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radiant-reid · 2 years

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THREE’S A CROWD

from THE KINK LIST

Request from @sebs-oxygen "I really need a threesome with spencer and hotchner"

Summary: Somehow you end up in bed with your boyfriend and your boss

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Content Warning: R18 (threesome, fingering, oral (m receiving by f and m), protected penetrative sex, praise kink, little bit of degrading kink, slight size kink, some action spencer x aaron activities, Dom!Aaron x Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader )

Word Count: 3.6k

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You don't really know how it happened. Like at all. One minute you're in the hotel bar, doing a few shots and playing a few rounds of Would You Rather, some scandalous comments that are less than professional, and the next minute, your boyfriend's in front of you, striding with a purpose to your hotel room while your boss follows behind you.

In your head... Well, you're trying not to get too in your head about it, so you're thinking about Penelope and how much she would flip out if she knew what you were about to get up to.

But then you're walking over the threshold, and all your brain can think about is the fact that you're about to sleep with your boyfriend and your boss, and you can't be more thrilled about it.

It's the hottest thing in the world and you're desperately trying to remember every moment. Spencer's hands are on your waist first, and his lips immediately meet yours. The kiss is more delicate than usual, especially since you know you're about to get down to business, but it's like he's trying to reassure you things are okay.

Then you feel another set of hands that have a firmer pressure resting against your hips. Aaron- as he insisted you called him- has thicker fingers than Spencer, and you can feel the difference.

It's nice to have something like that, two different styles of touch. And then, suddenly, it's two different styles of kissing when Aaron's lips find the hot skin on your neck. He's firmer as you expected and his lips aren't as chapped as Spencer's are.

Aaron steps closer to you, resting his back against your front while he sucks a linear string of marks into your neck, which are no doubt going to be a problem tomorrow. He's so close you can feel his hard length against your back, and it's easy to tell it's big.

Spencer smirks against your lips before you notice what you're doing, rolling your hips between the two of them. It still doesn't feel real to be between the two of them, but your panties are already wet and you're eager to get into things.

You trail your hand down Spencer's chest all the way to his hardening length before you untuck his dress shirt, smirking against his lips when he let out an annoyed groan. Teasing him might have been your favorite thing in the world, but this time it earnt you a squeeze on the ass from the other pair of hands on your body, clearly being watched by Aaron.

"Be nice," Aaron warns, growling in your ear before biting your earlobe. It gets you so hot that you struggle to focus on the buttons of Spencer's shirt.

"Yeah, Y/n, be nice." Spencer chimes. He places his hands on top of yours, helping you undo the buttons. "Already flustered?"

You can feel Aaron's smirk against your neck, the heat radiating off it. "Let me check." He offers, and a second later you feel his hand wrapping around your thigh and bunch up your skirt. The pad of his thumb lightly grazes your underwear where your hole is, making you squirm. "Oh, yeah." He hums, clearly proud of himself.

Spencer works off his tie in front of you, throwing it, along with his shirt, on the ground. You thought he would be more nervous considering there was lights-off sex between the two of you for a month, but you're grateful he isn't. Especially when he's so pretty.

"His turn," Spencer informs you, placing his hands on your waist and turning you around. Aaron's lips are almost immediately on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth just a second later. Oddly, he's less dominant about it than Spencer was, but you chalk it up to him not being sure what you like.

Your hands are steadier that time against his chest, unbuttoning his shirt before resting your palm against the perfect stomach of his dad-bod while he unworks his tie.

While you're most definitely feeling him up, Spencer's making quick work of your blouse. Your boobs get a strong squeeze once it's unbuttoned before his fingers trail down to your hips to unzip your skirt.

Aaron steps back to admire your body, eyes scanning every inch but it's not in a way that makes you nervous. The back of his index finger traces under the strap of your bra against your skin. "This is cute." He remarks about the white lingerie set.

"Wears it whenever she wants to get fucked." Spencer comments, almost like you're not in the room, and it gets you going more than it should.

"Take your shoes off," Aaron commands, he and Spencer having already slipped theirs off. In the interest of no one tripping over them and the three of your ending up in the ER horny, you turn to your go-bag, still sitting on the chair in the room next to Spencer's, and take them off.

You wonder who's going to be in charge. Professionally, Aaron is in charge, but Spencer is in charge between the two of you in the bedroom. And from what you've seen so far, it could be either of them.

A simple command clears the question up quickly.

"Get on your knees." It's Aaron's voice giving an instruction you're about to comply with, showing your submission to him by getting on your knees for your boss rather than your boyfriend.

Until you realize the direction wasn't for you.

Almost instantly, Spencer's the one on his knees just like you have been for him so many times before. You know that he bats for both teams, but you didn't expect the man who smacked your ass so hard one night that you couldn't sit properly for the rest of the week to be on his knees that quickly.

Aaron notices the look on your face, he must because he motions for you to come over. "Does that do something for you, princess?" Yes, yes it does, and so does that nickname.

Spencer looks up at you when you reach Aaron's side and winks, wrapping his hand around Aaron's cock and pumping it up and down. It only makes your eyes widen exponentially bigger, not only at how big it was but about what Spencer was about to do.

"Yeah, it's fucking hot." You answer, watching as your boyfriend wraps his lips around your boss's cock. He doesn't yet take it all the way in, but you can tell he's eager to.

His hand comes down to smack against your ass and his face ducks down so his lips are against your ear. "Watch your mouth." He warned in that authoritative tone that sent heat south.

But this time, you can challenge him. "Or what?"

Spencer's taking Aaron's length into his mouth impressively, bobbing his head up and down. It's better than you think you would be able to take it, his nose close to touching Aaron's pelvis. He's a chronic overachiever, which you know not only from the degrees, but also from how he acts in the bedroom.

None of the pleasure makes your boss's voice waver. "I knew you were trouble and not him." He says after laying a few more hard spanks on your ass. "That's right, isn't it, sweet boy?"

You see Spencer melt at that, softness filling his face at the nickname. The praise kink wasn't anything new, but he was far more submissive than you've ever seen.

Two fingers under Spencer's chin had him looking up again. "You have to punish her lots?" He wonders although he knows the answer. The profiler in him figure it out a long time before this evening.

Spencer pulls off for a moment, a hand still wrapped around Aaron's length as he jerks him off. "All the time." He answers, snitching on you.

You shake your head, looking up at Aaron with big eyes like you're trying to convince him to fuck you even though you know he's about to.

"Watch him," Aaron demands, taking his hand in yours before he threads it through Spencer's curly hair. You've had your hands in his hair more times than you can count, but it's different when someone else's thick fingers are alongside them. "Help him." Aaron offers, or more like orders.

Those instructional verbs get you going, and Spencer gives you the slightest nod in case you weren't already so prepared to tug his hair harder and push his mouth further down on Aaron's length.

Spencer gags a little, eyes filling with water while he tries to keep his keep Aaron's cock as deep in his mouth for as long as he can.

Your eyes are so fixed on him that you neglect to look at Aaron, which is a big mistake because as soon as you do, you notice how pretty your boss is. His head is tipped backward so you can see more of his throat while his eyes struggle to stay focused on Spencer.

"Fuck." Aaron groans, grinding his hips forward and making Spencer choke more. You can tell he's loving it, always a perfectionist. "You're so good with your mouth." Apparently, your boyfriend's skills don't only extend to women.

It was too hot to be watching them for you to get antsy, but it's also making you wet. You're hyper-aware of the two of them as Aaron's hands flex in Spencer's hair, showing you every single vein, and you can't help but want them inside you.

Aaron must notice, or he notices when you run your finger up his arm, along each inch of his warm skin. He's good at reading people since he does it as a job, but it's Spencer that makes it obvious to him. "She's already so wound up." He mumbles after he pulls off Aaron's cock.

"Yeah?" Aaron asks like he can't see it, teasing you.

Spencer's hand creeps up your thigh, wide palm smoothly gliding up your skin until he reaches the seam of your underwear where he slips his finger inside to touch you right over your heat.

Instantly, you buckle your hips against his hand, making both of them chuckle lowly. "Want someone's fingers in you, princess?" Aaron offers.

You're too desperate to wonder if he's setting you up for some form of humiliation so you nod. "Pretty please."

It seems to work because Spencer's tugging your underwear down a moment later right before Aaron's index finger is running through your folds. The tiny touch is enough for you to let out a gasp and have you wriggling, resisting the urge to grind your hips.

Spencer gets back up on his feet, now towering over you like Aaron is, something else that makes you more turned on than it probably should.

"Open," Spencer commands, and knowing what he's about to do makes your eyes flicker closed as you part your lips and stick your tongue out.

Even though he doesn't need to, he grips your jaw to pull you an extra inch closer to his face before he spits in your mouth. It tastes distinctively like precum and the cranberry in the cosmo Spencer had had. You moan loudly not only at that but also at the finger that Aaron slips inside you conveniently at the same time.

"Try." Spencer insists, turning your chin to face Aaron so he can have a turn. It's fun being between them like that, almost experimentally.

Following Spencer's instruction, he spits down into your mouth, and you swirl the mixture of their spit together in your mouth before swallowing.

Once he lets his grip on your face go, Spencer steps behind you. His lips are the ones on your neck that time, leaving even rougher marks than Aaron's lips left. You know he's comfortable being there, especially if the length you can feel against your back is anything to go by, but there's something hot about his need to mark you up more than Aaron did that's making you crazy.

Aaron's finger sinks further into you quickly. His fingers are thicker than Spencer's, something you didn't know before and something you didn't think you'd ever find out. Even the stretch from one finger has got you excited about what the rest of this is going to be like.

The moans you're letting out are both from Spencer's hot lips against your even hotter skin and Aaron's finger pressing against your walls. He's gentle with you when he slips a second finger in but it's got your pulse racing and heart thumping out of your chest.

The back of Spencer's finger runs over your spin until it reaches your bra strap which he skillfully unclips. His palms don't wait for a second to squeeze your tits, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor.

"Do you reckon you can take three fingers?" Aaron asks almost mockingly.

"Mhm." You whimper out, causing Spencer to chuckle against your neck. He tugs more at your nipples and you arch your back. Aaron's fingers pump faster in and out of you, getting you closer and closer, but they're gone before you're close enough to be doing anything more than moaning.

His lips capture yours in a heated kiss, clouding your brain so much you don't notice Spencer stepping away from behind you to take off his pants and underwear. Then, the three fingers he had inside you are being pressed inside your mouth, flatly against your tongue so you can taste yourself.

"You're so beautiful," Aaron tells you, eyes racking over your body. You figure you've crossed too many personal boundaries tonight with him to be hiding your blush.

Spencer's back in your ear before you can get too in your head about it. "You have to choose who's going to fuck you, baby." He tells you.

"Aaron!" You blurt out a little too quickly, and you immediately feel Spencer's smirk against your neck. "Please." You tack on at the end in an attempt to not get your ass smacked by either of them.

"Whatever you want, princess," Aaron assures you, kissing your lips softly. Spencer chucks him a condom he must have picked up from somewhere, and you're glad someone's thinking logically because you're too far gone to do that.

There's a quick glance between them, just for a moment, before Aaron steps back and Spencer guides you to the bed. "Hands and knees, you know what to do."

Aaron chuckles at that, and you feel the bed dip with his weight when he kneels behind you. Spencer stands in front of you on the ground, his pretty cock almost level with your eyes. You can't help but reach out to pump his length, watching as his lips part like he's close to groaning.

You're too distracted by how pretty Spencer is to be focusing on what Aaron's doing until he runs his cock through your folds, tapping it on your clit and making you whimper. Spencer shoots him another tiny look, and it's like they're communicating telepathically.

"Are you ready?" Aaron asks, checking in with you.

"Yeah, please." You reply, not having to wait any longer until his cock is thrusting inside you. It's more of a stretch than you thought it would be, and the wind is knocked out of you once he's fully inside you.

Aaron groans behind you as you let out a loud moan. His hands hold your hips as he starts with shallow thrusts where he's deepest inside you.

"It's good, right?" Spencer confirmed, tipping your head up so you can look at him even though he's talking to Aaron.

"Fuck, yeah." There's that swear world you'll only associate with him right now. It's so hot and you can't help rolling your hips back against him. "So fucking tight." He says, more to Spencer than to you.

Spencer's almost boastful about how much pleasure your pussy is bringing your boss and he grins his gloating grin down at you. "Ready to suck my cock now?" He asks, rolling his hand down his length.

"Please." You beg, sticking your tongue out so he can rest the tip of his cock against your lips. You don't waste any time taking it into your mouth, knowing he was yet to be played with. Always a giver Spencer Reid was.

Aaron keeps a steady pace as he fucks in and out of you, hips rhythmically hitting yours with each thrust. His cock feels different than Spencer's, and you can feel every inch of it inside you. It's so big and filling that you bet you can feel it in your stomach if you put your hands there.

Spencer's hands tug at your hair and his head is already tilted completely back at how the vibrations of the moans feel against his cock. "So perfect." He mumbles, eyelids fluttering closer in pleasure.

"Mhm." Aaron groans from behind you. Somehow it's not weird to hear his voice at such a different frequency with such different words. His cock manages to hit all the right places inside you, the places only Spencer has ever been able to hit properly.

You hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth, competing with what he'd done to Aaron just before. "So good, baby." He praises you when you manage to take him fully down your throat, laying your tongue flat against him. When he pulls out slightly, you twirl your tongue around the head of his cock.

Aaron's thrusts only get harder, and he's impressively able to hit a new spot inside you each time that has you moaning loudly around Spencer's cock.

Between them, you're being thrust back and forward. With each thrust into you that Aaron gives you, the further onto Spencer's cock you sink.

"She's close," Spencer informs Aaron, knowing you're unable to talk and unwilling to pull off him long enough to tell them.

"Can tell." Aaron grunts, noticing you tensing up against him. You're not even trying to, but you can feel your walls fluttering around his cock. "Are you going to cum for me, princess?"

You can barely even nod so you roll your hips against his, trying to get him as deep into you as possible as he fucks you. Spencer slips out of your mouth, continuing to pump his length slowly to keep himself on the edge.

"You've gotta hear her moan." Spencer declares, all-knowing when it comes cumming inside you.

As if on cue, you're moaning around Aaron's cock, each one increasing in volume and pitch as you feel yourself tighten around him. "Oh, yeah." Aaron agrees with your boyfriend's previous statement.

Just a moment later, you're cumming around his cock, and unconsciously pulsing your walls around him, which sends him over the edge with a loud moan. He pulls out of you as to not overstimulate either of you, but your attention is fixed on your boyfriend.

"Ready, baby?" Spencer asks, giving you a second to take his cock back into your mouth before he's cumming on your tongue. Once he's finished, he pulls out, and you open your mouth to show him his cum.

"Come here." Aaron requests, voice softer this time. You spin back around to look at Aaron who's got those strong forearms pressed against the bed as he leans down to you.

You're not sure what he's going to do until his lips are on yours, not waiting for the kiss to heat up before he has his tongue inside your mouth. You only realize what he's doing when he starts sucking Spencer's cum out of your mouth.

You kiss him passionately for a moment before, passing Spencer's cum between your mouths before you pull back and swallow what's left in your mouth.

Spencer was watching, you find out when you open your eyes, his mouth dropped to the floor at what he evidently found very hot. He's already somewhat cleaned up, a new pair of boxer shorts on while he digs through your bag to find you something to wear.

"Are you okay?" Aaron asks, gently holding your chin so he could look into your eyes.

"Really good." You reply, smiling up at him. "Are you?"

Aaron nods before going to put enough of his clothes back on so that he could walk into the hotel hallway without getting odd looks.

Spencer throws you a top of his and some pajama shorts as well as a grin. "Do you need anything?" He awkwardly asks Aaron who shakes his head at Spencer kindly.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He tells both of you. "8:30, don't be late." Just like that, he's back to Hotch.

But it doesn't mean you can't get a little teasing in. "You're getting me coffee." You tell him, smirking as you rest against the headboard.

"After letting me fuck you like that, I wouldn't have it any other way, princess." That's the last thing he says before he's out the door with a wide grin. Maybe he isn't back to being Hotch, your boss.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

sunflower, chapter thirteen

summary: in which they go to bone town

warnings: having a nightmare, crying, fear of abandonment, penetrative sex, a bit of dirty talk, praise, creampie, crying after sex

word count: 1810

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Glancing up, you looked over Spencer’s sleeping form once more, before looking down again at the sketchbook in your hands, checking to see if you’d gotten his hair just right. It had gotten a bit longer now, beautifully sprawling out over the pillow. Scratching a few more hairs onto the paper, you’d gotten it just right.

Taking a moment to stretch the hand that had been clutching onto that pencil for way too long, you were suddenly startled by Spencer waking up with a gasp. It took a moment before he noticed you sitting there in the corner and immediately took a sigh of relief.

“Hi,” he said quietly, letting a few tears run down his cheeks.

Jumping out of your comfortable position in the armchair, you moved to sit on the bed beside him, “it’s okay, you’re okay.”

Grasping your hand, he took a few deliberate deep breathes, “it was, um, I had a nightmare.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I, um… it was about Gideon, my old boss… and then Blake… and then-…” holing his focus on your hand, he muttered, “they all left me. Just like my dad did.”

Staying quiet, you just leaned over to wipe his cheeks.

“Everyone that’s ever meant something to me has left,” looking up at you, he whispered, “it’s only a matter of time before you leave me too.”

“Why would you think I’d ever leave you?”

“Because I love you, and people that I love tend not to stick around.”

“Spencer,” you called his attention, “I am not going anywhere.”

Scooting closer to him, you tugged a piece of hair behind his ear and continued, “the way that you make me feel, I’ve never experienced that with anyone,” moving your hand down his arm, you leaned closer to him, “I love you so much,” softly pressing your forehead against his, “I’m not gonna leave you. The only way that’s happening is if you kick me out.”

“God, I love you,” he breathed out and then pressed his lips against yours. The beard that he’d grow during the recovery scratched you slightly, but in a pleasant way. Feeling his hand travel up your back, in order to get you closer, you swung your leg over his hips and straddled him.

As soon as you were settled down in his lap, he slipped his tongue past your lips and danced it over yours. Pressing your body closer to his, you couldn’t help but grind against him ever so slightly, making him hum into the kiss. Feeling him quickly grow hard under you, your movements grew more persistent.

Softly moaning his name into the kiss, he pulled away slightly, “fuck, we should probably slow down a bit.”

“Why? Am I hurting you?” you moved back to look at him properly.

“No, Y/n, you are definitely not hurting me, just, if you wanna slow down, we can,” bringing his hands down to a safer zone, he rested them on top of your knees, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Do you not want to?”

“Of course I do, I just don’t wan-“

“You’re not, trust me,” picking one of his hands up and placing it on your side, dangerously close to your boob, “I want you.”

“You sure?” he searched your eyes.

“Yeah, Spencer,” you leaned down again to kiss him, “I need you.”

Kissing him deeply, he inhaled sharply as you started your hips movements again. Gliding your hands down his chest, once you reached the bottom of his shirt, you tugged it up. Parting, he carefully helped to remove it. Nervous that that might have done something, you asked, “are you okay?”

Letting the shirt fall on the mattress beside you, he smiled, “yeah, I’m fine.”

“Promise you’ll tell me if you are in even an ounce of pain?”

Slipping his hands under your shirt, “I promise.”

Leaning down to plant kisses all over his jaw, carefully skipping the neck and down to his chest, he played with your tits, squeezing them lightly, ending in a slight pull on your nipples, making you roll your hips.

Sliding your hand down to his groin, you palmed his hardness through his pants, “can I please take these off you? It’s really not fair that you’ve seen me naked, but I’ve barely seen you.”

Chuckling lightly, he replied, “I’m not gonna stop you.”

Crawling down the bed, you took them with you, pulling both his pants and boxers off, leaving him completely naked. His cock sprang free, hitting him in the stomach. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” you tossed his clothes to the floor.

Keeping your eyes locked on him, you hurriedly took your own off. It wasn’t pretty, but it was fast, even though you almost got stuck ripping your shirt off, the two of you just giggled through it.

Soon you were on top of him again, still giggling lightly, although that did die down when you realized just how bare you both were. You could feel everything.

Grabbing a hold of your hips, he grinded you harder down on his dick. Closing your eyes at the pleasure shooting through you every time the pressure was just right on your clit. Reaching your hand down, he quickly grabbed it, making you open your eyes and look at him, “wait, there’s a condom in the drawer on the right,” he breathed heavily.

“We can, but I’m on the pill, so I’m great if you just wanna…” your offer was cut short as he pressed his fingertips against your clit.

Rubbing in slow circles, “if you’re okay with it, then so am I.”

Not needing any more foreplay, you grabbed a hold of his cock. Hovering, teasing your entrance, you slowly sank down on it, till you were filled to the brim. Your legs quivered slightly on the way down. It didn’t hurt. Even though you knew that you weren’t exactly a nun, you were still a bit nervous about it hurting. But it didn’t. Not to say that it felt the same as riding a toy, this was very much different. Even just knowing that this was Spencer and not just some inanimate object lit a fire deep within you that you couldn’t quite explain.

When you were completely settled on him, you didn’t move, taking a moment. Brushing his hand over your thigh, he breathed out, “fuck, you feel amazing,” then looking you directly in the eye, he reassured you, “take your time.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his sweet words, causing your walls to clench down on his dick, making him inhale sharply, “what’s so funny?” he smiled.

“Nothing’s funny, I just love you so much.”

Moving his hand further up your thigh, he came to touch your clit again, making it hard not to rock your hips. Looking down at him, brows slightly furrowed, mouth agape, you unconsciously slide a hand over your body, coming to rest at your left boob, cupping it and pinching the nipple.

Slowly you started moving your hips, letting out shaky moans.

Fuck, it felt incredible. Only just begun, but the high of it all made the end creep up on you that much faster than you expected. Whining his name, he cooed at you, “you’re doing so good.”

Keeping his hand’s movements up on your tiny bundle of nerves, you started lifting your hips further up, until just the very tip was in, and then you eased your way down again. Finding a good rhythm, you kept it deliciously slow, feeling every single inch of him.

