Summary - with the wedding rapidly approaching, will Spencer be able to convince you that he’s the man you should be marrying?
A/N - second and final part for @imagining-in-the-margins Wedding Challenge. I have no excuses for why this took so long to post, I’ve had this written since September I just forgot to post it. I’m sorry to those who have been waiting for it.
Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - friends to lovers | angst with happy ending | fluff
Warnings - swearing, pining, mentions of male masturbation, drinking, bachelorette party shenanigans, making out, drunken mistakes, angst, tears.
Word Count - 10.6k
Part Two
92 Days until the Wedding
When Spencer had shown up at your door the following morning with coffee and pastries, you’d almost slammed the door in his face.
But just before you did he’d blurted out the words shopping and on me and your interest had been piqued.
So you let him take you on a shopping trip, deliberately making him spend out on frivolous things you’d never normally buy and you had to admit you were impressed by his commitment to make it up to you.
By the time he almost brought a designer handbag for you, you decided to let him off the hook.
He was about to hand his credit card over, a look of concern for his poor bank account all over his face, when you reached out and gently placed your hand on his arm.
“Don’t.” You shook your head.
He turned to you with a frown, so did the cashier.
“But I-“
“It’s enough. Seriously.” You motioned to all the bags on the floor he’d been lugging around.
The cashier gave you a slightly frustrated look as Spencer tentatively slotted his card away, collected up the bags and let you lead him from the store.
There was a coffee cart outside and you brought the both of you a drink before sitting down on a bench surrounded by your haul.
“You really didn’t need to do any of this.” You spoke, giving him a guilty look.
“I didn’t hear you complaining.” A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.
“Well you were pretty adamant. I would have been happy with a simple apology.”
“I’ll remember that for next time.” He sipped his coffee. “Because I’m sure there will be a next time. I keep fucking up with you recently and I don’t know why.”
You exhaled, glancing up at the sky as you played with your coffee cup in your hands.
“You’re happy for me, aren’t you Spencer?” You asked without looking at him.
“Of course I am.” He lied, chewing on his lip.
“Do you think I’m…” you looked back at him and he could see the uncertainty in your eyes. “Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just kidding myself thinking this is going to work out?”
That was Spencer’s opening. It was the perfect opportunity for him to tell you exactly what he thought about your impending nuptials.
You were asking him what he thought. You wanted his opinion.
Your eyes practically begged him for the truth, while you rolled your bottom lips nervously between your teeth.
Spencer’s mouth was suddenly dry. The words were on the tip of his tongue, caught somewhere in the back of his throat. The words he’d so desperately wanted to say to you since the day at the airport when you’d introduced your husband to be.
You shouldn’t marry him. This is a mistake. Marrying him will be the biggest mistake you ever make.
You think you love him but you don’t. He thinks he loves you but he doesn’t. Or maybe he does, I don’t know. But I do know that he can’t possibly love you as much as I do.
No one in the world could ever love you like I do. And I know what you’re thinking, why am I telling you this now? Why after ten years of friendship did I decide to tell you my feelings after you got engaged?
The truth is, I was stupid and spent all these years burying my head in the sand. I missed what’s been right in front of my face this whole time.
It wasn’t until we spent time apart that I realised what I’ve probably always felt for you. When you were gone it smacked me around the face like a tonne of bricks.
I am in love with you Y/N. Maybe I always have been, I can’t say for sure. But I can say definitively that I am in love with you now and I will be in love with you for the rest of my life.
So no, I don’t think you’re doing the right thing. Yes, I do think you’re kidding yourself. He is not the man you should marry.
I am.
Marry me Y/N. Be my wife and let me show you what love really is. Let’s grow old together, create a life together we can one day tell our kids and grandkids about.
Marry me, not him. Choose me and I swear you’ll never wonder even for a second if you’re doing the right thing or not because you will know you are.
“Spencer?” You spoke again after he was silent in thought for some time.
He shook his head, banishing his thoughts from his brain with a heavy sigh.
“Do you think you’re doing the right thing?” He drummed his fingers against his cup.
“I think so, yeah.” You nodded.
“Then that’s all that matters.” He smiled a little sadly before looking away from you, taking a sip of his drink. “This coffee tastes like garbage.”
You frowned, watching his profile as he stared off into the distance. He had a strange look on his features, one you couldn’t place.
He looked partially contemplative but with a hint of sadness and you didn’t understand why. He’d purposefully changed the subject too.
Something was definitely bugging him. You just couldn’t tell what it was.
Even after all these years Spencer was sometimes so hard to read. He’d been trained by the FBI to never give away what he was thinking or feeling. He used that to his advantage.
“Yeah, it’s not great.” You sighed in agreement, still watching the side of his face intently. “So uh…I need to tell you something.”
That caught his attention and turned back to face you. Your tone already told him it wasn’t something he was going to like.
“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant? Is that why you’re getting married? Did he get you pregnant?” His eyes widened at you.
“What?” You shook your head. “No I am not pregnant! Thanks for that though.” You subconsciously rubbed your stomach.
“I didn’t mean…I’m not saying you look pregnant! I just…” he trailed off shaking his head before he could dig the hole any deeper. “What did you want to say?”
You pouted a little at his insinuation before sighing lightly.
“Well, as you know the wedding is in Rome…” you picked at the sleeve of your coffee cup.
“Yeah…?” Spencer frowned at you, trying to read your expression which wasn’t at all hard for him.
It was written all over your face and his frown faded, being replaced by a sadder expression.
“You’re not coming back, are you?”
“No.” You shook your head. “Antonio’s decided to sell his architecture firm and start over back in Rome. His parents are getting older and I think he’s worried he doesn’t have a lot of time left to spend with them. I think it’s good, I think we’ll be happy there.”
You sounded more as though you were trying to convince yourself than Spencer. Spencer just narrowed his eyes on you, scrutinising you.
“The museum were really happy with my work while I was out there and they’ve procured me a role at the Galleria Borghese. They’re helping out with moving costs and everything.” You smiled but Spencer noticed it didn’t reach your eyes.
“You don’t speak Italian.” He scoffed. “How are you going to work in a country where you don’t speak the language?”
“They were actually in need of some English speaking curators. You’ve heard of tourists, right?” You chuckled but it was an uneasy sound.
Spencer grinded his teeth and turned away from you again. You saw the way his jaw squared and tensed and his nostrils flared with heavy breaths.
“Just say what you’re thinking.” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t bite your tongue around me, Spencer.”
His jaw tightened and he slowly turned back to face you and his eyes were suddenly dark, practically black.
“Trust me when I say,” he pushed himself up from the bench. “If I told you what I was thinking, our friendship would be over.”
You watched him turn on his heels and storm away, tossing his half empty coffee in a trash can on his way.
You chewed on your lip, thinking better of going after him.
Sometimes with Spencer, it was better to just let him work through his emotions on his own. If you went after him, the two of you would fight and you’d done enough of that lately with Spencer.
You finished your coffee on the bench before collecting up your things and grabbing a cab home as your ride had left you stranded.
He’d cool down eventually, he always did. You just had to wait it out.
***
75 Days until the Wedding
If Spencer hadn’t already been sure he was in love with you, he most certainly would have been now.
It was a moment he would never forget for the rest of his life even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory.
The second you stepped out of that dressing room, a slightly bashful look on your face as you chewed on your lip, the rest of the world slipped away.
The sounds of your bridesmaids chattering between glasses of champagne filtered out to silence. They disappeared from his vision, replaced only by you.
You and the wedding dress adorned on your body were the only things in existence that mattered to Spencer.
He was honed in on you like you were the only person in the world. To him, at that moment, you were.
You looked like a princess. Like a fallen angel come to earth to show Spencer his true purpose in life.
You were the sun and all the stars in the sky. You were a goddess.
And Spencer knew without a shadow of uncertainty that you were the love of his life.
The dress was ivory in colour, short sleeved and lacy all across the bodice. It fit you like a glove, as if it had been hand stitched just for you. It hugged your glorious curves and the long, mermaid train draped behind you.
You started heading down through the shop but in his mind you were walking down the aisle to him. The displays of dresses on either side of you became people lining your path towards your soon to be husband.
He stood up from the couch he’d been occupying, imagining himself in his smartest tux, beaming from ear to ear as the most beautiful woman in the world headed his way, to become his wife.
Tears flooded his vision the closer you got. You floated towards him as though you were walking on air, like the ethereal being you were.
His heart constricted in his chest and his stomach swarmed with butterflies as he reached for your hands.
You let him take them and smiled brightly back at him. Your own eyes swam with tears and you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth.
I do, I do. A thousand times I do, he told you subconsciously but said nothing out loud.
He imagined sliding a ring on your finger as you recited your vows to one another. He could hear a voice pronouncing you husband and wife.
I do. I do. I do.
He would draw you into a kiss as you were declared Doctor and Mrs Reid. Faint cheers erupted in his mind and confetti hailed down around you.
You were the one. You were his one, not Antonio’s. This dress deserved to be worn when you married him.
Love didn’t even begin to describe how he felt about you. There were simply no words to accurately depict the way Spencer’s heart ached for you. Love wasn’t enough. This feeling had no definition.
Spencer wanted to relish in it forever. He wanted the two of you to stay like this, trapped in this perfect little bubble and pretend for as long as he could that it was him you were marrying.
But bubbles were so easy to pop.
“This is the one, right?” You sniffed back your tears, giving Spencer’s hands a squeeze.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly aware that Melody, Tahani, Eliza and the shop assistant were all staring at the both of you.
“Uh…it’s…beautiful.” He snatched his hands from yours and stuffed them in his pockets, taking a few steps back.
“It’s perfect, Y/N!” Tahani squealed, quickly spinning you to face her and the other girls so they could get a better look.
Spencer shrunk away and sat back on the couch while the girls cooed over how amazing you looked.
A tear crept from his eye that he was quick to wipe away. But when he glanced up you were looking over your shoulder right at him.
And if he didn’t know any better, he’d think he gave the game away, because the look you were giving him was almost as sad as he felt.
***
57 Days until the Wedding
“Please, tell me again why you’re doing this.” Luke groaned, looking at the display over Spencer’s shoulder.
“Because I love her and I want to marry her.” Spencer replied without turning around. “I’m swaying towards something more vintage. What do you think?”
“I think you’ve lost your mind.” Luke rolled his eyes.
Spencer straightened up from where he’d been leaning over the counter and looked at the aging jeweller.
“Could you give us a moment, please?” Spencer politely smiled at the man who was quick to slot the trays of rings back into the glass cabinet and lock it behind him before taking his leave.
As if Spencer looked like the kind of man to rob a jewellery store.
“Voice your opinions.” Spencer turned to Luke once the man was out of ear shot. “Once and only once. Get it out of your system and then please help me.”
Luke huffed out a breath, stepping a little closer to Spencer.
“You’re buying a ring.”
“I am.” Spencer nodded. “Are we just stating facts now or…?”
“She’s already engaged, man.” Luke rolled his eyes. “You’re buying a ring for a woman who is going to be married in less than two months.”
“You’re the one that told me to convince her not to marry that guy and to marry me instead.” Spencer folded his arms across his chest.
“Yeah, but I think you’re jumping the gun a little here, bud.” Luke sighed. “If you don’t manage to get her to call off this wedding, you’re going to be out of pocket thousands of dollars with a ring you can’t do anything with.”
Spencer let his arms fall back to his sides and let out a heavy breath.
“We had this…moment.” He pulled a face at how pathetic that sounded when he said it out loud.
Luke raised an eyebrow at him.
“A moment?”
“Yes.”
“Define a moment.”
Spencer sighed loudly, almost instantly wishing he hadn’t mentioned it.
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head but he knew Luke wouldn’t drop it.
“It does matter. Tell me.” Luke softened.
