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#fanfic: criminal minds
beelmons · 1 year
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Dr. Reid's Lonely Hearts Club
Genre: smut, light fluff at the end Pairing: spencer x hotch x fem!BAU!reader word count: 6,650 cw: threesome, vaginal penetration, facefucking, light bondage, slight degradation, alcohol consumption A/N: this is just absolutely pure filth and I'm both sorry and not sorry. Happy Valentine's to all singles out there surviving on self insert smut fics! Summary: When everyone gets the evening off, only three people remain in the office, the lonely hearts come together to not feel so alone on the most romantic day of the year. Tag list: @ssamorganhotchner @hotchxreid @cassiemartzz @supercriminalbean @evee87
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Tap, tap, tap, tap.
“Jesus, Reid! Can you stop that?!” Emily yelled towards the young genius, and he ended up jumping in fear on his own chair. The poor guy was simply tapping his pen against the surface of the desk while he pondered over some details of the case they had just wrapped up. “Sorry.” Emily said again once he noticed both Morgan and Hotch coming out of their offices to oversee the ruckus on the bullpen “Sorry, Spencer, I’m just a little antsy, I have a date tonight and I’m really hoping I don’t need to cancel it. Sorry, everyone.” She said again looking apologetically at the rest of the coworkers.
“Alright, enough is enough.” Hotch mentioned from the handrail outside his door “It’s 5p.m., we’re clearly not getting a new case tonight, and any paperwork left can be finished tomorrow. Anyone with Valentine’s Day plans can go home. Have a lovely evening.” your boss waved his hand dismissingly, and you watched as almost every person bolted out of their seats and towards the elevator. You waved goodbye at your girlfriends shouting ‘bye!’ and ‘have a great night!’ with bright smiles on their way out.
Hotch went back into his office, and only Spencer and you remained by your desks, exchanging equally disappointed looks. “No plans?” you asked.
“Have I ever had plans?” Reid answered with a slightly embarrassed smile. You offered him one of your own and a nod in agreement before going back to the files on the wooden surface. You reached to grab a couple from Emily’s desk, if you were going to spend your night like that, might as well help your friends out; you would be able to check that favor in some other time. Spencer smiled at your actions and did the same with some of the files from JJ’s desk.
Aaron was shut inside his private workplace, devouring file after file of piled up work for what felt like two or three hours. With his eyes strained, he decided to take a walk to the kitchen and get some extra coffee to burn the midnight oil. When he stepped outside the door, however, he stopped right on his tracks. “What are you two doing?” he asked as he stared at Reid’s desk.
You had dragged your chair to be sitting on the other side of your friend’s table, the surface covered in different Chinese dishes still in their take-out containers, behind them a bottle of rum that was clearly drank from, and some Hershey’s kisses wrappers scattered around, you were laughing soundly together, talking about random Valentine’s Day experiences.
“Hey! Look who's finally out of the man cave!” you said with a smile, raising your hands in the air victoriously “We’re having ourselves a little Valentine’s Day dinner, courtesy of Dr. Reid’s Lonely Hearts Club, if you got a partner, you are not invited. Care to join us?” you added. Spencer was looking at him expectantly, and Hotch let out a defeated sigh before heading downstairs and pulling a chair to sit in front of the two of you. You handed him a container with a pair of chopsticks on top. “Pekin duck. I know you like it.” you mentioned.
“I don’t think the rum is a good idea.” he replied, grabbing the food from you.
“Come on, it’s after 8.” you complained.
“It is morally questionable, but since we’re off the clock we’re technically not breaking any rules. Not any that we can be reprimanded for, at least.” Reid added. “Plus, we got you scotch in case you didn’t want rum.” he continued, bending his body to pick up a bottle of acceptable whiskey from the floor.
“Relax, Hotch, no boss scolding, no dad speeches, just friends making each other company on the loneliest night for single people.” as you spoke, you were opening the bottle of his preferred liquor and pouring a glass, or rather a coffee mug, with a couple ice cubes. After having served a considerable amount, you handed him the mug and your hand squeezed his thigh in a friendly manner, however a little bit higher than you usually would. He scoffed at the comment and took a sip out of the container.
“How come you don’t have any plans tonight?” your boss asked.
“I usually spend Valentine’s Day with my mom, but I couldn’t get a ticket without making sure we would be in town.” Spencer said absentmindedly while he rummaged through his food. Both of you looked at him questioningly, and he responded with a confused stare.
Hotch gave up without even trying to explain that the question wasn’t, obviously, directed at him, instead his head turned towards you “and how come you don’t have plans tonight?” he asked once again.
“Nuh-uh” you answered with a sarcastic tone “If we’re drinking, I’m not answering anything unless we play a game.”
“A game? What, are we 15?” Hotch asked.
“I was thinking a little bit more like 20, you know, r-rated questions might be included” you answered.
“So, we’re not horny teenagers, we’re horny college kids.” your boss reiterated, and you nodded along “and you’re okay with this?”  he turned to Spencer to double check.
“I never really got to play drinking games in college, so this should be interesting” his head wobbled excitedly.
“That’s because you were fourteen, Reid,” you joked, earning a chuckle from Hotch in the process “Okay fellas, since it’s Valentine’s let’s go with a spicy game, so we have ‘Never have I ever’, ‘Strip poker’, or ‘Truth or Dare’. Spencer, since it’s your first time, why don’t you choose first?”
Your partner fiddled with the chopsticks in his hands, lips pursed pretending to ever consider it “Strip poker.” he stated with an innocent and hopeful smile. You and Aaron broke into a surprised and nervous laugh, you exchanged looks for a second and decided that, well, even if stripping in your office wasn’t on your bucket-list, it would still make an interesting anecdote.
Big mistake. You forgot two very important facts: one, doctor Reid was banned from every casino in Las Vegas, and two, when men play this game with a woman involved, they tend to team up with a very clear purpose in mind. After just ten minutes of playing, your bra was on full display, blazer, blouse and shoes long gone, yet managing to keep your lower clothing intact. Hotch remained with his white button-up shirt and pants, and Reid only having lost as much as his sweater vest.
“Full house.” Aaron said as he opened his cards, clearly beating Reid’s straight. He turned to look at you, eyeing your last garment, but a pleading expression appeared on your face and caused him to chuckle. “Alright, I’m using my winning privileges to change the game. Let’s do Never Haver I ever.” you put your hands together thankfully, and Spencer huffed his cheeks in disappointment.
You took a moment to top everyone’s drink up, and after you had taken a sip, you began to talk “Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy with someone from the office.” you said and watched with amusement how both of your friends sipped at their drinks, regardless of you being the question host, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t, so you had to take a sip was well.
“Never have I ever gotten a lap dance.” was Spencer’s turn to speak, and both your boss and you had to drink. He appeared to be embarrassed at the fact of being the only one left out, and you chuckled at his cute expression.
“Never have I ever…” Hotch began “…had a threesome.” there was a bit of an awkward silence as you stared at each other intently, noticing how none of you would bring the mug to your lips.
“Never have I ever wanted a threesome.” you dared to ask during your turn, and in perfect unison the three of you downed a bit of your beverages. There was an exchange of looks afterwards, and your brains all seemed to be working in the same direction.
“Never have I ever felt sexual attraction for a person in this room.” Reid asked, and yet again the entire group drank up.
Hotch’s throat cleared up, and being the voice of reason, aware that you were still in an FBI building, he decided to take the questioning in another direction. “Never have I ever done a body shot.” he said.
“Taken off of me? Or me taking it from someone else’s body?” you asked trying to clarify the question “Actually, you know what? Doesn’t matter, just remembered I’ve done both.” you answered yourself nonchalantly and proceeded to take the corresponding liquid; to your surprise, however, you saw how both of your companions remained still. “Wait, for real?” you asked, taking turns to look at both of them.
Spencer simply shook his head, lips pursed, and Hotch shrugged it off “I wasn’t really a frat party guy.” the older man admitted.
“Come on. Unacceptable.” you stood up and grabbed the bottle of rum in your hands. You looked around, Spencer’s desk was a mess, so you decided to move over to Emily’s ‘she will understand’ you told yourself. The two men followed you with puzzled expressions. You laid down on top of your friend’s workspace, still shirtless, and pointed in the direction of your boss “Let’s go old school for you.” you said with a smirk as you bent the bottle over your stomach, letting some of the liquid fall and spill over your belly button.
Hotch cocked an eyebrow, but curiosity got the best of him. He unbuttoned the top part of his shirt, a clear attempt to not mess it up, and took a step closer. You could feel his lips land on your stomach, and the way his tongue dug in the concave area caused a slight moan to come out of your mouth, your hand lowering to land on the nape of his neck, keeping his head in place. After he was done sucking the liquid, he pressed a couple of open mouthed kisses higher up your stomach, and stopped himself right before your chest.
