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ureternalmajesty · 5 months

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Bad Descisions || Spencer Reid

Warnings: Praise Kink, fingering( f receiver), hate sex, p in v, Spencer being picking on reader, enemies to lovers, creampie,uses of the name slut ,was this proofread? NOPE 18+ y’all

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Spencer. So if Spencer seems a little off I’m sorry! And I was harassed for this smut btw 🙄

If there was anything you hated more than your co-worker Spencer Reid it was crowds and parties. Here you were leaning against a wall in the corner of Rossi's House at a party he was throwing. The only reason you came was cause Garcia promised to replace the book she ruined with coffee a couple weeks beforehand.

Everyone was spread out amongst the house mingling and laughing. Some were by the bar getting drinks that Garcia was making. The only two that weren't participating would be Spencer and yourself. You looked out of place and awkward even as you stood in your corner nursing a glass of expensive red wine as your eyes trailed over everyone. Bouncing back and forth between the people that wander the room.

It was too much. Your nails started tapping against your glass of wine rhythmically as you tried to calm yourself. But you couldn't seem to do so. Not with the death glare you were getting from the corner adjacent to you from none other than Spencer fucking Reid.

You looked towards the tall messy-haired doctor with your own glare and mouthed a 'what' to him before zoning out and looking down at your glass of wine. Jolted back to reality by the voice of your co-worker's voice. You looked up eyes meeting his brown ones that looked down at you with confusion, anger, and something else. "You know you could try and mingle. You've been standing in this corner for a while you are not exactly enjoying yourself, huh?" He asked hands in his pocket. "Fuck off Reid." You spat in annoyance as your tapping against your glass sped up.

His eyebrows raised slightly as he looked at you taking a step closer to you. "No need to be grouchy L/n. I was simply checking in on my work enemy." He took his hands out of his pockets raising them in surrender with a faint smirk on his face words laced with sarcasm. "Work enemy? What are we Spencer five?" You scoffed glancing at him before taking a sip of your drink. "Well, we aren't friends L/n. And you are no friend of mine." As he looked back out at the crowd. "Besides you look like you hate this place. This isn't really your type of party." Your head snapped towards him. "Then tell me Reid what is my type of party?" You questioned glaring at the man. "You know a cafe with tea books and classical music." He shrugged as a scoff left your lips.

"I'm here for the free drinks." You mumbled leaning onto the wall ignoring his jab at you. A sigh left Spencer's lips. “You know for the second most intelligent person in the BAU you sure are an odd duck. You hate being in crowds and you didn’t come because of the party you came for free drinks. You are strange y/n.” He rambled. “Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes watching Hotch and his date leave the room only to be brought out of thoughts once again by Reid.

“You should drink and dancing you know. Normal people stuff.” He spoke as he glanced around the room. “I am normal. I like my books and drinks instead of people.” You replied causing him to snicker at you. “You normal? Please your anything but normal and you fucking know it. That’s why your lacking social skills.” He answered making your eyebrow twitch in anger. “I might be lacking social skills Spencer but at least I’m not lacking in other areas.”

Once again his eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Oh really? And what would those other areas be?” He asked turning and facing your only to be met with your side profile as you watched the crowd. “Like I would tell you.” You glanced and scoffed at him. A smirk graced his face as he took a step closer. “Why not tell me though? What’s a little confession between enemies.” A playful tone laced the words he spoke. Turning to face him you looked him over reaching out and running a finger down his tie. “You first.”

“No my work enemy you should go first. I think if any of us are going to divulge sensitive information over this topic it’s you.” He spoke as he watched your finger run over his tie. “Hmm…I like tall messy haired doctors.” You teased as you spoke slowly tugging his tie making him jolt forward. “Is that so? Your attracted to tall doctors then? That’s reasonable. I just have one question for you l/n.” He looked down at you. A cocky smile on his face that made your gut twist. “I’m a tall doctor and I’m standing in front of you. Why aren’t you making a move.” He whispered.

“Cause it’s your turn to make a move doctor.” The cocky smile on Spencer’s face morphed into a smirk. “When did the rules say I needed to be the one to make the damn move. Tall doctor. Right here.” He spoke making a hand gesture to himself. “Then fix me doctor.” You replied twirling the tie between your fingers. “What exactly needs fixing?” Eyes trailing over you as you sat your glass of wine on a table next to you. “My body.”