Spencer yet again sighed and ran his fingers through his messy locks.
“It was when I went dress shopping with her. She walked out in that dress and I…I fucking forgot how to breathe, Luke. And she walked straight to me and she looked at me like I was the only person in the whole world. I swear she felt for me what I feel for her. I’m sure she was trying to tell me with her eyes that it’s me she wants to marry.” He chewed on his lip, knowing how utterly ridiculous it sounded.
Luke’s facial expression told him just how stupid it did sound.
“Is it possible,” Luke stepped a little closer to him. “That it was all in your head?”
“Of course it’s possible!” Spencer huffed. “I’m losing my mind here, Luke! I have never felt like this before. I’m a fucking mess. But if there is even the tiniest possibility I didn’t make it up and she does feel the same about me, I want to be prepared. So I am buying a ring today and you can either help me or leave.”
Luke subtly rolled his eyes with a small sigh before nodding his head.
“I want to help.” He grumbled slightly. “I just don’t want to see this blow up in your face is all.”
Spencer ignored him, looking over towards the jeweller on the other side of the store and giving him a nod.
When he returned, he gave a Spencer slightly frustrated look that said buy something or stop wasting my time.
Spencer puffed out his chest, looked down at the display case and jabbed his finger at one ring in particular.
It was a white gold Art Deco style ring with a modestly sized diamond set in the middle with a slightly smaller sapphire nestled either side of it. The shoulders were engraved with intricate patterns carved in the metal.
It was simple and elegant. It was beautiful with a slight vintage flare.
It was perfect.
“This one. This is the one.” He spoke with fierce determination and a nod of his head.
“Very good choice, sir.” The man smiled wryly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the case again.
Spencer’s stomach coiled in excitement. He would defy anyone to say no to that ring.
Now he just had to decide how he was going to ask you and when. And he’d hope and he’d pray that he was the man you’d choose. Because he simply couldn’t imagine his life without you in it.
***
14 Days until the Wedding
Spencer had been carrying the ring around in his pocket everywhere he went, afraid to let it out of his sight.
He was also afraid you would find it and he wasn’t prepared to give it to you yet, or to lie about why he had it.
Two weeks before the wedding he found himself on a flight to Rome with you and the other bridesmaids, your parents and Antonio and his groomsmen.
He didn’t want to spend the next two weeks in one of the romantic cities in the world with you and him. But he also needed to spend as much time with you as possible as time was running out.
He found himself sitting with you and Antonio, Antonio by the window and him by the aisle, with you sandwiched in between.
It was late and most everyone on the flight was asleep apart from the two of you. You were reading a book and Spencer was just watching you as you did so.
He was mesmerised by you. The way your brows creased when you were confused by something you’d read, the way your lips twitched at the corner when you found something funny. The way you wet the pad of your thumb on your tongue to turn the page and the way you sometimes flicked back a few pages as if to clarify something.
You absolutely fascinated him. Even your simple micro expressions most other people wouldn’t notice were riveting to him. He could be content watching you all day.
After a little while you closed your book and shuffled in your seat when you turned to face him. He’d been so wrapped up in you he didn’t have a chance to turn away and pretend he hadn’t been staring at you.
“Do I have something on my face?” You spoke in hushed tones so as not to disturb anyone.
“What? No.” He frowned.
“Then why are you staring at me?” Your lip curled into a smirk.
“I…can’t sleep.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t want to read.”
“You didn’t want to read?” Your eyebrows shot up. “It must be a cold day in hell.”
Spencer chuckled, trying to stretch his legs but instead bashed his knees on the seat in front of him and groaned. He was too tall for commercial planes.
“Satan himself is knitting wool sweaters.” He smirked as a long forgotten memory came to his mind.
You narrowed your eyes on him briefly as if you were remembering the same thing but you quickly shook it off.
“Now that I’d like to see.” You laughed, scrutinising Spencer slightly. “You’re not getting laid, are you?”
“Excuse me?” His eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in topic.
“Sorry, I’ve just noticed you’ve been a bit…on edge recently. You’re more fidgety than normal. And usually it’s obvious when you’ve gotten laid because you’re always really smug after. I don’t remember the last time I saw you smug.” You shrugged.
You really could be a profiler, he thought. Or maybe it was only because you’d known him so long that you were able to read him so well.
“It has been…a while.” He agreed, drumming his fingers on his thigh.
“Something wrong? In ten years I’ve never known you go through a drought.” You nudged him playfully in the arm.
“I’m just…I don’t know.” He sighed. “Maybe I’m tired of it, you know? Different women all the time, no strings attached sex. Maybe I only want one woman.” He looked into your eyes, trying to communicate what he was thinking without actually saying it.
And just like in the dress shop, he was sure you knew exactly what he was trying to say. There was a brief moment of understanding that passed between the two of you on that quiet plane as you flew at thirty thousand feet.
For a second he thought you knew what he meant. He saw a look fleetingly wash over you as if registering what he was trying to say.
But as soon as it came, it was gone again. And suddenly you started to laugh.
“Oh wow, you almost got there for a second, Spence.” You chuckled, slapping his shoulder. “Spencer Reid with one woman? Man, that’s funny. Hell really would freeze over.”
Spencer forced himself to laugh along with you although he felt like doing anything but. You were never going to take him seriously. He couldn’t undo ten years of behaviour in a matter of months.
He didn’t know who he was trying to kid.
The ring felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket as he felt his heart breaking in his chest.
“Yeah, I almost had you for a moment.” He looked down into his lap so you wouldn’t see the sadness in his eyes. “I just…I guess I’m bored of DC women.”
“Probably because you’ve slept with them all.” You rolled your eyes. “Rome will be like a whole new pool of beautiful women for you. You’ll be back in the game in no time.”
He almost told you that the only beautiful woman he wanted in Rome was the one sat right next to him. Almost. He might even have said it if it wasn’t for the fact someone else spoke up.
“As long as it isn’t any of my sisters.” Antonio stifled a yawn. “Stay away from them.”
Spencer looked over your head at him wondering how much of that conversation he might have heard.
Judging by the look in his face he’d not only heard enough but he’d seen the look on Spencer’s face that you’d missed.
Your fiancé knew he had feelings for you, he was sure of it. Spencer just hoped Antonio would be gentlemanly enough not to mention it.
***
“You don’t get to do this.”
One minute Spencer had been about to slot his key into the lock of his hotel room and the next, Antonio was grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.
Spencer dropped his duffel bag on the floor and pulled a face.
“Do what?” He played dumb, which was really hard when he was anything but.
“You know exactly what I mean. You had ten years to tell her how you felt! You had all the time in the world and you wasted it. So you do not get to decide you want her when we’re getting married in two weeks.” Antonio squared his shoulders and straightened his back.
He was around Spencer’s height but much broader and muscular than him which made him seem taller somehow.
Spencer mirrored him but didn’t feel at all intimidating.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s my best friend. I don’t have feelings for her.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Uh…is that a trick question?”
“I’m not blind, Spencer. I see the way you look at her and you need to back off. She’s marrying me. She loves me. Get over it.” Antonio spat.
“She doesn’t give you the doggy bowl look.” Spencer muttered under his breath.
“What?”
“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.
You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did.
“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Theory.”
You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature.
“Explain.”
He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline.
“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you.
“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little.
“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.”
“Nothing.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “Are we done here?”
“Stay away from her. You missed your chance.” Antonio spat and with that he turned on his heels and marched down the corridor, leaving Spencer alone again.
His time was rapidly running out. If he was going to get you to call off this wedding and be with him, he had to do it soon.
He slotted his hand in his pocket and ran his fingers over the ring box.
Was it possible Antonio was right? Maybe he had missed his chance. Maybe it was time for Spencer to admit defeat and let you be happy with Antonio.
Or maybe it was just time to up the ante.
***
12 Days until the Wedding
Spencer didn’t see much of you for the first two days in Rome due to you being busy with wedding prep and dealing with both yours and Antonio’s families.
He spent the time exploring a little and you weren’t wrong about Rome being full of deliriously attractive women.
Honestly, it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey. And Spencer was utterly famished.
This had to be the longest he’d gone without sex since his lost his virginity. He was practically climbing the walls, he was so horny and all the gorgeous Italian women were certainly not making that any easier on him.
But Spencer had vowed to himself since he realised his feelings for you that he would not sleep with another woman. You were the person he really wanted. Anyone else would just be a consolation prize.
But right now, a consolation prize had never sounded so good.
He had to remain strong. He couldn’t give into his urges no matter how desperately he wanted to. And so over the course of those two days, Spencer spent an unreasonable amount of time masturbating.
On the first day after his run in with Antonio, he’d gotten thinking about the first night he met you and how he would have given anything to fuck you that night.
So while he was showering the smell of the flight off himself, he masturbated.
He’d gone for a walk and found himself in a coffee shop where an unnecessarily beautiful woman kept making eyes at him across the cafe. So he’d jerked off in the bathroom.
Then he’d gone for a bite to eat after a walk around the Colosseum and his waitress had just been begging to be fucked. Her short skirt and low cut blouse left him reeling so once again he’d locked himself in the bathroom and masturbated.
That night he’d gone for drinks with your bridesmaids and Antonio’s groomsmen and for whatever reason Melody had been flirting with him like nobody’s business. Her previously frosty demeanour towards him had turned sultry with a few drinks.
And instead of taking her back to his room and fucking her, he once again masturbated.
The second day he stayed in his room, thinking without outside stimuli, he couldn’t possibly get so worked up.
He was wrong.
It only left more time for him to think about you.
He played over all the scenarios in his head over the years that could have led to the two of you falling into bed together.
There had been more than a few occasions when things had heated up between the two of you, only for you to push him away at the last minute.
The night of the Halloween party when you’d first met, he could have gotten you into bed if only he’d tried harder.
The following year after a few too many drinks at Garcia’s holiday party, he’d teased you under the mistletoe, and almost had you on his hook.
“Stop it.” You batted his hand away, trying to suppress your giggle.
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged, raising his arm over your head again.
“Stop it!” You smacked his arm and this time the laugh erupted from your lips. “Spencer, I mean it!”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smirked.
You glanced upwards and Spencer’s eyes followed to the piece of mistletoe he was dangling from his fingers over your head.
“Oh wow, how did that get there?” He joked.
“Put it away.” Your eyes danced with amusement.
“Can’t.” He shrugged again. “Holiday rules dictate that if you find yourself standing under mistletoe with someone…”
“I am not going to kiss you.” The playful glint in your eyes grew.
“How about I kiss you?” He stepped a little closer, daring to place his free hand on your hip.
“Spencer…” you trailed off, not sure where you were going with that particular sentiment.
“It’s holiday law, Y/N. I don’t make the rules.”
“How many women have you actually gotten into bed with this play?”
“You’d be surprised.” He chuckled lightly. “It only has a very specific window of time when it works though.”
“December I can only assume?”
His hand was still on your hip and you hated how nice it felt.
“Precisely.” He stepped even closer. “So we’re under the mistletoe and like I say, holiday rules dictate-“
“Oh for the love of god just kiss me already!” You surprised him when you blurted that out.
And Spencer didn’t need to be told twice.
He leaned in close, moving his hand from your hip to your cheek and cupping your face gently.
But before he could so much as brush his lips against yours, Garcia appeared out of nowhere, completely ruining the moment.
“Ohh is that mistletoe?” She drunkenly chirruped before snatching it from his hand. “Thanks boy wonder! Now where is my chocolate thunder?”
The mood had been ruined after that and you’d avoided Spencer for the rest of the evening.
Oftentimes when the two of you were drunk you would become flirty with him and there were more moments than Spencer could count where something had almost happened between the two of you.
Almost.