“I can see the appeal of that.” he muttered while wiping his mouth to get rid of some of the dripping liquor. He turned to look at Reid, who was watching the situation with a flustered face, and signaled for him to take his turn. Startled, the blond man hurried to your side, but before he let the fluid down your body, you darted up to be sitting instead.
“Hold on, I have something else in mind for the doctor.” you stopped him, a mischievous smile on your face. You fixed your position and tilted your head to expose the right side of your neck, your finger pointed at the base, indicating that he should put his mouth there. He complied to your instructions, positioning his head at the base with an open mouth, he proceeded to tilt the bottle letting the rum slide down the side of your neck directly into it. Once he had enough of the drink, he laid the bottle back onto the desk, his hands instinctively gripped the sides of your hips to keep you still as he licked the trail of wetness the alcohol had left on your neck; he mimicked Aaron’s actions and sneaked a couple of nibbles to the sides of your neck. In the heat of the moment, and with his blood rushing everywhere, he lifted his head and attempted to capture your lips in a kiss.
Your reflexes were fast, and before he could land them on you, your hand came in between. “Ah, ah!” you exclaimed with provocation in your voice “If you want to go there, then we’re going to have to change the game.” you pushed him slightly by his chest and he retracted his hands, stepping back with a slight hint of embarrassment in his face, at which Hotch smirked; he found fascinating how you had him on his toes since the very first moment. “That leaves us with Truth or Dare, doesn’t it?” you clarified “Since it’s my turn, I’ll go first. Say, Reid, Truth or dare?” you turned to face the slender figure in front of you.
“Truth.” he said convincedly, his hands undoing a couple of his buttons to allow for the cool air to enter.
“Out of every girl in the office, who would you like to fuck the most?” you batted your eyes at him, your legs swinging as they hung from the desk you were still sitting on.
He took a second and licked his lips before he answered, apparently unwavering “You.” he let out after some thought.
Next to you, you could hear Aaron scoff “Playboy.” he muttered “We know it’s JJ.” he added.
“A liar, just like any other man” you joked, but instead a frown formed on the doctor’s face.
“Alright, enough.” he fixed his eyes on yours “Truth or dare?” he asked.
“Dare” you said with a cocky smile.
“Take off those pants.” Spencer commanded. Hotch raised his eyebrows, intrigued by the proposal.
“You’ve been waiting for that since strip poker, haven’t you?” you snarked at him “Okay, pretty boy, but I get to help you strike one of your ‘never have I ever’ experiences.” Without further explanation, you hopped off the surface and took his hand to pull him along as you walked to your chairs. The second you were in front of them, you pushed him back until his legs hit the edge of the seat, forcing him to fall onto it. Before Spencer could understand what was happening, your back was already facing him, and your ass was grinding on his lap.
Hotch had taken his seat as well, legs spread open with his hand dangerously close to his own crotch, simply admiring the way you moved on top of the youngest. Your body rolled as you danced teasingly over Reid, your pants slowly coming further down until your ass was on full display, only covered by the panties you had chosen for that day. You turned yet again to lay your knees on each side of the seat, straddling his front, your eyes lustfully staring into his as your fingers worked to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “And to prove you I’m a good sport, I’m going to throw in something extra.” you smiled at him and shortly your lips were onto his, from the beginning, the kiss was sloppy and open-mouthed, your tongues tangling together as they moved hungrily.
His hands, out of habit, lifted to land on your ass, and you swatted at them with a disapproving sound. “I didn’t say you could touch.” he winced in protest at your words, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep them to himself. Instead, you reached out for the desk in which your belongings still laid and took a hold of the handcuffs you used to carry. You distracted him with your lips once again, having him focusing only on the kiss, he didn’t notice when your hands caressed down his arms to place them behind the chair, and it wasn’t until he heard the clicking of the cuffs that he broke away from it.
“What are you doing?” he asked with startled eyes.
“Making sure you behave.” you answered, your head tilting to have your mouth on the side of his neck instead, nibbling on a spot like he had done before on yours. His eyes fluttered closed, just allowing himself to enjoy the warm sensation of your tongue on his skin, your hips occasionally rolling on his crotch, which felt tighter by the second.
“Hey, Reid” the both of you were slightly startled by Hotch’s voice coming behind you, but you kept going into providing your friend some friction; Spencer on the other hand replied with a questioning hum “Truth or dare?” Aaron asked.
“D-Dare” he barely managed to stutter out. The second he got his answer, the boss stood up from his seat, his hands working on undoing the pieces of clothing that were holding his member captive. Once his underwear was moved aside, his cock slapped against his stomach, slightly pink from the way he was rubbing it over his pants during your little lap dance.
He walked in your direction and landed a hand on your ass gently, giving it a light squeeze to enjoy the sensation of your soft skin, then they travelled up to grab the hem of your panties, pulling them down to your thigh level. He gripped at your hips to draw them up, causing your ass to perk up and your clothed chest to be pressed further against Reid’s. His fingers curiously travelled in between your legs, and you could feel his thumb press flat against your slippery slick.
Your lips had moved back to Spencer’s, and a moan got caught up on your throat at Aaron’s touch. You broke the kiss to look back with surprise in your eyes. You watched him bring the fluid-covered thumb to his mouth and taste you with utter excitement.
“I dare you to watch me fuck her first.” he stated with his eyes completely fixed on yours as he finished removing the shirt that still covered his torso. You couldn’t really process what he had just said, and what was even more puzzling was, now that you had gotten a good look at his dick, how were you going to take all of him?
He didn’t give you much time to keep thinking before you could feel him entering you. His hand pumping the base of his own member until it was covered by your pussy, however, he allowed a couple of seconds for you to get used to his size. As you felt him slide into you, your hands traveled up to tangle on Spencer’s hair, clutching on it for dear life, your head laid on his shoulder and you let out a loud, high pitched moan, at the feeling of being full of your boss.
You could hear Spencer wiggle beneath you, trying to get rid of the cuffs that were holding him back. He exchanged a look with Hotch, an almost offended one, and the older man answered with pressing his index finger to his lips, indicating the younger to keep quiet “Watch and learn.” with those words, his hips began to move. He was slow and gentle at first, causing you to be panting against your friend’s neck softly, but not long after his pace began to pick up.
The entire office was quiet not being for the loud smacks of Aaron’s balls against your skin. His cock hitting your deepest sides over and over again. You held onto Reid for balance, your hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders to prop yourself up. You face was right in front of him, your mouth slightly parted open letting the noises flow, your forehead laid on top of his, and you stared into his eyes, showing you just how good your boss was fucking you.
You let out a cry after a particularly rough thrust that Hotch hit you with, and Spencer took the advantage to lean up and press his lips back onto yours, nibbling and twisting his tongue around like his life depended on it. He didn’t like feeling left out, so he was trying his best to shower every bit of the skin he had access to with sloppy and wet kisses.
Perhaps Hotch was going too hard on him, his dick still pounding against you at a steady pace, and having his subordinate confined to a chair, fucking the girl he clearly liked. With a rough tug, he ripped the safety pins of your bra open, and from the movement of having your hips repeatedly pummeled, they bounced off the garment on their own. You leaned forward so they would be dangling over Spencer’s face, the new angle not only allowing your dark-haired partner to access new angles, but also gave the doctor chance to catch one of your nipples into his mouth.
He was sloppy, but never carless, his tongue moved around your breast, hungrily, the noises of sucking and popping filling your ears along with Aaron’s growls that, you noticed, had began to be much deeper. A wave of confidence hit you at the desperation that you were making him feel, and with Spencer busy with your chest, you turned your head around, a smug, shitty smirk on your face. “Truth or dare, Aaron?” you asked.
“Dare.” he said without flinching, his eyes fixed on you, his hips keeping the steady, although slightly erratic pace.
“I dare you to make me cum before you do. Bet you can’t do it with how close you are.” your tone was not only daring, buck even mocking.
One thing about Aaron Hotchner, he liked abiding by the law, but he did not enjoy being told what to do, or being challenged in any way, it hurt his ego, and it brought out the worst in him. Without warning, he landed a loud smack on your ass, same one that caused a loud wince out of your mouth “Shit, Aaron!” you were about to turn around and complain at the surprising, yet not unwelcome, roughness, but the slight pain of your hair being pulled shut you up. He grabbed you by the head to pull you upwards and away from Reid’s lap; you stumbled a bit as you got back on your feet, and he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you from falling down, or his dick from slipping out. In a quick motion, you removed the bra that kept dangling from your arms and ended up kicking down the panties that had slipped down to your knees, leaving you bare naked in front of Spencer who was staring from his restricted seat. Aaron’s hand moved from your hair to your chin, turning your face in his direction to be able to attack your mouth with his, his tongue forced it’s way in and you almost choked at the lack of air. The hand around your waist kept you secured as he kept thrusting into you, your moans coming out from your throat directly into his mouth; said hand slipped further down, making its way in between your legs to have his index finger rub around your clit.