His eyes widened before he chuckled crossed his arms across his chest as he was once again pulled closer. “And you know I’m a busy man and what my PHDs are right?What’s wrong with your body.” Your smile now was replaced with your own smirk. “Do you think you can help or not.” You deadpanned. “Well I’m not that kind of doctor but yeah I can help.”

“Good.” You chirped your other hand playing with the fabric of his cardigan. “The shall we begin.” He whispered in a suggestive manner. The anger for each other was still there just resting at bay. The amount of drinks you’ve had and you don’t think Spencer had any drinks which was probably why you guys weren’t at each others throats as usual. “Let’s get out of here. My place?” You dragged him out of the party by his tie ignoring the whistles coming from Derek when he saw the two of you. “And here I thought you didn’t do anything social. Your place huh?” He questioned as you tossed him the keys to your car as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Yeah my place now hurry up before I change my mind I’m already regretting this.” As you closed the door and Reid jogged around to the other side getting in and took off towards your place.

—

Closed discarded on the floor as moans and the squelching sounds your wet cunt made filled the room along with Spencer’s groans as his middle and ring fingers curled with almost every thrust of his fingers. “Bet you always wanted to fuck me huh Reid? Is that why you look at me like I’m a sex toy?” You sat up a bit leaning on your forearms.

Fingers leaving your hole clenching around nothing as you whimpered. “Projecting are we? I think you wanted to fuck me that why I barely touched you and your already acting like a bitch in heat.” He mumbled pulling one of your legs over his shoulder as he rubbed his tip through your wet folds nudging your clit.

“Fuck I hate—“ you we’re cut off by Spencer thrusting into you. “Oh fuck.” You arms slipped from holding your upper body up. “What was that l/n? What do you hate?” He asked keeping his pace slow almost agitating. “I hate you.” He leaned closer one of his hands pulling your head up to his face thrusting deeper. “Prove it then. Prove it you hate me.”

Moans and whimpers falling from your lips as his pace sped up throwing your other leg on his shoulder fucking his cock into you a deep as he can trying to get any sound out of you. Your hands gripped onto his forearms on either side of you as he placed kisses along your shoulder as he fucked into your hole with vigor.

"How do you like being my toy, Spence? There, don't stop." Your eyes rolled back as the headboard struck the wall. A sudden sharp pain on the side of your thigh making you yelp at the stinging. “D-do you e-ever shut the fuck up l/n.” He groans as you open your eyes to look at him. His tussled hair lay slick with sweat in front of his forehead, and his cheeks were flushed.

You were growing desperate for release. Hands leaving his forearms as you gripped the sheets. “Fuck! Please please please.” As you uttered the words, they fell from your mouth in a begging and pleading manner, in contrast to all the times you had upset him or argued with him. “Please Reid ‘m sorry won’t be mean anymore.” Spencer sucked his teeth as he exhaled a breathy sigh of irritation before gripping your jaw making you keep eye contact with him.

“Since your such a desperate slut I’ll have to believe you.” Hand sipping from your hip down your stomach to your clit. Pressing his thumb on the bundle of nerves rubbing circles onto it. “Cum l/n and you better not forget who made you cum.” Your toes curl as your back arches off the bed as your mouth opens in a silent scream. Your body went lax as Spencer continued to fuck your pliant body.

“Now we know what shuts you up.” He quipped as you laid there fucking you impossibly deeper than before. You could feel the soreness in your legs and the sensitivity from your orgasm just seconds ago as he swipe his thumb across your clit once more making you whine in protest. “Spencer please—“

“I’m close l/n you can take one more.” His other hand gripped your side as he leaned down and bite your shoulder muffling a moan. A few thrust later and you cum again clenching around Spencer once more letting out a small moan. Hips stuttering as he thrusted in deep hips stilling as he filled your pussy.

He pulled out with a hiss and a whimper from you as his cum seeped out your hole. “I hate you.” Spencer mumbled placing kisses along your shoulder. “Yeah yeah you hate me. Love you too.” You rolled your eyes.

—

“What’s up with Reid and L/n.” Emily spoke leaning against JJ’s desk. The two looked over to see Reid sitting down her mug along with her poetry book.