And he played through every single one of them on a loop while he spent the day in his room. And he masturbated more times than he could count.
He eventually fell asleep after one too many orgasms, feeling nowhere near as satisfied as he would have liked.
***
The following day he couldn’t even think about masturbating. He’d well and truly exhausted himself the last two days but at least he wasn’t horny anymore.
At least he wasn’t, until he saw you.
The hotel you were all staying in was the same place you would be getting married in twelve days time and set just on the outskirts of the city with its own vineyard and winery on site.
Spencer slept most of the morning and eventually surfaced from his room in the middle of the afternoon.
He found you outside at one of the tables on the patio area, alone, with your head in a book.
You wore a lilac coloured, floor length sundress, with little spaghetti straps and low cut bodice.
The second he stepped outside his eyes couldn’t help but land on your immaculate cleavage and within an instant he was turned on again.
How was that even possible?
He took a few deep breaths, adjusting his slacks as he walked over towards you.
Sensing his presence you glanced up from your book and smiled at him.
“Hey stranger,” he smiled back as he reached you.
“Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA. It’s been a crazy few days.” You pushed your chair back and stood up. “We’ve been house hunting.”
Spencer’s heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought of you looking for houses in a city that was almost four and a half thousand miles away from DC. And with another man no less.
“Sounds fun.” He nodded, trying to hide the disappointment from his face. “Are you busy now?”
“Nope, I’ve got some free time.” You smiled. “What did you have in mind?”
You and me in my room with no clothes on.
Or you and me with no clothes on, over this table right here.
Or you and me just about anywhere with no clothes on.
“Wanna take a walk? I haven’t checked out the vineyard yet.” He said instead of any of the things that were floating around his head.
“Sure.” You nodded, tucking your book inside your purse and slinging it over your shoulder.
You fell into step together, heading down the bank at the side of the hotel towards the vineyard beyond.
It was a warm day and Spencer wished he’d had the forethought to pack anything other than pants and shirts, as sweat gathered in his armpits and on his brow.
You were both silent as you strolled, Spencer was preoccupied with his own thoughts. This was probably the only time he was likely to get you alone and most likely the only chance he would have to tell you how he felt before it was too late.
He just had to get his words in order, but they were a jumble in his nervous brain. He slid his hands in his pockets and toyed with the ring box as he tried to formulate a sentence.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching the way his brows scrunched up.
“What are you thinking about?” You startled him a little when you spoke.
“Huh?” He looked over at you in surprise.
“I can practically see the cogs turning in your head. What’s on your mind?”
“I uh…” he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Do you remember the first time we went to Garcia’s holiday party together?”
“Vaguely?” You frowned slightly.
Spencer slowed his pace until he came to a stop and you did the same. You looked at him curiously.
“Mistletoe.” He smiled wryly at you.
“Ah.” You laughed slightly nervously. “How could I forget? You were practically begging me to kiss you.”
“I don’t beg.” He scoffed, fingers still brushing over the ring box.
“Not how I remember it. Oh please Y/N I have mistletoe you have to kiss me it’s a holiday rule.” You impersonated him.
“I sound nothing like that.” He pulled a face.
“You sound exactly like that.” You teased him. “Why are you thinking about a holiday party from nine years ago?”
Because I wanted to kiss you then and I want to kiss you now. Because I’ve been so stupid all these years. Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
“No reason.” He shrugged.
“Liar.”
Spencer exhaled, cupping the box in his hand. It was now or never. Do or die. It was time to come clean about his feelings.
“Fine, you really want to know the truth?” He stepped closer to you and you nodded. “The truth is that I am utterly and completely in l-“
“Y/N there you are!” Eliza interrupted him, suddenly heading your way with Tahani and Melody in tow.
Spencer sighed and rolled his eyes. Their timing couldn’t have been worse. Just as he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell you how he felt.
“What’s going on?” You eyed the girls up.
“We’re going out! It’s your bachelorette party!” Melody squealed, forcing a bright pink sash into your hands.
You laughed as you looked at the gold words of Bride-To-Be emblazoned on the sash.
“Right now?” You slipped it over your head and Spencer took a few steps back, feeling like a spare part.
“Right now!” Tahani grabbed your hand. “Come on both of you, we’ve got a schedule to keep.”
“Can we just have a minute?” You pulled your hand free of Tahani’s. “Spencer and I were just…”
You looked at him and he was sure you knew exactly what he’d been about to say before you were interrupted.
It felt like you were silently begging him to finish his sentence. Did you want to hear him say it? Would you leave Antonio if he did? Did Spencer want to be the kind of man that would try and break up a soon to be married couple?
Antonio had been right, as much as Spencer hated to admit it. He’d had ten years to realise he had feelings for you and he’d missed his chance.
You were happy with Antonio, probably happier than he’d ever seen you. He didn’t want to ruin that. He wanted you to be happy above all else.
All four of you were staring at him, waiting for him to speak. He plastered on a smile, shaking his head a little.
“Let’s go, we’ll talk later. It wasn’t important anyway.” He knew you didn’t believe that, but you nodded all the same.
He had to let you go. He had to let you get married and be happy with Antonio.
Even at the expense of his own happiness.
***
Another quarter landed in the bucket, jingling against the other coins at the bottom. You smiled a little shyly as the stranger planted a kiss on your cheek and your friends cheered.
You’d been against the idea of it to begin with. Selling cheek kisses for quarters seemed a little demeaning but your friends had all insisted it was all part of the bachelorette party fun.
After a few cocktails, you started seeing the funny side and now had a bucket full of quarters and half the men in the bar's lips had brushed against your cheek.
You found Spencer sitting alone, swirling his whiskey around in his glass. You slipped in the booth beside him, placing the bucket on the table and hearing the coins clank again.
“Someone’s popular.” He nodded towards the bucket.
“What can I say? Italian men seem to love me.” You giggled.
“Can’t say I blame them.” He gave you a soft smile but there was a look in his eyes you couldn’t place.
“Well there’s one American man who has not put a quarter in my bucket.” You tried to ignore the look. “Cough it up Doc.”
Spencer chuckled slightly, reaching into his jacket pocket for his wallet and retrieving a quarter. He dropped it in the bucket, but never took his eyes off of you.
“Now what?”
“Now you give me a kiss.” You turned your head slightly to the side and tapped your index finger on your cheek.
Spencer felt his breath catch in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to grab you and turn you back to face him so he could crash his lips against yours.
But if this was the closest he got to that, he’d take it.
He took a few breaths before edging closer, catching the scent of your lavender shampoo and your perfume as he got closer.
He felt heady from your smell as he cautiously pressed his lips against your flesh, closer to the corner of your mouth than your cheek.
Your skin was soft beneath his lips and he swore he felt a spark of electricity pass between you.
Something animalistic took over in Spencer and he was powerless to stop his next move.
He took hold of your jaw, cupping it in his hand and turned you to face him. Your eyes met his and an understanding was shared. You wanted him to kiss you. And he wasn’t going to disappoint.
You both closed your eyes simultaneously and you felt Spencer’s breath fan across your face. Goosebumps flared on your skin at the small gesture and your stomach coiled into knots.
You had never wanted someone to kiss you more in your life. You felt as though you needed Spencer to kiss you, like if he didn’t you might crumble into a million pieces.
His lips brushed cautiously over the corner of your mouth and you couldn’t hold back the small whimper that escaped your mouth at the contact.
You had been in love with this man for longer than you could even fathom. Just because you were marrying Antonio, it had never changed that fact.
You’d spent so many years wondering what it might be like to kiss him and now you were on the precipice of finding out. And you were ready to dive over the edge even if Spencer didn’t intend on catching you.
His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck and then his lips suddenly slammed against yours with bruising force, causing you to gasp.
Spencer tried to slow himself down, take his time, in case this was the only chance he ever got to kiss you. But his hunger for you took over and he just couldn’t help himself.
When you gasped, your lips parted enough for him to plunge his tongue inside of your mouth and deepen the kiss. In response you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body closer to yours.
You tasted like the sugary cocktails you’d been drinking and a slight hint of mint. It was intoxicating, otherworldly. Spencer didn’t have any words to describe it.
Fireworks erupted behind his closed lids and his heart felt as though it was soaring. It wasn’t awkward or messy like first kisses usually were. It was as though the two of you had been doing this your entire lives.
You moved together in perfect rhythm and it was barely any time at all before Spencer felt himself growing hard in his pants.
Little whines and moans were leaving your lips and you held onto him for dear life, afraid you might actually float away.
The kiss was passionate and needy, two people who had fought their attraction to one another for too long and couldn’t resist anymore. It was desperate and hungry and you wanted Spencer to throw you across the table and fuck you right in the middle of the bar.
By the time you both dared to pull back you were panting heavily, lips slightly swollen.
You stared at each other while you fought to catch your breaths, so many unspoken words passing between you.
But before you could get any actual words out, Spencer was suddenly on his feet, pushing past you out of the booth.
“I uh…need a drink.” He croaked before he fled.
You stared in his wake, your brain a haze of lust of confusion.
What the fuck had just happened?
Spencer had kissed you and then bolted before you’d caught your breath. Was this how he was with his lays? Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em before they can even understand what’s happened?
Your lungs were on fire and your lips burnt from his kiss. You run your fingers over them, as if you could still feel him there.
Could you really get married to another man after a kiss like that? There was no way a kiss that magical could be just a kiss. You practically tasted Spencer’s feelings in that kiss. No one was just that good.
There had been so many moments over the past few months where you’d thought Spencer was looking at you differently. There had been moments between you when you were sure he had some kind of feelings for you.
You’d ignored them up until now, but all those moments combined with that kiss had to mean something.
And you needed to know once and for all. You needed to know what Spencer was feeling, what it all meant.
You needed to know if you were marrying the right man. Because right now, you weren’t so sure you were.
***
A few hours later you’d pulled at all your courage as you stood outside Spencer’s room. This conversation was inevitably going to go one of two ways.
Either you’d been imagining everything in your desperation for Spencer to love you. You would confront him and he’d tell you he had no idea what you were talking about and you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again, thus ruining ten years of friendship.
Or he would tell you that you weren’t imagining it, he did have feelings for you and you would be left to decide between Spencer and Antonio.
Either way someone was going to get hurt.
You exhaled heavily, hoping to get rid of all your nerves before you knocked on the door.
“Oh shit.”
You heard Spencer’s voice carry through the door.
“Fuck. Just…one second!”
He sounded out of breath and you frowned to yourself. You heard some scrabbling about from the other side of the door for a few seconds before it suddenly flew open.
Spencer’s hair was all over the place and his face was slightly flushed. He wore nothing but a towel slung low around his waist but you noticed instantly his skin wasn’t wet from a shower.
“Oh…uh…hi Y/N.” He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was uh…just about to shower.”
The bright red, glowing hickey on his neck was the first thing that made your stomach turn. But when you heard the woman’s voice from inside the room, you were about ready to hurl.
“Spence, come back to bed!” The voice called and your blood ran cold.
You’d know that voice anywhere. You’d grown up hearing that voice damn near every day
You saw Spencer’s face fall in an instant and you stumbled backwards a little.
“Y/N…I can explain.” He choked out but you were shaking your head.
“What’s to explain?” Your voice cracked as you spoke. “Have fun with Melody.”
“Y/N, it’s not…I mean it is what it looks like but I-I…please let me explain!” He begged but you kept backing away from him.
“I’ve gotta go.” You spun away from him and you ran in the opposite direction.
Your legs were shaking so violently you didn’t know how you didn’t collapse. Spencer continued calling after you and you heard him padding down the hall behind you.
You reached your room and managed to get inside and slam the door before he reached you. The second you were inside your legs gave way and you fell to the floor in front of the door and the floodgates holding back your tears broke.