Feeling not far off from cuming, you moaned out, “Spencer, keep doing that, I’m-, oh fuck!” arching your back, you let go. Supporting yourself, with a flat palm on his abdomen, keeping yourself upright, your hip buckled, desperately riding out your orgasm. Never stopping, he kept on stimulating you until you almost had you rip his fingers away from you.

Panting, you crumbled, laying down on top of him and rolling your eyes shut.

Stroking his hand down your back, he slurred, “I knew that would feel amazing, but fuck, that was so much better than I imagined.”

Your legs were trembling on either side of him. Keeping your face smooshed into his shoulder, you moved your hips ever so slightly, wincing slightly at the overstimulation, though it only lasted a few moments, hearing Spencer curse under his breath made your recovery quick.

Picking up the speed, you kept your upper body low, staying close to him. Feeling his fingers dig into your sides, maybe in an effort to help you along or maybe he just couldn’t help himself, you enjoyed the feeling of his control for just a moment until you remembered the state he was in. Reaching down to remove them, you brought them up and interlocked your fingers with his.

“You-, “you choked out amidst your moans, “are not allowed to do that.” Hovering above him, looking deeply into his eyes, “let me do all the work.”

Tightening his grip on your hands, he smiled, “yes, ma’am.”

Giving him a quick kiss, you then stayed right there, completely close, sharing his breath, observing every single one of his reactions. It wasn’t long before you saw his eyes struggle to stay open, and panting out a question, “where?”

“Inside, please, I want to feel you, I want all of you.”

It was almost like you could see straight into his soul as he came. Doing his best to keep his eyes open, you kept up your movements, milking him of every wonderful drop, the sensation only made you smile. Coming to a stop, you stayed there for maybe a little longer than necessary, not wanting to part from him. You closed your eyes. Jesus Christ, you loved this man.

His breath returned to normal after a bit, but yours didn’t. It certainly got more regular, but it also became wobbly. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes again to see a slightly blurry Spencer looking up at you with worry, that you came to learn why.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“What?” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re crying,” he pointed out, letting go of one of your hands to touch your cheek, “was it, oh, I’m so sorry,” he carefully pulled out of you, there forth slowly letting his cum leak out and drip down onto his lower stomach.

Confused you wiped your eyes, “I’m not sad, I don’t know why I’m crying, that was amazing.”

“Oh,” he smiled.

“I love you so much,” you cried, laughing lightly at the silliness of your reaction.

Letting out a soft chuckle, he too became all teary-eyed, “I love you too.”

Whipping your cheeks and planting kisses on them as well, he kept on whispering the proclamation on repeat, well after your tears had stopped.

next chapter

#sunflower #lea’s writing #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 4: Dead on your feet

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

Warnings: stab/slash wound, knife, knives, blood, blood loss, makeshift bandages, self done first aid, medical inaccuracies

Word count: 1947

In your defence, you didn’t realise you had been stabbed until the paramedics were gone and you were processing the crime scene. And sure, you probably should have told someone and said ‘hey, you know, I think the unsub has slashed me a bit and by that I mean hey look here’s a massive slash wound from his knife’, but you didn’t. You simply had an internal panic before covering the problem with your FBI windbreaker - which were waterproof, so theoretically also blood proof? Your plan also wasn’t the best (wait until you get to the police station and patch yourself up, last the jet journey and drive yourself to the closest hospital when your shift ended) but it was the most coherent plan you’d be able to come up with.

“You alright, (Y/N)?” Morgan grinned, “You’re quieter than usual,”

“Just thinking about how hard it must be for you to be second best around me,” You teased trying your best not to show your panic to the rest of the team, Derek gave a laugh, clapping you on the back, missing your wince.

You rode with Hotch, Rossi, and JJ, hoping that Hotch’s driving would make you feel less like you were going to throw up than Morgan’s driving. That wasn’t the case (nothing against Hotch, it was simply the odds were not in his favour). It wasn’t long until you were at the police station and you all piled out of the car and into the station.

You didn’t get a chance to stop at the police station and properly try and patch yourself up, as it turns out. Spencer had decided to stay behind and pack up during the arrest and normally you would appreciate that but you could have throttled the younger agent tonight. You didn’t say anything though, just gave him a smile and a nod as you slowly started to pack your things. You knew Hotch and Rossi had noticed something was wrong, but they hadn’t confronted you about it, so you were taking it as a win. It wasn’t hurting as much, not yet anyway. But you knew it was going to soon. Part of you thought the anticipation of the pain might actually be the worse part. Although, you doubted that you’d think that once the pain started kicking in full. You felt it, sure, but it was more a light dull ache than anything else.

“The caffeine addiction kicking in there?” Derek joked, nodding at your shaking hands.

You forced a laugh and a nod, “Always,” There was a small pause, “No, all that adrenaline’s after effects, apparently it decided to hit me hard today,”

“Huh,” Derek said, both of you continuing to make sure your things were packed.

“The funny thing about adrenaline is that not only does it increase blood levels to the brain and muscles, but can also decrease blood flow to some organs too,” Spencer chimed.

You nodded, “I think I remember my psychology teacher telling me that once,”

Hotch straightened up, turning to the whole team, “Are we all ready to go?”

Everyone, but you nodded, “I need to pee,” You said, Hotch fought back a smile but nodded. It had become almost a ritual, you would go to the toilet before getting on the jet everytime without a doubt.

This time, however, it wasn’t so much needing to pee as it was ‘figure out a way to stop the hole - well, gaping wound - in my stomach from bleeding so damn much'. You walk at your usual pace, despite wanting to run and crawl at the same time.

You looked around the men's bathroom when you got there, checking for officers as well as supplies. There wasn't much to work with, in fact, there was no first aid kit, nothing. All you had to go on was toilet paper and disposable hand towels. You decide on the hand towels, grabbing a handful, placing against your wound (having lifted your shirt) You couldn’t see anything to hold it in place and you very much doubted wrapping toilet paper around your stomach would secure the make-shift gauze. With a sigh, you settled with your belt, quickly undoing the buckle, you placed it over the wound and ‘gauze’ with a hiss, you did the buckle back up before dropping your shirt to cover everything - thankful that your shirt was rather baggy today. You place your windbreaker back on. If anyone asks, you can say that you’re cold. You were starting to feel a bit on the colder side, actually.

This did not look good. You had a six hour flight. You should probably tell Hotch. The thought of that was immediately knocked out of your head when you imagined his disapproving glare. Nope. You did not need that on top of a stab-slash wound. With a sigh (and then a wince) you headed out of the bathroom.

“There he is!” Morgan teased.

“We thought you might have fallen down the toilet,” Emily laughed. You gave a laugh, doing your best to hide your pain.

“You okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” You give JJ a smile.

“Yeah, I think I’m just getting a migraine,” The lie slips off your tongue easily and you feel bad, until you see the worry leave her eyes.

“I’ve got pain killers?”

“That would be great, thank you,” You smiled, it was really starting to hurt now.

After you downed two painkillers and had a glass of water, you swung by the hotel to grab your go bags (already packed). You groaned, turning to Morgan, "Morgan, be a dear and grab my bag for me? Please?" Morgan looked at you, observing the way you covered your eyes with your hand, your pale complexion, and the way you were hunched in on yourself.

He nodded, "Yeah, of course," Must have been a bad migraine.

Hotch was always the last one to board the jet. Often, the rest of the team would get on whilst he was saying goodbye to the local police before he boarded - letting them know that they would help whenever and wherever they could with any upcoming cases. This didn’t change.

Hotch walked next to you as you all made your way to the jet, “Are you alright?” You nodded, giving him a strained smile. This was all a massive mistake, but you were too stubborn to say anything now. You made your grave.

“I’m fine,” The rest of the team were now boarded. You gave a quiet huff, shifting the strap of your go-bag before beginning your slow ascent up the stairs (not wanting to push your body). You nearly made it. You were so close to the top of the stairs when the dizziness hit. Hotch right behind you, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” You gave a sluggish nod. You were quite cold, now that you thought about it. The dizziness hadn’t let up and you felt incredibly nauseous. But still you said nothing, determined to push on. You went up two more steps before the world blurred into a variety of colours and Hotch was the only thing holding you up.

“I need some help here!” Hotch yelled, shifting his position to prevent you both from falling down the stairs. The team poked their heads out of the door, seeing you limp in Hotch’s arms caused them all to kick into action. “Morgan, help me get him on the jet, Emily call 911, Reid get the first aid kit, we need to figure out what’s wrong.” Everyone nodded and scrambled to follow Hotch’s orders. They placed you on the sofa, Reid kneeling beside you with the first aid kit next to him. He scanned your frame, deciphering where the injury could be when a flash of blood caught his eye. There was a long and thin hole in your shirt. He lifted your shirt up gently, eyes widening when they landed on the large laceration that ran across your side, from hip to ribs - as much tissue as possible held in place by a belt.

Reid heard Hotch sigh behind him and JJ and Emily gasp and turn away. Reid got to work, apparently the paramedics were going to be ten minutes so he needed to stem the bleeding as much as possible. He could try and stitch it up but that would increase the chance of infection - plus ten minutes wasn’t too bad. Reid nodded his thanks to Morgan when he handed him a wad of gauze to apply to the wound. Rummaging through the first aid kit, Spencer grabs the saline solution, pouring it onto the wound to keep it clean whilst they were waiting for the paramedics before Spencer placed the bandages on top and put pressure on the wound.

All eyes snapped to you when you gave a groan as Spencer put more pressure on the wound. “Spence?” You asked, voice thick with sleep. “What you doing? What happened?”

“You passed out from blood loss on the stairs,” Hotch said, “We’ll be talking about that when you’re feeling better. The paramedics should be here soon.”

“I passed out?” You asked, look made eye contact with Morgan - who in this situation managed a teasing smirk. “Oh god, I’m never going to live this down.”

“Mum and Dad are so going to ground you,” Morgan said, motioning to Rossi and then Hotch, who both rolled their eyes.

“In all seriousness,” Hotch said, cutting Derek off as he went to add another comment, “I will be grounding you."

You gave a chuckle, grimacing at the pain that flooded through your side. "Sorry," Hotch said, you shook your head.

"My fault," You admitted, Hotch rolled his eyes.

"Paramedics are three minutes out,"

"That's fine," You said, waving your hand dismissively.

"I'm not sure the blood flow is reducing," Spencer chimed, eyes flicking up to Hotch.

"You sure?" You asked, "Nah, it'll be alright. The writers can't kill off the best looking character. Derek would get too confident,"

Morgan gave a snort, rolling his eyes, "What are you on about?"

"I don't even know," You said with a wince.

Morgan turned to Reid, "Is delusional a symptom of blood loss?" Spencer gently shook his head.

Hotch gave Morgan a look and opened his mouth ready to lecture you both, when the paramedics jogged up the stairs to the jet.

You gave them a small wave, "Oh, hey," Morgan face palmed.

"Can we take a look?" The paramedic asked.

"At least take me to dinner first," You muttered, before giving them a nod. "Yeah, sure,"

"We're going to need to you take to hospital, we'll give you some painkillers to help with the pain, and you'll be taken to surgery,"

"How long is that gonna take?" If Hotch’s glare was anything to go by, that was not the right thing to say. "I mean, thank you."

JJ quickly told the paramedics you had taken some painkillers, they nodded, noting it down. Before they began their work. Soon enough you were in the back of an ambulance with Hotch, high on morphine.

"Morgan’s right," You said, turning to Hotch, patting his arm, "You really are the dad of the team."

"Rossi’s going to be so happy to find out that he's the mum of the team,"

"He does tend to mother hen," You acknowledged, Hotch huffed a laugh.

When the paramedics edged the gurney out of the ambulance, Rossi stood anxiously at the entrance. "Are you okay?" He turned to the paramedics, "Is he okay?"

You and Hotch glanced at each other, you giggling and Hotch trying his best to hold back a laugh.

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evis-gossip · 2 years

Text

“The girl from the library” - Chapter 2

Summary: Spencer has been going to a specific library for a specific reason, and it may not be for the books.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader, Spencer Reid x Reader x OC!Frank (platonic)

Genre: fluff, like fluff to root teeth, like I have diabetes now, and angst if you squint

Warnings: canon type violence kissing if that counts (I started working on this a long time ago, so I don't remember some things. If you see something, please let me know)

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: hi guys! Here’s part 2 written with the outmost love i could put into something, i hope you love it as much. Please take in to a count that English is not my native language, so all mistakes made are mine. If you see any, let me know Lots of love <3

Series Masterlist

——————————

A child. Out of anything they could’ve had to save, a child from being auctioned in a pedo ring, on a day like today no less. Spencer takes the conscious decision of focusing on the case, knowing perfectly well that thinking, even in the slightest about how he left Y/N without even so much as a phone number, would mean going down a rabbit hole he isn’t even sure he can get out of. The thought of her going to the library and waiting for him to talk about the book he hasn’t read yet, and the disappointment in her gorgeous face when she realizes he’s not coming, almost has him running to Penny, asking her to find the girl from the library to at least warn her of the situation. He knows he can’t right now and he should never, but god he wants to.

He consciously decides to focus on the case, not only because a little boy’s life is at risk and the clock is counting down, but also because he knows that as soon as everyone’s safe he is a step closer to her. Everyone’s running against the clock and he’s thinking about a girl he barely knows. He knows the danger, so he goes back to the case. With Elle back on the team, assigned to go with him to the Crimes Against Children Unit in Maryland, there will be no other opportunity for distraction. Or so he hopes. The room not being a room, Mr Rawlings, the tadpoles shirt, Mount Pleasant, the church, the school, it all leads to Charlie Sparks. There’s only one hour left, so it’s time to do what they do best, profiling. Something changed a year ago when Charlie, back then Peter disappeared, it’s clear that it was Agent Katie coming too close to finding him, so the unsub pulled the boy from school and locked him in prison cell like room with no doors or windows, so she must have been really close, it had to be someones he interviewed. It all comes down to Michael Earlson. Soon enough, they’re there. The child is safe, the unsub in custody. The child’s real name is Dustin Powers, he was abducted when he was only one year old. Luckily, JJ is able to trace his mother, Jackie, and finally they are reunited.

It’s not many times that happens in Spencer’s line of work. But with such a happy ending, he can’t help but feel hopeful as his thoughts go back to Y/N. Hotch doesn’t press too much on the paperwork, given that it’s been a long day and it all ended well. Spencer doesn’t give the time to Morgan and Elle to tease him about his rush like they always do, he’s already too late. Him being ahead of the paperwork as usual, is the first to finish and as it’s been happening in the later weeks, he leaves as soon as he’s dismissed. I don’t think the team has ever seen Reid run so fast out of the bullpen.

He considers stopping and asking Derek for advice before rushing to the library, but he knows all too well that Derek’s advice when it comes to women wouldn't work for him, and he hopes they also wouldn’t work for Y/N. As much as he wants to stop the hope before it becomes disappointment, the hand holding just the day before gives him something to hold on to. And he can’t help it, he might not admit it, but this is everything to him. He runs to the metro, and it’s not until he comes to a halt that he realizes he has not read a single page of the book that they agreed they would talk about, but at this moment, he’s too nervous, his hands are shaking too much while he thinks of a good enough apology. He has the feeling that Y/N knowing the truth would let it go without a big struggle, but still, in his eyes she deserves the world, not a half-assed apology. So he thinks over and over, rehearsing, practicing, internalizing his best words. It doesn’t cross his mind how, as much of a man of words as he is, he’s always at loss for them when it comes to speaking with her.

He was in no time at the steps of the library, running up to the building as fast as his legs would take him, even skipping steps with the knowledge of the risk that comes with the action, but not caring in the slightest. Completely out of breath, barging through the door, directed to the counter, Spencer is a man on a mission. It’s too late to think twice as he always does, too late for overthinking. “Hey m-” Frank starts before being interrupted by a very agitated Spencer “Hi, where is she?” the doctor demands, pulling a frown form the librarian’s face “She has been here all day waiting for yo’ ass to show up, what makes you th-” he’s interrupted again “I just want to apologize” he breathes out calming Frank, before slowly retreating to the back where he knows she’s always sitting to read.

As soon as he sees Y/N, as we all know was going to happen, all of his thoughts, along with his well elaborated apology, fly out the window. When she looks up at him he recognizes the disappointment and nearly anger in her big beautiful eyes, and he hates that he is the reason for it. “Took you l-” “I was on a case” Spencer is apparently on a strike for interrupting people. The frown on her face quickly turns to surprise and a dash of curiosity “What do you mean?” she crosses her arms across her chest sending the you man into his usual speech characteristics “I- I- I was called on a case l- last night” he pauses but still sensing confusion on her face knows he should explain what he does for a living, it had to be done sooner or later “I’m an FBI agent, I work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, commonly referred to as the BAU” his rushed words pull a small smile on her face, knowing that he missed out involuntarily is enough for her to forgive him. As she’s still sitting in her usual chair and the book on her lap, Spencer thinks she is going to ignore him when she goes back to her stationery and starts scribbling something. But the smirk on her face when she finally looks back at him is nearly enough to put his nerves to rest.

“Can I see your badge?” “Y- You want so see my badge” confusion in his voice as he pulls out said item, handing it to her. In any other occasion he’d be wary about the actions, but somehow he knows he’d trust Y/N with nearly anything “Spencer Reid, SSA. Anything else I should know about?” she inquires while signaling to the seat next to her for him to take “It’s actually Dr. Spencer Reid” she hands him back the badge, with the sticky note she had scribbled before on it. It’s her number, in a messy calligraphy, a set of digits he knows he won’t have to look at again because they’re ingrained in his brain. Still, he carefully saves the small piece of paper “So doctor, huh?” she presses further leaning closer to him “Um, yeah, they’re PHDs, 3 of them” he answers feeling calm already, expecting to see her utmost surprised face, but her expression doesn’t falter “Well, having seen how fast you read, I wouldn’t expect less” she chuckles, but it takes Spencer to the immediate conclusion, she has been watching him. That simple thought converts into a blush that creeps up his face “I have a- an eidetic memory and can read 20000 words per minute” he stammers out deciding not to bring up his IQ “Hum, that’s cool, oh, have you read the book we talked about?” damn it, the book. He has to admit, he is curious about why both her and Frankie have been so insistent about the book, but he doesn’t take anything further from it “N- No, I was on the case” “It’s okay, you can do it know, I suppose it wouldn’t take you more than ten minutes” he nods pulling out the book from his satchel.

Spencer thinks concentrating while having the girl of his dreams right next to him was going to be an impossible task. He’s surprised, to say the least. He found the book so incredibly fascinating he nearly forgot about Y/N. Of course his brain doesn’t let him forget anything, but still he can’t put his focus on anything but the pages before him. He’s not that into the novel when he realizes he’s nearly skimming through it instead of enjoying it. He starts over. If Y/N was so insistent about it, there must be a reason, therefore, he sets on making the most out of it, taking his time, knows it won’t be that long anyway. He reads every word with intention, every sentence and its meaning. He finishes in 20 minutes, and he almost wishes he could start over, but as of right now, he prioritizes getting to talk Y/N as soon as possible. Lucky him, she’s sitting in the chair right next to him.

He waits tentatively, not knowing when, how, or where to start. It has been a long time since a novel has left him as speechless as he finds himself right in this very moment. Y/N, as if reading his mind, diverts her attention from her book to the young man sitting beside her. “That took you longer than I calculated” “Y- Yeah, I tried enjoying it as much as I could. And it was so worth it. No wonder you and Frank were so persistent” she chuckles at his words “No, but to be honest, it has such a captivating narrative, so well constructed that I felt like I was immersed in it. I have spent the last years of my life mostly reading textbooks and divulging works, which I love, don’t get me wrong, but this made me feel like no other book has in quite a while. So thank you for that” seeing the wide genuine smile on her face as he was done speaking made Spencer want to repeat a speech like that all over again. He would do anything for that view.

“C’mon, it’s getting late” she started getting up, still smiling. It makes Spencer doubt how abruptly she proposed leaving, but that look tells Spencer she isn’t leaving without him. They approach the counter together, where Frank is standing with a mischievous expression. In the midst of confusion and excitement, Spencer overlooked his face completely, placing his new favorite book on the counter, unfortunately to return. “So, something tells me I nailed it with this recommendation” “Yeah, you did. It greatly surpassed my expectations. It’s so new and it feels like such a breeze of fresh air. I’m gonna head to a bookstore as soon as I possibly can to buy it. I wish I could meet the genius mind who wrote it” Spencer sighs looking at the cover, missing the smirk plastered on Frank’s face while he looks back and forth between the two, and the obvious creeping blush on Y/N’s cheeks. “Well, today must be your lucky day, man, cause she’s right in front of you”

Spencer’s face can only be described as confusion at this very moment as he looks up at the librarian, who nods his head towards the girl trying desperately to avoid eye contact, timidly rocking her body back and forth as the genius sets his eyes on her. The uttermost disbelief, but not for the reasons the poor girl might think. It’s not that the doctor wouldn’t believe she was the mastermind behind it, it is simply that he can’t believe his luck. The girl from the library, the one that has been captivating him in the distance, that just the day before showed him how she, not just doesn’t interrupt his rambling, she rants as well, the one he felt so incredibly comfortable around as to hold hands in public, even though they had just met officially, is not just the girl of his dreams, she’s also the writer of his new favorite book. That can’t be, Spencer doesn’t get that much luck, never, much less in one day.

“No” he mutters in a low voice, almost to himself “Yes” she whispers back, in the softest demeanor, as if not to scare a terrified little animal “B- B- But- I- I, um, How?” he barely got out, her following chuckle lets him know everything he needs. “Come on, let’s go for a coffee. I’ll explain all of it, I promise” she leads back to where they were before to pick up their belongings. Spencer can’t help the goofiest grin creep up his face as he drags his feet behind her. Frank shakes his head laughing to himself as he watches all of these interactions happen. He wouldn't admit it, but he watched for nearly six months this whole drama unravel, pressing Y/N to talk to Spencer, pushing Spencer to speak to Y/N. Intentionally recommending him a book he damn well knew she wrote. Because they’ve known each other for years, he loves playing matchmaker. He wouldn’t admit pulling the strings, or maybe he would, he might as well take pride in it. All this writer knows is that he did God's work, and we all thank him for it.