His hips snapped faster each time, but the circles drawn around your sensitive nub remained to a steady, slightly slow pace. Your knees began to give in, and he was holding you up by the mere use of his hand against your pussy. Spencer could only observe from a few steps away, how another man, your boss nonetheless, was causing you so much bliss. His dick began to twitch inside his pants, and his hips rolled trying to get friction, any source of friction, from them.
One of your hands clung from Aaron’s neck, while the other tried to keep balance by gripping onto the desk. You began to clench around Hotch, who was already struggling to keep his noises at bay, releasing them right into your mouth. “Aaron…” you moaned against his lips, letting him know that you were close. His finger quickened its pace on your clit, you began to clench repeatedly, and your stomach began to tighten, and just before you could feel the sweet release of your climax, Aaron Hotchner pulled out of you, his hand leaving your sensitive area, and his lips breaking away.
You yelled a curse in his direction, and he grabbed you by the wrist in response, his face visibly annoyed since, for the sake of his teasing, he had accidentally denied his own orgasm. He tugged on your hand before you could protest any longer and directed you to Reid, making a sign with his hand for you to kneel down, and you obeyed. Without much as a word, and Spencer dumbfoundedly looking down at you, he walked around the chair with the cuff keys that he took from the desk, kneeled, and freed Reid’s hands from their confinement; the youngster took a second to rub at his hands that had gone slightly numb and observed the actions of your boss. Hotch walked behind you and reached for your arms, pulling both behind your back, you also didn’t quite comprehend what was going on, but you were so focused on Spencer’s pretty face, his swollen lips from the kissing, and the uncomfortable shuffle he made to try and satisfy his need for attention down there that you didn’t care about whatever Aaron was doing to you.
“You created this little club to not spend Valentine’s alone, didn’t you, Reid?” he said in the blond man’s direction “And yet, you’re the only one unattended. That doesn’t seem fair, does it? She went around parading another man fucking her, with only a couple of kisses to keep you going.” he shook his head disapprovingly, his hand then moved to the back of your head, and gently pushed it forward, allowing your cheek to rest on Spencer’s bulge. “He even paid for the food, time to pay him back, treat him nicely.” he commanded.
Your eyes had locked with Reid’s the entire time. You were more than pleased to be of service to him, he deserved to be praised, and treated, like nothing but a king, and you intended to do so. You wiggled your body to be further in between his legs and tilted your head up, staring at him as you opened your mouth, showing him that you were ready to take him in. His heart felt like jumping off his chest, and he used his newly-freed hands to cup your face, bend down, and land a passionate kiss on your lips. He was softer compared to Hotch, tender even, as he had been waiting his entire life to do that, even if he had done it minutes before.
After he was satisfied, he pulled back to fiddle with his pants. Once he moved his boxers aside, his member darted out, accidentally landing right across your face. You heard him mutter a quiet ‘sorry’ and you could see the red tint adorning his face again. You giggled to yourself and tilted your head to finally have his tip inside your mouth. You took a tentative, gentle suck at it, and the high pitched moan that he let out was all the encouragement you needed to keep going. You began to bob up and down, making sure to take more of him each time. His own head was thrown back, eyes closed as he let himself be pleasured.
In the meantime, Aaron kneeled right behind you. He double checked that the cuffs weren’t too tight, the intention was never to hurt you, and once he got confirmation, he positioned his still hard dick at the height of your hands still forced together. His fingers guided yours gently to wrap around his shaft, and he began to thrust slowly into it. You could feel his tip hit your back time and again as he fucked your tied-up hands slow enough to keep his erection, but not so fast to make himself come.
Spencer’s moans were a higher pitch and came out more repeatedly. His hands had moved your hair and he was helping you move your head back and forth. The excitement kept running through your veins, you could barely move, your knees hurting a little bit from being on the floor, but there was nothing you could do about it, and the mere feeling of being bound to provide these men with pleasure was keeping you on the edge, still unable to release.
Reid’s grip tightened around your hair, and you could feel how he kept you still. You braced yourself for the thrusts that were about to come, and they did not disappoint. With every jump of his hip, you could feel him hit the backside of your mouth, dangerously close to going into your throat. “You’re taking me so well, so fucking good.” the blond man praised, and your eyes traveled up in attempt to see him, his own met your sight, and he took a second to push a strand of hair behind your ear. His hips buckled up a couple more times, with your lips tightening around him. You wanted to taste him, you were eager to do so, but alas these men had entirely different plans for you.
As he felt his stomach cramping in pleasure, Spencer decided to remove himself from your mouth, to which you yet again complained. He signaled Hotch to get up, and he gently helped you stand by grabbing you around the shoulders. “I wanted to taste you!” you cried out with a huff of your cheeks, turning your head to look at Reid.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you will get the chance, I’m nowhere near done.” he directed you to Emily’s desk once again, poor girl will have to throw away the whole thing by the time the night ends, and he guided you as if he was transporting an unsub to a holding cell, Hotch following behind. His hand landed on your head and he forced it forward to have you bent over the wooden surface, your ass out in his direction. He positioned himself at your entrance and easily began to push in. You let out a moan of pure bliss at the sensation of being filled again, this time around with Spencer’s pinkish cock.
His thrusts were gentle compared to Aaron’s, but the pace was rather quicker and deep, he was desperate to feel you. One of his hands landed on the mark that his boss had previously left on you, squeezing it with what seemed almost like rage. The other hand tangled itself on the chain of the cuffs, using it as support to continue pulling your body against his hips. You began to whimper once again, almost like cries, from feeling so close, so fast, more intense than before.
“If you don’t mind…” Hotch’s voice snapped you out of your own mind “…I’ll be using this side” your body was positioned close to the edge, your cheek laying on the surface facing the hall; Hotch stood in front of your mouth, guiding the tip to your lips, not quite pushing in yet. The opening of your mouth was the approval he needed to finally slide his length in the slippery hole. Unlike Spencer, he wasn’t paying particular attention to how deep he went, his hips continuing to push trying to find the pleasure he had taken from himself moments before.
Down south, Spencer’s eyes were focused on your ass, it looked so magnificent, swallowing him in without protesting. He could feel you twitching, you felt heavenly to him, never did he imagine he would actually have the chance to fuck you, let alone have you whimper because of him, so desperately. He wanted to make you cum, to have you trembling in a way Hotch couldn’t do it. His fingers slid in between your thighs in a similar fashion, and his index yet again began paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves.
You were going on overdrive, your bottom half was getting attention everywhere, and your top could barely hold any air from the thick member using your mouth as his personal flesh light. “I’ve seen every landscape in this country,” Hotch began to say, his eyes staring tenderly down at you “and there’s no prettier sight than you like this, taking me all in.” the praise sent shockwaves all over your body, and your walls began to clench around Spencer.
He was trying to keep himself sane, not wanting to come just yet, he wanted to give you more pleasure, to have you wobbling even more. “Hey, truth or dare?” he asked in between grunts as he tapped on your back, letting you know the question was for you “If I remember correctly, it’s my turn.” he clarified. Aaron’s cock, however, was not giving you much of an opportunity to answer. You made random sounds around his length, and the vibrations gave him an extra wave of pleasure.
“She said ‘Truth’” your boss translated for him, a prideful smirk plastered all over his face, pleased with the fact that he was barely letting you speak.
“Whose dick tastes best?” Spencer shot Hotch a smug look and he replied with a shake of his head.
You pulled back, letting go of Aaron’s cock in attempt to answer the question “Yo-“ before you could even began the sentence, your boss’s hands guided your head into its previous position and thrusted his shaft back inside your mouth; you complied and continued swallowing your cheeks around it. It was Hotch’s turn to look smug, and Spencer chuckled at his actions.
The situation was becoming almost unbearable, you needed to come, you were so close, and here they were playing ‘who wore it best?’ with your mouth for a gown. Spencer seemed to notice your desperation when your eyes began to tear up. His hips changed positions, and it hit a spot so sweet you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your walls clenched around him, your mouth let go of Aaron’s dick to allow your voice to come through “Fuck, Spencer! Inside, come inside!” you begged as your release began to drip down your thigh.
Your partner obeyed your commands, and he pulled roughly on the cuffs to have his member all the way inside of you as he spilled his seed. You shut your eyes and smiled to yourself, it felt so good to be filled up, specially by someone you had wanted to fuck for so long. Light curses and a mention of your name left his lips, he gave a couple more thrusts trying to ride down his high, and finally pulled out of you.