“Bet you they fucked.” Garcia popped up out of nowhere. “No way.” Emily shook her head. “200 dollars they fucked.” Garcia smirked. “Your on.” Emily shook her hand as JJ shook her head and went back to her paperwork.

#ureternalmajesty #criminal minds #kinktober 2023 #i’m catching up #I’m sorry #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #small blog

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renx01 · 1 month

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Betrayed

Prompt: Your father is the head of a criminal enterprise, one which has come onto the kingsman’s radar. Galahad has the task to get closer to said head, so he starts dating you. After a lot of apprehension on your side, you finally let your walls be broken down by him. That is until you find out that he’s been using you all along. Pairing: Harry Hart x (GN!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: angst, manipulation, established relationship Word count: 2569

A soft knock on the front-door of your apartment draws you from the book you were reading, pride and prejudice. You had started reading it after your boyfriend, Harry, had recommended it to you. Standing up, you quietly walk to the door and look through the peep-hole. It was him, which was unexpected and unusual, but it excited you nonetheless, as it had been quite a while since you last saw him. He had been away on a business trip to Canada for two weeks and the time difference made calling a challenge, especially with his job requiring to stay up late often. Opening the door, you notice that he’s wearing a new suit. While it still fits his usual colour-scheme with it being a darker grey with a white pinstripe, it has some red detailing around the buttons. The fit of the three-piece-suit was impeccable as always, accentuating him in all the right places. ‘Evening Harry.’ Your voice is cheerful as you greet him, ‘ I wasn’t expecting you to be back yet.’ He smiles softly at you, ‘I was hoping to surprise you.’ Leaning down, he kisses you, after which he pulls you into a hug.

‘I missed you, love.’ You tighten your grip around him. ‘I missed you too.’

Ever since the two of you had started dating three years ago, the two of you saw each-other at least twice a week when he wasn’t on a business-trip. He kisses the top of your head before slowly letting go of the hug. ‘Tea?’ You ask him as you walk towards the kitchen, ‘or would you prefer something stronger?’ It was half past eight on a Friday evening, so having a glass of wine or bourbon together wasn’t out of the ordinary. ‘How about some whiskey?’ He replies following you, his hand on the small of your back. ‘Sounds lovely’ you smile, ‘I should have some in my liquor cabinet.’ While you grab two glasses, he looks at your collection. Since you started seeing him it has grown significantly. He enjoyed teaching you about all the different types of liquor and what effects certain techniques may have if applied to the distilling process. ‘This one?’ He holds up a bottle of Scotch after kneeling down to grab it. It was one of your favourites and he had recently bought you a new one while in Scotland. Nodding, ‘You know me too well dear.’

The two of you sit down in your home library, where you had also been sitting previously. It was your favourite place to be in, as it reminded you of your grandparent’s mansion in Italy, which you had often visited while growing up. You have always been quite the reader, so their library provided many of the books you read as a child. ‘Excuse the mess, I’ve been reading and writing all day.’ You apologise for the clutter in your desk and the many books which lay folded open next to your reading chair, annotations sprawling across their pages. ‘Don’t worry my dear,’ he smiles as he sits down across from you, ‘we both know that this is a normal part of your creative process.’ Once you’ve set down your glasses onto the table that’s standing between the two of you, he fills them with the liquor of his choice. ‘So please, don’t apologise.’ After all this time, you still felt flustered at times. He was always so well-put-together, with his exterior almost always being perfect. It was the exact opposite of how you felt at times, yet he encouraged and supported you, telling you many times that one can never be perfect and that you should be comfortable in whatever clothes you decide to wear. ‘To us.’ He states, clinking his glass to yours. ‘To us.’ You reply before tasting the brown liquid. It was as delicious as you’d remembered it to be.

‘I see you’ve picked up Austen? Is it to your liking?’ After thinking for a moment you reply, ‘I’m enjoying it quite a bit, though I am still uncertain what to think of Darcy.’ ‘Ah yes, Mr. Darcy is quite a complicated man. I suppose depending on the type of relationship one holds with him the experience can be quite different.’ He muses. The two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, reading, and drinking scotch. Only at three in the morning did you realise how much time had passed. Because of this, Harry decided to stay the night at your place. Luckily he always had some spare clothes and his own toiletries at your place. Once he’s gotten changed into his pyjamas, he joins you in the bathroom as you are brushing your teeth. Reaching over your shoulder, he grabs his own toothbrush and starts doing the same. His hair is slightly messy, with some of its waves cascading down his forehead rather than them being pushed back. He had also taken off his glasses, which made him appear slightly younger and less serious, at least to an extent.