The pair left the library with a short goodbye. No time for elaborated farewells, coffee awaits. The excitement in Spencer’s body bubbles up at an increasing rate. He feels like a million dollar man, walking down the stairs of the old building again, just like the day before. She mindlessly grabs his hand, and Spencer feels again uncaracterisricly safe in the physical contact, he feels comforted, and cared for. He never wants to stop. The young man leads her to a book-coffeeshop he knows well. The short walk is enjoyed in silence, listening to the soft whoosh in the autumn air. He’s always known this was his favorite season, but never so strongly had he felt like the colors were so vibrant yet calm. The warm tones and brown leaves perfectly match everything from how great he feels to the color tones in both of their clothes.

They reach the place as Spencer finally reacts from the haze he had been up to this point. He opens the door for her before she even tries to reach. The soft spoken giggled thank you she gives him makes the afternoon sun shine a bit brighter. He takes her coat, pulls her chair out, a whole gentleman ordeal, he needs to impress. They order their coffees as conversation starts to flow simply. Where are you from, do you have any siblings, where did you study, etc. “How is it that you are always in the same library? You took the metro yesterday, so I would assume you have other libraries closer by” he inquires “Are you implying I should find a different library?” she chuckles making Spencer panic “No no no, not at all. It’s just, um I’m curious, t- that’s all” he laughs nervously, but calming down at her easy expression “Frank and I have been friends since college, he basically adopted me the first year. We had a couple of classes together and I was nearly alone in a completely different city, not to mention country. So we became besties. Then when we graduated we still kept in contact and now that we live in the same city we hang out again like old times” she finishes as their coffees came, obviously with the expected joking around the insane amount of sugar in his coffee “That can’t be good for you, but somehow I feel like that’s not the unhealthiest habit you have” They drink their coffee with the constant enquiers on her career “Sorry if I’m pressing you” he meeks “No, don’t worry, it’s normal. Not everyday you meet a published author” “And an excellent writer if I may add” he smiles gaining her smile back “You may”

They get up to go wander around the books, as necessary for the two young people. As she’s taking a look at the classics section, he takes his route to the young adult fantasy, with a very specific title to find. His absence is noted only as he comes back with a wide grin on his face. It makes her cackle seeing the cover she knows all too well. “What? It’s a great book, written by a great author, who also happens to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” he says boldly with a sly grin, just to see her blush, which he does achieve “Stop. It’s embarrassing” she shoves him to the side, looking away. Both of their stomachs flutter like crazy, not nervous anymore, but excited like they haven't been in a long time. After everything has been paid they take the short walk again, holding hands like it’s the most natural thing to do, and for them, it already feels like so. She stops on her track as they arrive at the subway station, just like the prior day, but Spencer draws her hand “What are you doing?” she inquires quizzingly “I’m walking you home” he shrugs “Spencer, you don’t hav-” “But I want to” he states simply. At this point, Spencer’s on his way of becoming a master at making her blush. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The crowded car leaves them no other choice but to stand very close, almost holding each other. They don’t complain. You see, something about Y/N is that she is tiny, especially in comparison to Spencer. Y/N has always hated how much she loses stability in the metro, but it just so happens that everytime her balance stumbles, pretty boy is her to catch her by the waist, apologizing profusely nonetheless, even after her constant reasussence and “it’s fine”. Y/N can’t help but find herself stumbling more than usual, forcing Spencer to leave his hand at her waist, most pleasant occurence for either of them. Unfortunately, the ride comes to an end, but that doesn’t mean Spencer gets any further from her. Quite the contrary, he gets closer. Again, no complaints. This might be surprising given how adverse he is to physical touch, yet he finds that he craves it on this occasion.

Soon enough, they’re already at the steps of her building. The bittersweet feeling knowing they're about to say goodbye is palpable in the air. An awkward farewell is about to happen as they stand merely inches apart. They’re both over the moon, and as we have come to realize, Spencer’s feeling bold today. He slowly reaches his arms, cupping her face in his hands, boring into her eyes longingly. Nothing can be heard but their soft breathing, and the rapidly accelerating beating of their hearts. As both of their gazes slowly shift to the other’s lips, their already close stance becomes an embrace. Spencer’s insecurities come back rushing to him at an unstoppable pace. “Y- Y/N, are you sure you want this? I- I’d never want to-“ his half formulated thought is cut off when she reaches up on her tiptoes to kindly put him out of his misery with a gentle kiss.

Of course Spencer had been kissed before, yet he found himself feeling like a brand new man. He deepens the kiss with a renovated vigor and most importantly, hope. Y/N’s hands slide up to the ape of his neck from his waist. Their lips move in sync, their limbs easily fall in place into each other’s embrace, this is perfection, this is art. They only separate slightly when the necessity for oxygen becomes far too big, but still coming back for sweet pecks not wanting to let this moment die. Saccharine little kisses start being peppered all over Y/N’s face, eliciting most endearing giggles. “Spencer” she breathes out in between kisses prompting the tiniest gap to separate the two, only enough for him to glance at her blushing face, knowing well of equally red his looks. His glasses slid down his nose in the most awkward way possible. “Sorry” he mutters, pushing them up “Don’t be, you’re simply the cutest” she offers with a proud smile “Would you like to come up?” “Oh, I- um, I- I’m sorry, I should come back home now, I- I-” truly, he’d like to spend every second with her, but all the confidence he had been exuding all this time has suddenly from and leave him back to his normal clumsy self. He can’t help but feel like coming up the stairs would mean embarrassing himself to unknown levels (even if in the back of his head he knows Y/N would never see it like that) which is not exactly the desired outcome of the day. “It's alright. Will you call me then? I’d love of us to see each other again” “Y- yeah, I will” he promised “Bye, Spencer” “Bye, Y/N”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reíd x y/n #spencer red fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic

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lorna-d-m · 2 years

Text

Chapter Eight: Vows

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC

Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.

Word Count: 8,731

W: language, violence, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), vaginal penetration. No stated use of birth control but wrap it before you tap it folks.

A/N: Little announcement, I will be going on a trip later this month, so there may be a delay for chapter nine. I do, however, have a one shot I can post if it takes too long. I have also decided on a modern au for Laszlo Kreizler as my next fic.

Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!

previous chapter

Mary woke at sunrise when Helmut kissed her forehead. He did not think she would wake, but when he pulled away she blinked at him, still half asleep. She beamed, relishing the affection he showed her.

“What are you doing up so early?” She rolled on her stomach to his side of the bed when he got up. It was still warm and smelled like him.

“I’m always an early riser,” he remarked, “You’ve simply never seen me in the morning.”

Mary contemplated that while he excused himself. It was usually Helmut waking her up with breakfast or a meal and checking in on her. She had never woken up with him, but she liked it. Hopefully, every morning would start with a kiss. Lightly, Mary ran her finger over her lips, jealous he did not kiss her there. But, she thought, it was sweet of him to kiss her forehead.

Helmut returned and drew back the heavy red curtains. Bright morning light spilled in, and Mary blinked a few times as she adjusted. He stayed a moment at the window to gauge the weather and the waves before humming in satisfaction. She watched Helmut saunter about the room to get dressed, pulling clothes from trunks and setting them aside. His gold chain, nestled amongst his chest hair, glinted in the light and caught her attention. He started to dress in a light tea-colored shirt, but he frowned when he discovered a hole under his arm. It was large enough to stick his hand through, so he found another shirt.

“I could fix that for you,” Mary offered from their bed. She wore several of his shirts, and she knew most of them had small holes or tears in them. If there was some way she could help him, she was glad to do so.

“Would you? I have sewing supplies somewhere here…” Helmut trailed off as he rifled through his desk.

“Of course,” She smiled coyly. “I did not spend so many afternoons in a drawing room, sipping tea and practicing my stitching, not to utilize it.”

He handed her the bundle of thread, patchwork cloth, and pincushion filled with needles. Mary was about to ask him for the clothes to mend when there was a hesitant knock at the door.

“Come in,” Helmut directed. He had yet to slip on his new shirt, but he made no move to do so. Zemo was not ashamed of his body, and he saw no need to rush to conceal himself from his crew.

Mary quickly covered herself with a sheet despite nothing being exposed. He bit back a snicker seeing her scramble, knowing modesty was ingrained into her head and despite nothing occurring, lying in his bed while he dressed did not appear chaste. Although the sheet could not hide her, it made her feel better.

Billy entered balancing a breakfast tray in one hand and keeping his eyes cast down. He spoke in a rush as he set down the tray; Helmut wondered if the boy even took a breath. “Sorry, sir, some of the crew said you might not wan’ to be disturbed in the morning, but others said you would wan’ breakfast, so I figured I would knock…”

Mary blushed and wished to disappear, but Helmut smiled goodnaturedly. He would hate for Billy to enter some morning and find them in a state of undress and disarray, so it was best to dismiss him from some of his duties. “Thank you for the breakfast, but I think in the future it will not be necessary.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Billy still avoided Helmut’s eye and nodded before leaving.

“Is he gone yet?” Mary asked from under her sheet.

Helmut facetiously pulled the linen away from her and chuckled. “Yes, and tell me, Sternchen, what will you do when there is an emergency and someone comes into my cabin to find you in a less demure state?”

“Hmm,” she dramatized her thinking to amuse him, “I will send my soon-to-be husband, while I stay in the privacy of our bed.” Mary tugged the sheet back over her.

“Oh, is that your plan?” Helmut leaned in, placed a quick kiss on her cheek, and stayed exhilaratingly close to her. He practically purred in her ear, “Of course, I should have known.”

Mary’s heart skipped a beat, and she barely restrained a gasp. With a small smirk, he withdrew. Helmut finished dressing, securing his belt over his black linen pants and lacing up his boots. Then he handed her a neatly folded stack of clothes to darn before sitting at the table. Mary left their bed to join him, eager to eat breakfast.

“Is there somewhere on deck I can sit?” He glanced up at her while pouring his morning tea, so she continued. “I thought it would be nice to sit outside in the sun and the breeze for a bit.” Being cooped up in the Governor’s house and spending all of the previous day in their cabin made her long for some fresh air.

“I am not sure if there is one that will suit you, but it can be arranged.” The morning was far more temperate. By afternoon she would need shade and protection, perhaps even venturing below deck. Amongst his many arrangements for the day, Helmut wanted to be sure she would be comfortable.

After breakfast, Helmut paid a visit to the galley. If he was to plan a pirate wedding, he wanted it to be a proper celebration for everyone aboard. That would mean plenty of food, freely flowing drinks, and a massive amount of work for the cook to prepare for the night.

“It’s possible…” Anthony the cook stirred something in a large pot before returning to Zemo, “If you get me more fresh fish.” He cracked a grin, “How am I supposed to make a feast fit for a baron with only salted meats and preserves?”

Zemo returned Anthony’s grin with an acknowledging smile. It was rare for his previous title to be mentioned to his face, but he knew in this instance Anthony meant no harm. It was lighthearted ribbing, meant to make the Captain laugh.

“I am sure some of the crew can be convinced to cast lines and nets rather than their usual chores.” Besides, if he would rather eat a fresh fish stew than a sad, salted, unrecognizable piece of meat, so would they.

Anthony sprinkled several spices into the pot and gave it a taste. Smacking his lips, he returned to the Captain. “Then you will have the finest food any pirate has ever known, sir.”

Helmut did not doubt that, so he began his search for Oeznik. He needed his first mate to officiate the wedding, and he knew his old friend would be pleased for him. Oeznik was an early morning riser, and given the mid-morning time, he suspected he would find him patrolling the deck or inspecting work. He left the galley and passed through the berth deck.

Mary sat in the shade where the quarter-deck hung over the main deck. She happily showed him her work so far, and her stitches were smooth and clean as he knew they would be. He was thankful to have some of his shirts repaired and in rotation again since she enjoyed wearing them. Helmut did not mind sharing with her, he rather enjoyed the sight of her in his clothes, but he knew they both would appreciate clothes without holes or tears in them.

“What’s this?” He picked up a shirt to the left of her, yet to be mended, with several tears and holes in it. Helmut did not recognize it as his.

“Oh!” Mary smiled with pride, “Some of the crew brought me clothes to patch up.” He eyed the stack next to her which looked like more than some, and he arched an eyebrow. “They noticed me sitting here sewing things for you, and they asked if I would mend their clothes. I agreed, so three of them brought me a few pieces.”

“Awfully helpful of you.” He remembered her net fixing exploits and knew she liked to stay busy. Too much idle time and she would grow bored and restless. It was one of the traits he admired about her. “I am sure they will appreciate it.”

“Yes,” she glanced up from her stitching to look at him. “I examined one of the shirts and found several rough, zig-zagging repairs. I rather think mine will be an improvement.”

Helmut refolded the shirt and returned it to the pile. “With certainty.” He spotted Oeznik at the bow of the ship, so he politely excused himself. Mary urged him on knowing he had a busy day.

Zemo noticed the two men scrubbing the deck within listening distance as he approached, so he greeted his old friend in their native tongue. It would give them privacy since little the crew understood. Those who did were not near.

Oeznik followed his Captain’s lead when he spoke. “I see Ms. Spencer has decided to stay on the ship.” He always spoke of her as Ms. Spencer, never the less formal Mary.

Grinning slyly, Helmut pressed his palms against the railing of the ship. He leaned over a touch to see the waves cresting against the keel. “Ms. Mary Eleanor Spencer has,” after her panic last night of course he needed to say her full name with a smirk, “and we have chosen to wed. I need my first mate to officiate.”

“When, sir?”

“Tonight, at sunset.” He turned away from the water. “She did not wish to wait any longer.” Neither did he, but it had been her idea. Helmut would make it happen for her.

His first mate laughed quietly, and he almost did too from sheer joy. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Mary would grow fond of him, let alone want to marry him. Helmut spent so many nights dreading when she would leave him, how she would loathe him when she knew the truth, and yet Mary did not. She loved him.

“Hm,” Oeznik never forgot a conversation, and although Mary was important to Zemo, so, too, were Heike and Carl. Eight years of heartache and anger were not easy to forget. “You have reconciled your desire for revenge?”

Helmut’s eyes flashed toward Oeznik for a moment, burning at the memories, and then he sighed. “She was aware of her intended’s behaviors well before I told her.” Oeznik’s eyes widened as he continued. “Mary was only bound to him through duty and finance, not any form of love or devotion. She feels no loyalty to him.”

Oeznik smiled and clasped him on the shoulder. “Then it would be my honor to marry you.” Zemo leaned into the old man and hugged him. Oeznik chortled in surprise but supported his Captain as best he could.

In the evening, before the sun began to set, the couple prepared for their ceremony. Nervous butterflies fluttered in Mary’s stomach, but she was excited to see what he prepared for her. Helmut spent almost all day discussing and arranging with the crew, trying to keep some element of surprise for her.

Before he returned to their room, Mary changed into the sleek white negligee. She studied herself in the mirror and tried to remember all of her fantasies from two nights ago. Would Helmut find her breathtaking and charming as she dreamed, or would he not like what he saw as she feared?

You’re being ridiculous… Mary remembered the way he kissed her. Surely he would not touch her, tease her, thrill her, if he did not desire her. Helmut was respectful of her boundaries, never crossing the line, but edging close enough to tantalize her. Part of her wanted to know what would happen when he finally crossed that line.

Mary slipped the light blue day dress over the nightgown. She knew the cut of the gown would cover the delicate fabric, and she thought it would be a nice surprise for their night. He would unlace her dress, let it fall from her shoulders, then take in her form in the negligee. Perhaps he would kiss her first, pulling the pins from her hair as he did, and then—

—Helmut entered their room, startling Mary’s fantasies, and she sighed in relief when she realized it was him. He apologized, ever the gentleman, and she asked him to lace up her gown.

“In a moment,” he requested, “Allow me to clean up. I would hate to accidentally ruin your fine dress.”

Blushing as she held the top over her chest, and barely kept it from slipping off her shoulders, she waited for him to return. He did, and Mary felt his strong but nimble fingers at the base of her spine. His breath was warm on her neck, and his voice a whisper in her ear as he confessed. “Unlacing is more of my specialty, but I have experience and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

Mary leaned into his touch, and he chuckled against her. He was not even undressing her, he was lacing up her dress, and yet she found herself drawn to him. His every touch and word thrilled her.

“Have patience, Sternchen, not yet,” Helmut murmured. His mouth drew near the pulse point of her neck, and she wanted him to kiss it as he did before, but he withdrew with a pinch to her waist. He was finished with her dress, and he needed to tend to himself.

Playfully annoyed, she picked up his hand mirror and looked for somewhere to prop it up. Styling hair with one hand was difficult, so Mary found a spot on the nightstand where she could set the mirror and still see her reflection. Smartly, she kept all her hairpins from the Governor’s so she could recreate a seemingly delicate hairstyle.

Mary peeked at Helmut in the mirror. If Helmut could look at her undressing, could she not observe him dressing? He ferreted through several chests and trunks before humming excitedly and tapping his fingers against the wood. Mary watched with keen interest as he laid aside several dress shirts, coats, pants, and vests reminiscent of a Baron.

Meeting his inquisitive eye in the mirror, she gave her opinion. “I like the purple one.” Helmut smiled and held it up for her further inspection. It was a dark vest, the color of full-bodied wine, with gold buttons down the front. Sitting on the bed, Mary could not see the details, but she knew it was finely tailored. He would buy nothing less. She nodded approvingly at him.

“Then I shall wear it,” Helmut promised. He set it aside to create an outfit.

Mary returned her attention to her hair, wondering how her maidservants and her ladies ever fashioned her tresses. It was unruly and outright uncooperative no matter how many pins she placed, and she grew frustrated with it.

Helmut noticed her trying to pin a piece in place, and he watched as it fell again. She sighed in annoyance and started to try again. “Leave it down if it is bothering you,” he gently advised as he crossed the room.

She protested weakly, knowing it was a losing battle. “But I won’t look pretty if my hair isn’t up.” Admittedly, her hair did not look as she imagined with half the pins falling out, but she had been raised to believe a formal event meant her hair needed to be tamed and styled.

“This is a pirate wedding, Sternchen, not a society ball.” Helmut kissed her cheek and turned her face away from the mirror. “Besides, I think you are lovely, ethereal even, with your hair down,” he assured her in a low voice.

Taking his advice, Mary set about removing all the gold and pearl hairpins. Helmut dressed behind her, choosing a starched white shirt with ruffles near the wrist and collar. She took in a deep, steadying breath before picking up two pins and fastening her dark hair away from her face. On a ship, the wind was liable to blow in any direction. Mary at least wanted to be prepared.

“Handsome,” she turned over her shoulder and complimented him, “but I think you’re overdressed for a pirate wedding.” Helmut resembled a Baron. His white shirt was tucked into the black linen pants, and his purple vest was done up. Closer now, she could see the fine gold and silver embroidery.

Helmut demurred, “Really? And what, pray tell, should a pirate wear?” He stepped closer to her, sitting on the bed, trapping her against it. Stuck between his legs and broad frame, Mary’s heart began to race. However, she held her ground.

“A pirate’s shirt should be loose,” she reached for the top buttons of his vest and undid them. “Now everyone can see your strong chest and gold necklace.” So she could see it, more like.

Helmut laughed briefly, knowing she was doing this for her amusement. But, then again, so was he. Teasing her and pleasing her brought him joy, and he wanted to see where she would go with this ruse.

Mary pushed a lock of hair off his forehead and back, almost out of reach for her in this position. “A proper pirate should have a hat, the kind with a feather that flops in front of his face.” He stilled at her touch, his eyes reverent as her hand strayed to cup his cheek. “And jewelry,” she said definitively, “a pirate needs to be dripping in regalia.”

He took her hand cradling his cheek and kissed her knuckles. His lips were soft against her as he promised to follow her every word. Mary giggled on the bed, waiting to see what he would do. Helmut picked up the small chest of jewelry she stole from the Governor’s and handed it to her before picking up a similar container on another shelf.

“Reminiscent of your own words,” he quipped, “if you are to wed a pirate, then you ought to look like a pirate.”

She slipped on the rings and the bracelets with a grin, but she hesitated with the necklaces. The clasps were tricky, she remembered how difficult they were to secure, so she asked for his help. Clad in his heavy gold rings and necklaces, Helmut obliged.

“Now you look like a pirate,” he rasped in her ear. Mary held her hair out of his way, and his hands lingered. Her heart skipped a beat, and she feared he could feel it at the pulse point of her neck. His lips pressed against her, tender at first, then more insistent as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed down the smooth line of her neck and nipped near her collarbone.

A knock at the door broke them apart, and Mary anxiously pulled away from Helmut. Much like the sheet in the morning, she did not like the idea of being seen in a more intimate moment. As a delicate lady, she was not accustomed to the idea. Helmut, she quickly learned, did not shy away from public displays of affection.

“Captain!” She recognized Billy’s voice on the other side of the door. “Are you ready? It’s almost time!”

“Yes!” Helmut called back, “We will be there in a moment.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you ready?”

Mary checked her dress and her hair again, ensuring nothing was out of place, before nodding at him. “I believe I am,” she answered confidently.

He reached for his hat and sword belt on his desk. After all, he needed them to be an authentic pirate. “You look stunning, Sternchen,” Helmut complimented as he offered his arm to her.

She took it and reached for his steady hand. When she found it, calluses and all, she gripped it tight. He gave her a light squeeze before leading her to the deck. Mary looked to him for reassurance before stepping out, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a smile.

Outside, the crew of the Bloody Baron waited for them. Some sat on makeshift tables and chairs made of crates and barrels, and others stood. Candles lit the deck, but the sky was brighter. The sunset in the western sky was an array of pale pink, dark purple, and burning orange. It was endless and breathtaking.

“Go on.” Helmut nudged her toward the curved staircase on the left. Mary was reluctant to leave his side, but he squeezed her hand to give her courage.

She walked up the left staircase, mindful of every step, while Helmut ascended the right. Both were elegant in the vestments of their rank. They met in the middle of the quarterdeck where Oeznik waited for them. He smiled and greeted them in a low voice before clearing his throat to begin the ceremony.