Hotch had taken the lead on himself to let you enjoy your orgasm; he continued to jerk off at a fast pace in front of you, his tip basically rubbing the side of your face. You were about to take him back in when he moved, and you noticed he was walking towards your rear. Panic drew in your eyes, and you cried out beggingly “Aaron, please don’t, I can’t take anymore.” you whispered in his direction.
“It’ll be one second.” he said, and you braced yourself for yet another round of overstimulation. Instead, you felt how his tip slid in an out a couple of times, and he walked back to have his hips at the same level as your face. You watched in awe how his member was coated in what seemed like cum, and you looked up with surprise “If I remember correctly, you wanted to taste him” if your brain hadn’t been just freshly fucked, you would have given than man round three right there. You opened your mouth widely, and he pressed his shaft once again. He held you still by the head as he continued to thrust, considerably faster this time, and moments after he pushed deeply in, allowing his release to spill inside your mouth. He must have been pent up, because it became a little hard to hold all of it in. Your tongue rolled around, taking a second to taste both loads along with some of your own fluids.
He pulled back after he made sure everything was released, but his hand tugged at your chin to force it up and closed, not permitting that anything were to spill. “Truth or dare.” he asked as the final question of the game.
“Dare” you barely mumbled.
“Swallow.” was his last command, and you more than happily obliged.
Spencer stood in shock watching the scene, like whatever had taken over him had finally left his body. Hotch seemed to be the same, his stern glare softening once again to the relaxed one he had outside of work. Reid hurried to get the key and undid the bind on your hands, Hotch grabbed your shoulders and helped you straighten back up so you could be standing once again. “You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.
“I don’t think my throat is in the right place because of you, and you ask if I’m okay?” you snarked playfully. The three of you shared a laugh, and Hotch offered a sincere apology, which you shrugged off since it was not big deal, not like you didn’t enjoy it anyways. Spencer walked back to his desk to slide into his pants, suddenly self-conscious about his body being exposed, and threw his shirt loosely over his shoulders before starting to gather your clothes together.
Your boss reached for his jacket and laid it over your shoulders before he started to get dressed as well “Reid.” he said in a commanding voice, back to the boss demeanor he usually had “Help her get cleaned up and then take her home.” he turned at you instead “I don’t want you driving after that, got it?” his words made you blush slightly, he seemed like a completely different person, but you nodded in response.
“You’re not going out with us?” Spencer asked curiously.
“I need to oversee that the floor gets cleaned and Emiliy’s desk gets…” he made a pause, looking at the surface covered in sweat and other fluids “…burned down, hopefully” he joked. Both of you agreed with the statement, but before Reid could direct you to the office's bathroom, Hotch took a step forward in between the two of you “Hey,” he spoke up to get your attention, his hands laid gently on your face once it turned to him and he leaned in to place a gentle, but deep, kiss to your lips “thank you for tonight, I had a lovely evening.” he smiled as he spoke.
You tried your best to suppress a wide smile “Well,” you started “I would say ‘anytime’, but this club kind of only gets together once a year.” you joked.
“Can’t wait until next year, then.” he answered without even looking up as he revised the countless messages that he got while he was occupied. He patted Reid on the shoulder as a goodbye and headed back to his office.
After everything was clean on your body, and you didn’t look like you had just been attacked by hyenas, Spencer walked you out of the FBI building. The trip down the elevator being slightly too quiet for someone who had just moved your liver to a completely different position. Your legs began to wobble again, feeling like they were going to give in, and Spencer stepped closer to offer his body for support. “You can lean on me.” he said with a gentle smile, and you took his word “By the way, you still owe me one answer that, if I remember correctly, was cruelly taken from me.” he said as he chuckled recalling the scene.
You laughed along “Alright, rules are rules, do you want to ask the same question, or would you like to change it?”
“Actually, I think I’ll change it.” his arm darted out to surround your shoulders with it, making the position more stable for you “Would you like to do this again sometime? Minus Hotch, of course.” he diverted his gaze as he asked.
You tilted your head with surprise, yet another blush creeping at your face. “You mean, like, next Valentine’s?” you asked with genuine surprise.
“Well, that, or,” he chuckled to himself, finally daring to look back at you “next Friday? Preferably after dinner.”
There was no holding back the bright smile that appeared on your face, or the flutter in your stomach. Your head leaned on his shoulder, and you could feel his land on top of yours in a loving embrace.
“Deal.”
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bensonstablers · 10 months
Link
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi
Additional Tags: POV Third Person, POV Emily Prentiss, Season/Series 07
Summary:
'Tonight is about Will and JJ so Emily has tried to keep things quiet for now. Her news will come and it’ll hurt them all, she knows, but for now, she’s content with being able to quietly say goodbye. At least for all but one.
Her eyes fall on Hotch.'
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roselilies · 21 days
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street-smarts00 · 1 month
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Clingy
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)
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WC: 3.7k
Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 
Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort
A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.
You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 
After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 
At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.
Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 
It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 
Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 
You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 
When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 
Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 
He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 
You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 
He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 
“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 
He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 
“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”
“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.
“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 
“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 
“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 
His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.
“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 
“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 
“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 
“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 
“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 
Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 
Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 
Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 
“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 
“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 
Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.
“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 
Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 
He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 
The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 
Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 
He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 
Something about you.
His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 
~
Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 
The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  
Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 
“Hey,” you greeted. 
“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 
“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 
“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.
He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 
“Huh?” 
“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 
“Oh.” 
“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 
You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 
“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 
The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 
You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 
He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 
He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 
“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 
“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 
“Do you wanna lie down?” 
You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 
“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 
His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 
“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 
You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 
You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 
“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 
You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 
He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 
So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 
He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 
He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 
“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 
“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 
You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 
This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 
“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 
He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“
“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 
You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 
“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 
He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  
“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 
You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 
“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 
“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 
His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 
“Yes you were.” 
“Y/N please,” he begged. 
“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 
He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 
“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 
“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 
“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 
You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 
“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 
He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”
 Here we go. Flood gates. 
“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 
“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 
“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 
The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 
“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”
He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 
Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 
He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 
When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 
Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 
The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”
“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 
“That too,” he chuckles. 
After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 
Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.
“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 
He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”
His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 
There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag Requests: @nomajdetective
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Text
do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
part two
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
———————————————
Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
4K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 17 days
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Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 
Including your most recent problem  child. 
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 
“Harper, that's not how it works-” 
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 
“It was that obvious?” 
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 
“Secret part?” 
“To make the other baby, silly!” 
3K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 2 months
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Beyond the limit
>> Part two: the breaking point
Spencer is hesitant when you ask him to be rough, but when he realizes how much you enjoy it, he wonders just how far he can push your limit.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) dom spence, guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation (use of slut), orgasm control, hairpulling, choking, overstimulation, creampie, cumplay, squirting, rough sex, so many body fluids
a/n: 4k words for 4k followers! Thank you all so much, consider this as a token of my appreciation. This one is for you, I love you all ♡
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Spencer considered himself as someone with a strong sense of self-control... until he found himself on top of you, right between your legs. How could he resist when your body felt so soft against his? When all his restraint seemed to vanish into thin air?
He had you pinned against the bed, his palms tracing your hips before moving to your breast. You moaned out his name as your nipples hardened against the thin material of your shirt—his shirt, to be exact. After all, it was how it all started.
The moment he was greeted by the view of your perfect ass when he came home from work, barely covered by his shirt you were wearing, something in him snapped. You looked so damn good, so damn tempting, practically begging to be touched.
It didn’t take long for him to discard his bag onto the floor before scooping you in his arms. You simply giggled, amused at his sudden urgency yet eagerly welcoming it as he led you into your shared bedroom.
Now he was right between your thighs, pressing his hard erection right against your panties. You could feel yourself getting wet by the friction and you found yourself parting your legs even further, grinding your hips along with his as his mouth continued to suck on the spot right below your ear.
Anytime you whimpered, he gripped you tighter, and your shaky hands clutched onto button-down shirt. There was something about him still dressed in his work clothes while you were nearly half-naked, his shirt bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half exposed. And you liked it. It made you feel vulnerable being pressed under him like this, sparking a strange desire to submit to him completely.
And now you craved more. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take the lead. But to your dismay, his movements suddenly slowed down, leaving you momentarily confused because you could feel the way he was holding back. His hands were trembling against your body as if he was consciously avoiding being rough.
You slid your hands up to his chest, lightly pushing him away and he quickly drew back. His brows furrowed as he gazed down at you. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"
Shaking your head, you reassured him. "No," you replied softly. "But... you don't have to hold yourself back for my sake, you know.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I mean, I know you're trying to be careful, but... I want you to take control, without holding back. I want... more.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features. "You want me to... be rough?" he asked cautiously.
You nodded, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "I do."