How could you have thought for even a second that Spencer had feelings for you? Were you really so naive to think a playboy like Spencer could ever have feelings for anyone?
You allowed yourself to get sucked into a fantasy. For years all you’d wanted was for Spencer to love you and after one stupid kiss you’d let yourself get your hopes up.
Spencer didn’t love you. Spencer wasn’t capable of love. A leopard can’t change its spots anymore than a lothario like Spencer can.
You pulled your legs close to your body, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees while you sobbed.
It was only a matter of seconds before there was a frantic knocking on the door behind you.
“Y/N, please talk to me.” Spencer spoke through the wood.
You quieted your sobs but Spencer could hear your breathing.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m a complete fucking idiot. She threw herself at me and I’m…I’m weak ok? I’m pathetic and I’m weak. I didn’t sleep with her though. We…we made out. She took my clothes off. I was…I was about to kick her out I swear. I promise you, I was not going to sleep with her.” He felt foolish talking through the door whilst standing in the corridor of a nice hotel in only a towel.
But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going anywhere until you talked to him.
“Why did you even come to my room? Please, just answer me that.” He begged, not expecting an answer.
There was a long stretch of silence and Spencer didn’t think you were going to speak.
He heard you exhale loudly and then you finally spoke, so quietly he barely heard you.
“I wanted to talk.” You sniffed. “About…about that kiss.”
Spencer closed his eyes as he felt his tears gathering, pressing his palms against the door.
He couldn’t hold back any longer. The words came spilling out his mouth before he had a chance to stop them.
“Please.” He croaked. “Please don’t marry him.”
“S-Spencer.” You choked on another sob. “It’s been ten years…”
“Don’t marry him.” He repeated, pressing his palms harder against the door as though he might be able to push his way through.
“All these years, Spencer. And you’re doing this now?” Your voice was haggard, punctuated with sobs.
“I know. I know.” Tears escaped his eyes as he opened them again, silently rolling down his cheeks. “Let me in. Please let me in.”
“No.” You hugged your legs closer to your chest. “You’re only doing this because you’re afraid of losing me. You don’t have feelings for me Spencer. You’re just scared.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is Spencer.” You chewed on your lip. “I need someone who’s going to be there for me, no matter what. Someone who actually loves me. Someone I can trust. I’m marrying Antonio, Spencer.”
Spencer choked on a loud sob of his own, resting his forehead against the cool wood door.
“I understand.” He croaked. “I hope you’re happy together, I really do. But I can’t watch you marry him. I can’t stand there and pretend that I don’t think you’re doing the wrong thing. I can’t be a part of this.”
He took a step back from the door, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.
“Goodbye Y/N.” He whispered.
You felt your heart shattering into pieces at the thought of Spencer walking away. Suddenly, without meaning to, you were up on your feet.
But when you threw the door open, he was already gone and the hallway was empty.
Your bottom lip quivered and you closed your eyes as you stepped backwards in the room.
“Goodbye Spencer.” You muttered, before you closed the door again both physically and metaphorically.
***
The Wedding Day
When he’d landed back in the states Spencer went straight from the airport to Luke’s apartment. The older man had allowed him to cry on his shoulder between glasses of whiskey while Spencer explained the whole sorry thing.
And bless him for not once mentioning the ring he’d brought or saying I told you so.
He stayed with Luke for two days before going back to his own apartment. His bags remained unpacked by the front door for the next few weeks.
The only thing Spencer had the energy for was to drag himself from the bed to the toilet and back again. The rest of the time he stayed curled up under the sheets, the engagement ring he’d brought taunting him on the pillow.
He considered going back to work early just for something to occupy his mind but he didn’t have the willpower to leave the apartment.
His heart was in pieces. He swore he could feel it physically shattering in his chest although logically he knew that wasn’t possible. But this was all such a new and alien feeling to Spencer.
He’d never been in love before, never had his heart broken. He slept around, kept women at arms length so as to avoid this exact emotion.
Over the years he’d let his guards slip, he’d let you get close and never realised the ramifications that would have.
But now he was feeling the full force of it. He couldn’t ignore it, or push past it like he did every other trauma he’d suffered in his life. This was begging to be felt, demanding to be noticed.
He’d lost the love of his life and his best friend in one fell swoop. You were marrying Antonio and staying in Rome. And Spencer had to try and reconcile the fact he would surely never see you again.
Over the course of almost two weeks there were a lot of knocks on his front door.
It started with Luke checking in on him daily. And then Garcia bringing over baked goods which were now going stale in the kitchen.
JJ and Emily came by as did Tara and Matt and Rossi at various points.
The knocking on the door got irritating and eventually he’d just left the thing unlocked to save getting up.
So when after nearly two weeks of this, there was another knock on the door, he groaned with a roll of his eyes.
“It’s open!” He grumbled from his position on the couch.
His bedsheets had started to smell so he’d spent the last few days curled up on the couch instead. The smell however had followed him, and it took him longer than it should have to realise it was coming from him.
He was grumpier than ever today, on the day that you were getting married. He couldn’t stop picturing you walking down the aisle in that dress and exchanging vows with Antonio, becoming his wife.
He really didn’t have the patience for whoever was at his door right now.
The knock came again as he tightened his old robe around his body.
“It’s open! Jeez.” He called louder this time.
But once again there was another knock.
He huffed out a breath and angrily pushed himself up off the couch before storming towards the door.
“For fuck sake, I said it’s o-“ he threw the door open and his words died in his throat when he saw who was standing there on his doorstep.
He stared blankly at you, as though he had no idea who you were. His expression was completely unreadable.
You scuffed the toe of your shoe on the wooden floor, chewing on your lip.
“Uh…hey?” You offered him a small shrug.
He continued to stare at you, blinking a few times to try and clear the fog surrounding his brain.
“W-why…what are y-you…why?” His voice was hoarse and croaky where he hadn’t spoken in what felt like days.
“You left.” You chewed harder on your lip to stem the tears gathering in your eyes. “You just left.”
“I told you, I couldn’t watch you marry him. Why are you here? Why are you standing in my doorway on your wedding day?” His heart ached for you. You were so close he could reach out and touch you.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
You sighed and shrugged again.
“Because I love you.” You replied like it was the simplest answer in the world. “So here I am standing in your doorway. I’ve always been standing in your doorway.”
Spencer felt his own tears flood his vision. He was desperate to touch you, to hold you. But he refrained.
“Why isn’t your husband with you?” He choked out, bitterness dripping from tongue.
You sniffed back your tears and gave him a shaky smile.
“I uh…I was kinda hoping he was.” You fished in your back pocket and before Spencer knew what was happening, you were dropping to one knee in front of him.
You pulled out a giant red ring pop, the kind Spencer hadn’t seen since he was a child and held it towards him.
“It was the best I could do on short notice. It’s the only kind of ring you’re going to find at an airport.” You chuckled lightly, a little nervously. “Spencer, I have loved you for ten long years. You are the only man for me. And if you meant what you said in Rome, if you really meant it-“
“Of course I meant it.” He cut you off, gripping you by your wrists and pulling you back to your feet. “But this isn’t right. Just…just…one second.”
You frowned as he turned away from you and ran back inside his apartment. You stood there in confusion, still holding the ring pop.
You took a few tentative steps inside the apartment as he disappeared inside his bedroom.
You watched with a frown as he fumbled picking something up off his bed and soon he was barrelling back towards you, faster than you’d ever seen him move.
Your eyes landed on the black velvet ring box in his open palm and you gasped, heart skipping a beat.
A large smile was plastered on Spencer’s face as he lowered himself to one knee in front of you.
“I meant it, Y/N. I meant all of it. I’ve been carrying this ring around for months hoping to find the words to tell you that I am utterly and inconceivably in love with you and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He opened the box and plucked the ring from its little cushion nested inside and took hold of your hand.
At some point your tears had sprung free and were rolling down your cheeks.
“Y/N, will you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Spence!” You nodded frantically as he slipped the ring on your finger.
You helped him to his feet and he was quick to pull you into his arms and crash your lips together. Ten years worth of feelings came pouring out in a single kiss.
Spencer wished he’d realised his feelings for you sooner and hadn’t wasted so much time not being with you, but he knew he’d never waste another second.
He cupped your face and deepened the kiss, finally feeling like he’d found his rightful place in this world.
Tomorrow he was taking you to Vegas or Atlantic City or wherever you wanted to go and the two of you would tie the knot. He wasn’t waiting another day to be your husband.
But tonight as he started leading you through to the bedroom, the only thing on his mind was getting you undressed and finally getting to be with you the way he’d been desperate for since the first time you met.
He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, smiling at the perfect woman he was soon to make his wife.
“There it is.” You smirked up at him, a playful glint in your eyes.
“What?” He frowned a little.
You reached up and cupped his jaw, feeling his spiky stubble beneath your fingertips.
“The doggy bowl look. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”
“I do not have the doggy bowl look.” He scoffed.
“Oh you totally do.” You laughed. “You’re completely starved, Doctor.”
He laughed too as he stroked your hair back off your face before bowing his head to kiss you again.
To think if it hadn't been for one Halloween night and him slipping into bed with the wrong woman, he might never have met you.
Maybe he’d unknowingly left a piece of his heart in your bed that night and you’d kept it all these years. And because of that you knew his heart inside and out, in ways he wasn’t even sure he did.
But the one thing he did know, was that his heart beat only for you. It always would. And it probably always had.
***
Ten Years Ago
You typed your number into the device before handing it back to Spencer. He smiled brightly at you, a smile that caused your stomach to tighten.
“Thanks.” He pocketed the phone, hovering by the door. “So uh…now what?”
“Now you leave.” You chuckled lightly.
“Are you sure you want me to leave? Because I don’t think you do.” His eyes were heavy and filled with lust and you couldn’t deny it made you hot under the collar.
But you were not caving. No matter how stupidly attractive he was, you were not falling into bed with him.
“I’m very sure.” You stood your ground.
“See I don’t buy it.” He shook his head.
“You don’t buy that not every woman wants to sleep with you? Trust me you are not that attractive.” You lied, hoping your expression didn’t give away how gorgeous you really thought him.
“I have a theory.” Spencer smirked at you as he went to reach for the door handle.
You pulled a face, trying to decide if you were going to take the bait. You did.
“Oh, Casanova has a theory?” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes.” His smirk grew. “It’s called the Doggy Bowl Look.”
You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest at his vague nature.
“Explain.”
He was suddenly crossing the room back towards you, his smirk so high it hit his hairline.
“It’s the look a dog gets right before you put down their bowl. When a woman has that look, it means they're attracted to you.” He looked smugly at you.
“And you’re telling me this, because?” You huffed a little.
“Because it’s the look you’ve been giving me since I got into your bed.” His smugness grew and you wanted to slap the look right off of his beautiful face.
“You really do think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” You folded your arms.
“No but you certainly do. I’ll leave now but I am going to call you. And trust me when I say, when you see me in my best suit, not covered in fake blood, and I lay on my charm…” he stepped even closer, hooking his finger under your chin and looking you right in the eyes. “You’ll be begging for me.”
You swallowed a lump in your throat, almost resorting to begging him now. Your knees were weak and it was a miracle you didn’t fall down.
But you would not let him have the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on you.
“It will be a cold day in hell if you ever get me into bed, you cocky son of bitch.” You stepped out of his touch and his hand fell to his side.
“I’ll tell Satan to get knitting those wool sweaters.” He shot you one last look before turning back towards the door and sauntering to it. “It was an absolute pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”
“I wish I could say the same.” You scoffed as he opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
He gave you one last smile, one that felt like it knocked all the air from your lungs, before he was suddenly gone.
As you fell back to your bed and closed your eyes, you saw Spencer Reid behind your closed lids.
And for whatever reason, you knew your story was far from over.