“You may know this man as your Captain, but I have known him since he went by a name nearly forgotten now.” Helmut bowed his head in acknowledgement as he knew where Oeznik’s speech was going. Amongst the crew and many others in the new world, Helmut’s past was spoken in whispers and rumors, never confirmed. “Before he was ever Captain Zemo of the Bloody Baron, he was Baron Zemo of Sokovia. So when he found Lady Mary Eleanor Spencer in the wreckage of her ship, he could not leave her there.”

Mary’s cheeks flushed. Helmut must have told him her full name. She did not mind, it was fitting for their wedding, but how Helmut learned mortified her.

“It was only natural they should form a strong bond, greater than any of their ties to their past, so they may start a new future.” He looked expectantly at Helmut. “Would you like to say a few words?”

She admired the way his lips parted in thought and how the sun shone on all of his freckles. He radiated adoration like he wished to worship her.

“I would, danke freund.” Helmut stood a little straighter, bristling with pride. He wet his lips before speaking, and his voice was quiet, meant for her ears only. “For years, I was lost in darkness. There was no bright moon or glittering stars in the sky. But Sternchen, the light reappeared when I met you. ” His eyes, typically discerning and harsh when he stood on the deck, were warm and wide, softened with love when he spoke to her. “You, my little star, lit the way. You guided me to purpose and to hope.”

Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes, but she tried to blink them away. One started to roll down her cheek, and she sniffled as she wiped it away. Helmut took her hand before it could return to her side and held it.

“Mary, I vow to treasure you above all else.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze before speaking loud enough for the crew to hear. “I will love you, respect you, and protect you, and if I ever fail to do so you can cast me into the sea or desert me on an island.”

Some of the crew laughed at the idea of their Captain being marooned for being a bad husband, but Mary knew he meant every word. Helmut would never lie to her.

“Mary, would you like to say a few words as well?”

She nodded first, unsure if her voice would squeak or crack when she spoke. “I would, thank you, Oeznik.” Her voice did not fail her, so she continued. “Helmut,” Mary paused, wanting to find the right words, “were it not for you, I would be in a loveless marriage. I would be an ornament to my husband rather than an equal.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “You taught me to be brave, to go after what I want, to be my own person. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“Courage was always in you. I merely encouraged it,” he added, smiling indulgently.

“I promise to love you in every way I can. If I do not know how, then I promise to learn.” She was unashamed to admit there was much she did not know about love and relationships, but she desperately wanted to understand. Admitting her inexperience was the first step of learning, so perhaps that was another form of bravery.

“Helmut, do you have the rings?”

Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out two simple gold bands. Helmut, already holding Mary’s hand, slipped the ring on her finger. She plucked the other ring from his open palm and placed it on the corresponding finger. Their hands were already decorated with rings — gold and silver, rubies and sapphires, emeralds and diamonds — but these simple gold bands were far more meaningful and valuable than the rest combined.

“By the power vested in me as first mate, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Oeznik lowered his voice again, “You may now kiss your bride.”

Cheers went up from the crew when Helmut leaned in. His kiss was chaste but sweet. On his lips was the unspoken, bewitching promise for more.

They descended the stairs with entwined arms. As they passed, members of the crew clapped them on the shoulders and congratulated them. The sun hung low in the sky, the final golden rays reflecting across the water, and soon the candles and stars would be the only source of light. Helmut led her to a table and chairs set aside for them and pulled back Mary’s seat for her.

“Everyone,” at Sam’s encouragement they raised their mismatched cups of beer, wine, rum, or whatever suited their fancy, “a toast to the groom with a bride so fair, and to a bride with a groom so rare.”

Congratulations came in a mix of “here here”s, clapping, and stomping against the floor. Helmut and Mary thanked them profusely, raising their glasses of wine. He insisted on one of his fine, aged bottles for the night. Anthony laid all the food out on a table, and the crew waited for their captain to eat before they gorged themselves.

Helmut lifted his glass, his other hand holding hers, and smiled. He had a captain and baron’s innate ability to announce without unduly yelling, letting his voice carry instead. “Please, eat and enjoy. This is a night to celebrate!”

The music picked up, lively strings and drums, and they crowded around the dinner table. Helmut leaned close to Mary, his leg brushing against hers, as he rubbed smooth circles into the back of her hand. Ever the watchful Captain, he surveyed the scene on the deck.

“After all the re-routing and diversions, they deserve to have some fun for one night.” He joked, “It’s an apology for less fighting and raiding.”

Mary laughed, but she was curious too. “When will you return to business?”

He returned his attention to her and studied her expression. She knew he looked for fear or worry, signs that perhaps despite her desires she was afraid of a pirate’s life, but he found none. Smiling, he answered her.

“In a matter of days.” Helmut held his wineglass by the stem but did not drink from it, “We are going south now to pursue a lead, and I will sell what we have collected at port.” He shrugged lightly, “From there, I could not say.”

“That’s part of the fun, is it not? You can sail anywhere you want, whenever you want?” She thought of all the outlandish trinkets on his bookshelves and the places they must have come from. Perhaps she, too, could collect mementos from every outlandish location.

“Anywhere, as long as it is with you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Sternchen, allow me to bring you a plate. You should not be hungry at your own wedding.”

Helmut returned moments later, and as they ate Mary observed her wedding. People ate, drank, and were merry. The music was lively and rustic, the card games high spirited, and she knew the party would run well into the night. Every so often a crew member approached them, sometimes in a group, and congratulated them. Mary greeted each one by name and sincerely thanked them.

For once Helmut looked nervous, tilting his head and not a trace of a smile as he pressed his lips together. “I must confess,” he once again leaned close to her to be heard over the festivities, “I know it is not the wedding you dreamed of, but I hope it pleases you.”

“Oh Helmut,” Mary set down her fork and turned to face him. “It may not be the sophisticated church and lush gardens I always imagined, but I have something far better.” He perked up as she continued, puffing his chest, “I have a husband who loves me, which is more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“You can wish for whatever you desire, Stenchen, and I will grant it for you.” He drew closer, his face inches from hers, and his thigh pressing against hers. Mary wanted to ask him to kiss her again, as he had in the morning or before their wedding, but she did not. This was not the time nor the place.

Instead, Mary tipped her gaze up toward the stars and chose the brightest one. She did not know its name, but she knew Helmut would teach her if she wanted. “I wish to dance, husband.”

“Then we shall dance,” Helmut purred. His eyes were dark in the flickering candlelight as his pupils threatened to overtake the warm brown.

Helmut guided her by the hand to the makeshift dance floor in the center of the deck. Without asking, a space was cleared for them. She placed one hand on his shoulder, and he rested his on her waist. Mary held her open palm against his, but Helmut curled his fingers and linked them with hers. At the prompting of the band, Helmut made the first step and Mary followed his lead. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, but at the moment a dance was enough.

He was a gifted dancer, another facet of being raised a Baron, and they were graceful as they swept across the deck. Their gold and silvery jewelry glinted in the light, dazzling anyone nearby. Although Mary danced with at least a dozen men in London, none of them compared to Helmut Zemo. None could thrill her as him with light touches to her waist, his fingers holding her to him, his dark piercing eyes peering into hers, and the murmured words in her ear.

A folk dance followed the waltz, much more upbeat and uptempo, and Helmut’s hand slid steadily from her waist to the curve of her bottom as he pulled her closer to him. He glanced at her to see if she wanted the space between them again, but by her mischievous smile, he knew she did not. Even if she did not know how to verbalize her wishes, Helmut still knew to grant them.

After several songs, Mary leaned her head on his shoulder. She panted lightly against him, livened by the vigorous dancing, and he held her close. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear so he could whisper to her.

“Would you like to retire to our room?” Mary did not think she had ever been so close to him in such a state, she could feel his heartbeat near hers, and she craved more. She nodded against him, affirming his question.

“Go ahead. I will join you in a few moments,” he instructed. Helmut would exchange a few pleasantries and farewells before leaving for the night. Mary untangled herself from him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving.

Mary returned to their room, and in a frenzy, she flitted about the room. She dipped a washcloth in the water basin and washed what she could. It was a cool night on the deck with a gentle breeze, so thankfully she did not sweat too much. When she stepped out of the water closet, Helmut entered their room.

“Will you unlace me?” She gathered her hair over her shoulder and turned her back toward him.

“Of course.” Helmut was said he was far more skilled at unlacing a dress, and it showed. He swiftly pulled the laces until the shoulders of her gown threatened to fall off and her white negligee underneath was visible. His hands lingered for a moment at the base of her spine, but he left her alone to prepare himself.

Mary neatly folded her blue dress while he washed and changed. Standing in only her delicate nightgown, she felt both indecently exposed and nervous beyond belief. She remembered her mother’s hushed advice before she left to wed, and Mary took her advice.

First, she blew out the sconces on the wall, and then she extinguished the candlesticks on his desk. Then Mary drew the heavy red curtains to a close blocking out all star and moonlight. The only remaining light was on the nightstand, a trio of small flames, which she would smother soon enough. Mary settled herself into the bed sitting up against the pillows and tucking the sheets around her.

“What is this?” Helmut returned, rolling up the sleeve of his loose white shirt, and Mary’s eyes went wide. She worried she had done something to displease him, or he might be unsatisfied before they even began. “Why is it so dark?” He drew near the bed and picked up one of the candles, holding it near his face, so he could see better. “Did you do this?” The flame showed he was not angry with her but concerned. His brows knit together, and he frowned.

She nodded affirmatively, and he sat at the foot of their bed, the candle still in his hand. The hot wax dripped onto the catcher plate, but still, she feared a drop would spill onto him or her.

“Why?” It was a simple question, only one word, but one that troubled him. His hawkish eyes peered into her soul, somewhere between anguish and outrage.

“My mother said my husband would prefer darkness for the marital act, so I thought-”

“-Of course,” Helmut huffed, muttering a curse. Mary looked at him, her eyes wide with nerves and confusion, so he continued. “I would like to think it may not be your mother’s fault, it is misinformation mothers have given their daughters for generations, but in my life I have learned to know better.”

Unconsciously, she moved her hands to cover her stomach. He may have kissed her and told her he desired her, but she remembered her mother’s words of how her husband would dislike her stomach or her thighs or whatever else. Her instinct was to hide from him, to cover herself. Mary opened her mouth to speak, “Helmut-”

“-Sternchen,” He glanced from her shaky hands to her ashen face and sighed. “Please believe me when I say I wish to see you.” Helmut cupped her chin with the palm of her hand, forcing her eyes that had been avoiding his to focus. “I do not take the privilege nor the honor of being your husband lightly, and I do not wish for you to ever feel unworthy.”

She nodded, and he nodded at her in return. Helmut took the tallow candle and used it to relight the sconce. Muttering about it being better, now that warm light filled the room, he returned to their bed. He greeted her with a kiss, chaste at first, before pulling away. Mary leaned into him, not letting him draw too far away, and he chuckled lightly.

He kissed her again, deeper, more passionate, bordering on desperate. One of his hands cupped her cheek, holding her to him, while his other hand wandered. It started on her waist, visible above the sheets, squeezing every so often, before moving lower. Helmut sucked on her bottom lip and trailed his kiss along her jaw, making her pant as he reached the pulse point of her neck. He could feel her heartbeat race as his hand slid along her thigh over her nightgown and under the sheet.

Mary trembled under his touch, so Helmut retreated. He remembered what she said about her mother, and he knew mothers’ reluctance to speak honestly to their daughters about such matters. The last thing he wanted to do was coerce or manipulate her. “Mary,” his voice was soft and tender, “what do you know about sex?”

She hesitated, pressing her lips together in uncertainty. Helmut did nothing to embarrass her, but it was not a comfortable topic for her. He took her hand in his, rubbing circles against her knuckles, and she was comforted by the simple gesture.

“My mother told me the purpose of the marital act was to please my husband and to create children.” He nodded, letting her speak rather than interrupting her. “Her advice to me was for it to be dark, that I should be quiet, I must never correct my husband, not to be too eager, and I should never refuse my husband either.”

Helmut shook his head in disappointment. He was not surprised, he had been raised a Baron, but he was still disheartened. It was poor advice meant only to please the husband but never the wife. “Did you ever hear anything else?” Helmut was not naive. He knew women would still whisper of sex in their drawing rooms and parlors in hushed tones.

“Some of the ladies said it could be pleasurable with the right man,” Mary flushed a furious shade of red. “They did not say much more, just that their husbands were often unsatisfactory.”

He scoffed a laugh, glad some women figured that out at least. Helmut was pleased, too, that she heard something other than her mother’s awful advice.

“Oh, my sweet Sternchen,” he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “Sex is about more than producing children,” she nodded along, mesmerized by his eyes, “in fact, there are many activities which will not result in children. It is also more than a husband’s pleasure or a wife’s pleasure, it is about mutual enjoyment.”

Mutual. Mary wondered how Helmut felt when he kissed her. He was always so composed, but did his heart race too? Did he feel the same?

“May I show you one of the best ways a man can please a woman?” She nodded, but that was not enough for him. “Can you say it? I would like to hear you.”

“You may,” Mary answered. She could trust Helmut to check with her at every step, and she appreciated his attentiveness.

He instructed her to lie back on the pillows, and she did. Her eyes never strayed from him, curious as to what he would do next. Helmut pulled back the sheets, exposing her feet and the bottom of her nightgown, and she shivered against the sudden cool air. Slowly, he pushed up the hem of her negligee, and his fingers trailed up against her leg. Now exposed, she inhaled slowly as she watched him press a kiss to her abdomen. He moved down her body, and she squirmed.

One of his hands grasped her hip and held her there. “What I am about to do is commonly called oral sex. I am going to kiss you here,” he lightly ran one of his fingers over her, making her wriggle again, but his other hand held her in place. “Are you alright with this?” His molten brown eyes flickered to hers.

She remembered before when he asked her to answer aloud, so she did. “I am.”

The hand that traced along her moved to hold her other thigh, tighter than she would have expected. He started with little kisses and playful nips on her thigh, enough to excite her and almost beg him for more. By morning there will be dark bruises and marks, but neither one cared. Helmut was caught up in the moment, inhaling her heady scent.

He licked along her sex to prepare her. Mary swore she saw a mischievous smile on his lips before he twisted his tongue against her. His every touch was lightning, and she writhed under him at the striking pleasure.

“Helmut-” she gasped, grasping his sun-lightened hair. It was the only part of him she could reach, and she held on tight to him, curling her fingers in his locks. “What is that?”

“That, Stenchen, is your clitoris,” he chuckled against her, “and its sole purpose is for gratification.” Helmut rubbed it in circles with his thumb, watching how Mary stretched and groaned.

She panted, “More, please.” Mary craved that feeling like she needed to breathe. As with everything he did, it was addictive. She wanted more of him, more of his touch, more of his kiss.

“As you wish.” Helmut licked up all the wetness that seeped out of her, his tongue teasing against her entrance. She breathed unsteadily under him, but he wanted to make her fall apart. He yearned to make her pant, whimper, and moan. He longed to know what she would sound like when he brought her to climax, what she would feel like, and what she would taste like. He craved it all, desperately.

Helmut sucked on her clit, and on instinct, Mary rut herself against Helmut’s face. He relished this act of impulse. His tongue danced along her entrance again before diving in, pressing against her walls and tasting her sweet slick. She whined his name at this, and he moaned against her. Perhaps by groaning and humming against her, he could encourage her to release her own sounds.

He kissed, licked, and sucked every bit of his wife. Heat built in her core, sparked by the lightning of his touch, and he brought her closer and closer to the brink. The muscles of her thighs contracted and ached, threatening to trap his head between her legs. From the sound of his deep groan when she twitched, Mary did not think he would mind.

His lips returned to her clit and sucked hard, bringing all of his work to a climax. First were flickers of lightning, then came the thunder. Helmut was rewarded for his efforts with a gasping mewl.

“You are delicious,” Helmut grunted. He rested his head against her pillowy thigh, allowing them both to catch their breath. “Divine.”

Mary finally untangled her fingers in his hair. She caught her husband gazing at the apex of her thighs adoringly, and she smirked. Curiously, she wondered how long it had been since he last lay with a woman. Had it been his wife, Heike? Or had he found company on lonely nights? She could not blame him if he had, certainly not if some woman was able to ease his suffering and teach him a thing or two along the way.

“I want you.” She was still too shy to say exactly what she wanted, but he knew.

He laughed happily, meeting her eyes. “Not yet, Sternchen, not yet. I am afraid you are not ready for me.”

“Are you scared of hurting me?” Mary remembered her mother’s warning that her first time may be painful, but that it should not be too long. If she was tough she would endure.

Helmut sighed heavily, his fingers absent-mindedly tracing circles against her thigh. Already he could see dark marks forming from where he held her. He pressed a kiss on each one before answering.

“No matter how much I prepare you, there is still a chance it may hurt.” Mary nodded slowly against her pillow. She hoped her mother had been wrong about that as she had many other things. “I promise to be slow and do my best to be gentle, but you must tell me if you are ever uncomfortable.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, attempting to smooth down the mess she made of it. “I will, Helmut, I will.”

“I am going to start with my fingers. Is that alright?” He waited for her permission before continuing. “Can you take off that lovely nightgown? As pretty and enticing as it is, it rather gets in my way.”

Mary quivered at the cold of their room, but Helmut, who lay beside her, was warm. His searing hand cupped her breast, and his thumb stroked her pebbled nipple. To make the situation equal, Helmut removed his white shirt. His golden chain, nestled among the hair on his chest, glinted in the golden candlelight.

She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his hard muscle under the soft surface. His muscles jumped and flexed under her tentative touch, much like they did when she tended to his wounds, but this was different. This was not accidental, eyes and hands wandering, it was purposeful. Mary wanted to memorize every plain and angle of him.

Helmut rolled from laying beside her to straddling her. Mary could taste herself on his lips, and his plump cheeks glistened with her. He continued his kiss, following the familiar line along her jaw and neck, but he did not stop or pull away. He kissed his way to her chest and took one peak into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Refusing to let the other feel neglected, he flicked and pinched it making her huff.

“Sweet girl, did the pinch bother you?” Vehemently, she shook her head no.

Her hands twisted in his hair again, holding his mouth to her. As if he would willingly detach from her. The hand that fondled her breast strayed, stroking and prodding at her entrance. Slowly and carefully, he pumped his finger in her, using the wetness of her desire and his saliva to his advantage. Mary never felt anything like it before — it was so different from his tongue —, but she enjoyed it. Rubbing at her walls, he searched for the sensitive spots his tongue could not reach. By the intensity of her whimpers, Helmut knew he was close.

Cruelly, at least in her opinion, Helmut pulled his fingers away from her. He brought them to his lips, obsessed with the taste of her, and laughed when she pouted at him.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He dramatically smacked his lips. “But you are so sweet and so patient for me.”

Mary could not bear waiting any longer. “Helmut, please.”

“Remember,” he prompted, “any discomfort and you tell me.” He spoke quickly, rushing through the rest of his sentence, “And I must admit to you that I may finish rather quickly, but I would still like to please you.”

Mary was so eager she could hardly get the words out. “I promise, and do not worry about that. This will not be our last time together.”

Helmut enjoyed that: she did not say she doubted or she hoped it would not be, she knew. He unbuttoned his pants and shimmied out of them, leaving them on the floor, and slotted between her hips. Mary glanced down quickly at him, and she grew worried.

“Are you sure it will fit?” She had his tongue and his fingers in her, and as exhilarating as it was, she feared he would not fit. Helmut ceased his adoration of her neck, there would be several marks come morning, and rasped in her ear.

“I am sure, Sternchen, I have experience and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

“Then please, Helmut.”

He notched the head of his cock at her entrance. One of his hands found hers, holding it, while the other guided himself. He pushed in gingerly, waiting for the slightest word or expression of pain from Mary. She grimaced, taking a deep breath, but encouraged him. He prepared her well, but the stretch was still greater than anything she experienced before. Helmut muttered praise for her the entire time, raving about her beauty and how much he loved her.

Mary let out a breath when his hips met hers, and he groaned. “You’re so tight and wet,” Helmut buried his face in her neck, nosing through her hair. He continued to purr dirty praise in her ear, licking and sucking between phrases. His cold gold chain brushed against the top of her breasts, and she desperately wanted him to move. Her muscles tensed around him, making Helmut hum in pleasure. For a moment, he thought he would spill already, enveloped in the wet heat of her, but he steeled his nerves.

Slowly, he drew his hips back before pushing forward again. He fell into a steady rhythm, a push and pull, teetering on the edge of too much and not enough. Everything Helmut did, Mary wanted more. Her hands traced along his back, feeling the powerful muscles and healed scars move, and instinctively she tried to meet each thrust.

“More, please,” she begged. Helmut snapped his head up to stare deep into her eyes. He anticipated anything he did being too much for her, too painful, and yet Mary asked for more. His pupils dilated, overtaking the familiar brown, and something deep within him shifted when she made her request.

He began a brutal pace, hips sinking into hers without restraint. Mary cried out and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he struck deep, so he did it again and again. His strong frame pinned her to the bed, and there was nowhere else she would rather be. With one hand he pulled her thick thigh up and around his hip, angling her better for him, and the other toyed with her nipple.

“Does it feel good?” he growled, “To have a husband who loves you so dearly? Who would do anything for you?” John Walker would never have satisfied her, and she knew it. No one could please her as Helmut could.

There were no coherent thoughts in her head. Her answer was a mix of please, Helmut, and indiscernible babbling. It was music to his ears. Her fingers dug into his skin, her legs shook against him, and he knew she was close again. Helmut was confident her thigh would stay if he no longer held it in place, so he pushed his fingers between them to circle her clit. It was the final touch that pushed her over the edge, squealing his name.

Helmut maintained his tempo as well as he could, staying consistent for her orgasm, but she coaxed him to follow her soon after. He let out a choked moan as he spilled himself within her in stuttering thrusts.

He stilled, his cock starting to soften inside her, and Mary held him tenderly. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes and cupped his round cheeks with her hands. Helmut rested his body on her softness, running his hands over her plush curves, and squeezing when the desire struck him. When both their breathing steadied, he kissed her delicately. While he did not wish to leave her, he knew he needed to clean them so they could sleep.

“Is it like that every time?”

Mary could feel him chuckling, his chest moving against hers, and she laughed herself. “It can be however you wish, my love,” he assured her.