"But I- I don't want to hurt you."
You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I trust you, Spence. I trust us. And I want you to trust yourself too."
His expression softened under your touch. You took it as enough of a sign to push forward as your thumb swept back and forth across his jaw.
"If it's too much I'll tell you," you assured him.
He searched your eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering within his gaze. "What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
You bit your lip, studying his face for a moment before responding. "I think I'll like it if you do," you confessed, your cheeks flushing slightly. "But we don't have to do anything crazy you're not comfortable with. We don't necessarily have to do something you don't want to."
Spencer swallowed hard, processing your words. "So what do you want then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your hand slid up the length of his jaw until your fingers slipped into his hair. Very carefully you gripped a handful of his curly strands in your fist. "Do whatever you want, baby," you answered. "Mark my skin. Pull my hair. Talk me through it."
You noticed the way his lips twitched at your words and you smiled.
"Fuck me hard," you demanded boldly.
His breath hitched as he searched your eyes. He definitely wanted to do those things, too. When he finally relaxed into your touch, a rush of anticipation surged through you, your heart beating rapidly.
"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.
You nodded, gripping his hair a bit harder, enjoying the way his breathing grew shallower. "Please," you whispered, your voice filled with desire.
With a barely audible groan, Spencer gave in to your request, his resolve melting away as his lips crashed against yours. Your pulse sped up excitedly in your chest in response—this was exactly what you wanted. That pure, raw desire that was too strong for him to contain. When he finally pulled away, he was breathing even heavier now, his shoulders heaving with each audible inhale.
"If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way," he declared firmly. "You will listen to me, understood?"
You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at the commanding tone of his voice. "Yes," you replied breathlessly.
And just when you thought he was about to delve into another kiss, he surprised you by pulling away. He sat back, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. "Sit up and lean back on the pillow," he commanded.
Your heart raced as you complied, eagerly following his lead.
"Take off the shirt... leave your panties on."
You followed, leaning forward, your fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to his eyes. His predatory gaze was locked on your breasts, noticing the way your nipples hardened as the cold air brushed your skin. When you leaned back again, he dragged the tips of his fingers up your thighs, gripping your waist for a moment before another demand left his lips.
"Spread your pretty legs," his soothing voice told you, staring intently between your thighs. You did as you were told, parting your knees, your feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
"Now touch yourself." You gulped at his tone, sliding your fingers inside your panties. He suddenly called out your name in a warning, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks. "Over your panties, I'll tell you when to touch yourself directly."
You nodded, letting your fingers hover over the fabric of your panties. You let out a gasp when you felt how drenched you were before you found your clit. You were hyperaware of every movement you were making, you realized, and it turned you on way more than it should. You choked on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as felt the sensation growing along your body.
You suddenly felt a hand gripping your jaw and you quickly opened your eyes, greeted by him staring down at you. "Keep your eyes on me."
There was nothing else for you to do but to oblige. Your fingers continued to press down your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud desperately as he released his hold on your jaw before trailing down your chest, teasing your aching nipples. You whimpered and watched as his eyes traveled down your body.
Spencer hungrily took in the way your legs were spread apart before him, the way you were touching yourself so eagerly. Your fingers moved rapidly over your panties, the material now too drenched as it slipped between your folds every time you moved. Your pussy was barely covered and he could see your arousal dripping down your legs.
"Look at you," he mused, his hand traveling down your body, resting slightly at the inner part of your thigh. "You like putting on a little show, don't you?"
Your breaths came out in shallow, eager gasps, but when you attempted to increase your pace, he quickly shook his head. "Slower. We don't want to rush."
You complied, adjusting your movements to match his pace, and he rewarded you with a smile. "That's it. Nice and slow," he praised, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.
Through hooded eyes, you watched as he began to undress, each deliberate movement teasingly slow. His tie came first, followed by his shirt which he discarded carelessly onto the floor. His pants followed suit, and when he was completely naked, your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his exposed body.
Your fingers on your own body slowed down as you took in the sight before you, the way he slowly gripped the base of his cock before squeezing it hard.
"Don't you stop, I didn't tell you to stop," he reminded you, his voice firm.
With a sharp inhale, you resumed your movements, the urgency returning as you focused on pleasuring yourself under his watchful gaze. Then as if to taunt you, he began pumping his length slow and steady as your eyes focused in on the motions.
"S-Spence," you whined, pushing your hips faster against your hand, trying to keep your rhythm in check though the sight of him pleasuring himself had you so weak in the moment. "I- I wanna take my panties off."
He gripped his cock tighter, working his fist quicker along the length as his breaths deepened. "Yeah? You wanna see how wet you are?"
His words sent a surge of warmth through your body, spreading from between your thighs to your cheeks as your fingers quickened in pace and your legs spread further for him to see. "Yes-yes- please," you begged.
"Such a desperate slut," he muttered. His crude words shouldn't have brought you pleasure, but they did, and your tight walls clenched around nothing. He noticed the effect it had on you and smiled. "You liked that, huh? You liked being called a slut?"
You gulped, your fingers moving faster. "Y-Yes."
He simply hummed in response, snaking his hands between you, finally slipping off your panties down your legs. His fingers then gripped the soft plush of your thigh, spreading you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massaged soothing shapes into your skin.
He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, taking in the mess between your legs. His gaze traveled your stomach, up to your perky breasts, before meeting your half-lidded eyes. He then slowly took your hand and your jaw slacked open when he abruptly sucked your fingers into his mouth.
His tongue felt hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dipped between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. A wave of heat traveled through you as he held your gaze, licking off your fingers one last time before guiding them back between your thighs.
"Keep going," he instructed, and you wasted no time in rubbing your clit feverishly. Your face twisted with pleasure, brow wrinkled, body tense, and each circle around your sensitive flesh brought you closer to the edge. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets underneath you and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds.
"Do you hear that? You're getting so loud. So wet," he gritted out. His eyes flickered up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. "You're close, aren't you?"
You looked over to him. The view of his hand gripping his cock drew you so close to the edge you were balancing on, all the while attempting to feign control to give him the show he requested.
"Y- Yes," you admitted breathlessly, your body trembling with need.
He hummed a reply, soothing your thigh with his other hand. "Be a good girl and beg for it."
A choked whine escaped your lips.
"P-Please, let me come," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought his permission to release the tension coiling in your stomach.
"Ask nicely," he said, his tone firm yet encouraging. "Can I what?"
"Can I... I-I come?" you stammered, your eyes fluttering close, fingers moving rapidly on your clit.
"Look at me. Ask again."
Your eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Can I-I come?" you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing your urgent desire.
"I can't hear you."
A moan ripped out of you, your body shaking uncontrollably under his gaze. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold on. "P-Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. "Please let me come, I-I can't hold on much longer..."
"Louder," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire, and that was when everything snapped. It was no longer a plea; instead, you were babbling incoherent words, unable to contain the overwhelming need coursing through your body.
"I-I'm s-sorry, I-I can't—" you cried, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.
But it was too late. Your resolve shattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of your desire. With a tear falling down your cheek, you locked eyes with him desperately as your climax crashed over you, consuming you entirely in its wave of ecstasy. It crept up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaked before slamming right into you.
Something in him snapped. Spencer never imagined he would enjoy having this much control over your body, but in this moment, he did. It was twisted, and although a hint of remorse flickered within him, his desire overpowered any sense of guilt.
Even as your body trembled uncontrollably from the intensity of your orgasm, he acted on impulse, flipping you over to lie on your stomach. The shift in position only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal need to dominate and possess you completely.
A moment later his hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack that drew a gasp out of you. He then crawled over you as his knees landed on either side of your thighs, the mattress bowing under his weight. Both of his hands dropped roughly down onto your ass, kneading the soft flesh.
You felt him lining his cock up with your entrance, your eyes closing in anticipation of him filling you. And then he plunged himself into you in one swift, sharp thrust which had your head dropping down into your pillow, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle the cry of pleasure that flew out of you.
He began pumping into you, his pace was slow at first, long strokes of drawing his cock out and back in earning quiet whimpers from you against the pillow. One of his hands released your hip before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling.
"Stop burying yourself," he grunted. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."
You let out a moan, body shaking with every thrust of his hips, the room spinning as he picked up his pace. You felt the slow withdrawal of his cock as his hips drew back from you, but you weren't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into you seconds after while tightening his grip on your hair.
A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you at the feel of it. Encouraged, he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher. You moaned loudly in response, your hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.
"That's my girl," he praised. "Just like that, let me hear how good my cock makes you feel."
Your eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his words, your mouth going slack. Spencer was as loud as you as he repeatedly buried his cock in you over and over again. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had your eyes rolling back behind closed lids, your mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.