Summary: Spencer translates a movie for you. Things get a little tense.
Request: reader getting hot and bothered when her and spencer are watching a movie with him translating whispering in her ear?
A/N: Filth. Pure filth. Thank you to @foxy-eva for translating for me (and always encouraging me to write).
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Handjob, teasing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-rough sex
Word Count: 1k
MASTERLIST
When Spencer asked you to join him for casual German cinema, you had expected something innocent. Even after he’d explained that it was an attempt to become more “conversational” in German, you’d never considered how intimate it would become.
When the movie first begins, Spencer keeps a respectful distance. His couch has enough room for you two to sit without touching, but you make sure that you do; just an innocent brushing of thighs. He seems to savor the warmth, though, because Spencer is quick to inch closer.
At first, you are happy. You also lean into him, linking arms with him and holding onto his hand trapped in the middle.
You think you’ve made a smart decision.
Then the dialogue starts.
Spencer’s breath is hot against your ear. He speaks so quietly that you can barely hear him. Although, you wouldn’t have been able to focus even if he’d spoken at a regular volume. Your heart is beating too loudly to hear.
He’s still speaking English, right?
There is a lull between the characters. You try to steady your breathing.
Spencer remains focused on the screen.
The next time he speaks, you squeeze his hand tightly. He jumps but continues to whisper what might as well be sweet nothings into your ears.
The German subtitles blur on the screen. You let go of his hand and turn your palm to his thigh, instead. He jumps but continues to speak, albeit with a rougher, shakier whisper.
You begin to wonder where his limits lie.
The next time that a character speaks, you slide your hand several inches up his thigh. Spencer’s voice catches in his throat. He pants into your ear, yet still tries to translate.
It takes him longer, but he manages.
So, you continue. Between the lines, you inch your way closer to the steadily growing bulge straining against his pants.
Spencer whimpers when you creep your fingers around his length.
He misses a line.
“Keep going,” you whisper as you turn to him.
His pupils are blown and his face has turned the prettiest shade of peach.
“You first,” he challenges.
The still-existent wit earns him your obedience. You can see the simultaneous regret and relief as he realizes that things will only get… harder, as you continue.
Despite the difficulty, he continues to dutifully translate for you. Of course, he could be speaking gibberish and you would allow it. You would allow just about anything to continue your exploration.
Spencer’s voice cracks when you tug at the waistband of his sweats. He outright whines when you pull his aching erection free from their confines.
Then, he continues to translate. For approximately five seconds.
“Fuck,” he groans when your hand wraps around his dick.
You’re pretty sure that isn’t in the movie.
“Focus,” you whisper into his ear.
Then, to be cruel, you nip at his earlobe. You revel in the way it makes him shiver.
“I can’t,” he confesses.
“Try,” you coo, “do it for me.”
He tries. Even when your fingers start to move, he stutters out rough, broken English. You want to pay attention to the movie to better support his desire to learn, but the sweetness of his skin is more alluring than the screen.
You litter him with sloppy kisses while your fingers apply waves of pressure around his dick. By the time you begin lazy strokes, Spencer is already about to sob from the repressed passion.
He hasn’t even touched you, but he feels himself teetering on the edge of oblivion.
"Ich will dich ficken,” he absentmindedly grumbles.
“In English, Spencer,” you tease, failing to realize that he was long past with the teasing.
“I said I want to fuck you.”
Before you can even process what he’s said, he pulls you forward onto his lap. You scramble to compose yourself, but Spencer continues regardless.
His hands are ruthless in their pursuit, pushing under your skirt and forcing your underwear to the side without hesitation. His fingers are just as quick to slip inside you. They also find no hesitation. He groans with relief to find you already dripping with anticipation.
He’s waited long enough. His hand drops to his dick while the other helps position your hips. With one smooth movement, you drop onto his lap as your body accepts all of him.
Spencer wants to take his time, but he knows he won’t be able to last. His thrusts are staggered and rough. You grab hold of his shoulders to try to keep steady, but you find yourself slipping when he starts to move.
You grab his hair, instead. The force with which you do so is matched by the intensity of his hands digging into your hips. He holds you down, pushing himself even deeper into you until there is nowhere left to go.
He still wants more. He cranes his neck forward despite your death grip on his hair. He returns your torture with bruising kisses on your neck.
You cry out. You cling to him, holding his face against your chest and depriving him of everything but you.
He doesn’t protest. He kisses you more. He fucks you as hard as he can until he is gasping for air against your breast.
Then, the world goes quiet as everything left of his resolve shatters. Spencer buries his teeth in the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. His hands keep holding you down, even when your body starts to squirm. He forces himself all the way to the hilt as he comes.
The feeling of his release is like a balm for the pain. It is so warm, and he is so vulnerable, that you are almost happy that his hold is so brutal.
But when he lets go, panting and whimpering like he had been before, you realize that he is beautiful in every iteration.
Spencer is only gentle then. He holds you like something fragile, and you treat him just the same. You focus on the feeling of his hot, steady breath against damp and bruised skin.
“What wonderful sorrow it is to love,” Spencer whispers through the exhaustion.
Your face crinkles with confusion.
“What?” you ask.
“The movie,” he mumbles, "That's the line."
Once you realize, you laugh. He joins you. You both laugh at just how far from the plan you’d strayed.
In the background, the movie entertains itself.
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
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Tell me if I should write this Spencer x reader story or not but I love the idea them being in a established relationship and during a spicey questions game during girls night they are very surprised at readers answers and when they ask she (or they) says "He's a scientist so he loves to experiment 😉"
I'm trying to find a spencer reid x reader fic where they were at Spencer's apartment and they fell asleep and when the team tried getting ahold of them for brunch and they went to Spencer's apartment and found them sleeping in his bed n@ked and reader gets freaked out and reid gets annoyed
Summary: Spencer and his wife get a very special gift from Santa
Request by @feltonswifesworld87: Would u do a blurb with Spencer and f!reader? Reader is 9 months pregnant and goes into labor on Christmas Eve and Spencer freaks out a bit and calls the gang
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff, Comfort
Content Warnings: pregnancy, labor and childbirth, hospitals, mentions of being in pain
Word count: 1.5k
Masterlist
There weren't a lot of things that I would miss about being pregnant, but waking up to my husband gently brushing over my bump would definitely be one of them.
It had become part of his morning routine to press his chest into my back to reach around my body and get in contact with our baby. The way he let his fingertips curiously dance over my belly always made my heart jump.
"Good morning, my love," he whispered into my hair. "How did you sleep?"
"I slept alright. It's hard to get comfortable when you're having a human growing inside of you."
"I can imagine," he breathed before kissing my cheek. "Just two more weeks."
"I can't wait."
From my place on the mattress I was able to look out of the window, watching as snowflakes slowly fell from the sky onto the already thick white layer covering our backyard. It almost seemed unreal to experience a white Christmas since there hadn't been much snow the last few years.
With our family growing I have been in a particularly festive mood this year. It was the greatest gift of all to expect a child from the love of my life. I let my eyes wander over the Christmas decorations I had carefully placed in our bedroom and felt a warmth spread through my chest.
"Are you still feeling up to go to Rossi's Christmas party later?" Spencer wanted to make sure.
It was a Christmas Eve tradition to attend Rossi’s party, the whole BAU family and their loved ones coming together to celebrate the holidays.
"Yes, of course! I have been looking forward to it for weeks."
Spencer kept kissing and cuddling me a few more moments before he got out of bed to take a shower. I kept lingering in bed for a little while before I got up as well. As I started to get dressed, I noticed an odd liquid running down my legs.
It didn't take long for me to realize what it was and felt my heart rate accelerating. I opened the bathroom door and found my husband standing in the shower with shampoo in his hair.
"You wanna join me?" He chuckled when he noticed me standing in the room.
"Spencer, my water just broke."
He turned off the shower and opened the glass door to look at me. With a shocked expression he almost yelled, "Oh my god! Are you okay? You need to sit down right now!"
He wanted to get out of the shower to approach me when I pointed at the shampoo running down his face, "There's still time for you to finish your shower. The baby won't be here within the next five minutes."
"Right. Okay. But please sit down, alright? And stay calm, we need to stay calm!"
"I am calm," I laughed as I left the bathroom to sit on the couch.
Right when I wanted to sit down that changed as I felt the first contraction approaching. I tried to breathe through it just the way I learned in a prenatal class and was relieved when it had passed. Still, it was a lot worse than I could have imagined.
Spencer finished his shower in record time and I noticed him talking on the phone as soon as he had left the bathroom.
"How are you feeling?" He wanted to know when he came into the living room.
"I'm okay. I just had a contraction a few minutes ago. Did they say how long it would take for the ambulance to be here?"
"The ambulance? Oh my god, of course! I need to call them!"
I was a little surprised by his reaction since I knew he had just been on the phone. "Didn't you just call them?"
He shook his head, "No, I called Morgan. And then I texted everyone on the team to let them know we were on our way to the hospital."
"Only we are in fact not on our way to the hospital," I reminded him.
"Right! I'm gonna call an ambulance right now!" He exclaimed as he grabbed his phone.
I grinned as I looked at him, still wet from his shower and wrapped in a small towel.
"And Spencer?" I snickered. "Put on some clothes."
"Clothes. Of course," he mumbled as he disappeared in the bedroom.
He came back a few moments later and joined me on the couch.
"The ambulance is on the way, they should be here any minute," he let me know.
Instead of responding, I scrunched up my face as another contraction washed over me. Spencer rubbed his palm over my back and whispered, "You're doing so good."
When I got through the pain I checked my watch and told him, "I think they were about 10 minutes apart."
He nodded and confessed, "I can't believe this is happening." He paused for a moment and added, "Sorry that I freaked out."
"It's okay, Spencer. We can do this. Maybe we'll even make it to Rossi's party in time."
He raised his eyebrows, exclaiming, "What? You can't be serious."
I was trying to lighten the mood but Spencer didn't seem to catch onto that. "It was supposed to be a joke. I'm having a baby right now. I won't go to a party anytime soon."
"Still making jokes, huh? I'm glad you're not freaking out yet," he muttered.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and told him, "One of us has to stay calm, right?"
Soon after that the paramedics arrived and got me into the ambulance after checking my blood pressure. On the way to the hospital my contractions got a lot worse and I sensed that it wouldn't take long for our baby to be born.
Once we arrived at the hospital it seemed like our roles from before reversed, with me being the one who freaked out while Spencer stayed calm. After getting through a particularly bad contraction, I could feel how my body started shaking from exhaustion.
Spencer kept encouraging me. "You're doing so good. I am so proud of you. You can do this."
"It's not like I have a choice now, do I?" I snapped at him before yelling, "Fuck!" as another contraction approached.
I found Spencer's eyes to let him know, "I hate this! I am never doing this again, do you hear me?"
I wasn't thinking clearly then and already knew that I'd probably change my mind in a few years.
"Okay. You don't have to," he cooed as he brushed a strand of hair out of my face.
The midwife came back into the room to check on me, telling us that it was time for me to start pushing soon. She stayed by my side to watch the next contraction, nodding contently as it seemed to confirm what she had just told me.
"I can't do this," I sobbed once I got a small break from the pain.
"Yes, you can."
"It's time," the midwife let us know. "You're almost done."
"No, I'm serious. I can't do this!" I attempted to get up from the bed as I said, "I'm done. I want to go home now."
Spencer gently grabbed my arm to hinder me from getting up.
"We cannot go home, love. You're about to have our baby. I know that this is hard and I can't imagine how painful this must be. But you're strong and amazing and I know that you can do this. It will be worth it once you get to hold our baby in your arms."
He let his hand wander down my arm until he found my hand. I nodded at him and lay back down. He kept holding my hand, no matter how hard I squeezed it. It took longer than I had expected and he had to encourage me to keep going the whole time.