Eventually, he pulled his softened member from her. She missed the full feeling of him, but he explained it would not be comfortable for them to stay like that. Reluctantly getting off the bed, he wet a cloth in the basin to wash the two of them. His touch was gentle, not trying to overstimulate her, but to soothe her.

He offered her one of his shirts or her nightgown to sleep in, but she rejected it. Lying next to him was warm enough, and she wanted to feel him against her. When he blew out the remaining candles and laid back down in the bed, Mary rested her head on his chest. She heard his heartbeat and his steady breathing, and Helmut kissed her on the top of her head. Mary fell asleep, lulled by the rocking of the ship and the feel of her husband under her.

tag list: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @alindeluce

#daniel brühl fanfic #daniel bruhl fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfic #helmut zemo x reader #zemo fanfiction #zemo fanfic #zemo smut

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scumlafeccia · 2 months

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Coming from someone who was truscum in the 2010's, I think you being gendercrit and also chest dysphoric is a sign of some major cognitive dissonance and self-hatred that you really should talk over with someone outside of this hellsite. Doesn't necessarily mean you're trans—how you label yourself is entirely up to you—but you clearly have a complicated relationship with gender that will not be improved here.

That being said, I've been binding for years and can say with confidence that binders are very much a personal preference thing, so your mileage may vary with these suggestions:

Underworks: My absolute go-to for years. Their tri-top binders are my tried-and-tested favorite, but I also own a compression T-shirt from them that also binds pretty well, and I've heard good things about their econo binders as well. Sizes also go up to 3X, which is nice. The fabric can take some getting used to, being about three degrees of separation from trampoline material, but the arm holes being on the wider side makes up for that in my book.

Phluid: Honestly not sure if they even sell these anymore. I found mine in the back of a Spencer's, and I haven't found it online at all beyond a few websites talking about Phluid partnering with Spencer's to sell binders. That being said, the binder I picked up from them is surprisingly comfortable and binds incredibly well, so they're worth a shot if you do find one. Be wary though: they absolutely go by Hot Topic sizing. The sizes go up to 2XL and they run small. I'm a large in Underworks sizing, but an XL in Phluid sizing.

gc2b: More of an anti-suggestion. I never really liked their binders, and I've heard they've been using lower-quality materials in recent years. For me personally, the arm holes always felt too small for my comfort, and the fabric on the tanks had a habit of bunching up throughout the day (though this was about eight odd years ago so who knows). That said, they're the most fat friendly option that I'm familiar with, running up to 5XL, and have a wider variety of colors and prints. You'd probably be able to wear some of their tank binders out in public and just have people assume you were wearing a normal tank top. They might work out better for you depending on your preferences and circumstances.

In terms of general advice and suggestions: pick up a fabric tape measure if you don't have one already and take your chest measurements. If you wear bras already (like, ones with cup sizes) you might be able to guesstimate your chest size, but it's better to have more precise measurements for binders. Always, always check the size charts of any binder company you shop from to be sure you're buying the right size and, when in doubt, pick the larger size rather than the smaller one.

If the binder fastens with a zipper or clasp system, avoid it. Best case scenario, you're just getting a very low quality product. Worst case scenario, the pressure is being distributed very unevenly due to a flawed design that prioritizes profit over safety and you could bust a rib. No matter what binder you end up getting, don't do any strenuous exercise in it, try to stick to around eight hours of usage per day maximum, and hand wash those suckers (or at the very least use the delicate and cold water settings on your machine washer) to prolong the effectiveness of the compression material.

I hope this helps. Best of luck out there.

anon, you misunderstood. I have kind of figured out why I am dysphoric, and it's got nothing to do with being trans, even from a truscum point of view. I'm not looking to figure out my "relationship with gender" on tumblr, but I know that there's other women on here who are dysphoric and don't plan to transition, and I dont think it's bad to confront experiences. as for the binder suggestions, I've been keeping updated on tips on how to buy one since I was 14, and I'm not american so I'd need to look elsewhere anyway. thanks for the thought tho, that's appreciated

#answered

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makeit0utalive · 3 years

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#I think Spencer’s shirt might have a hole in it #Ice Nine Kills #Spencer Charnas #Ricky Armellino #Communion of the queued

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notanotherreidgirl · 3 years

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ok so imagine that u and virgin!baby boy Reid are roommates (you share an apartment and ur rooms are right next to eachother) and he can always hear u moan every night that you play with yourself, but he feels to guilty to do anything about his little ‘problem’. and suddenly one night he’s like super horny and jerks off, not knowing that you’re awake and can hear everything. you try to drown him out until you hear him moan your name, so you go to his room and slowly open the door so he doesn’t hear you and when he feels you on the bed he’s super apologetic but you’re like “it’s okay baby boy😏” and he’s like “please mommy let me make you feel good🥺” and even though its his first time hes so good and when you let him fuck you hes so whiny and needy 😩😩😩😩

We Shouldn't

Warnings: loss of virginity, masturbating, handjob, oral sex (male receiving), perv!spence, sub!spence, mommy kink, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 1444

A/N: I embellished a bit - apologies

Spencer made life or death decisions nearly every day. He had to carefully craft his words when talking down unsubs and be able to assess dangerous situations in seconds to decide whether or not to shoot someone but now, when faced with a relatively simple choice, he was completely stumped. He had been rooted to the spot for nearly 20 minutes, unable to process the sight before him.

In his defense, Spencer had very little experience with women’s underwear and certainly no experience with something like the lacy little number you had left in the dryer. At this point, he had spent so much time staring at you that he knew without a doubt that they were yours. He also knew that he most definitely should not be picking them up right now or putting them in his pocket or running out of the laundry room and back to his apartment without putting his clothes to dry. And he most definitely should not be stashing your panties in his bedside table. But, alas, should not is not the same as did not.

For example, he should not watch you from his window when you went off on your morning run clad in running shorts and a tank top. He also should not linger behind you in the stairwell, eyes glued to your ass as you bounded up the stairs. And he certainly should not listen to you get yourself off at night but he did, even going as far as to take down his framed map and press his ear up against the wall. Spencer’s only saving grace was that thus far he had managed not to touch himself thinking of you, the overwhelming guilt forcing him to take a cold shower instead. But tonight was different. Tonight the panties in his bedside table were beckoning him as he ate leftover takeout, calling his name as leafed through books he’d already memorized, burning a hole through the wooden drawer as he slipped under the covers and listened for you on the other side of the wall.

There’s no harm in just holding them, he reasoned. The next thing he knew the panties were out of the drawer and in his hand and his pants had somehow slipped to mid-thigh in the process. This could be fine. I’ll find a way to give them back tomorrow and no one will know.

And maybe, just maybe, if Spencer was a man of more restraint he would’ve gotten away with it but he was not. He could hear you getting ready for bed, singing quietly to yourself. It was oddly intoxicating to know that you were going about your business, completely unaware of him and convinced that you were operating within the privacy of your own home.

Except you weren’t ignorant of your next door neighbor. Thin walls worked both ways and you could hear his soft moans reverberating into your own bedroom. You sang a little louder to drown him out, guilt eclipsing your excitement. You had often wondered about the young doctor next door - always coming and going at odd hours, never meeting your eyes or bringing anyone back to his for the night. He was so nervous around you, it made you wonder if he’d ever been with a woman but you shook the thought from your head. I should not be thinking about my neighbor’s sex life or lack thereof.

Just as you resolved to go in the kitchen and leave him in peace you heard it. It was unmistakable. You stilled listening intently, half-convinced your imagination was playing tricks on you as it often did. But there it was again clear as day. “Fuck, Y/N”

You were an overthinker, always going over your options rationally and hardly ever comfortable with making spur of the moment decisions. But you were out of your apartment in seconds, using the spare key he had nervously entrusted you with weeks ago to slip into his place. A little voice in your head tried in vain to talk sense into you. You should not be breaking into an FBI agent’s apartment.

If only should not was the same as did not.

He had his back to you and you took the opportunity to perch yourself on the edge of his bed, the shift in the mattress finally alerting him to your presence. He whirled around in alarm and instinctively tried to hide himself and the stolen underwear, already soaked in precum and wrapped around his erection. You tilted your head slightly, trying your best to hide a smirk. “I thought I heard you calling for me”

“I-no-I can explain,” he flushed a deep scarlet, his futile attempts to conceal his predicament were only making it worse and there was no way he could come up with a plausible explanation with your eyes on him. The panic rising in his chest swelled - the feeling that he had ruined everything starting to trigger an overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry”

You softened your gaze, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his thigh. “It’s ok, baby boy”

Just then, something changed. A switch flipped, a light came on, a natural dynamic fell into place. Very gently you took his hand, forcing him to uncover himself.

“Wouldn’t you rather the real thing?” With that you trailed his hand up your thigh and to your soaked core, letting him skim his fingers over the wetness between your legs and take in the notable lack of panties.

“I-uh-yes, but-” he stopped for a moment, searching deep within himself for a shred of courage before blurting out the rest. “I’m a virgin”

Much to his surprise, you didn’t even bat an eye, instead, you sunk down on your knees and ran your hands up his thighs. “Well then, we’d better make this extra special”

You replaced his hands, taking hold of his cock over the panties and setting in with a deliberate pace before running your tongue over his balls. You toyed with the soft flesh until you felt his thighs tremble and the whimpers he had been trying to suppress spilled from his lips. Once you were certain he had abandoned any sense of restraint you started to suck on his balls, relentlessly pulling him into your mouth and teasing him with your tongue. At this point he was incomprehensible, any words he might have said being carried away by the sobs working their way up his throat and the tears streaming down his face. Just when you were sure he’d come you retreated, pressing sloppy kisses down his thighs and removing your hands from his cock.

He whined. “Please, Mommy. Let me make you feel good.”

You pushed yourself up and into his lap, taking your shirt off in the process and cradling his face in your hands. “You think you can make Mommy come?”

He nodded into your chest, capturing a nipple into his mouth and instinctively sucking on it. You guided his hands to your waist and you lined yourself up with his tip, slowly sinking down and adjusting to his size. He gripped your waist tightly, willing himself not to come as he watched himself disappear into you. “All right then, let’s see if you can be a good boy.”

Spencer sprang into action, taking hold and bouncing you on his cock as he rutted into you. Simultaneously he continued to latch onto your breasts, littering your chest with marks. You dug your nails into his shoulders, feeling the tide of your release start to sweep you away. “Yes, just like that, baby. You’re being so good for me. So fucking good. My good boy.”

Just before you reached your peak, you threaded a hand in Spencer's hair and pulled him up to look at you. Those big brown eyes stared up at you, pupils dilated and vision hazy with lust. “I want you to come with me, baby. Right now.”

It was like nothing you had ever felt before, pure euphoria coursing through your veins and only amplifying when Spencer flooded you with his warm release. He gave a few more shallow thrusts, whimpering from the overstimulation before the two of you collapsed back onto the bed. You shifted slightly so you could hold him in your arms without separating, brushing his hair back behind his ear as he buried his face into your neck, now overcome with embarrassment over his actions. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I shouldn’t have taken your panties”

You tightened your embrace and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s ok, darling. I’m glad you did.”

---

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#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #mommy kink collection #my beloved sub!spence with a mommy kink #sub!spencer #unsuitable for work

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

letting go

summary - when spencer comes back from prison, there’s no doubt he’s changed, especially in the bedroom.

warnings - cat-calling, inmates describing gross sex things, soft dom!spence, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, fingering, aftercare, bit of subspace, fluff. *let me know if i missed anything*

wc - 3,758

masterlist

-----------------------------

spencer had been gone for almost three months. in prison. he was in prison for three months. in hell for 84 days.

you had visited him as much as you could, remembering the times he would be bruised and beaten each time you would visit him. some days his bruises would be even worse than the previous time.

on your visits, the men in the back would holler and cat-call you. you didn’t mind, as long as you were able to see spencer. but spencer did mind. he minded that those criminals were thinking things about you that only he, as your boyfriend, should be thinking.

but he couldn’t do anything about it.

the few times he tried, he only got beat worse. he wanted to defend you, to let you know that he could protect your image, but inside of that prison he couldn’t. he had no power. he had no control.

you told him it was okay.

“i can handle a few whistles, spence,” you reached your hand across the table to gently stroke his knuckles. “it’s alright,” you tried to ease the obvious tension in his body.

“no. it’s not alright,” he softly argued. “you don’t even want to know what they’re thinking about right now,” he turned his eyes to the table, avoiding your gaze entirely.

“i don’t need to know. i just need to talk to you,” you whispered softly. “i just need you to know how much i love you.”

“i love you, y/n,” he finally met your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

when he would go back to his cell, or to eat lunch he would overhear people talking about you. talking about the things they would do to you. the things they were thinking about you.

“she’s got a fine ass, too. i would slam it so fucking hard, shit,” a large man groaned, recalling the image of you walking out of the building.

“i’d make dr. fbi watch while i did it, too. i don’t know how he got a bitch that looks like that,” another one replied.

he could only try to tune it out. most of the time it wouldn’t work. he would be doomed to the psychological torture of hearing them mention the crude things about you, unable to do anything about it.

so anytime you came to visit, he would have to mentally prepare himself for the worst. he wanted to see you, he truly did, but them saying those things about you made him want to restrict you from seeing him as a whole. but he loved you too much for that, and as selfish as it was, he needed to see you.

he needed your light heart. he needed your kind spirit. he needed your lifted energy. he just needed you. and if he had to do that while taking a bit of the names and annoyances, he would.

and you knew he hated it. so every time you visited him after the first time you would wear sweatpants and a hoodie or anything that would hide your figure. you wouldn’t wear makeup, you would try to look as unappealing as you could, just to try and make spencer more comfortable.

but it didn’t necessarily work.

the first time you ever visited him, you wore your normal work outfit. a charcoal gray skirt, a matching gray blazer, white button up blouse, and black heels. that was probably the worst it was for spencer. you heard them hollering from behind the glass, trying to get your attention. you played it off cool in front of spencer, in spite of feeling slightly uncomfortable.

he knew it made you uneasy, but you kept up your spirit for him.

the last time you had to visit was to tell spencer he was finally coming home. he thought it was just another visit, but he was also in private meeting room waiting to see you.

you could wear your normal work outfit to visit him again.

you walked through the door, a small smile on your face. your eyes began watering from the thought of actually being able to touch him again, to feel his arms around you. to feel his lips against yours.

“you’re coming home now, spencer,” you felt the tear leave your eye, now rolling down your cheek.

his face changed as he came to the realization that he was no longer trapped in that hell hole. his eyes went wide, watering just like yours had as he walked quickly over to you, enveloping you inside of his arms completely.

the first hug he’s had since he got transferred to the prison. he was glad it was with you.

his arms went around your waist as yours were over his shoulders, his face nuzzled in your neck, his sniffles muffled by your skin.

he relished in the smell of your shampoo, the feeling of your soft skin against his, the warmth of your body he’d missed for so long. he relished in your presence.

he pulled back long enough to press a firm kiss to your lips, his hands trailing up to cup your face softly. your hands held his arms right where they were, not wanting to let him out of your reach again.

“i love you,” he said once he left your lips long enough.

“i love you,” you returned.

the sweet paradise didn’t last for long because there was still the matter with cat. spencer was troubled with what was going on with his mom. stressed from the realization that he might lose her forever. he leaned on you even more during that time, needing your strength to help guide him through the hurt. you were more than happy to oblige.

once you had all found his mom, safe and sound, spencer was finally able to relax a bit. you both had decided to have a night in, just the two of you.

you turned on some soft music, and began making dinner together. you hadn’t had a moment to actually breath for so long, let alone spend quality time together in your shared apartment.

making dinner with him was mostly just you doing all of the work. it’s not that he didn’t want to help, he really did. he’s just not the best in the kitchen. besides, you’d rather have his moral support than him to help.

so as you hovered over the stove, stirring the sauce the pasta was just poured into, he wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into your shoulder and placing soft, gentle kisses. you turned around into his embrace, placing a kiss to his lips in return.

“it’s almost ready, bubs,” you said with a smile.

“smells fantastic,” he complimented. “but i’m also in the mood for something else right now,” he said with a mischievous grin.

“oh? and what is that?” you countered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i think you know what that is, darling,” he said, pressing a kiss to your jawline with a little nibble.

“how about we save that for after dinner, yea? i don’t want it to get cold and i’m hungry right now,” you shrugged, releasing him from your grip and turning around completely.

“well that doesn’t mean i don’t get to hold you while you finish up,” he argued, wrapping his arms around your waist again and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“okay, well you do that, sir,” you laughed, stirring the pasta once more. “actually, can you hand me the plates, please?”

“of course,” he complied, handing you the plates that were on the already set table. “here you are.”

you both ate relatively quickly, you weren’t lying when you said you were hungry. after cleaning up a bit, which was spencer’s job since you cooked, you had both settled on the couch and were cuddling while watching a rerun episode of doctor who.

he was laying his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your body protectively as you stroked his hair softly.

then, he ran his hands underneath your shirt slowly, stroking the soft skin on your waist. his hands gradually went higher and higher on your stomach until the were right underneath your boobs.

“spencer?” you giggled.

“hmm?” he mumbled, lifting the shirt to reveal your stomach and lightly kissing it all over.

“are you okay?” you asked, looking down at the man who was practically worshiping your body.

“hmm, i’m perfect,” he hummed against your body. he let his hands go higher on your body, grasping your breasts through your bra. you let out a breathy exhale from his touch.

his lips traveled to replace his hands as they traveled to your back, looking up at you for permission before he unclasped your bra. you nodded eagerly.

“i need words, princess,” he ordered, his voice deeper than previous.

“yes, please,” you squirmed, feeling the wetness pooling at your core as he undid your bra, revealing your chest to him as he threw it somewhere in the room.

when his lips finally wrapped around one of your breasts, his hand went to the other one, playing with it gently. his tongue toyed with your nipple, his teeth gently grazing it occasionally.

“oh my god,” you breathed out heavily, your hips bucking up towards him for any friction.

he brought his knee up to your core, giving you the perfect amount of pressure you needed. your hips ground against his knee quickly, begging for any kind of release you could get. his mouth switched breasts when he felt the other one was neglected. when he could tell you were getting close he snapped his knee away from your body, a low groan leaving your mouth.

“patience, princess,” he laughed against you, his mouth coming up to kiss yours fervently. “you’ll take what i give you, alright?” you nodded. “words,” he brought his hand up to wrap around your throat gently, not applying any pressure.

“yes, sir,” you moaned at this new found assertiveness.

it wasn’t that he was never ‘in charge’ in the bedroom. it normally just took a while for him to get there. besides, he had also told you before how he kind of liked it when you were in control of him. you liked it either way, as long as you were with spencer you loved it.

“i want you to go to the bedroom for me. you should be undressed by the time i go in there. no touching yourself. got it?” he asked, his hand moving from your neck to your chin, pressing it between his fingers.

“i’ve got it, sir,” you nodded eagerly as he allowed you to get up and make your way to the bedroom. you followed ever instruction he had given you, finding it even harder to not touch yourself while you waited for him. you sat in the center of the bed on your knees, facing the door.

after a few minutes you finally heard footsteps outside of the door. when he entered, he looked at you with such loving, caring eyes you weren’t sure what you had done to deserve him.

“princess,” spencer greeted you, “if you’re not comfortable with doing this you don’t have to act like it for me,” he said in his normal sweet tone as he sat beside you on the corner of the bed, his arm tracing down yours softly. “i need you to be totally and completely sure that you’re okay with this.”

“i am, spence,” you assured him. “i promise. if i don’t like anything i’ll say red like we normally do. i remember the stop light system,” you finished, leaning more into his touch.

“alright, i was just checking,” he leaned in, placing his free hand on the side of your face to bring you in for a tender kiss. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

“alright, princess,” he switched his normal tone into one of dominance. “ready?”

“yes, sir. i’m ready,” you agreed, clenching your thighs together to find any source of relief.

“good girl,” he leaned in, placing another kiss on your lips. when your hands went to wrap around his neck and in his hair he grabbed them in his own. “no. good girls ask for permission.”

“i-i’m sorry, sir,” you apologized. “i just-you’re so...” you trailed off.

“maybe i need to restrain these since you clearly have no control of them,” he wondered, moving to hold both of them in one of his hands.

“n-no sir, please. i’ll be good now. i promise,” you pleaded, trying to convince him otherwise.

“i don’t think so. sit against the bed frame,” he ordered as he moved to the closet to grab two ropes for your wrists. “now, maybe next time you’ll have half a mind to ask permission before touching me,” he began wrapping your wrists securely in the ropes.

“yes, sir,” you nodded sadly, your eyes reaching the bedspread.

“are these tight enough?” he asked as he pulled on one of the ropes.

“yes, sir. they’re tight enough,” you pouted.

“hey, princess,” spencer pulled his hand to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing your cheekbone as you nuzzled into his touch. “this is because you need to learn, alright? it won’t be forever.”

“alright, sir,” you smiled as he placed his lips to yours one more time.

“you’re my girl, right?” he asked as his hand began trailing down your naked body, tracing every curve you have.

“yes, sir,” you breathed out, goosebumps forming from his touch.

“mmm, you’re so beautiful,” he hummed as his hands traced from your hips down to your center, purposely missing the one place you craved his touch.

“please, sir,” you closed your eyes, hoping to feel his hand giving you some kind of relief.

“what did we talk about patience earlier?” he said as he moved his position on the bed.

“i-i take what you g-give me,” you recalled from your earlier conversation.

“so you’ll take what i give you now,” he said as he trailed kissed across your thighs in an upward direction. “i can’t even tell you how much i missed your pretty pussy. how often i thought about it late at night when i was alone,” he growled into your body. “i thought about,” he moved his hand to trail right above your clit, going all around it but never making any contact, making you squirm even more, “how responsive you are. i thought about how good you taste on my tongue,” he said as he trailed his tongue right over your entrance, a low groan leaving your mouth. “thought about that noise.”

“oh, god,” you mumbled as his tongue continued to move at your entrance, occasionally going in and out, eventually his tongue making its way to your clit and flicking it gently. “shit, yes,” your hips were nearly grinding against his face, your arms yanking at the bedframe.

the way he would groan into your pussy, just turned on from all the noises that emitted from your body was enough to send you over the edge as his tongue continued it’s attack on your clit. the only thing is, you needed permission.