He then lowered onto his left forearm as his front molded over your back. The hard, solid feel of him behind you had you pressing back up into him, teeth gritting together as his cock buried itself somehow further inside of you. He released his grip on your hair, his hand swiftly moving to encircle your throat.
A moan escaped your lips as you felt the slight pressure of his grip, a surge of arousal coursing through you. His hand slid up further, encircling the bottom of your jaw as he carefully pulled your head backward, drawing it towards his shoulder until his mouth was beside your ear.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your breath hitched at his proximity, the heat of his body searing against your back as you struggled to form a coherent response. You could only manage a breathless nod in response.
"Let's see how far I can ruin you," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you despite the underlying threat in his words.
As his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips, surrendering completely as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into you. You were panting hard, your head tilted back against his shoulder.
His lips pressed onto the sensitive spot just between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin while he mercilessly fucked you, his sweat-slicked body still flush to the back of you as he continued his fast, relentless pace. You were vaguely aware of his ragged, drawn-out groan and you could tell he was close.
It was evident in the way he was starting to lose control, his grip tightening around your throat as his breath grew hot and heavy against you. He was on the brink of spiraling, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over completely to please him.
"T-That's it, baby," you moaned. "You fuck me so good."
It was enough to make him come undone. He released inside of you, panting and huffing as he gave into the bliss. His motions slowed but he continued spilling inside your drenched walls, sweat beading against his forehead, lips parted, and face flushed. You squeezed yourself around him just to hear him suck in a sharp breath, gulping and exhaling with his brow wrinkled before he pulled out.
But when you thought he was done with you, he flipped you onto your back again. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release. He ran his fingers over your outer lips, spreading you open to have a better view of the white liquid trickling down your ass. He was quick to collect it with his fingers, tracing it up your folds so he could messily rub it over your clit.
"S-Spence..."
Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, yet he didn't mind the mess he made between your legs. "You should see yourself," he muttered. "You're so pretty like this."
And then to your surprise, he positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance again. You gasped, prompting yourself on your elbows as you looked down between your legs, wondering how on earth he was still so hard. Then a moan left your lips as you watched him slowly sinking into you again.
"Look at how I'm stretching you," he murmured, pushing his hips further. Both of your eyes were locked on the way your pussy stretched so wide around his girth. His previous release slipped back inside you every time his cock disappeared into your wet cunt, white cream coating around his length.
He moaned when your walls clenched around him, his eyes flickering between your face and the way his cock was stretching you. Spencer should have stopped. You were both too tired and too sensitive to continue further. Even his body ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward as your walls swallowed his cock eagerly, practically begging for more.
The rational part of his brain urged him to pause, but the primal, carnal desire within him overrode any sense of restraint. Ignoring the way your body shook with exhaustion and the tension in his own muscles, he focused solely on the intense heat between your legs. So he continued to fuck you.
He was fucking you to the point where you couldn't even moan anymore, your voice caught in your throat with each thrust. He was fucking you so good there were tears in your eyes but you couldn't whimper or blink, you were just staring up at him, wordless and in awe, nails digging in his arms while your knees brushed up close to your shoulders.
He was fucking you roughly, dipping down every so often to press his lips to yours, the times he was not whispering encouragement, telling you how pretty you look, how wet you were, how much of a slut you were, and good you felt wrapped around him. And you could feel it, you could feel how good you were as your walls clamped down, sucking him in.
He thrust into you ruthlessly, consumed by a primal need to push you to your limits, to explore just how much you could take of him. Then when you felt that coil spreading along your limbs, you finally came without saying a word. But he didn't stop, continuing to fuck you into your next orgasm, and even when the sensation began to feel too overwhelming, he abused your clit with his thumb.
That was when everything blurred. The overwhelming pleasure finally consumed you entirely, rendering rational thought as a surge of liquid gushed out between your legs. He moaned in surprise at the sensation, his desire only fueled further by your response.
"Do that again," he begged, his voice husky with need as he continued to roll his hips into you. And you did, another wave of pleasure crashing over you as you drenched everything around you—his body, the sheets, every surface within reach. He moaned again, acutely aware of the mess you created.
Your grip on him slowly loosened and a pang of guilt hit him as he realized your body was already exhausted. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to use you once more. Your silence urged him to continue, thrusting into you relentlessly, your slicked-sweat skin sliding against his as he chased his second orgasm of the night.
He finally came with a grunt, his hips pumping into you with desperation, once, twice, before finally stilling. You cried out at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the quickening of his breath, the hard grip of his hand on your skin, the throbbing ache between your legs.
Your vision suddenly became a hazy blur, and you gasped for breath, struggling to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Despite your shaking form, Spencer managed to pull you into his embrace.
“I-I got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of emotions as the rush of dominance that had driven him moments ago was replaced by a wave of panic. He continued to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he whispered soothing words into your ear.
You focused on controlling your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you sought to regain your composure. Gradually, the haze began to lift, and after a moment passed, you found yourself able to see clearly once again. Your eyes traveled to him, and with a tired and sleepy smile, you leaned into his touch.
Spencer released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "We are never doing that again."
"What? Why?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.
"You scared me!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and exasperation. "What if you passed out? What if I had to take you to the hospital and—and explain that—"
"That I passed out because your dick was too good?"
He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're impossible," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You grinned up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gesture. "But you love me anyway."
His smile softened as he gazed down at you. "I do."
"And I love you," you assured him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. And be honest with me, you seriously don't want to do that again? Wasn't that hot?"
His cheeks flushed slightly at your question, and he hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Intense," he finally admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "But maybe we should take it slow next time."
"Spencer, you were the one that kept going."
He gave you a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away a little," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.
“A little?”
“Fine, more than a little,” he confessed. “But you didn't stop me either."
"That's because I was enjoying myself."
His embarrassment faded into amusement. "You're going to be the death of me one day, you know that?"
You grinned playfully at his remark. "Only if you're lucky," you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He studied you, taking in the warmth in your eyes and the happy but serene smile that graced your lips as a surge of affection washed over him. "Then I must be the luckiest man alive."
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
Text
Decoy [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 6.9k
summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.
warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension
Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case
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You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.
You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.
All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.
But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.
"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.
“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”
"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"
“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.
“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.
Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.
“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”
"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”
“We can use our own team”
"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"
"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"
"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”
“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.
"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.
Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 
You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.
“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 
"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.
"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.
He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.
At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.
The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.
Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.
“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"
"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 
"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.
You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.
We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.
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As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.
Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.
Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.
When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.
"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"
"And meanwhile what do we do?"
"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"
“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.
“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"
“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"
“When the suspect approaches, yes”
"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.
My God, could that man make you more nervous?
When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.
"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"
"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"
“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”
"This is not a play"
"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”
"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.
“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”
“I actually know some good ones”
"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."
"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"
"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?
Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.
“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.
You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.
“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.
“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."
"Why you said so?"
“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.
"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."
“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.
"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"
"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."
You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.
“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."
"I am nervous"
"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"
"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"
"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"
"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"
"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"
"Smooch me?"
"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.
"That's not a picnic, Y/N"
You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.
You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.
"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.
"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.
"Is that our unsub?"
"It is"
You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.
"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.
“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"
"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.
You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?
"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.
You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.
“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.
You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 
It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.
There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.
The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.
“He started the trailer. He's going to go"
Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.
Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.
"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.
"Take... what?"
"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"
But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 
He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 
His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.
You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.
Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.
As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.
"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.
That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 
And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.
You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.
Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.
From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.
"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.
"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.
You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.
"How are you?"
"Very good, excellent" you stammered.
You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.
After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.
"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.
“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Don't you even dare make fun of this"
“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."
"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.
Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.
"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 
"Fine, and you?"
"Fine too"
You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.
"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"
"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?
Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.
"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"
“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”
"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."
“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.
While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.
"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.
“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”
“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."
"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"
“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"
"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"
Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.
“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”
“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."
You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.
"Then I'd love to, Reid."
“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"
“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.
It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.
“Today?”
"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.
“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”
It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.
Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.
"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"
"It did"
"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.
Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.
"Do you want to go after work, then?"
“Sounds good to me”
Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.
So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.
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luveline · 9 months
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i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏
ty for ur request :D fem!reader
"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?" 
Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?" 
"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there." 
"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks." 
Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.
"That long?" you ask. 
Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them." 
"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise. 
Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.
"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases. 
Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending. 
"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?" 
You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence." 
"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.
You would've died. "Before I joined?" 
"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?" 
He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!" 
Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds." 
He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves. 
"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee. 
You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks. 
"I'm okay. Headache," you lie. 
Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you." 
Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding. 
"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?" 
"Yeah?" you choke out. 
"You look really nice today, too." 
Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses. 
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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months
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Unexpected Visitor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader
WC: 788
A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.
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"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .
Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.