And in the end it turned out that Spencer had been right. Once the midwife laid our little girl on my chest, it was all worth it. Spencer kissed my forehead and I noticed tears streaming down his face.
"You did amazing, love," he mumbled against my skin.
I looked at our baby and carefully let my fingertips run over her body.
"She's so tiny and wrinkly," I whispered.
"And so, so perfect," he added.
"Our little Christmas miracle."
After finishing everything up and letting me rest for a little while, I was moved from the delivery room to a regular one that was already filled with balloons and flowers. Once I got settled, Spencer told his other family to come in.
Derek and Penelope were the first to enter the room, hugging my husband and congratulating us.
Derek looked at the both of us and chuckled, "If I didn't know any better, I wouldn't be sure who of the two of you just went through hours of labor."
"She did an amazing job," Spencer cooed.
"And I only yelled at him a little," I snickered.
Derek laughed out loud, "I bet he deserved it."
Penelope approached my bedside and leaned down to look at our daughter while whispering, "It seems like Santa came early this year."
Spencer and I locked eyes before I whispered, "And he brought the greatest gift of all.”
Feedback helps me stay motivated to write more fics and your comments mean the world to me! Let me know what you think here!
Summary: Spencer and JJ have a talk, the witness' father comes by the BAU. Later, you and Spencer talk before you both head to work for the evening...
Spencer strolled into the BAU the next day grinning like a fool.
He was going to meet your husband, to finally start the process of being fully in your life. He was going to meet your kids, all of them and on purpose this time, and words could never explain how excited he was.
You were everything to him. Your family would be too, all of them. Even Chuck, and he was determined to get him to like Spencer… especially if he was going to marry you someday.
He spent most of the day going over case files with renewed vigor, combing through data on their newly discovered female unsub and trying to make heads or tails from the profile. Alone in the conference room while the rest of the team went over information on other cases, he poured through files slowly and methodically.
After a bit, his mind fog of crime scene photos and geographical data was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. He looked up to spot JJ lingering in the doorway with that embarrassed-but-sorry look on her face that she usually got after they fought.
“Hey,” she said awkwardly, waving a hand at the piles of paper. “Mind if I join you?”
“I’m not mad at you, JJ,” Spencer said pointedly, but he smiled softly at her.
“Yeah, I’m mostly mad at myself,” she muttered, looking down at her shuffling feet. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
“I would have,” he replied, and she looked up at him and made her way over.
Sitting on the edge of the table, JJ gazed out the half-shuttered windows and swung her legs. Spencer leaned back in his chair and watched her amusedly, an expectant smile on his face. They did this a lot after an argument, and by now it all seemed a bit ridiculous.
She chanced a glance his way, and they both broke out in stupid grins, laughing lightly. JJ scoffed and scrunched up her nose, “I just want the best for you.”
“She is,” he said simply, and JJ nodded.
“Good,” she murmured, “you deserve it, Spence.”
Spencer licked his bottom lip and twirled his pen in his hand, watching her with amusement, “That’s it? No scolding or yelling? You think I deserve a married woman with kids?”
JJ chuckled in slight annoyance and shot him a look, “I think you’ll get exactly what you deserve in the end, you dick.”
Spencer laughed lightly to himself and stood, the chair rolling out behind him. He sat on the edge of the table and wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders, and she wrapped one around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder.
“She’s really pretty,” JJ said, and Spencer burst into laughter. “And those shoes, oh my god… Do you think she has a good connect for them?”
“I can ask,” Spencer chortled, shaking his head. The things the women in his life decided to hyperfixate on.
“Are you happy?” JJ asked quietly, giving his waist a small squeeze.
Spencer nodded and kissed the side of his best friend’s head, his heart swelling painfully as he answered, “I’m happy. Very happily in love. I’ll explain it all sometime soon, but she’s got a… unique situation we’re working around.”
“Unhappy marriage?”
“Mm-hmm,” Spencer grunted, frowning. “Happy marriage, they’re just not actually together anymore. Haven’t been for years, but they stayed married for the kids. Title only.”
JJ hummed and nodded against him, “That’s some dedication. Are you sure you’re ready for all that?”
Spencer pulled away expecting judgment, but of course JJ’s eyes held only concern for him. Her eyes welled nervously as she expected anger from him as their arguments tended to go, but Spencer sighed and nodded, “I’m ready for all of it, JJ. I’m gonna meet her husband this week for dinner, and if he’s ready I can meet the kids sometime. I want a life with this woman and her family, even her ex. She loves him, and I wouldn’t ever take that away from her.”
“Stepdad Spencer Reid…” JJ smirked, but then her smile faded. “Does she want more kids? You always wanted kids of your own.”
Spencer shrugged, “She says she’s willing to have more but… I don’t need kids that look like me to be a good dad, y’know?”
“Yeah, of course I know,” she scolded him like he was an idiot, slapping at his chest. “I’ve been waiting to be an aunt for twenty years. It’s about time you gave me some kids to spoil.”
Her face lit up and she grinned wide at him, “Garcia’s going to lose her fucking mind! All those kids will be so spoiled by us.”
Spencer laughed as he looked down on the excitement on her face, but a noise coming from the bullpen made both of them turn. Yelling sounded through the hall, and Spencer and JJ flashed one another a look before running down the ramp to see a tall blond man slamming his hands down on a desk as he yelled at Hotch.
“... just a kid, and she’s not sleeping,” the man pleaded, hands shaking as he looked at a pained faced Hotch.
“Mr. Arends-,” he began but the man cut him off.
“My wife is losing her mind, Agent Hotchner. You need to find this woman and put her away,” he begged, and tears visibly rolled down his cheeks. “I can’t… I can’t help her like this. She’s too scared.”
“Hotch?” JJ asked, and both men turned to face them. The blond man was taller than Aaron, bulky beyond belief with muscles that coiled dangerously under his shirt. But his desperate gaze betrayed any signs of rage, instead it was full of grief.
Hotch sighed and waved a hand between them, “Charles Arends, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and SSA Jennifer Jareau. They’re two of my team, two of the best and we are all doing everything we can to find the woman your daughter saw.”
Charles nodded, tugging on his fingers anxiously, “Charlie. Look, agents, my daughter is traumatized. I know you want to talk to her again, but… I don’t think she can take it.”
“She seemed more than willing to talk to us the other day,” Hotch started, but Charlie shook his head.
“After the screaming fit she had this morning, my wife will gut you all before she lets you near her again.”
“Yes, I got her voicemail…” Hotch grumbled, but then his dark eyes lit up with an idea. He waved a hand at Spencer, “Dr. Reid is one of our best when it comes to talking with children. I’m sure if your wife met him she’d open up to the idea of us interviewing her again.”
Charlie eyed Spencer and his awkward wave critically, “I think she’d snap that guy in half.”
“How about this?” Hotch offered, “We’ll come by the Nocturne tonight and introduce them. If she gets… upset, we’ll reevaluate. I think your daughter is our best bet at finding this woman and knows more than she thinks. A cognitive interview with Dr. Reid might even help her begin to heal once she’s finally able to talk about it.”
“I’ve had a lot of success with them,” Spencer said when Charlie made a face. “Basically, we go through the event together, but she can stop it at any time. She can hold my hand, your hand, her mother’s… it’ll help her feel like she wasn’t alone during it.”
Spencer sighed, remembering a few of his own after his traumas, “It’s the first real step to moving on. She has to get through it first.”
“My wife goes on stage at nine,” Charlie decided, eyeing Spencer with hope and distrust at the same time. “The kids are with a babysitter on nights when we both work. I’ll be on stage with her but we have a break at ten.”
“We’ll be there,” Hotch told him, and Charlie nodded.
He turned to walk away, but something in Spencer screamed at him to reach out, so he hustled over and opened the doors for him, “I’ll take you downstairs.”
Neither man said much even as they got to the elevator. Charlie leaned against the back wall and sighed heavily. The big man seemed so small even though he was nearly a head taller than Spencer, and he couldn’t help himself as he said quietly, “It doesn’t seem like it now, but it will get better. It takes a lot of work.”
Charlie rolled his head toward Spencer and nodded, “My wife is very protective. She had our oldest when she was pretty young and she raised her by herself before we met.”
A prideful respect ripped through him. It sounded like you and your own dedication to your children, so fierce and mother bear-like, Spencer couldn’t help but smile.
“My girlfriend is the same way.”
“She also crazy?” Charlie chuckled, but it was full of exhaustion. Spencer could tell the man hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time, and it was weighing heavily on him that he couldn’t help his own daughter.
“Yeah, she’s nuts, but I’m in love with her,” he huffed, and Charlie chuckled and nodded to himself.
As the elevator opened, Charlie set a heavy hand on Spencer’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze, “Thanks, doc. I’ll see what I can do, but… my wife is feral when it comes to keeping those kids safe.”
He took a step out, his hand sliding from Spencer to his side. Spencer held the door and called out, “I’ll keep her safe, Charlie. You guys just need to let me.”
Charlie nodded, giving Spencer a feeble smile in return, “My wife would like you. She’d say you have puppy eyes and make fun of you, but I think she’d like you.”
Spencer smiled, “Then I’ll put on my best face tonight when I meet her. We’ll get through this together, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks, doc,” he muttered, giving him a wave, and then he headed out the door.
-------------------------
You sighed as you laid in bed with Tulip, spooning her as she slept fitfully. You’d come home to Charlie trying and failing to calm her down after a nightmare, then spent the whole day coddling her while Corrinne took the rest of the kids to Charlie’s house.
She’d called and said Charlie went to talk to Agent Hotchner, but you didn’t really care as you’d left a scathing curse-filled voicemail for him anyway.
You couldn’t seem to get comfortable, still feeling bloated and a bit sore after your night with Spencer. Your night together had been wonderful, but you were quickly realizing that those nights would be further and fewer in between if Tulip kept having trouble.
You wished he were here right now, holding your hand. You were sure he’d sit on the edge of the bed and rub your shoulders, that he’d comfort Tulip the best he could… you couldn’t wait to introduce him to Charlie. He’d really like him.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you quickly rolled over to snatch it and answer. Tulip stirred as you held it up to your ear, turning to squint up at you.
“Mom?”
“It’s okay, baby, go back to sleep,” you murmured as you heard Spencer’s voice on the other end. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Okay,” she grumbled, nuzzling back into the pillow and tugging the covers tighter over her body.
You slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind you, going to sit on the edge of the tub and put your head in your hand, “You still there?”
“Is this a bad time?” he asked softly, “I can let you go.”
“No,no,” you insisted, feeling relief just at the sound of his voice. “I’m just about to get ready for work.”
“Ahh, well we’re twinning tonight,” Spencer chuckled. You heard clothing shift on the other end, no doubt his tie slipping from his collar. “I’ve got to work tonight too. Just thought I’d hear your voice a bit before.”
“Are you okay? You sound tired.”
“Yeah, just… a long night ahead of me,” he replied quietly. “Trying to finish something up so we can have dinner this week without interruption.”
“Y’know, I still don’t know what you do, Spencer,” you realized, dread washing over you in the same instant.
“And I don't know what you do, sweetheart,” he returned, but it was light. “All in good time, I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Spencer shuffled around the room, going through drawers. “Hey, I’m trying to look casual tonight and not stuffy. Is a button up with no tie casual?”
You laughed quietly, “You got a hot date?”
He made a noise of disgruntlement, “Eh, more like a work event I’m not looking forward to. I’m just nervous, it’s not really my scene.”
“Wear some dark slacks and one of those patterned purple button ups,” you offered, “Unbutton a few at the top just for me.”
You bit your thumb as he laughed on the other end, “Okay, just for you I will.”