“please, please, please, sir,” you begged.

“please what, princess?” he asked, his fingers taking his tongues place and continuing to move.

“please can i cum? p-pleaseeee?” you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes.

“cum for me,” he ordered. “show me how pretty you are when you cum,” he said as his lips connected with your pussy once more, finally sending you over the edge.

“fuck! yesss! oh my god,” you cried out as he worked you through the high.

the only thing is, he didn’t stop once you came down. he kept on going. he moved his fingers to your center and slowly pushed them inside of you, moving them rapidly in motion with his tongue on your clit. his fingers accompanied with his tongue and the way he moaned against your body was quick to bring you right back to that edge, you found yourself falling over it very quickly.

“oh my- please! can i cum? i’m so so close please?!” you begged once more.

“go ahead, princess,” he mumbled quietly against you.

you came with a string of ‘thank you’s’ as your hands pulled against the restraints violently.

“yesss, oh my god!” you yelled as you came down from your high once more.

“good girl, you’re doing so good for me,” spencer praised as his hands trailed up to your breasts, gently massaging them.

“mm, thank you, sir,” you relished in his touch.

“i’ve missed you so much, waiting to taste you like that again...” he trailed off. “waiting to be inside you again. to feel you cum all over my dick, god i miss that,” he growled.

“me too, sir. please,” you huffed out, squirming as he trailed kisses up your torso. “i-i want to feel you, please,” you pulled against the ropes.

“does my princess want to touch me?” he teased, trailing his hand down the side of your face.

“yes, sir. please!”

“since you’ve been so good, i’ll allow it,” he complied, finally undoing the restraints. you held your arms against your side as he massaged them, trying to bring the feeling back. “alright, princess. you can touch me now.”

“thank you, sir,” you said as you brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you so you could kiss him.

“on your knees,” you immediately rolled over to your knees, your ass waving in the air waiting for spencer. “good girl,” he chuckled, his hand tracing the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze.

before you knew it, spencer was pushing himself into you. it had been so long since you’d been with him, it felt like the first time you had been together. subtle whimpers left your mouth as he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“fuck, i missed your tight pussy,” he growled, his words causing more wetness to pool where the both of you met.

“it-it’s too big, sir,” you cried as he pulled back out slowly, only to push himself inside once more. “ah!”

“take it, sweet girl. i know you can take it,” he bent down to moan into your ear as he slowly thrusted into you again. “uh... just like that, princess. just like that,” he groaned. his hands found your hips, guiding them onto his cock even with his thrusts inside of you.

“oh my god,” you huffed as your face began to turn into the bed, the pillows and sheets muffling your sounds. “fe-feels so full.”

“you’ve got it, sweet girl. be my strong girl, alright,” he said, noticing the way your head nodded in the pillows. he trailed his hand up your back and grasped your hair, pulling your body up to meet his. “words, princess.”

“yes, sir. i-i’m so s-sorry,” you stuttered out, your head leaning back on his shoulder as his hand trailed down the front of your body. his thrusts only sped up the longer he stayed inside you. “oh, yes, yes, please!” you begged, not sure what for.

“what is it? huh?” he moaned in your ear. “want me to cum inside of you? or do you want to cum all over my dick? which is it?”

“bo-both, sir. please!” you confirmed as he quickly pulled out of you just to flip the both of you over so he was on top of you.

his hand found its way to the crest at the center of your body, doing rapid yet gentle strokes to get you just where you needed to be. before you knew it, your third orgasm of the night had come and gone. your arms went around his waist and neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. the warmth and pulsing of your pussy helped pull spencer over the edge soon after you, his release inside of you being something you didn’t know you missed so much.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” he groaned as he fucked his own release back into you. “so good, y/n. you’re so amazing,” he praised, pulling out of you as you whimpered from the overstimulation

“spencer?” you asked, feeling a bit hazy.

“yes, princess?” he asked as he rubbed gentle circles on your hips.

“mmm, i love you,” you smiled dizzily.

spencer noticed that look. the glazed over eyes, the way your smile seemed slightly faded. he knew exactly what to do for that, too.

“i love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled, placing a kiss to your forehead. “why don’t we get you cleaned up, yea?” spencer’s hand found your hair, gently running his fingers through it.

“shower with me?” you asked, your hands trailing his jawline ever-so-softly, barely ghosting over his skin.

“of course, y/n,” he agreed, getting up so he could guide you to the bathroom.

he gently sat you down on the toilet as he started the bath just how you liked it. he made sure to add lavender epsom salts to soothe your muscles, which were more than likely sore from the night’s activities. he added a few essential oils which were good for anxiety, worry, and body aches just to be sure.

“alright, sweet girl. ready for the bath?” he looked over his shoulder to find you practically on top of him.

“yes, sir,” you nodded.

spencer sat behind you as you leaned onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist as his palms rested against your stomach. you interlaced your fingers with his on your stomach as your head tilted to lay onto his shoulder.

“i missed you, spencer,” you broke the comfortable silence. “a lot.”

“i missed you too, y/n,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“can i ask something?”

“anything.”

“what was that tonight?” you asked. “i loved it, don’t get me wrong. it was amazing. it’s just... you normally aren’t like that.”

“well,” he sighed. “i guess it’s because every time you would visit, the other inmates would say things. like... really bad things about you,” he felt tears welling in his eyes from the memories. “and while i was in there, i couldn’t do anything about it. so i guess i was just a bit pent up from the frustration, is all,” he shrugged.

“i’m sorry, spence. but,” you turned to look him in the eyes. “you’re not there anymore. no matter where your mind might take you, you’re here. you’re back with me,” you wiped the tears that he didn’t even know fell as he mirrored that of yours.

“i’m so happy to be back,” he pressed your foreheads together, not breaking the eye contact.

“i’m never letting you go again.”

#post prison spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer x reader #spencer smut #mgg #mgg smut #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n

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spectaclespencer · 3 years

Text

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I��d love to go out with you.”

-----

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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

Text

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest.

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

“Getting excited there, baby?”

Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

“I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

“Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

“Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?” Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

“What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

“P-Please,” he stutters out.

“Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

“I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

“Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

“Does… Does that bother you?”

I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

“Does what bother me?”

Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

“Why would that ever bother me?”

Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

“I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

“First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

“I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

“Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

“No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

“N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

And there it is.

I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

“He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

“No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

Until now, apparently.

“I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

“I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

“And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

“Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

“Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

“More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

“Something special?”

I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

“Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

“Y-Yeah?”

I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

“Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

“Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

“I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

“N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

“That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

“I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

“You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

“I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

“Y-Yes, Miss.”

I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

“It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

“M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

“I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

“W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

“No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

“You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

“I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

“Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

“Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

“Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

“N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

“Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

“S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

“Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

“I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

“Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

“Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

“What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

“So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

“Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

“Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

“S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

“D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

“Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

“What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

“Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

“You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

“D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

“What about you? You didn’t . . .”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

“You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

“I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

“Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

“T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

“I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

“Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

“Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

“I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

“This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

“Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

“Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

“A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

“I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

“I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

“It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

“What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

“Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

“See you on Monday, Pen.”

“W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

“You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

“Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

taglist: @90spumkin @moon-light-jukebox @jessalyn-jpeg @pinkdiamond1016 @itsametaphorbriansblog @eldahae @itsmytimetoodream @kasaikawa @shadyladyperfection

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #sub!spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #mgg #spencer reid imagine

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wolfprincesszola · 2 years

Text

Spencer Reid at the Pool HCs

Hi, I’ve come out of my hermit hole to post something else before shelling back into it. Since I recently started to swim again to pass this swim test I have to do for my summer school, I was thinking about headcanons and for some reason, Dr. Reid was the first one to come to mind. Hope you guys enjoy! For more, please check out my masterlist, fandoms, shared blog, shared blog discord (anyone can join), and requesting rules. If you want to request, please feel free to request on this account or on my shared blog. Thank you and have a great rest of your day! ————– Trigger Warnings: None

Content Warnings: None ————–

As a Friend

He doesn’t like going into swimming pools because of two reasons

The first one is more prevalent but he always says how there are “so many germs in the pool” and how he doesn’t want that anywhere close to him

The second one is that there have been way too many cases of drowning in a swimming pool, so he wants to stay out to prevent himself from any danger

No one in the team really pushes it until you join the BAU

You move into a new apartment complex that has a sick swimming pool

You ask everyone if they want to join in on the fun on a day after a really hard case

Knowing that everyone’s kinda tired of cases and deserves a break, Hotch almost forces everyone to go

Spencer goes begrudgingly with swim trunks but doesn’t plan to go in

Everyone KNOWS he has a crush on you and they watch him crack and almost bend as soon as you ask him if he’s going to join you guys in the pool

He still refuses and he almost cracks again as soon as he sees your disappointed look

“Sorry, L/N” He tells you

You realize that he thinks that you’re genuinely disappointed in him and you quickly go reassure him that you’re okay that he doesn’t want to go in

He watches you play with the rest of the team in the pool

While he’s mesmerized with watching you, Morgan sneaks up behind him and pushes him into the pool

(Luckily everything valuable was stored to the side and he was wearing swim trunks)

As soon as he goes it, he sputters and you help pull him up

“Woah, wonder boy, I’ve got you” You almost laugh at how different Spencer looks

“Thanks” He gives a small smile as he clears his throat, standing up

Since Morgan pushed him in at the shallow end, the water only goes up to about his waist

You would like to say you’re completely unphased by the fact that he has to take off his shirt while being in the water, but that would be a complete lie

You get a little flustered, enough for Prentiss to notice but not enough for everyone else to

You ignore the nudges your friend gives you

Spencer decides that SINCE he’s already in the pool, he might as well stay there and hang out with you before he gets out and showers so he doesn’t get sick

Although he does reject the idea of playing any other game, he does give in and play Marco Polo

He’s too embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know the rules when Morgan asks if everyone knows the rules

He doesn’t understand at first and has Garcia start off

She starts saying “Marco” and he looks at you helplessly as you swim away from Garcia

Seeing Spencer’s helplessness, you just pull him along and once you get far enough away you start yelling “Polo” at the top of your lungs

He follows soon enough and after a couple of rounds, he gets the hang of it

He locates you immediately after he gets tagged

It’s a lot of fun

He also plays chicken fight with everyone

You and Garcia team up while Morgan and Reid team up

You managed to push Spencer off SEVERAL times

Mainly because he has no sense of balance and Morgan enjoys watching Reid flub in the water for a few seconds before going to help him

They have no team coordination but at least you and Garcia do

After everyone’s all tired out, you cover yourself with a towel

Spencer catches up with you and you two have a fight with splashing each other with your wet hair

After that day, he is more willing to get into the pool if it meant he got to spend more time with you

As an S/O

You and Spencer don’t have a lot of time to have dates, but on days you do, you try to make it memorable

You ask if Spencer wants to go to the pool and through some convincing, he does admit that he kinda does

It’s been so long since he went and swam, especially with you

He did ask how you two were supposed to do the games you usually do with the group with only two people

You don’t know how to answer that, so you shrug and just go “We’ll see”

When you get to the pool, you notice Spencer has a new swim shirt

“Did you get that just for today, love?” You ask, almost hiding a laugh

Spencer flushes, “I was insecure and didn’t want you to see me shirtless”

It almost makes you laugh as it wasn’t like you haven’t seen him shirtless before

You’ve had to apply tourniquets and quickly bandage wounds on him while he was shirtless

Not only that, but he never had a shirt on before

But you don’t really mind

You just jump in the water and ask if he wants to race to the other side of the pool

He had never been on the deep end of the pool, but you assumed it would be no trouble for a six foot tall man

He was the same height as the water and you thought he knew how to tread water

However, Spencer kept refusing, almost throwing a fit to not do it

After some prodding, he finally admits to you that he’s never actually learned how to swim

You laugh but offer to show him if he wants to

He nods meekly and you first try to teach him freestyle

You make him wear pool floaties just because you think they’d look adorable

You coo over how he looks in the floaties and his unamused face reflects what he says to you “This is condescending”

He knows it’s in good fun though

He gets the hang of the kicking pretty easily but he does look like a 5 year old kid flopping in the water while he does that

You show him the strokes and he almost sinks to the bottom of the shallow end upon trying

You have to hold him up and by the end of your date, he’s able to swim half a lap on the short side of the pool without your help

He does apologize to you since he did take up all the date time but you tell him that this was better than anything you could’ve come up with

“I’m glad I’m able to teach you something. You’re always showing me so many new things and I feel like you’re always the one teaching me something. I’m glad that I can finally return the favor at least one.”

Your next few dates are ones to help him with freestyle and to teach him breath stroke

Soon enough he’s able to race with you to the other end of the pool and he goes to the deep end for the first time

The first time you teach him how to tread water, he panics and almost drowns

He doesn’t go back to the pool for a full two months

However, after some convincing by the whole team, he did finally go back in

The team showed him a better way for how to tread and Spencer shows off his new swimming skills proudly

He’s very grateful for you

As a Father

The first time you guys go to the pool together is when your child is 5

He stays at the very edge of the pool near the staircase with your child

You do go in though

The first few days, your child stays at the staircase as Spencer tries to pass on his knowledge of swimming down

He tells your child everything you said word for word in hopes that your child understands it in the same way he understood it

He does, however, leave out the bits of laughing at the failures and the couple of swear words that you told him that day you first taught him

He puts his feet in the water a couple of times, especially after your child first starts to get the hang of swimming

He will actually kill you if you pull him in, but the day you do pull him in, none of his threats are acted upon

He helps your child with putting on goggles while you help your child with the technicalities of swimming

You praise your child by saying that they got it so much faster than Spencer

You have to hold in your laugh to not give it away that Spencer was death glaring you from the other end of the pool

When you feel tired, you get out of the pool and sit next to Spencer

You and Spencer just talk and hold hands together while you two watch your child endearingly

You make an effort to have those moments every so often, especially when your child almost begs you guys to go to the pool

This was actually longer than I thought it would originally be. It only took up like 3 lines in my notebook when I was first brainstorming it during class.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid Criminal Minds #gender neutral reader #y/n #fluff #i love him <3 #bau reader #reader #agent!reader #derek morgan mentioned #emily prentiss mentioned #penelope garcia mentioned #am i dysfunctional because i can't stick to first or last names for everyone #yes but at least i put the fun in dysfunctional #aaron hotchner mentioned #father!reid #Headcanon

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

i can't forgive me & you can't forget

Summary: Spencer is happy that his boyfriend is as compassionate as he is, but watching Derek do everything he can to help Strauss with her alcoholism when he stood by and did nothing back when he was struggling with his dilaudid addiction is beginning to take its toll.

Tags: hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst, insecurity, est. rel., hurt/comfort, cuddling & snuggling, angst w a happy ending, fluff TW: referenced past drug use, addiction, and overdose, implied/referenced alcoholism

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // The other fic in this universe

Inspired by @marisatomay’s post here!!! The title is from the second part of the poem Betrayal by Lang Leav.

It’s pushing ten pm by the time Spencer finally hears the front door open and close with a soft click, hears the rustling of Derek ditching his leather jacket on the crowded coat rack and toeing off his shoes — no doubt placing them neatly at the side of the hall like he always does — and listens to his footsteps as he nears the bedroom where Spencer’s been holed up since Derek left.

“Hey, baby boy,” Derek says with a warm, relaxed smile, his fingers already working on undoing his shirt buttons, before digging through their wardrobe to find a more comfortable top.

“Hey.”

Spencer watches him with tired eyes. He’s been feeling as hurt and despondent as he does this evening for weeks now, but tonight is the first time he doesn’t have the energy to hide it. He’s spent the entire afternoon in bed, and he’s certain it shows in the imprints of the creased pillowcase on his cheek and his messed up hair, and where just a couple of days ago he’d rush to hide those tells, he simply doesn’t care enough anymore.

Derek turns around from the wardrobe and shrugs off his shirt, replacing it with a soft blue t-shirt Spencer’s always liked on him. “Have you had anything to eat yet?”

Spencer shakes his head. Derek undoes his belt and switches his trousers for a pair of grey sweatpants before walking over to the bed and climbing onto the mattress, grinning cheekily as he rolls over Spencer’s body and leans down to press a tender kiss to the tip of his nose.

It’s sweet and romantic and so painfully normal, and maybe that’s exactly why he suddenly finds himself swallowing back tears. He’s hardly spent any time with Derek outside of work in weeks and he’s hurt and sad and struggling, and it’s only making it worse that his loving and attentive boyfriend hasn’t seemed to notice. Really, Spencer knows he needs to communicate, and that a significant part of his pain is his responsibility, but the shame—

“Well that just won’t do,” Derek murmurs, interrupting his thoughts as he brushes his fingers over a lock of curly hair resting on Spencer’s temple. “I’ll go and make you something. Or we can order in? What do you fancy?”

Spencer shrugs, looking away. He’s not trying to be difficult, it’s just incredibly hard to think about food and a relaxing night in with your partner when you feel like your insides are splintering and you’re just barely holding yourself together.

Even without looking directly at his face, Spencer can see Derek’s brow furrow and his happy expression fade, and soon enough Derek’s fingers are at his chin, gently moving his head until he’s looking at him again. “Hey, pretty boy,” he says gently, looking so concerned it makes his chest ache, “what’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on in that big old head of yours.”

So much of him wants to give in and tell him everything, wants to spill his fears and his anxieties and his anger and his shame onto the sheets of their bed and lay it all out for him. He wants to shout, “See? This is who I am! This is all my mess and my pain and my regret! Look at it!”

But he can’t. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to meet the swirling worry in Derek’s deep, beautiful brown eyes and he wills himself not to cry. “Nothing,” he lies. “I’m just tired. Hungry.”

He knows Derek doesn’t believe him, but there isn’t much he can do if Spencer isn’t willing to communicate, so he nods reluctantly and leans down to place a kiss on his forehead this time, lingering there for a moment longer than he usually does. The feeling of his boyfriend hovering over him and asking him what’s wrong and kissing him so tenderly is all Spencer’s craved for weeks, but now it’s here, he still feels sad and empty and hollowed out by shame and bitterness, desperate for something more without so much as an idea as to what exactly more might entail.

“I tell you what, I’ll go make you some tortellini, alright? There’s a pack in the fridge and it only takes a couple of minutes so I’ll be back before you know it,” Derek promises, and Spencer can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Regardless, Derek hops off the bed and heads out to the kitchen, leaving Spencer alone in the softly lit bedroom. He pulls the duvet further up to his chin and buries his face in it, the soft fabric gentle on his skin, and the comforting scent of Spencer’s shampoo mingling with Derek’s cologne settling him slightly.

Derek had spent the afternoon with Strauss at the rehab centre. And not for the first time.

The problem is, how can Spencer be mad at him for that? Really, it’s the epitome of his character: genuine, constant, unconditional compassion for everyone around him, no matter who they are or what his history with them might be. Of course he’d see Strauss struggling with her addiction and swoop right in, getting her settled in at the centre and spending hours with her on visiting days, fighting alongside Hotch to persuade the director to let her keep her job.

But watching him leave every week, watching him text her encouraging messages, hearing him talk about her progress and recovery… it strikes a nerve deep inside Spencer. He isn’t proud of how he feels. He knows it’s petty and illogical, but he can’t help it.

Because somewhere deep in his soul, an old version of himself, a sad, lonely, scared, addicted-to-dilaudid boy is crying out, why didn’t you do that for me?

It’s that question that really plagues him. They’re called into work the next day for a fairly interesting case in North Dakota, and there are some fairly strong links to the world of academia, so usually, Spencer would be all over it, reeling off facts and statistics and reaching out to his contacts to further the case. But for some reason, he just can’t get his head in the game.

He finds himself zoning out on the jet and wandering off at crime scenes without even knowing where he’s going. Initially, his team had assumed that he was thinking, or was going somewhere deliberately that might help them with the case, they’d all counted on Doctor Reid to come up with some brilliant theory to bring them closer to catching their unsub.

But Hotch had quickly realised that his head was somewhere else and kept him close to his side from then on. At least staying at the police station with Hotch and being tasked with reading through the unsub’s literary work and constructing a geographical profile both gives him something specific to focus on, and — as much as Spencer hates to admit it — keeps him away from Derek.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Hotch asks gently when they both find themselves at the coffee pot in the late afternoon. He doesn’t look over at him, his eyes focused on the stream of coffee and creamer headed straight for his mug. Spencer knows it’s a tactic to make him feel less ambushed and more relaxed, but that doesn’t stop it from working.

“No,” he says honestly.

Hotch nods in acceptance. He puts a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezes briefly. “Well, you know where I am if you change your mind.”

Both JJ and Emily eye him suspiciously throughout the case as well, but no one is more confused and concerned than Derek. Spencer tries not to think about the irony.

“Baby, what’s got you all distracted like this?” Derek asks softly when they’re finally alone in their room that night, full up from the rushed dinner they’d all had in the lobby before crawling to their rooms for a couple of hours’ sleep before the manhunt continues in the morning. “This is so unlike you and you know it.”

Spencer doesn’t reply, just continues quietly changing into his pajamas before brushing his teeth and washing his face. Derek’s still sitting in the same position when he comes out, looking frustrated and contemplative, and Spencer feels guilty for making him feel this way, but he just doesn’t know what to do. He can’t act like everything's okay because it isn’t, and he’s tired himself out from pretending that it was for weeks, now. But he can’t tell him what’s going on either.

The thing is, how is Spencer supposed to admit that he’s still hurt over something that happened almost five years ago now? And how is he supposed to admit that Derek doing the right thing is only reopening wounds he’d tried so hard to heal and close? That both Derek and Hotch had specifically helped him heal and close?

He doesn’t know how to verbalise his feelings without sounding petulant or pathetic, so he doesn’t. He keeps them buried deep inside him and hopes desperately that no one comes digging.

“I’m fine, Derek,” he lies again, leaning down to kiss him gently before rounding the bed and crawling under the covers. “Just having an off day, I guess.”

Derek sighs but doesn’t push any further, clearly knowing a lost cause when he sees one. Instead, he follows in Spencer’s footsteps and gets ready for bed silently, whispering a quiet good night before switching off the lamp and climbing into bed on the other side.

It feels like the expanse of white sheet between them goes on for miles.

It’s the first time Spencer’s regretted Hotch’s decision to continue letting them share a room.