‘Enjoying the view?’ Harry jokes as he catches you staring at him through the mirror. ‘Why yes of course,’ you turn to face him, ‘mister Hart.’ He smiles down at you. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself my love.’ Leaning in, he tenderly kisses you, slowly becoming more passionate when you put your hands into his hair, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he puts his forehead to yours. ‘We should take this to the bedroom.’

The next morning you wake up relatively late, around eleven o’clock. Harry lay there with his arm around you, his pyjama shirt still open. Soft snores fill your ear, it was quite cute to see him sleeping so peacefully. He isn’t like this often, and it is quite the exception that you are awake before him, so you decide to enjoy the moment. After a few minutes, you supposed that it’d be best to brew some tea before Harry woke up. So very carefully, you climbed out of his grip and silently walked into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on the stove, you start looking at the different teas you have. ‘English breakfast… Chamomile… Mint…’ Pondering and mumbling, you eventually choose a black tea and put in some fresh lemon slices. As the kettle boils, you are putting some yoghurt, granola, and fresh berries into two bowls. Two arms suddenly wrap themselves around your waist. ‘Morning love.’ Harry’s deep voice greets you before he leans down to kiss you on your cheek. ‘Morning dear.’ You turn and meet his lips. ‘Want to go for a run later?’ You suggest as you put your breakfast and cups of tea onto the dinner table. He shakes his head before taking a sip of his tea. ‘I was rather hoping we could go to a museum, I was thinking of Tate Britain?’ You smile, ‘That sounds lovely.’ ‘We can go out for dinner after,’ a familiar smirk creeps onto his face, ‘I may or may not have pulled some strings and gotten a table at Nobu.’ He was definitely planning something, so you decide to agree without prying much more. It became much more apparent that he was planning something after he had picked out an outfit for you, which very much complimented what he would be wearing. While it was somewhat casual for Harry’s standards, many would believe it to still be quite formal. Black slacks, a perfectly ironed white shirt, a light-grey knitted jumper, and of course, oxfords, not brogues. As it was still somewhat frigid, especially in the evening, he decided to wear a black overcoat.

After a short walk to Tate Britain, the two of you strolled around the museum for hours, admiring the many pieces of art which were being displayed. He would make comments on the techniques which were used to paint certain well-known pieces, his knowledge ranging from historic to modern art. Offering his arm, he eventually leads you to John Everett Millais’ painting Ophelia. It is a beautifully detailed painting, displaying the character as it is described in Shakespeare’s play, Hamlet. The two of you had originally found a connection through your love of literature, Shakespeare being one of the first authors which came up in your initial conversations. ‘It is quite beautiful, is it not?’ He whispers in your ear. ‘It is,’ you slowly nod, ‘must’ve been quite the undertaking to add all the details which were mentioned in the Scottish play.’ ‘That, I agree with dearest.’ He chuckles. After walking through the remaining parts of the museum, it is already quite late, so you decide to take a cab to the restaurant Harry had reserved a table at. After ordering a bottle of wine and your food, the two of you enjoy quite a relaxed conversation about his business trip and what you had been up to. The dinner itself was phenomenal, the wine complimenting it, bringing out its flavours and umami. You decided to share dessert before walking back to his place, as it was closer. As you pass through Hyde park, he suddenly halts and points at the stars, which are remarkably visible. Quietly, he describes to you which stars form the different star signs, Orion, Sirius, and more. A couple of minutes pass in silence before you feel him shift next to you. When you turn to face him, he is kneeling. ‘My love,’ he starts, ‘these past three years have been the happiest of my life.’ Pulling out a small box and opening it, he reveals a beautiful ring. ‘Will you do me the honour of spending the rest of your life with me?’ Words escape you. While you had expected him to surprise you in some way, this was outside of the scope you’d expected. Slowly, you nod, some tears escaping your eyes. ‘Yes, Harry. I do.’ ‘My love,’ He stands up, cups your face in both your hands and kisses you passionately, before putting the ring on your finger, ‘please don’t cry.’ As you look in his eyes, he himself seems moved, but something else in his eyes is unreadable to you. The rest of that night was a bit of a blur. Harry told you that he’d gone to your father and asked for your hand in marriage not too long before his latest business trip, who in turn, had agreed. He admitted that he’d been looking at rings for quite a while before that, however, because he is the gentleman he is, he thought it necessary for him to follow tradition. After a couple of weeks, the two of you decide to start living together full-time at Harry’s place, as it’d be easier to see one another on an almost daily basis that way.