He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"
You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."
"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.
You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"
"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."
"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.
"y/n?"
You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"
"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."
Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.
"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.
"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"
"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."
"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--
"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.
"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"
"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."
"Oh how is Jack!"
"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."
You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--
"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"
"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."
"W-Well, um--"
"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.
"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.
"I think today is their two year anniversary."
"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"
"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."
"No we clearly do not know Hotch."
Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."
As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."
"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"
"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."
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forhappysake · 3 months
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We're Okay
A/N - Guys idk where this came from. I guess I'm just feeling emotional and inspired.
Content - After JJ admits her decade-long love for Spencer, you and your boyfriend have to have a conversation to calm both of your doubts and fears.
Warnings: spencer reid x fem!reader, season 14 spoilers, anxiety, mentions of typical BAU-level crime stuff, fluff at the end
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You walked in the door slowly, cautionary even; afraid the smallest noise would bring reality crashing down on you. The car ride home had been completely silent, as neither of you bothered to turn on the radio. Spencer shuffled in behind you, the click of the lock making you wince as you did your best to avoid his gaze. You stripped off your coat, throwing it over the couch before walking straight into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind you. 
As you started the shower and stripped off your clothes, the evening’s events rushed back into your mind. Being involved in a hostage situation with an unstable unsub was one thing. JJ being held at gunpoint was worse. However, as if all that wasn’t enough, JJ admitting her decade-long hidden love for Spencer was the final nail in the coffin. As you climbed into the shower, you did your best to let the water wash away the thoughts running through your head. 
Unfortunately, your attempt was unsuccessful. As you dried off and wrapped yourself in a towel, your mind raced. You’d been dating Spencer for nearly a year and a half. The two of you had just recently moved in together. Having known him and JJ for at least half a decade, you knew they were close, but you never would have guessed this was coming. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way she did. If so, what did this mean for your relationship?
After stalling in the bathroom for so long that goosebumps dotted your freshly dried body, you mustered up the courage to slip out of the bathroom and into the bedroom that you shared with Spencer. As you walked across the hallway, you could see his silhouette sitting on the living room couch, head bent forward. You couldn’t tell if he was reading or in deep thought, but you decided that either option was better than the alternative: trying to have a conversation. 
You snuck into the bedroom, gently turning on the bedroom light and letting your eyes adjust to the warm glow of your room. You meandered to the closet, pulling out a simple t-shirt and shorts to sleep in. Slipping into your pajamas and stealing a glance at yourself in the vanity mirror, you noticed one of the many images covering the tabletop. 
A framed photograph from less than a year ago of JJ, Will, Spencer, and yourself with the boys on a weekend hiking trip. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest and wondered if Will had any idea what was going on in JJ’s head. You shook the thought away, reminding yourself that you had bigger problems of your own to deal with. You turned back to the bed, sliding under the covers and turning off the light. Despite your distress, you were exhausted and you found yourself losing track of time and drifting off to sleep in mere minutes. 
*  *  *
You awoke to the sound of the bedroom door latching shut. You rolled over, blinking your eyes open in an attempt to sneak a peak at your bedside alarm clock. You’d already been asleep for three hours and Spencer was just now coming to bed. It was well after midnight, and you knew that meant he had been up thinking about something. You figured it would be best not to push the subject after everything that had happened. 
With your eyes shut, you waited to feel the familiar sensation of Spencer climbing into bed. Instead, you felt his weight at the foot of the bed, as if he had perched himself on the end. You tried not to think much of this and did your best to fake sleep. However, it soon became apparent that Spencer was on to you. 
“I know you’re awake,” he said gently. His voice was gruff from the hours he’d spent in silence. Spencer waited before speaking again, “I think we should talk about what happened.” 
There it is, you thought. Your stomach sank as your eyes fluttered open. You rolled over to face him, leaning up on your arms. It was then you noticed that he was still in his suit. His unkempt hair fell over his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the disheveled man in front of you. “Alright,” you relented, still refusing to meet his eyes, “what do you want to talk about?”
Spencer rolled his neck, tension evident in his movements. “I want to know how you feel about what was said earlier,” he said. For the first time in hours, you met his eyes, trying to gauge his sincerity. You found no signs of dishonesty, so you fell back on the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. 
“I don’t know, Spencer,” you groaned. “I definitely was surprised. I definitely wasn’t thrilled.” Spencer nodded, moving some hair away from his eyes as you spoke. “But,” you started again, “it’s not like we can go back and change it now.” 
He reached an arm out, putting a hand over the covers on top of your knee. “I know,” he whispered, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 
You scoffed a bit at his sincerity and his innocence, meeting his eyes once more. “And how do you feel about it?” you asked. 
Spencer bit his lip in thought. You could tell you had caught him off guard with the question, and he seemed to be calculating his response. “Can I be honest with you?” he said. 
You raised your eyebrows, the nervous feeling in your stomach intensifying. Is this where he tells you he feels the same way and leaves for good? You pushed your thoughts to the side. “Always,” you whispered.
He sighed, laying back on the bed so he was next to you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his warmth. You knew this wasn’t the time, so you held yourself back and held your breath, awaiting his response. 
“First, I was confused,” Spencer explained, eyes locked on the ceiling. “I haven’t thought about JJ like that in over ten years. Frankly, I never knew she thought of me that way, so I was caught off-guard.” 
So he did have a crush on her at one time, you thought. You were ready to close your eyes in defeat, to slip off the bed and out of the apartment and never come back when he cleared his throat. 
“But then,” he started once more, “I had a quick epiphany of all the moments she’d gone out of her way for me, and I could understand where she was coming from.” You turned to look at him, watching his eyes scan the ceiling as he tried to come up with his next statements. 
“And?” you asked, prompting him to continue. 
“And then,” he continued your previous statement, “I was terribly appalled.” 
Your head, which had turned to the ceiling, snapped back in his direction. You felt your eyebrows raise and your jaw drop open a bit in surprise. “Appalled?” you asked, confusion evident in your expression. 
“Appalled,” Spencer echoed, sitting up on the edge of the bed once more and looking back at you. 
“Why?” you asked. 
Spencer shook his head, looking around the room. “I’ve been thinking about that for the last couple hours, and I’ve come up with a lot of reasons,” he mused. “I know she was in a tight place, but Will deserves better than that. The boys deserve better than that. But aside from them,” he leaned over on the bed, intertwining his fingers with yours, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you must have thought. I was so afraid of your reaction and of losing you.”
Despite your evident emotional state as tears pooled in your eyes, you tried to play it off. “Spencer, this isn’t about me,” you reminded him. 
“Yes,” he said, lying next to you, “it is.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, pulling some curls out of his eyes. “Everyone knows how much I love you. I know how scary something like this can be. But you have to know that I have no idea where this came from and that anything JJ and I had died, on my end, long before I ever met you.” 
You glanced over at him, the sincerity in his voice had moved you to believe him. For a moment, you forgot about JJ and Will, the boys, and the implications of her words. You offered his fingers a small squeeze. “So we’re okay?” you asked in a tiny voice. 
“More than,” Spencer whispered. 
He rolled on his side to face you and you mirrored his actions. He wrapped his arms tight around your body, the textured material of his suit jacket pressed against your cheek. A gentle kiss was pressed to your forehead and you found yourself falling back into sleep. After several minutes passed, you felt Spencer’s voice rumble through his chest for a final time before he succumbed to sleep: “Ever since I met you,” he mumbled, smoothing some stray hairs away from your face, “it’s always been you.”
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Let’s appreciate this man’s hands… and his muscle memory in the second picture😝💋
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bensonstablers · 1 year
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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Additional Tags: POV Third Person, POV Emily Prentiss, First Kiss, Scars, Season/Series 05
Summary:
'When Emily stepped into Hotch's office she didn't expect to find him there but more specifically, she didn't expect to find him standing behind his desk with his shirt unbuttoned and wide open, his chest and his scars clear as day. She quickly whirls around and closes the door so no one else will walk in. It only hits her then that she should have left instead of shutting herself inside.'
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pathologicalreid · 5 months
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nicknames | S.R.
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in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.
word count: 591
a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)
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You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.
Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.
JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”
You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.
Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”
“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.
Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”
You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”
JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.
Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”
As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”
He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.
He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.
Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”
The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.
You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”
Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.
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strawbeerossi · 7 months
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The Ballad Of Dr. Reid
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: When you zone out in the middle of one of your lectures, your professor asks you to stay after class to check in on you.
Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, Professor/Student, age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), minor hand kink, porn with little plot, heated kissing, fingering, spit, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda, right?), reader gets a facial
Word Count: 1.9K
Kinktober Day Two: Power Imbalance
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You’d always had a liking for criminal justice, so taking the courses in college seemed like a no brainer. You really liked Criminology 1424. It was an interesting class, one that piqued your interest far more than the other classes you were in the process of taking. 