The question continues to plague him over the next week. He gets marginally better at pretending he’s not falling apart at the seams, and it’s enough to make almost everyone back off, but Hotch is still concerned and Derek is still confused, and he can feel himself drifting further away from the team each day, as though his rope tying him to the others has been cut, and now the current is having its way with him.

Nothing much changes. He continues in his hurt and lonely quietude, and Derek continues to ask what’s wrong, sighing sadly when he gets nothing out of him, and they exist in tandem.

It had always felt — ever since the beginning of their relationship — as though their relationship was a salsa dance. They were tangled in one another’s lives, both physically and emotionally, and they existed in this relaxed kind of ease that Spencer’s only ever seen before in long-term relationships. They’d fallen into a lucky, easy kind of love, and it was never as much work as everyone had promised him a relationship would be.

They’ve been together for four years, and their worst fight was over whether the cheese grater went in the cupboard next to the sink or above it. (Granted, it had spiraled into some other disagreements that came along with cohabitation, but. Still.)

Spencer knows he’s introducing a dynamic they’re unused to, and he hates it. Guilt plagues him, mingling with his shame and sadness until he’s drowning under the weight of it, no way to claw himself to the surface to take a breath.

They exist on parallel lines: next to one another; yet never crossing over. Their relationship is no longer a salsa dance.

The next off-day they have, Derek can’t get out the door fast enough. “I’m off to visit Erin,” he tells Spencer, and it still makes him irrationally angry that he’s stopped calling her Strauss and now refers to her like a friend.

Is it better that Strauss is now Derek’s friend? Him helping someone he actually cares about makes him not caring about Spencer all those years again slightly less of a gut-punch, he supposes. But the fact that Derek and Strauss of all people are becoming closer while he and Spencer drift apart hurts in a way he can’t even begin to explain.

This time, he spends the entire day crying. Every time the tears slow down and he catches his breath, another wave of grief and pain and anxiety and shame and jealousy crashes over him, and all of a sudden he can’t breathe again. It’s an exhausting cycle, and by the early afternoon his stomach muscles are aching and his ribs feel bruised.

It’s also the first day he gets a craving.

He’s an addict, right, he’s had periods of intermittent cravings over the years, that’s completely normal. Sometimes, even thinking about it in passing is enough for the itch to come back, to whisper the number of his old dealer in his ear, to recall in both his physical and mental memory the feeling that came with each press of the syringe.

This is the most intense one since his withdrawal immediately after waking up in hospital following his accidental overdose in his parking garage. It’s so intense that it scares him.

Crying harder than he thought it possible, he fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and — fighting the temptation to type in the digits of his dealer — he dials the number he’s had memorised since he was nineteen. He can’t speak through his gut-wrenching sobs, but he knows the sound of him crying this hard will be enough, so he lies in bed and continues his pity party until he hears the front door swing open and the rapid steps through the hall.

Soon enough, Hotch is pulling him into his arms and he finally feels a little less alone.

Hotch lets him cry himself out, and only when his tears have dried up and the hiccups have subsided does he say anything besides the reassuring murmurs he’d spoken into Spencer’s ears as he cried.

“Spencer,” he says — somewhat desperately — “please. You have to tell me what’s going on. Let me help you, okay? Whatever it is, I’m here. I won’t let you suffer on your own anymore, I promise.”

Spencer doesn’t raise his head from its position buried in Hotch’s t-shirt, but he does finally say something. He doesn’t know what overrides the shame that’s kept him quiet — maybe it’s the exhaustion or the loneliness finally winning out — but whatever it is, he’s glad it does.

“I had a craving today,” he whispers, because it seems like a good place to start. “Haven’t been feeling good since, uh. Since… Strauss.”

It’s hopelessly phrased, but it’s the best way he can explain it and Hotch, being the miracle profiler and father figure of Spencer Reid, figures it out instantly.

He feels the way he slumps slightly, hears the tired, frustrated sigh, and knows he’s probably beating himself up for not figuring it out sooner.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just… I couldn’t. I didn’t know how.”

Hotch shushes him. “You don’t need to apologise for that, Spencer, don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry for being so blind, and I am. I hate that you’ve been suffering like this and we’ve all been too stupid to realise why.”

“It still, it still hurts,” he says quietly, sadly, regretfully, “it still hurts that no one helped me until it was almost too late. But everyone dropped everything to help Strauss— I’m sorry, it’s so selfish, I shouldn’t be—”

“Hey, Spence,” Hotch interrupts him, caressing his arm gently. “It isn’t selfish. It’s human. And you’re right, we should have helped you sooner and it’s always been my greatest regret that we didn’t, and that because of that dereliction of duty, we almost lost you.”

“I’m not, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or anything—”

“Spencer, I know that. But you need to stop feeling guilty for how you feel, alright? It makes complete sense that this is bringing up both the feelings of rejection and betrayal, and also cravings for the drug you were addicted to at the time. It’s so obvious that I don’t know how I didn’t see it earlier.”

Spencer nods, but he doesn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. “Derek’s been visiting Strauss on our days off,” he admits quietly. “I’ve barely seen him for almost a month now, and that— it isn’t helping.”

“I can understand that. Have you talked to him about any of this?” he asks, even though Spencer’s sure Hotch already knows the answer.

He shakes his head.

“I know it’s hard, Spence, I really do, but I think you need to talk to him. Obviously, it would’ve been better if both he and I had figured it out without you having to tell us, but clearly, he isn’t going to realise by himself. I know that as soon as you explain it, he’ll understand completely.”

Spencer sighs. Some part of him had known this was coming, he just didn’t know how it would come about. He wouldn’t have put money on Hotch being involved, but maybe he should have done. He always seems to come to Spencer’s rescue.

“He’ll probably be out for a while. He usually stays out for hours when he goes to visit her.”

“Well, how about I stay until he comes home, and then you can talk to him? How does that sound?”

Spencer looks up at him. “What about Jack?”

“He’s out with a friend and their family anyway,” Hotch reassures him, smiling as he runs a hand down his arm. “Now how about I make you some tea and we go and sit on the sofa?”

Spencer reluctantly agrees and moves from the safety of his bed to the comfort of his sofa, but he has to admit that the light streaming in from the big bay window and the feeling of sitting up makes him feel just a little better straight away. Once Hotch is back and placing a cup of chamomile tea into his hands, he doesn’t feel quite so much like he’s going to burst into tears at any moment.

“I have to ask, Spencer,” Hotch says carefully, “did you buy any dilaudid? Or attempt to contact your dealer?”

“Thought about it,” he admits, not meeting Hotch’s concerned eyes, “but I didn’t.”

Hotch relaxes. “Good. I’m proud of you, you know.”

Spencer looks at him with a hesitant smile that only grows when Hotch beams back.

They spend the afternoon watching nature documentaries — and Spencer admittedly dozes through a lot of them, exhausted from the burden of carrying so much pain around and the physical exertion of crying so hard — until Derek comes home at just gone five thirty.

“Hotch?” he asks, confused, and his voice wakes Spencer up from one of his unintentional naps.

He scrambles to sit upright, going inexplicably red at the thought of what he knows is coming. For some reason, he feels like he’s done something wrong and he’s about to be told off. He hates that this is what his relationship with Derek has come to.

“Hi, Derek,” Hotch says, squeezing Spencer’s ankle and getting up from the sofa. “Spencer asked me to come over earlier” — which is a bit of a stretch when really Spencer sobbed into the phone until Hotch showed up — “and I was just keeping him company until you came home.”

Derek’s eyebrows only furrow further, looking between them, confused. “Right.”

“Spencer,” Hotch says, meeting his eyes, “are you okay if I go now? You’ll tell Derek what we talked about?”

Immediately, Spencer blushes red as Derek’s scrutinising eyes fixate on him, but he nods and smiles weakly at Hotch, following him with his eyes as he lets himself out, if just to avoid meeting Derek’s.

“Pretty boy?” Derek says cautiously, slowly taking off his jacket and approaching the sofa like Spencer’s a wild animal liable to be spooked away at any given moment. He supposes it’s probably quite a good analogy, actually.

Spencer shifts nervously in his seat, moving his legs out of the way to give Derek more room to sit down on the sofa.

“You finally gonna tell me what’s been up with you these last few weeks?” Derek asks, and Spencer isn’t oblivious to the hope in his voice. “I’ve been worried about you, baby.”

Spencer nods and closes his eyes for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths to compose himself. He’s told one person, and it went fine— it went well, actually. Derek is his life partner, his soulmate, and they tell each other everything. He just needs to start at the beginning. He needs to tell him all of the disclaimers, remind him that he’s not angry at him for doing the right thing or for being the compassionate person he is, he just needs to— He needs to focus, and he needs to tell the truth.

“I called Hotch earlier because I was scared of myself,” he says, finally opening his eyes and looking into Derek’s. “I was having some of the most intense cravings I’ve had since being sober, and I was seriously considering calling my dealer, but I managed to call Hotch instead, and we talked about how I’ve been feeling.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” Derek says regretfully, his face melting into the very picture of apologetic as he scoots a bit closer on the sofa so he can grab Spencer’s legs and pull them over his lap.

“I know,” Spencer replies, ignoring for now that him not being here is why they have a problem in the first place. He moves on. “I’ve been… struggling… over the last month or so with feelings that I haven’t really known how to rationalise or explain, and when I finally did make sense of them, I felt that I couldn’t share them with anyone, which is why I’ve been so distant and private. And I’m sorry for that, by the way.”

Derek just smiles, caressing his bare ankle with one hand as he rests his other over his shin.

He pauses for a moment, trying to find the best way to word his thoughts, but before he can think about it too hard, the words come spilling out, unbidden. “I’ve found it hard to reconcile your attentiveness and willingness to throw everything at helping Strauss, and the way no-one helped me with my addiction back in 2007.”

Derek’s face instantly falls, and saying the words out loud brings all the emotions he’d managed to control back again in full force, and suddenly his face is crumpling, too. Derek surges forward, moving them both until he’s situated between the sofa cushions and Spencer, cuddling him as close as he can while Spencer cries into his chest.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice breaking as he begins to cry as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything then and I’m sorry I didn’t put two and two together to realise why you were struggling so much. I can’t believe I was so oblivious, Spence, oh God.”

They lie there for a long time, crying together as Derek runs his hands through Spencer’s hair and Spencer clings desperately to the fabric of Derek’s t-shirt.

“I was just feeling so distant from you because we weren’t spending as much time together, and I had no idea how to admit that I was feeling hurt about something that happened almost five years ago,” he continues when they’ve both calmed down again, and they’re ready to resume the conversation. “I guess I just felt… ashamed of both my feelings now and being jealous, which is so ridiculous, I had no idea how to tell anyone how I was feeling. And I’m so sorry that my lack of communication affected us so much.”

“Oh, baby,” Derek sighs, leaning in to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips. “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sorry that I was hurting you when I should’ve known the effect my actions would have. This whole mess is on me for so many reasons.”

“Der, I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says insistently, urgently, looking at him imploringly. “You’ve apologised enough for what happened back then, and there’s no way we can change what happened. You were just being the same kind and compassionate person you always are when you were helping Strauss.” He reaches out and cups Derek’s face gently, hating the tells of guilt and self-loathing he can see all over it.

Derek sighs and moves Spencer’s hand to his lips so he can kiss his palm. “When I was sitting in that hospital room waiting for you to wake up,” he explains, “I made a promise to myself. I told myself that I would never let anyone down like that again. I was never going to stand back and watch anyone else I knew fall into the same trap you did. So when I realised Strauss had a drinking problem, all I saw was an opportunity to keep that promise.

“The only problem was that I was so wrapped up in doing the right thing in helping her that I wasn’t doing the right thing by you. I should’ve realised all the feelings, physical and emotional, that this would bring up for you, but I didn’t think. I’m so sorry, baby boy, I really am.”

Spencer cuddles back into Derek, burying his face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder and relaxing into the reassuring scent of his person. “I know, Der. I forgive you.”

“How about we order in some Thai for dinner from your favourite restaurant and watch some Doctor Who?” Derek suggests after a couple of minutes of silence. “I think we’re long overdue for some quality time together.”

Spencer smiles at him, feeling so much of the heaviness that’s been weighing him down over the last few weeks lift that he feels almost like he’s floating. “I think that sounds like a plan.”

They set the living room up to be as cosy as possible, lighting the candles Penelope had made for them and using only their soft lamps to light the room, before piling the couch high with blankets and pillows until they’re cuddled together in a little nest.

The evening is spent eating their favourite food and watching their favourite season of Doctor Who, and while Spencer’s still hurting and they still have healing to do, this feels like a damn good start.

“I’m proud of you,” Spencer whispers to Derek late into the night, when they’re close to falling asleep in the comfort of their blanket pile.

Derek turns to him, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

“You made a mistake when you let things get bad with my addiction back in 2007,” Spencer explains, “and when you saw someone headed down the same path, you stopped at nothing to make sure you didn’t make that mistake again. If anything shows me how much you regret not doing anything sooner, it’s your devotion to Strauss’ recovery.”

Derek smiles at him, his eyes a little watery, and holds his chin gently as he leans in to kiss him. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you so much.”

Spencer kisses him again before cuddling back into his side. “I know you do, Derek. And I love you, too.”

And really, when it comes down to it, that’s enough.

Ahhh, this was the first fic in forever that actually felt fairly easy to write thank GOD. I loved this concept and writing that good, good angst was so much fun. Plus, we always love a happy ending in this house! Also, a reminder that how other people when you confront them with the way they hurt you or made you feel is not your responsibility.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @thebipolarbisexualnerd (add yourself to my taglist here!)

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

company

Spencer Reid x Reader x Luke Alvez

Synopsis; where Spencer invites someone into your bedroom

Warnings; smut, degrading/praise, hair pulling, oral (male receiving), spanking, creampie, if i’m missing any let me know

a/n; woo hoo part 2!! hope yall enjoy the continuation to this little blurb:)

requests are now open

***

"Strip and get on the bed on all fours. Luke you take her mouth, I don't wanna hear her whining."

You didn't waste any time in starting to unbutton your dress shirt., shifting your eyes from both men in the room. Both of them watching you like their prey as your outer layers started shedding.

"Stop."

Your hands left the buckle of your belt and went straight to your sides, "Did I do something wrong?" you questioned.

"No bunny you didn't do anything wrong," Spencer said looking down at you. He let his hand travel down from the curve of your face to your shoulder, pulling on the strand of your bra until it fell limp to the side.

You could feel the second pair of brown eyes watching the interaction in awe. Both you and Spencer shifted your eyes over to Luke. The growing tent in his pants and heavy breathing giving him away.

"Alvez I think you should do the honors of taking these off. It's only fair since you look at them so often," Spencer spoke looking the other man up and down.

Luke shifted over closer to the both of you, crossing his arms. You bit your lip at the sight of fabric stretching over his biceps.

"Reid are you sure. We don't have to do this if either of you is uncomfortable."

Spencer let out a dry chuckle at his friends words, "I'm far from uncomfortable but our little bunny might be," he said looking back down at you.

The way you kept rubbing your legs together was a tell of your impending arousal.

"She knows her words if she wants to stop. Tell me them again," he said tapping the side of your cheek.

"Yellow for slow down or change what we're doing. Red means stop Sir."

"Good girl bunny," Spencer praised with a genuine smile, "Now are you gonna keep her waiting?"

Luke kneeled on the bed a few inches away from you gazing in your eyes. You nodded with a smile leaning back on your elbows, spreading your legs as in invitation to the bigger male. He spared Spencer one last glance before letting his hands go to the buckle of your belt.

With steady, strong hands he quickly undid it and moved on to the button and zipper. Soon enough he was tugging your pants down your legs. A groan left his lips at the noticeable wet patch on your cotton panties.

You both looked back up and Spencer for directions on what to do next. You figured Luke was waiting out of respect for being invited in. He didn't really seem like the type to wait for what he wanted.

"All fours bunny and keep that mouth open, tongue out." From that position you were level with the bulge heavy insides Lukes pants.

Spencer spoke up but it sounded distant. You could only guess it was from the chair in the corner of the room.

"Don't hold back now Luke, she's all yours."

Your insides churned in anticipation. Veiny hands came into view as Luke started fiddling with his own belt and pants. You looked up at him and noticed how his jaw was clenched. Shallow breathes leaving his chest.

Your eyes widened once he pushed down his briefs. His cock was thick and tan, veins running along the whole thing leading up to the tuft of curly hair at the base.

One of his hands was in your hair while the other was guiding his length to your awaiting mouth. The salty taste of precum hit your tongue making a moan leave your throat. Slowly he guided it in your warm mouth. Teasing and testing strokes as a preparation for what was to come.

From the corner you could hear another zipper coming down and the ruffling of clothes. You ached to look back and see what Spencer was doing but at the same time you didn't wanna miss a minute of the sight above you.

Luke, who was able to see the view of his taller counterpart was ready to give a show. With both hands placed sturdily in your hair he moved his hips with a quicker rhythm in and out of your mouth.

The sound of his curses and groans went straight to your aching cunt. You could feel the arousal dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck," you heard come from the man above you, "taking this dick so well babydoll."

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head at the praise. The noises stuck in your throat doing wonders, adding extra stimulation onto the cock deep in your throat.

"God you're so greedy bunny," came from Spencer. His voice got closer until you felt a large warm hand on your behind. You felt the slap before you heard it. Causing another moan to leave your mouth.

You felt a dip in the bed as he settled behind you. A second slap was placed on your other cheek, quickly followed by his hands groping your covered core. His fingers dipped into the sides of your panties tugging them down your thighs.

His slender digits could be felt running through your folds, spreading your arousal. Your hips kept bucking up into his hand as he kept on moving it whenever he got close to where you needed him most.

You knew tears would come to your eyes in no time. Not just from the gagging you were doing but from the constant loss of touch on your needy, weeping pussy.

In a sign of mercy Luke pulled his cock out of your mouth to give you a chance to suck in as much air as you could. A trail of spit from where you lost contact stuck to your chin.

"Did you need something bunny," came from the teasing voice behind you.

You turned your head and looked at him with needy eyes, "Please fuck me Sir."

Luke tugged on your hair, bringing your head to his thigh, "Is my cock not enough for you princessa?" he spoke, accent dripping off his tongue, "you just need every hole filled to be satisfied huh."

Spencer landed another slap to your backside causing you to whimper, "Of course she does. Nothing but a greedy slut whenever cock is around."

Without warning you felt the tip of his cock slide through your folds, coating himself in your essence before sliding in your tight heat. The groan he let out was gutteral. You could feel his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled out and pushed back in.

Luke took this as a sign to slip back in to your mouth. His grip on your hair was anything but soft.

All three of your moans filled the room and probably drifted on to your poor neighbors. The sound of skin slapping and sticky wet sounds echoed off the walls.

"That's it bunny taking both of us so well. Just a little hole for us to fill up," Spencer said drilling into your sopping cunt.

"I'm so close princessa," Luke huffed out, "gonna cum deep down this little throat."

Spencer felt your walls clench at Lukes words and let out a chuckle. With one hand he reached down and spared some attention to your neglected bud. Quick circles caused the heat in your tummy to grow.

Suddenly Lukes motions stopped. Your nose was met with the dark curls as he shot his load in the back of your throat. His groans were like music to your ears. You watched in awe as his chest heaved up and down. The sweat dripping down his neck was visible where his shirt was unbuttoned.

"Swallow it princessa," he said commandingly looking down at you with his lust filled orbs.

There was little hesitation in following his orders. You stuck your tongue out as proof of compliance. He leaned down and met your lips in a rough kiss.

"Such a good little whore for us bunny," Spencer rasped behind you.

You nodded your head, tilting it back for Luke to continue his trail of wet kisses down your neck, "Please wanna cum Sir. Need it please!"

"What do you think Luke? Does she deserve it?"

Both men chuckled at your insistent whines and mewls.

"Go head princessa be a good girl and cum on his cock," Luke whispered before biting on your collar bone.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you felt the waves wash over you. Curses of Spencer's name left your lips as you fell limp onto Lukes lap. The former finishing soon after, ropes of his warm seed filled your insides. He pulled out sitting back on his heels watching the sticky cum drip out of your stretched hole and down your thighs.

The three of you layed on the bed waiting for your breathing to even out. The silence was comfortable until Spencer spoke up, "Lets clean you up bunny." A noise of discontent left your lips as you started to get up.

"I guess I should head out then," Luke said running a hand through his hair.

You and Spencer shared a look before you replied, "I mean you could go..or you could stay. We have a pretty big bathtub. Right Sir," you said looking back up at Spencer.

"Right we do Bunny," he said leading you into the bathroom, "Choice is yours Alvez," he called back with a knowing smirk.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #luke alvez smut #luke alvez x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfiction #chellewrites

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sierraraeck · 3 years

Text

How to Apologize

Spencer x Luke x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You can’t believe that for the four months since you’ve joined the team, and have been relentlessly flirting with the two hot agents, no one thought to tell you that they were together. Luke and Spencer decide they should apologize to you with an impromptu, late-night visit.

Category: Smut. Essentially pwp. A little fluff and a dash of angst if you squint.

Warnings: Cussing. Alcohol mentioned. Fingering (vaginal and anal), oral (male and female receiving), protected penetration, double penetration. Use of condoms and lube.

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Welcome back to episode three of me being in love with Ralvez. I’ve just really been in a mood for them lately, so I hope you enjoy what my mind comes up with when I just keep thinking about them ;)

You’ve got to be shitting me.

You couldn’t believe it. Luke and Spencer were together, and had been for over a year now. You’d only been on the team for about four months, all of which you spent unabashedly flirting with both of them.

Everyone knew it, too. It wasn’t like you were particularly quiet about expressing how much you enjoyed their company, and how easy they were on the eyes. It was fun for you, and you thought it was fun for them. They both seemed kind of into it, and the team found it a little funny.

Now you’re understanding why they found it funny. Because the whole time, you’d been embarrassing yourself by flirting with taken men. And they weren’t just taken. They were dating each other.

“You’re joking,” you said, with absolutely no humor. You were sitting on a barstool looking around at the shit-eating grins around you. They all shook their heads.

Your mouth was agape, “You’re fucking joking. You all saw this happening and not one of you had the decency to tell me!? This is bullshit!”