Your stomach churned as you sat there listening to him move around, and you let out a long sigh to try to calm it. You heard him stop, “You still feeling sick?”
“I’m okay. I’ve got five kids, Spencer, they probably gave me something.”
“Okay,” he said slowly, and you could hear his frown through the phone. “Maybe you should take the night off.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said quietly. You listened for Tulip on the other side of the door, satisfied when you heard her snoring instead. Biting your lip and eyeing the door, you whispered, “I love you, Spencer.”
He chuckled lightly, and you found yourself blushing, “I love you too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I gotta go. I love you, stay out of trouble.”
“Never,” you replied devilishly.
He laughed once more before he hung up, leaving you alone in the bathroom. You set the phone on the sink ledge just in time for your stomach to lurch once more, and you barely got the toilet lid up in time before you emptied it into the bowl.
You tried to keep quiet as the nausea was gone just as quick as it came, staring in horror as realization washed over you. The bloating, the nausea, the sore and tender breasts… you hadn’t felt like this since…
Since you were pregnant with Poppy.
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you flushed the toilet and crawled over to the sink. Opening the cabinet underneath, you dug through it until you found a familiar pink box you’d stared at four times before.
Quickly you ripped open the box and went about taking the test, sitting anxiously on the toilet as you struggled to gain enough courage to even pee on the damned stick. It took ten minutes of leg jiggling and trying to calm yourself down before you finally managed to do it.
Snatching a paper towel and setting it on the counter, you grabbed your phone and opened the screen only to be confronted by a photo of your family. You, Charlie, all five of the girls… Tulip, Daisy, Ivy and Willow, and Poppy all grinning back at you.
Were you ready for more?
Your heart beat wildly in your chest at the thought. You didn’t know enough about Spencer to know if you were ready this quickly. He didn’t know your job, your past, all your kids’ names… he hadn’t even met Charlie yet! So much was happening so quickly and you didn’t know how prepared you were for it.
He said he wanted to marry you… but that was just talk, right?
You set your timer for three minutes, sitting with your back to the edge of the tub and trying not to stare at it. Your fingers rubbed anxiously along the strand of delicate pearls Spencer had gotten you.
You knew Spencer would be a great dad, that he not only wanted kids but wanted the kids you had and a life with you. He would be perfect and Charlie would love him… but you hadn’t talked about so much. What would his reaction be when he found out his love was a former stripper with a sordid past? Would he leave?
You’d still have Charlie and the kids, but the thought of Spencer rejecting you brought terrified tears to your eyes. Your chin wobbled and you thought about calling Charlie, confessing your fears to your best friend and having him comfort you, but the girls needed him and Tulip needed you.
The only real way this could be happening was if your IUD dislodged… you'd have to go get it removed and checked out.
It felt like years before the tinkling chime echoed through the bathroom, signaling time was up. With a shaky hand, you reached up and grabbed the test from the counter.
You looked up at the ceiling, praying for good news, even though you weren’t sure what you wanted. Pulling in a shaky breath, you held it and counted to three before letting it go.
One.
Two.
Three.
Turning the test over in your hands, your jaw dropped when you spotted two lines inside the little oval screen. The stick clattered to the floor with an earth shattering clack as you stared wide eyed at nothing at all.
It was positive.
You were pregnant with Spencer Reid’s baby.
Notes: **GASP** Sweetheart's pregnant! And Spencer's going to The Nocturne tonight... where she'll be performing... WHAT do you think is going to happen?????? Are you excited to see a night at the Nocturne?
Summary: Spencer has his turn, and it goes an unexpected way
Spencer didn't want to get up for a bath, so you went in yourself and filled the tub with vanilla scented bubbles and oils.
You knew he was sore and tired, but you managed to coax him from the bed with the promise of a back massage. Most of the bath was spent talking about nothing while you rubbed the frankly ridiculous knots from his shoulders, kissing his freckles and his neck, delighting in the way he shivered.
After, Spencer ordered some food. Deciding he was finished with being the focus of the night, he hand fed you pasta and for dessert chocolate covered strawberries. Kissing you after each one, he made sure to shove his tongue down your throat just to taste it on your lips.
You were laying with your head on his lap in the bed, dressed in nothing but your pearls as he scratched your scalp with one hand, using the other to lightly drag his knuckles up and down your belly before coming up to grope your breasts. Some movie played on the television on the dresser, but neither of you were really paying attention, just focused on one another's touch and company after a long week.
"These feel bigger," Spencer remarked, sliding his palm across your sternum to grab one of your breasts, squeezing lightly.
You groaned and adjusted uncomfortably. You still felt a little gross and bloated, not that the pasta had been much help. "Aunt Flo is on her way."
Spencer sniggered, "I get to earn my red wings next week, then."
You shot him a playful glare, "You've already earned your red wings plenty of times over."
He poked the tip of your nose, "I'll earn them every month, then. You have no idea how good you taste, sweetheart."
You just shook your head and looked back to the movie, but it seemed Spencer had other plans. His thumb slid across your nipple, tweaking it lightly before moving on to the other one. In your sensitive pre-menstruation state, it sent a volley of airy tingles through your chest. You pretended not to notice, as he pretended he wasn’t doing anything to rile you up.
It was difficult, though. You were still coming down of an orgasmic high from earlier, a prideful ride after fucking Spencer in his sleep. He pulled his hand from you long enough to lick his fingers, his warm palm cupping you as his wet fingertips rubbed your aching bud. You breathed in sharply, that familiar heat blossoming in your cheeks and across your chest, but you stayed still.
If he’d wanted you to move, he would have told you.
He trailed down your chest and belly, making his way to the patch of hair on your mound. Your legs spread automatically, on instinct, because you were his plaything and you acted like it. When his fingers brushed your lips, a whimper squeaked its way from your chest, your back arching as you pouted up at him.
Spencer paid you no mind even though he was hard beneath you, just leaned against the headboard and watched the movie. He brushed back your hair with his free hand, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. You pushed out your breasts to entice him, but he didn’t seem to notice.
He dragged his finger along your slit, and your eyes closed in aching anticipation, but he stopped just before your clit and moved back down.
“Daddy…” you whined, closing your thighs to trap his hand.
Spencer’s hand moved from your pussy in a flash, slapping your exposed sex sharply and making you cry out in shock. His other hand threaded into your hair and gripped tightly, and he didn’t look at you even though he growled, “I’m playing with my toy. Don’t interrupt.”
Your legs trembled as you opened them once more for him, and he rewarded you with a soft hand brushing over your forehead. You sighed and closed your eyes, melting into his touch in utter bliss. You could spend forever lounging in his arms.
Spencer toyed with you slowly, feeling you up and spreading the growing slick bit by bit. You were still open from earlier, still wet with anticipation, and you let your legs hang open as you waited patiently for his next command.
Finally, his fingers delved into your pussy, fingers smoothing around your hole and pressing just a little inside before coming back up to brush your clit. Your hips jumped with sensitivity, but you stayed still for him.
You opened your eyes slowly to gaze up wondrously at him. His eyes glittered with mischief as he touched you softly, working you up until you were wriggling anxiously. He was beautiful, exquisitely so, and you couldn't help yourself when you reached up to run your fingers over his pink bottom lip.
Spencer licked your fingertips lightly with the tip of his tongue, but he didn't stop you. Instead, he smiled down at you, "You drive me crazy, sweetheart."
You grinned up at him and keened, "Because you love me?"
He chuckled, his eyes full of love and gentleness for you, "Because I love you."
Spencer moved his hands beneath your head and lifted you from his lap, turning you until your head was pressed into the pillows and you were laid out beneath him. Planting himself between your thighs, Spencer reached over and opened the nightstand drawer. He pulled out a bottle of lube and a familiar little bullet vibrator and set them next to you on the bed.
After closing the drawer, he covered your body with his and gave you a passionate kiss, slow and full of longing. Your hands tangled into his hair as he cupped your jaw, and you moaned into his mouth. His cock pressed against your cunt, hard and throbbing, but he wasn't in a hurry, just kissing you and caressing your skin.
His lips dragged along yours, errant spit smearing along your cheek with each slide. One of his hands moved from your jaw and smoothed down your neck to your shoulder, down your side and under your back, making it arch as he pulled you close. He was warm against you, his body pressed against yours, soft and firm in all the right places.
"I really love you," Spencer murmured in between kisses, groaning quietly and rocking his body into you. "So much, so much…"
Grinning against his lips, you kissed him back and whispered just as sweetly, "I love you, Spencer. I love you."
Spencer smiled and rested his forehead against yours, watching you intently with those beautiful eyes, "Are you ready?"
You nodded, "I'm ready, daddy."
He smirked pridefully and got to his knees, reaching out for the lube bottle and popping it open. You spread your legs wide for him, trying to keep your body from tensing with anxiety as he squeezed a bit onto his fingers.
You shivered as you watched him, barely holding back an excited grin as Spencer smoothed it out to warm it up for you. When he saw you he stuck out his tongue playfully and shoved you down with a palm to your chest, quickly mounting you once more.
"We can stop anytime you want," he said seriously, but his voice was soft. "You give me the red light and I'll stop in a heartbeat."
You gulped and smiled shakily at him, "If you can take that pink monster, I can take you, big boy."
Spencer huffed a laugh and shook his head, pressing his lips to yours and bringing his fingers between you. A shudder rocked its way up your spine as his warm wet fingertips pressed to your ass, his hot breath fanning across your lips.
"Color?" he asked sweetly.
"Green," you replied.
Spencer dove in and gave you a hard kiss, languid and full of longing as he circled his fingers around your unfucked hole. You gasped and tensed, but he just smoothed his free hand down the inside of your thigh.
"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. We'll go slow."
Spencer softly pushed at the ring of muscle, and when you sucked a breath in he kissed you again. His tongue pushed between your teeth as he probed your asshole gently, working in slowly. To distract yourself from your own anxiety, you tangled your fingers in his hair and focused on kissing him back, tongues battling for dominance even though you knew who would always win.
You whimpered when he pressed inside, a slight burning making your legs twitch and shake. Spencer distracted you with sloppy kisses, lips dragging and moving so you had to follow him just to kiss him back. You didn’t even realize how deep he’d gotten until his knuckle breached you, making you gasp and your eyes fly open.
“Shh, shh, shh,” he hushed, kissing the corner of your mouth and down your cheek. “Relax, sweetheart. Open up for me.”
You nodded and whined anyway, willing yourself to relax as Spencer pumped his coated finger inside, curling just enough to make you see stars and heat rush to your cheeks.
“Sh-should I be on my knees?” you asked nervously, “Would that make it easier?”
Spencer shook his head and gave you a quick kiss, “I wanna see you when I fuck you.”
The burning subsided to him gliding in and out with ease as you let your body go lax, kissing Spencer and letting him play the way he wanted. You dripped from your slick cunt, and it slipped down between your cheeks and onto Spencer’s hand as your breathing picked up.
“See?” he chuckled, pulling out and pressing a second finger inside. Your teeth gritted with the new stretch, feeling full in odd places as Spencer nuzzled close and whispered, “So wet, just from having this little ass fingered… You can do it, I know you can. I know you want it, sweetheart.”
“I do, I want it,” you murmured breathily back, nodding against him as his thick fingers stretched you open. You didn’t even have a prostate and this was starting to feel so good you could cum… but your pussy was so empty.
You found yourself rocking down slowly on his hand, mouth hung open as Spencer watched with glittering eyes. His gaze took in each quiver of your jaw, each gasp that huffed from your lips, goading you on with gentle prodding.
Heat coursed through your veins like a wildfire, fingers scissoring inside you slow and methodically. Spencer captured your lips with his as your pussy clenched around nothing in excitement. You were so ready for this, ready for him, ready to give your trust to him in a new way.