Two months after your engagement to Harry, your parents come over for dinner, as it had been a while since you had last seen them. Your mother is over the moon about the engagement and has insisted that you and Harry should marry in Italy, where you had spent most of your summers as a child. If it were up to her, the wedding would already be taking place this very summer, but because of the perfectionist your fiance is, you have decided to plan for spring of the following year. ‘So Harry, how has your work been lately?’ Your father enquires before taking a sip of his red wine. ‘It’s been busy, but I’m happy to have my lovely fiance to support me.’ Harry says as he squeezes your thigh and smiles at you. Your father doesn’t seem too convinced, however, and lets out a snort. ‘I’m sure you have been busy,’ he slowly leans forward and whispers, ‘busy blowing up my men and warehouses, perhaps?’ After sliding a few pictures across the table, he leans back again. It was quite clear that it was Harry, the security cameras your father had installed recently in his warehouses after finding multiple men dead and the building in shambles, had captured a video of him. The second picture was Harry holding a gun and clearly shooting one of your father’s men, Antinio. You had rather liked Antonio growing up and had felt awful after his death. You turn to him after staring at the picture for what felt like an eternity.

‘What’s the meaning of this Harry?’

He swallows. ‘It is none of your concern, love.’ You stand up. ‘Yes it is,’ your voice wavering slightly, ‘Harry Hart, you are going to explain to me what you were doing shooting up my father’s people and business.’ ‘Please sit back down, dear.’ He doesn’t dare look at you. ‘Harry.’ You say sternly and he finally looks at you, the guilt in his eyes quite clear. ‘Please, I can’t, you kno-.’ He almost begs you, but it’s interrupted by the sound of a gun being loaded. You turn and look at your father pointing it at your fiance. ‘I expect you to be honest now Harry, or should I say agent Galahad?’ Harry sits deadly still, all the emotion he had shown you completely wiped off his face. Slowly, he stands up, his hands slightly up and clearly visible for your father to see. ‘You have flown too close to the sun agent; and you’re going to pay for deceiving my child.’ Your father’s voice rising to an almost screaming level. ‘Father please! Don’t hurt him!’ You scream back. ‘Can’t you see that he has used you?! The only reason he ever got together with you is to get to me! Isn’t that right?!’ You turn to Harry. ‘Tell me it isn’t true Harry.’ He doesn’t answer. ‘TELL ME!’ Tears stream down your face as he looks at you without a hit of emotion. ‘We can discuss this later, dear.’ He states before turning back to your father, whose gun was clearly shaking as a result of his anger. ‘No, you’re going to be honest, Hart, if that’s even your name.’ He motions Harry to walk around the table and stand in opposite of him, your mother shifting to stand next to your father. Your fiance didn’t seem to be phased by the situation in the slightest while your father looks like he is about to pull the trigger. Before he can, though, Harry suddenly and swiftly kicks the gun out of his hands, with it flying across the room. Pulling out his own gun, he doesn’t hesitate to shoot your father through the head. ‘DAD! NO!!’ Before you are able to move, he does the same to your mother, who had been relatively quiet throughout the argument. ‘Mo-mo-MOM?!’ You run and fall to the ground, trying to do anything to help them. Blood covers your hands and feet as tears continue to stream down your face. ‘Ha-.’ Swallowing, you try again. ‘Ha-Harry, wh-why…’ Your hands are shaking violently as you search for anything to grab onto. ‘Wa-was it- was it all fake?’ Grabbing your father’s gun you point it at him. He doesn’t look at you. ‘HARRY, LOOK AT ME!’ He turns, taking off his glasses and putting them onto the dinner table, the once white tablecloth now splattered with blood; tainted. Crouching down, he grabs your face and kisses you before pulling you into a hug, the gun you’re holding hitting his chest. ‘You may shoot now, my love.’ Is all he whispers into your ear.

~~~~~~

Part 2

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