This just caused more laughter to erupt around you. Luckily, the bar you were at was pretty noisy, so not too much attention was drawn to your group.

“Honestly?” Emily started, “We just wanted to see, you know, as a profiler, how long it’d take you to figure it out.”

“And we,” Luke hopped in, gesturing to him and Spencer, “Wanted to see how well we could control our microexpressions.”

“This is some shit,” you mumbled to yourself, still wrapping your head around what was being said. You were trying to be light-hearted about it, and you had to admit it was a pretty good one they pulled on you, but you still felt a little insulted. And embarrassed. Oh god, you felt really embarrassed. Especially now that you knew they were ‘testing your skills’ or something, and you weren’t good enough to pick up on their relationship. You offered a disbelieving smile and shook your head. “You know what? I’m disinviting myself from this, and I’m going to go home, because otherwise… Actually let’s not talk about what would be happening otherwise.” The whole team gave you some strange looks at that comment, and you just took a deep breath and said, “Okay, I’m just gonna go.”

“Hey, Y/N, wait!” Tara called after you. You turned to face her. “We meant no harm by it!”

You laughed and acknowledged, “Oh, I know! I just think that maybe I should do a little mental detox now that I know I need to cool it.” You winked, trying to make everything calm and casual so that there would be no weird feelings when you returned to work on Monday.

But you definitely had weird feelings. About the deliberate joke that led you down a very deep rabbit hole, about the fact that you couldn’t just ‘detox’ the two men from your mind, and about how long they let the joke mess with your feelings.

It didn’t matter, though, because Spencer and Luke were together, and the last thing you wanted to do was make things complicated.

You were seated on your couch with a glass of wine watching reruns of your favorite show when you heard a knock at the door. You were in your pajamas, a navy tank top with matching shorts, and had been home for nearly two hours. It was a little past midnight, and you were actually about to go to bed. You couldn’t figure out who was at your door, and why the hell they’d be there past midnight, but one look through the peephole gave you clarity.

Two tall, handsome, nervous figures stood, waiting for you to answer. You sighed, unlocking the bolt and pulling the door open. You had the slightest idea to grab a jacket or something to throw on over your pajamas, but you were no longer trying to impress the agents before you.

“Hey guys,” you croaked, voice sounding tired.

Spencer and Luke were still acting a bit nervous, but Luke gave you a small smile. “Hey Y/N. May we come in?”

You gave them a once over, realizing they were both in large, matching, burgundy robes. You were confused, and gave them a strange look, but stepped to the side regardless. They quickly scampered into your apartment.

Once inside, Luke shut and locked the door, standing in front of it. You waited for them to say something.

Instead, they looked at each other, took a deep breath, then undid their robes, dropping them to the floor. They were completely and utterly naked.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, unable to peel your eyes away from the two of them.

They both smirked slightly at your reaction, and Spencer brought your attention back to his eyes when he said, “We figured we needed to apologize.”

All you could manage was a weak ‘uh-huh.’

“As long as you were serious about some of the things you said-” Luke started.

“And were actually flirting with us because you liked us-” Spencer continued.

“We wanted to show you that we were serious and flirting with you, too,” Luke concluded.

Again, all you got out was an ‘uh-huh.’ They looked at you expectantly, so you picked your jaw up off the floor and forced your brain to say something more helpful. “Yes, I was dead serious, yes, I was actually flirting with you, and, to answer your next question, yes.”

“The last yes was for what?” Luke half-teased.

“Whatever the fuck is happening right now,” you gestured to their bare forms, “yes.” They both laughed slightly, and just as Spencer was about to take a step toward you, you held up your hand. “Hold on, wait. I know you said you were serious, but is this something the two of you actually want, or is this just out of pity?” you asked skeptically.

Luke’s eyes went wide, “We actually want this.”

At the same time, Spencer said, “This is not out of pity.”

They seemed sincere, and that was good enough for you.

This time when Spencer stepped toward you, you didn’t stop him. His lips latched on to yours, and you immediately sank into his warmth. His lips were soft and his tongue was energetic, searching every part of your mouth it could reach. Luckily for you, he was already stark naked, giving you free reign to explore his bare chest.

As Spencer was exploring your mouth, Luke came up behind you and started lifting your shirt off your frame. His hands felt nice, just barely brushing up against your cold sides. You and Spencer had to part, but only for a moment, as Luke pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side.

You already felt like you couldn’t breathe, but when Luke seductively trailed his fingers up your sides and around between you and Spencer to start toying with your nipples, you thought you might never breathe again. Spencer started kissing down the column of your throat, sucking slightly at each point. Without Spencer’s mouth to absorb the sound, they could both hear the small gasps and whimpers you made at each touch.

Luke was firmly at your back, his hot chest pressed up against your shoulder blades, or maybe the fire radiating from them was all in your head, you couldn’t quite tell. Spencer wrapped his arms around your back, and pulled you all the way to him, leaving barely any room for Luke’s fingers to continue their ministrations. You made a snarky remark in your head about how you weren’t surprised about Spencer’s possessiveness, until he reached behind you. Luke groaned in your ear shortly after Spencer squeezed your ass and continued his trail to the growing bulge behind you. Spencer was quite good at multitasking. Kissing, sucking, stroking… That didn’t surprise you, however. You knew how fast his mind could work, and how it always seemed to be thinking about multiple things at once.

It didn’t really surprise you either that Luke was less good at multitasking. Still amazing, but not like Spencer. With that in mind, you decided to turn the attention of the group a little bit. You turned in Luke’s now still arms, back against Spencer’s chest. You gave Spencer enough room to continue massaging Luke, but you did lean forward enough to plant your lips on his.

Luke’s kiss was different from Spencer’s. His lips were plump and captivating, and his tongue was a bit more languid than Spencer’s, granted that could’ve been because most of his attention was being drawn elsewhere.

“Wait,” Luke panted, pulling away from you. You and Spencer both immediately stopped what you were doing and looked up at him. “Bedroom?”

You tilted your head in the direction of the door down hall, and the three of you moved like it was a mad dash to get there first.

Once inside, Luke’s lips reattached themselves to yours, and he walked you backwards toward the bed, hands on your waist. They traveled lower, over your still-clothed ass, and spread flat on the back of your thighs. Somehow, you knew what he wanted, lacing your fingers together behind his neck and jumping into his sculpted arms. He swiftly strode the rest of the way to the mattress and plopped you down, following quickly with his own body. Your legs were partially wrapped around his middle and his hands were back on your waist again, this time toying with the waistband of your pajama shorts. You had a fleeting thought about how you wished you were wearing any of the cute lingerie pieces in your drawer, but before ten minutes ago, you never thought the situation you were currently in would even be possible, let alone happen. It wouldn’t matter much longer anyways, as Luke’s fingers were pulling away the remaining garments.

Now, completely bare in front of him, Luke pulled back to admire you. Spencer was at his side, also eyeing you, but wasn’t quite as patient. He crawled up the bed, looking you straight in the eye. You nodded to him, your silent consent for him to lower his head, placing delicate kisses all around your neck and chest. He was back to doing what he had only moments ago, only this time he travelled farther down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You took a shuddering breath, weaving your fingers into his shaggy curls.

Luke stood, admiring the sight. His boyfriend was hunched over their mutual crush, drawing the most arousing whines from your mouth. It went straight to his cock. But, while this was definitely a mutual pleasure situation, it was also a way to make it up to you. He wanted to make sure you got all the attention first before going any further.

With that in mind, Luke joined the two of you, his focus a little farther south than Spencer’s. You’d been so caught up in the feeling of Spencer’s tongue and teeth nipping at your peaks that the feeling of Luke’s fingers circling your clit drew a dramatic gasp from your lungs. You tugged a little harder on Spencer’s locks, causing him to moan into your skin. You made a side note to yourself about hair pulling for Spencer for future reference. You were optimistic that you’d need it.

Luke started gradually picking up the pace on your clit as Spencer switched his attention to the neglected breast. You knew that you were already pooling, and despite not being able to see anything past Spencer’s mess of hair, you could tell that Luke was pleased. His index finger circled around your entrance, one, two, three times before pushing in. Your back arched off the sheets, pushing your nipples further into Spencer’s mouth and palm. Your jaw hung open in a silent moan.

Spencer noticed, and teased, “Come on, you’re usually not this quiet when it comes to expressing how much you enjoy our company.”

Luke leaned up, finger still pushing in and out of you, to see your face. He barely caught what Spencer was referencing, as you were trying to snap your jaw shut, and smirked down at you. He turned his head to the side and started kissing up the side of Spencer’s neck, who habitually craned it to the side, providing more access. Luke added a second digit, scissoring them inside you. Spencer hummed happily at the little hickies Luke was scattering all over his neck, and you felt the heat in your belly start to burn. God, it was so fucking hot, in every sense of the word.

Luke curled both of his fingers upwards, hitting that perfect spot, as he latched his lips to Spencer’s. With the combination of the sight and both men’s ministrations, you fell over the edge.

You squeezed your eyes shut, only a little disappointed that you couldn’t continue looking at them, as your lungs expelled any air you had in your chest.

When the waves of pleasure had mostly subsided, you managed to lift your eyelids, peering up at the sight above you. Luke and Spencer were still attached at the mouth, but they pulled away, Spencer laughing a little while Luke just grinned.

“Remind me to always kiss you like that when we have guests,” Luke said to Spencer, then winked at you. You gave a weak shrug, still too blissed out to form coherent sentences. It wasn’t your fault that the two people you’d been fantasizing about kissing on top of you turned you on. No way in hell you were ashamed about it, either.

Still laying there a bit dazed, the fluffy haired boys rolled over, taking all the heat with them. Spencer was hovering over Luke, tracing his tongue down Luke’s defined muscles before reaching his destination.

Spencer wasted no time running his flattened tongue up and down Luke’s length before sucking at the tip. Luke ran his fingers through Spencer’s hair, and both seemed to relax into each other. Despite the explicit sight in front of you, everything about the two of them, clearly starting to drift into their own world, was domestic. Caring and filled with love. You almost didn’t want to disrupt them, but the overpowering need to be near them won out.

Spencer’s lower half was over the edge of the bed, his toes being the only thing holding him up and giving him a vantage point. You slid off the bed yourself and tried to soundlessly move behind the younger man, coming to rest in a squat.

Spencer was getting Luke all worked up, raspy grunts mixing with satisfied hums as Spencer bobbed his head up and down. His movements came to a screeching halt when you leaned up against the foot of your bed and swiped your tongue quickly over Spencer’s tip. He let out a soft whine, muffled by Luke’s skin, who took a sharp inhale at the vibration.

Spencer’s dick was hard and spilling precum as you worked it into your mouth. His hips started moving of their own accord, forcing you to take him deeper, faster. The three of you started a steady rhythm that was already faltering. Both men were getting close.

Propped up only on your toes, you almost lost your balance once, digging your nails into Spencer’s side for support. He growled, and just because you could, you dragged your nails down the rest of his backside. All of the muscles tensed at once, and you smiled as best you could with your mouth full, moving your hands back to work what your tongue couldn’t.

Abruptly, Spencer pulled his hips back from you, and crawled further up the bed. You followed, getting up from your spot on the ground. Your toes, on the brink of cramping, weren’t complaining.

You realized why Spencer had pulled away so quickly, catching Luke coaxing Spencer into his lap. Even though they were in a slightly different position, it didn't stop you from what you’d been doing before.

Right as Spencer got situated on Luke’s cock, just starting to roll his hips, you took Spencer back in your mouth. You had one foot on the ground, the other knee next to Luke’s torso. Spencer was louder than you’d expected, letting curses and praises fly past his lips as if they were statistics of the utmost importance.

Luke was less vocal, but he seemed more coherent. Barely.

“Come here, baby,” Luke panted. Pulling off Spencer for a moment, you looked back at Luke. His face was already glistening, and he was gesturing toward your legs. You lifted the one closest to him, and he eased it over his head. Straddling his face, he pulled you down to him, licking a clean stripe up your slit. You moaned his name, letting your head hang.

He was just so warm. Everything about Luke was warm. His personality, his face, his tongue and mouth and literal body temperature. It made you feel safe. Thinking that, you realized just how perfect he was for Spencer. You could tell Spencer wasn’t someone who experienced warmth very frequently, you’d heard about his cold past, but you were happy that there was finally someone to show him some. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you hadn’t noticed their relationship sooner.

Lost in thought, you’d stopped doing anything besides feeling Luke’s tongue alternate between pushing into you and swirling around your clit, something Spencer was less excited about. His large hand cupped your face, causing you to look up into his pleading eyes. You stifled a giggle at the sight, quickly figuring out why he was looking at you like that. You returned to tracing your tongue up and down his cock, but it was becoming much harder to focus.

Luckily, you could feel how close Spencer was to finishing, and gave him the silent ‘okay’ to finish in your mouth.

Hot ropes of cum filled your throat, and tears pricked the corners of your eyes when Spencer pushed all the way into your mouth. You were gasping for air when Spencer leaned back from you, and so was Luke as he desperately called Spencer’s name. He must’ve been close when Spencer momentarily stopped moving to find his own release.

The pressure between your hips was building as you continued to watch Luke disappear inside Spencer. You started wriggling your hips for more friction against Luke’s mouth and slight scruff, but Luke wouldn’t let you. He wrapped his arms almost completely around your waist, and pulled you down like an anchor. No matter how much moving you did, there would be no getting out of his grasp, not like you really wanted to anyway.

You couldn’t tell which one of you finished first, but your collective moans filled the air all the same. You whined at Luke who continued to lick up every ounce of moisture from you, the sensations starting to become a little too much.

He let you go, and you took a moment or two to deep breathe, forcing oxygen back into your lungs. Once Spencer thought you’d gotten sufficient air, he took it all away from you again, leaning down to kiss you. He tasted himself on your tongue, which only made him relive the fresh memory over again.

He peppered little kisses down your neck and side, which was a tad ticklish. Spencer caught on despite you trying to keep yourself together, noticing the slight flinching in your muscles. He spent extra time working you up until you were laughing and begging him to stop.

Spencer was working his way down to Luke, who’d been absentmindedly massaging your cheeks for no other reason than he wanted to touch your tush.

You weren't sure how, but the two tall men were able to kiss each other around you, Luke sitting up and Spencer leaning forward. He got to taste you off of Luke’s lips, and was almost jealous that he didn’t decide to take Luke’s spot instead.

You leaned into Luke’s chest, resting your head on his shoulder and reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his soft curls, much shorter than Spencer’s but fun to play with nonetheless. They kissed each other with more passion than you’d really ever seen before, one hand touching the other man, their other hand tracing the curves of your body. You felt like you could fall asleep in the exact position you were in, half on Luke’s lap, half on Spencer’s.

But alas, there was still plenty of night to fill. Spencer asked if you had any lube and condoms, and you were about to get up and get them, but both men kept you where you were. You started wondering how much the two of them talked about or planned before showing up at your door, but decided those were questions for a later hour.

You directed Spencer to where both were kept while Luke turned you around to face him. You had a very quick discussion about cleanliness, something you were relieved to find out wasn’t an issue for any party, and Luke was sliding on a condom and pushing into you before you knew it. Pregnancy wasn’t something you were looking for at the moment.

Luke had been doing most of the work up until Spencer returned, his presence really only being a shifting of air behind you. Your eyes were locked on Luke’s eyes which were flicking between you and the man behind you.

It took you all the way up until Spencer’s hip bones came in contact with your ass that you realized what Spencer wanted the lube for. That and the guttural groan that ripped itself from Luke’s chest. At that point, Luke had stilled his thrusts up into you, so you decided to keep the pace, bouncing up and down on Luke’s ever-hardening dick. You braced yourself with a hand on his chest, his skin feeling like it might melt your fingertips.

Spencer snaked his hands around your body, cupping your breast in his hands and rolling your nipples around between his fingers. Spencer, you were convinced, had bad circulation, feeling colder than you and Luke. You arched your back into him regardless, giving him full access to nip down your neck as he continued to pound into Luke. You had barely noticed the slowing of your hips atop Luke’s until Spencer placed his hands on your waist with a bruising grip. He set a much faster pace for you and Luke than either of you had set before, but you couldn’t be mad. Each thrust pushed you further and further toward the edge.

That all stopped when Spencer lightly leaned you over Luke’s body, Luke gladly accepting by pulling you even closer, wrapping his arms around your back. The three of you were still moving, but only in the slightest way you could from your positions.

With your face buried in Luke’s neck, reveling in the momentary reprieve of a slower pace, Luke must’ve been looking at Spencer who was tracing all sorts of patterns on your ass. You felt like there was a silent conversation you were being left out of.

You were clued in when Spencer traced a single finger right over your puckered hole, all the muscles contracting at the sudden contact. Luke whined at the tension, as he was still completely sheathed inside you.

Spencer lightly continued his tracing, close but not too close, as he leaned over your back and asked, “Is it okay if I touch you here?” He emphasized his words with another swipe over your hole. This time, you were a bit more prepared.

You twisted your neck around to look at Spencer’s face. It was soft and questioning, showing you that, while he was interested, he clearly wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to. But you were intrigued. You’d only ever tried it once before with a definitely straight man, and it was just medium. Nothing you had really considered doing again until now, but you trusted Spencer. And honestly, who better to give it a second chance with than someone who knew what he was doing? Not only that, but frequently participated in it with his boyfriend?

You nodded, looking him straight in the eyes. “Yes.”

“Let us know if you are ever uncomfortable or need us to stop,” Luke reminded.

You turned your attention back to him and nodded again. “I will.”

Now with confirmation from you, Spencer dripped some of your lube at the top of your ass, watching it roll all the way down to where you and Luke were connected. Luke had stopped moving completely, and you were staying still enough for Spencer to slowly push a finger into you. He confirmed with you one more time that you were okay, which you assured him you were, before he started moving.

He was nice and slow to start, allowing you time to adjust to the feeling. As Luke started rocking back and forth with his hips, Spencer added a second finger, scissoring them to help stretch you out. You hissed at the added pressure.

Both men started moving a bit faster, pulling gasps out of you faster than you could bring air back in. You were surprised that you whined when Spencer removed his fingers, not realizing how much you were actually enjoying yourself. You felt empty with the loss of contact, but didn’t have to worry for long when the familiar ‘pop’ of the lube cap let you know it had been opened.

A few moments later and Spencer was filling you up at a tantalizing pace. Luke slowed again, allowing you time to adjust to the new sensations. The man at your back pulled clean out of you, drawing yet another whimper, as the one below you placed his firm hands on you back and rolled the two of you to the side.

Spencer was at your back again, already pushing back into you as Luke pulled your top leg over his hips, giving both men better access.

It started out slow and sensual, but gradually turned into something desperate and frantic. Hands were groping over bodies, mouths were attaching themselves to any lips or skin available. Spencer was massaging your tits from behind and Luke hand his arms draped over your hips to bring you closer to him with each thrust by your ass. The three of you were a mess of limbs and moans, each trying to meet your end.

Spencer came first, sloppy thrusts coming to a halt behind you, and tried to muffle his groans in the flesh of the base of your neck. It didn’t help much. You were right behind him, the brutal pace they had been pounding into you becoming too much. You were worried you might have blown Luke’s eardrum out with how closely you were screaming next to him, a sound your neighbor was sure to mention when filing a complaint you couldn’t care to feel guilty about.

You and Spencer were floating down from your highs, but Luke wasn’t as satisfied. He pulled out of you, cold air hitting your body and sending a shock through your system. His lips were on yours quickly, which had you melting again.

He growled in that deep voice of his about turning you around, which made you feel all tingly until he actually did it. It took more effort than you care to admit to simply change sides, facing Spencer now. It was good to look at his face again. You had absolutely no problem with Luke’s (who would?), but you wanted to look at them equally. Unfortunately, you weren’t born with eyes in the back of your head.

You were back in the same position you’d been in, just this time your other leg was propped up on Spencer’s more pronounced hip bones and not Luke’s. Spencer quickly took advantage of getting to see your face head on, capturing your lips with his. His tongue slid into your mouth when you gasped at the feeling of Luke entering you from behind. It was a bit easier for him to slide in, Spencer having already stretched you out. Luke joined Spencer as they both kissed down your neck, only stopping briefly to kiss each other.

The slightly younger man trailed all the way down to your breasts, taking your nubs in his mouth or fingers. Luke was still marking up your neck, brushing his fingers down your sides. With each of his thrusts, your heat was grinding against Spencer’s length, which you felt continually get harder. He looked into your eyes and you whispered the few words of your consent, not being able to get anything else out.

He bucked his hips up into yours, having no trouble as you were still wet from your previous orgasm and your impending one. The feeling of the two of them pushing and pulling inside you, hitting different spots from different angles, you knew you weren’t going to last long. It just felt so good to be completely filled up to the hilt.

Needing something to grasp on to, your fingers immediately found Spencer’s curls. You remembered from earlier he seemed to like it, so you tugged, pulling a delicious groan from his pink and puffy lips. You felt Luke’s labored breath on your ear, and with the few brain cells that were still working, you could tell that the three of you were very, very close.

You snapped first, clawing your nails down Spencer’s back, and the feeling seemed to be enough for him. The sound of his love and his crush moaning in harmony pushed Luke over the edge, joining your symphony.

The three of you laid there panting before both men got up to remove their condoms. Luke came back with a towel to wipe you clean of yourself, Spencer putting the lube back where he found it. Luke tossed the towel to the side, laying down next to you. Spencer walked back into your room on slightly shaky legs, which made you smile just a bit. He, too, collapsed next to you. You were able to see all the red marks on his back and thighs from your nails, and you almost felt bad for not spreading the wealth around a little more, only Spencer’s skin receiving the assault.

Soon, all of your breathing reached a normal level, and Spencer pulled the sheets up over his body, Luke helping him get you under, then sliding under himself.

You sighed with content, then laughed, drawing both men’s attention to you, as if it weren’t already. “Wow. You sure know how to apologize.”

They both chuckled with you, cuddling even closer now.

“So was it worth it?” Luke half-teased.

You pretended to think about it, but replied, cheeky, “I mean, you could have told me sooner, but I guess I don’t mind the two of you needing to apologize.” And to be honest, you hoped there’d be more reasons for apologies in the future.

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