagna and stale marshmallows.
“Thank you,” I whispered. Even if I know I don’t have to thank Spencer for it. He gets it. He always does.
“Of course,” he answers, struggling with the condom packet. I smiled and covered my hand over his, telling him I’m here. He handed it to me, but not before he grabbed my jaw to pull me into a kiss, “Of course, Y/N. One day, I’ll put a baby in you. One day, but for now–”
“–Practice,”
“Exactly,”
Swiftly, I ripped open the packet and help roll the condom on Spencer. He hissed at the sensation. Within seconds, I felt Spencer line himself up. And then I felt that familiar pressure and a deeply warm sensation in my belly.
I swallowed Spencer’s moan into my mouth. He smiled toothily into the kiss, clashing his teeth against my lips. The apartment, yet again, is silent for a moment. And then I heard Spencer’s guttal groan in my ear. His breath is hot against my ear, but it makes my skin chill. I clung to Spencer’s tee shirt, ready to rip it off him. He must have realized this because he sheds it, dropping it to where he tossed mine before.
“Spence–”
“I know, I know. You feel so good, Y/N. I missed this…you,” he cried out. He buried his head into my neck. Spencer’s high pitched whimper pierced in my ear as his fingers, deft and skilled, cast quick circles against my clit. That, coupled with the way he slid in and out of me, is enough to drive me crazy.
I hummed into Spencer’s hair, inhaling the smell of his shampoo– my shampoo. He’s beautiful and fragile like this, yet he’s strong and stoic. The mounting pressure grew inside of me as Spencer’s trusting became more less calculated. His fingers sped up, begging me with his motions and words to reach that edge with him, for him.
“Come on, Y/N,” he cried out, voice muffled by my neck. He kissed me softly, sweetly as we both unravel. I could grow addicted to the way he holds me close after this finishes. He kissed me, leaving no patch of skin or freckle or scar unkissed.
“God, you’re so perfect, Spencer,” I said. I brushed his hair from his forehead, licking my well-kissed lips with a smile.
He stayed inside of me still, both of us a combination of too lazy or too tired or too in love to care to move. I love it, though. I love the feeling of our bodies flush together. I love the feeling of him inside me, even when we’re still and unmoving. Eventually, we’ll separate.
Eventually.
“I really do love you, Y/N,” Spencer reminded me. He propped himself on his elbow and looks down at me.
Dimples.
I added that to the list of things I absolutely adore about Spencer Reid.
Hands. Hair. Cardigans. Smile.
“I know,” I replied with a cheeky sort of grin. “I love you more,”
“Impossible,” Spencer said. He sat up in bed, yawning. I stifled a yawn myself, even if it’s futile. I thought during it, I forgot just how tired I actually was. Now, we’re both beyond exhausted and covered in sweat and other various bodily fluids.
It’s totally sexier than it sounds.
Maybe a shower would be good. A shower with Spencer.
Like that totally won’t lead to more.
“Did you know that people who yawn after witnessing someone else yawn are shown to have a proclivity towards empathy. There’s even certain studies that suggest that yawning in front of someone displays an intense emotional connection,”
“Is that so,” I said. I tugged at Spencer’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. You’d think that I’d grow numb or tired from kissing Spencer by now, but I doubt I ever will, “Is that your way of telling me you love me most?”
“Sure is,” Spencer responded. He offered a hand, leading me to what I hope is a hot shower and a very long night’s sleep.
“You have to promise me one thing,” I ordered as I stood, “No funny business in the shower,” I smiled, losing all credibility when I fell back into his arms.
“Sure,” Spencer said, “We’re too tired to do anything anyway,”
“I’m deliciously–no, deliriously happy,” I said, kissing him on the forehead one last time. I marvel about how this day– this week, started off as horrible and terrible and no good and very bad, but is ending up quite the opposite.
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