In addition to being genuinely interested in the subject, you were more interested in the professor of the class; Dr. Spencer Reid.
He was soft spoken for the most part, a little on the awkward side but that was okay. He was experienced from his fifteen years in the Behavioral Analysis Unit and would use cases he’d faced for examples in his lessons. His lectures were long and albeit pretty boring at times but you had no problem watching the man at the front of class talk, his hands emphasizing just how prepared he was for the topic at hand. You’d realized that there were topics he definitely enjoyed getting into, his body language and his overexaggerated gestures being proof of it.
You’d always thought the FBI and the darkness he faced on a near daily basis would exhaust him, make him harder and more stoic, the seriousness of the world on his shoulders. No, instead he offered smiles, helped any student who came to him, and was painfully oblivious to the amount of young men and women auditing the class just to admire the attractive professor.
It was like any other lecture, delving into the intricacies of triggers and what could bring them on. It was a lesson he liked, judging by his animation this evening. You’d done your best to keep up, to get plenty of notes jotted down due to this being on the impending final. However, you were too busy drooling over the curly haired beauty, his veined hands flailing with each word that fell from his lips. 
What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your body, to feel the gentle touch of your professor as he was letting his fingertips memorize all the dips and curves of your body, to familiarize himself with how to pleasure you.
His hands on-
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
You were snapped from your thoughts. The sound of your name falling from his mouth was like sweet honey, drizzling over your eardrums as you could feel your face heat up from embarrassment. Great. Now the whole class is looking at you. 
“Y-Yes, I’m okay. I’m sorry, just, uh, not all the way here today.” You explained, slowly looking back down at the notebook covered in scribbles. So much for getting any work done today. 
The class passed by painfully slowly after that. Even the attractive man in front of you didn’t seem to speed up the clock. You’d sat quietly, giving up with the notes aspect as you’d switched to doodling on the edges of your notebook. You’d done your best to try and be one of the first ones out whenever your professor dismissed the class full of students. However your shoulders slumped with defeat when the sea of bodies filed out first.
There was no clean getaway.
“Y/N, do you mind staying back and having a chat?”
Fuck.
Mustering up enough courage to face the man you’d gotten distracted fantasizing about, you were approaching his desk. Even up close, he was a beautiful man. Even in his early to mid forties, he still looked delicious. “I apologize for getting distracted earlier. I was just-”
“Looking at me? Y/N,” There was a deep breath that left his lips. “You can tell me if this tie is ugly. My coworker Penelope insisted I wear it. I love her but some of her ties aren’t really my style.” 
He was joking, easing the awkwardness and the unknown tension filling the lecture hall. Maybe he’d been feeling the same way about you. He looked at you a lot as is, however you may have just been in a delusional state of mind right now. There was a hope that Spencer would reciprocate those feelings. “It’s not.. It’s a little ugly but that, uh, wasn’t what I was, uh, staring at.” You decided to just be honest. Worst you can do is transfer out of the class. 
Or run away to a new city, start over again at a new university. 
“Really?” 
“Really. Sir, with the risk of coming across as inappropriate, it’s hard to pay attention to you at the front of the class. It’s not a bad thing. You just always look…” You paused and gave him a once over. “Really nice.” You spoke. 
There was a blush that spread across the older man’s cheeks, an eyebrow raising. “You think so? At risk of sounding even more inappropriate and unprofessional,” He paused as he leaned forward a bit, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s hard to teach when you come in looking as beautiful as you do. Makes me just wanna stare at you the whole class.” 
The words were lower than usual, a rush of warmth going straight to your core from the mere compliment. 
“Plus when you come in with a new lipstick shade..” His lanky body was pushing off the desk before he approached, his fingers resting gently under your chin before tilting it upwards. “It drives me insane. You may think I don’t notice but…” This was crossing the boundary of teacher and student, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. “I do. Makes me think of these pretty lips wrapped around me, those eyes glossed over with pleasure.” He hummed, chuckling at the way your breath hitched, eyes locking with his. 
You didn’t know what came over you at this point, however you could help yourself as you were launching yourself forward, mouth smashing against his in a quick kiss that he seemed enthusiastic to reciprocate. His hands were gripping your waist, pulling your frame closer to his chest as the kiss filled with desire and hunger was escalating.
The next thing you knew, you were being sat against the desk at the front of the lecture hall, your eyes widening. “H-Hold on, don't you have another class??” She asked immediately as she let her hands squeeze the broad shoulders. “Yeah, in twenty minutes.” Spencer responded, hands trailing to the waistband of the pants you were wearing. The thought of having sex in a hall where anyone could walk in at any point was enough to send a shiver down your spine. You weren’t one for exhibitionism normally, however you weren’t gonna turn this down. 
“Fuck it.” Your words made a grin spread across Spencer’s face, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while working on getting your pants pulled off, panties following in one swift motion. Licking his hand, the older male didn’t waste any time before moving the wet hand between your legs, his spit working as lube as he wanted to make sure you were wet enough for the deed. Lord knows that he didn’t want you tearing at any point. 
The feeling of his fingers brushing against your clit had already sent electricity through your body, a light gasp escaping your lips. 
“Such a pretty girl, bet you haven’t ever had any man pay attention to you, huh? I can only imagine you’ve been with selfish little boys who haven’t even attempted to bring you to orgasm..” He sighed playfully, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips once more. He was addicted, drinking in your moans as his thumb was massaging your clit, one finger pushed deep in your weeping hole while he was working you open.
This was definitely something new, you didn’t really sleep around so the few times you’d engaged in casual sex were quick, rushed. You sure as hell knew that the past couple of dudes couldn’t even find your clit. You were intoxicated on his touch the small movements he made eliciting moans and gasps into his mouth. With your hips rolling against the touch, you let your eyes flutter shut. 
“As much as I hate to stop, we’ve got fifteen minutes and I’m dying to be inside of you.” He murmured against your lips, his hands moving to undo his belt before tugging his pants down his legs, boxers being pulled down soon after. The sight of his hard cock had your full attention. “Ready? You’re sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes!” You rasped, making him chuckle while his large hands were spreading your thighs apart, letting a trail of his spit fall onto your pussy before he was giving himself a few tugs. The thick tip of his shaft was spreading the spit onto your cunt, a hum falling from his lips. So pretty. God, I hate having to crunch time like this.” He groaned while letting the thick head push into your hole, your mouth falling open at the delicious burn that came with the stretch of your inner walls. If only you knew about your professor’s cock sooner.. All the stress of studying for quizzes would’ve been a million times easier.
His hips snapped without warning, a loud moan falling from your mouth while the male couldn’t help but chuckle as he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh. Can’t have anyone hearing you.” His hand barely did justice to hide your moans and cries as his hips continued to roughly thrust, the desk rocking steadily with each movement.
“Fuck. It’s like this pussy was made for me, look at the way she takes my cock and is desperate for more. So greedy.” The vulgar words from your otherwise sweet and seemingly innocent man’s mouth was strangely attractive, attractive to a level that your inner walls were spasming around the hard cock nestled deep inside of you, so far you felt like he was hitting your cervix. Then again, you could’ve just been exaggerating. 
With your fingernails digging into his clothed shoulders, you could feel a knot in your stomach, tightening so tight that you felt like the floodgates were going to burst open. 
“I-I’m gonn-” You stuttered, words muffled against his hand while Spencer nodded. 
“I’m almost there. Cum for me.” His words were husky, tone dripping with ecstasy as he let out a low groan. 
As your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, the both of you were letting out a mixture of groans, mons and even a few whimpers slipping from the older man’s lips. It was all too much, finally letting the dam break as you were letting your head fall back, mouth agape as your thighs were shaking, your creamy arousal making a ring around his cock.
There was a little whine at the emptiness you felt when his cock wasn’t inside of you, the male opting to gently move you from the desk before putting you on your knees. “Look at you. Fuck. Stick your tongue out for me. Make sure you close your eyes too. I don’t wanna give you any infections.” Even in a huffing and panting mess, he looked out for you.
Doing as you were told, you let your mouth fall open while your eyes fluttered shut, the male groaning at the sight as he roughly fisted at his cock. There was only a few pumps before his cock was twitching, it being his turn for his head to fall back as he was painting your face with his spent. The load was a lot more than you expected.
Maybe he needed this just as bad as you did. 
As the act was coming to an end, Spencer was trying to catch his breath while tugging up his pants and boxers. He’d retrieved a few tissues from his desk before leaning down to wipe your face, a light hum leaving his lips. “Maybe you can talk to me about some extra notes you could add to your doodle book. Say over coffee tomorrow morning?”
“Deal.”
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nereidprinc3ss · 25 days
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?���
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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