Spencer kissed you again as he slipped his fingers from your fingered hole. You whined at the empty feeling, but Spencer tutted and slapped the inside of your thigh lightly, “Patience, sweetheart.”
Spencer groaned as he picked up the lube and popped it open once more. You watched with your bottom lip held tightly between your teeth as he squirted it into his fingers and smoothed it down his cock, hissing at the cool sensation. He watched you through hooded lids as he jerked himself off slowly, smirking your way.
“You gonna fuck me or not?” you pouted, and he chuckled.
Spencer’s large hand wrapped around his dick slid smoothly with the lube, and you watched as his balls tightened in anticipation, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. You arched your back and spread your legs wide for him, grinning as his pupils blew wide.
He growled and crawled over your body once more, eyes going dark even as you smiled widely beneath him. He leaned in close and cocked one brow at you, “I said I was going to be gentle, but if you keep testing me I may not be so nice.”
He reached between you and gripped the base of his dick, the blunt head pressing against your stretched hole and making your jaw drop. In a low voice he asked, “Are you going to be good?”
You nodded excitedly, “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”
“You better be,” he said lowly, but when he kissed you it was soft.
Spencer kissed you gently, slowly pushing inside with gentle rolls of his hips. Your head swam with the stretching burn, the sensation of being filled, and you clung to him and the feeling of his lips against yours. He pumped himself slowly, grunting through gritted teeth as he tried to hold himself back.
“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your face, fucking you slowly and carefully when you knew he wanted to pound you until you were nothing. “Oh, god, sweetheart, I knew you’d be perfect.”
You smiled softly as he sheathed fully inside, thick and holding you wide open, his chest pressing to yours and holding you down on the mattress. His cock was somehow heavier like this, throbbing and hot in such a forbidden place, and you loved it.
“Daddy?” you asked quietly, and he looked to you through bleary unfocused eyes, hazy with lust. “Wanna cum, please.”
He huffed a strained laugh, struggling to keep himself in check when you were still begging for more and he hadn’t truly gotten to start yet. You’d both wanted this for a while, but never got the opportunity, and you just wanted to experience it together.
Propping himself up on one elbow as you wrapped your legs around his waist, hiking them up to keep yourself wide open for him, Spencer kissed you and shakily pulled most of the way out. His lips pressed insistently against yours as he slid back in without much resistance on your body’s part.
You moaned at the sensation, full and heady and so delightfully dirty, his cock in your ass and his heart belonging to you. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he fucked into you slowly, working you up even though you were both ready now.
Sensing your neediness, Spencer got up on his knees. Gripping your hip with one hand, he rocked into you as his thumb smoothed through your pussylips and gathered up your slick, moving up to rub along your clit in tight circles.
Your back arched as you watched him through hooded lids. You were so sensitive from earlier, from cumming on that dildo as you fucked him and his playing with you after. You knew you weren't going to last long, and by the desperate look in his eye he wasn't going to either.
"You look so pretty like this, daddy," you muttered, hips jerking and ass clenching with each swipe of his thumb. His curls clung to his forehead with sweat lining his skin from the effort of holding back.
"I'm not gonna last long," he warned, and you nodded in reply.
You reached over and grabbed the vibrator from the covers, letting out a small grunt of discomfort as Spencer gripped you by the backs of your knees and pushed them up. He waited for you to turn on the bullet before thrusting into you once more.
He held you wide open as you pressed the little toy to your clit, groaning to himself as the vibrations got to him. His cheeks were patched bright red, trailing down his chest and belly. His voice was husky as he watched you play with yourself, “Look at you…”
You bit your lip, smirking at him as he fucked your ass with pained thrusts. Your hips twitched each time you swirled the toy around your clit, the burning stretch only making you wetter.
“You like getting your asshole fucked, sweetheart?” he asked lowly, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he held you up.
“Yeah, daddy,” you gasped, your pussy squelching as you clenched around nothing. “Fuck me harder.”
Spencer’s hips stuttered and slowed, his brows furrowing, “Can you take it?”
“I can take it,” you promised, giving him a pout and arching your back. As if to prove your point, you turned the vibrator speed up on your sensitive bundle of nerves, letting your eyes flutter closed at the beautiful sensations.
“C’mon, daddy, please!” you begged when he didn’t do as you asked. “Want it so bad… I need to be fucked up the ass, I need you to fill me up, please!”
His jaw clenched as the dilemma rocked through his mind, but soon enough he dropped your legs and leaned over you. Spencer gripped your throat as he braced himself on the bed, angling your neck to force you into a fierce kiss.
It was a clash of teeth and tongue, rough thrusts as he fucked your ass raw and hard. It hurt… hurt so fucking good as he stretched you open on his dick, thick and throbbing without mercy. Your hips rocked down to meet him with each one, your hand crushed between his belly and yours as you did your best to swirl your clit with the bullet.
The vibrations rocketed through you, and you used your other hand to tug harshly at his hair. Spencer was relentless, growling and growling as he used you like a sleeve. Though his kisses were rough, dragging and pulling and insistent, his love and care for you was the best thing shining through. If you hissed in pain or made a noise he wasn’t sure of, Spencer switched speeds, angles, anything to keep you comfortable.
The heat became too much, the swiping vibrations through your empty cunt overwhelming and soaking both your bellies, and your vision whited out as you came. Your fingers and toes curled as pure ecstacy ripped through you, a sharp guttural cry that seemingly shook the room.
You heard Spencer’s pained grunts as he fucked you through it, trying to last long enough for you to enjoy yourself. Your body overstimulated and hazy as you came down, you turned off the vibrator and wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.
“Cum for me, daddy,” you murmured hotly in his ear, taking care to press your lips to that spot behind his ear that he loved. “Cum right in my little hole, you can do it for me.”
“Oh, thank god,” he gasped, and while you expected a little more from him, Spencer buried his cock as far in your ass as he could and let out a long groan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You yelped in shock as cum flooded your ass, hot and thick and making your jaw drop as you held him. He thrust short and fast as he spurted thick ropes inside you, fingers gripping the sheets tight enough to shred.
When Spencer finally slowed, he collapsed on top of you. You groaned at his body weight, your own overused and rubbery after such a long night. Spencer got painfully to his knees and pulled out slowly, both of you gasping at the sensation.
He flopped on the bed next to you, and you halfheartedly slapped your knuckles on his chest. He gripped your hand tightly as he panted, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it.
“I thought I would last longer,” he huffed.
“Me too.”
Your head rolled in time to see him doing the same, and when you locked eyes you both burst into laughter.
Spencer pulled you close and into the crook of his arm, wrapping his hands around you to squeeze tightly. He kissed the top of your head and murmured, “I had so many dirty things I wanted to say but it’s like my mind was erased the second I got inside.”
You chuckled against his side as he kissed your hand again. “It was amazing, Spencer. I loved it, even if I couldn’t do anything but take it. I wanted to say more dirty things, too.”
“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked suddenly, angling up so he could look at you. You simply reached up, palmed his face, and pushed his head back into the pillow.
When he let out a little grunt, you brushed your fingertips along his lips as you watched him stare at the ceiling, “I’m fine, Spence. I never gave you the red light, did I?”
“Well, no,” he mumbled slowly. “No you didn’t.”
You smiled to yourself, and when you lightly pulled on his bottom lip, Spencer pretended to try and take a bite of your fingers.
"Are you busy Friday?" you asked lightly, even though your next question was a loaded one.
"God, I hope not. I'm planning on being here," he chuckled, looking down at you and giving you a goofy grin.
"What if we went…out for dinner?"
Now Spencer frowned at you, "Isn't that the plan?"
You waved a hand dismissively, "Plans, plans, make them and God laughs."
Spencer made a face and got up on his elbows to peer down at you, "What are you on about?"
You groaned a little as you sat up, trying to ignore your sore backside. Naked and vulnerable, you reached out your pinky, and Spencer looped his with yours.
"We said we'd go slow, just dates…and then we spent the night at a romantic cabin. We said we'd wait to meet the kids… and then you meet three out of five at a random soccer game you didn't want to go to."
"All true," he said slowly, cocking a brow at you and your evasiveness. "All wonderful experiences I cherish."
You smiled softly at his earnestness, "We said slow and it hasn't been more than a few real months of dating and we've told one another we love each other."
Now his gaze turned worried, and he gripped your hand tighter, "What is it, sweetheart? You're scaring me?"
"I love you," you told him, eyes blazing with sincerity. He opened his mouth to speak but you interrupted him. "I want you to meet my husband and kids, on purpose this time. I'm tired of tiptoeing around the fact that I want to spend forever with you."
Spencer broke out in a teary smile, laughing lightly to himself. He got to his knees and took your hands in his, both of you naked and covered in one another unashamedly.
"I'm gonna tell you something, and even if you want to run screaming from this room, I'm asking you not to," Spencer said seriously, and you made a face before nodding.
He took a deep breath, holding it in before letting it go. His pretty hazel eyes bored into yours, glittering with love and excitement.
"I love you. I've known that for a year and a half, since I saw you in the hotel bar," he began, and you smiled at the memory. Spencer held your hands tightly, smiling so sweet and soft you could have melted right there. "If I knew that on day one, then I have no doubt that this funny feeling I have is going to come true."
"What feeling? Are you sick?"
"No," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm going to marry you. Maybe not this year, maybe not for ten, but one of these days I'm going to call you my wife."
Your eyes filled with tears, and without warning you flung your arms around his shoulders. Your sore breasts pressed against him, but you didn't care as Spencer clutched you tightly to his chest.
"That's okay, right?" Spencer asked worriedly as you cried in his arms.
You pulled back and smiled at him, "If you marry me, you also marry Chuck and his girlfriend, and you'll get five kids to boot. Are you okay with that?"
Spencer looked at you like you were an idiot, "Sweetheart, of course I am. A life with you and the people we love… that's everything I want."
"So…" you murmured, a playful smile creeping its way along your cheeks, "You wanna have dinner with my husband Friday night, future husband?"
Spencer scoffed and nodded, his chest shaking as he laughed, "It's a date. A really weird, weird date, but one I'm excited for."
"Baby with this family, weird is all you'll get."
He pulled you down to lay on the bed, and you knew soon you'd both have to clean up and leave, going back to your lives apart. But soon you'd have those lives together, and one day forever.
You trusted him. He trusted you. It was all going so perfectly.
Maybe too perfect.
Notes: Please let me know what you think! Why do you think Sweetheart's feeling all bloated? Aunt Flo or... something else? o.O
Tw: intense feelings of guilt and regret, mental breakdown, psychological abuse, gaslighting, choking, arguing, general angst, talk of dead parents, talk of murder, feelings of not being good enough. (If I missed anything please let me know)
A/N: DARK CHAPTER. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND READ WARNINGS. TAKE CARE OF YOUR MENTAL HEALTH!!
A/N 2: this chapter contains extreme gaslighting by Spencer. I am very aware that this is OOC for him. That he wouldn’t do this. But this is necessary for the story to progress. Spencer is the bad guy in this story, that is the entire point of it. And what he is doing to Y/N is never okay. I want to make that EXPLICITLY clear. I do not condone this type of behavior and in real life situations, this is not okay.
I did good. I know I did. But the feeling inside me? That wasn’t good. I felt… disgusting, sad. I’d do anything to impress Spencer; to make him proud. But seeing JJ’s family photos made something inside me wither, just slightly. Okay, maybe a lot more than slightly.
I sneak a peek at the criminal beside me, the smile on his face just as beautiful as he was. He was truly Lucifer, the beautiful angel who became too impressed with himself. The fallen angel who wanted positions of power. He think he is a God, one who can use his intelligence to get away with anything. But we all know how a story of intense hubris ends.
I look back at my fingers, blinking back tears of guilt and frustration. I wouldn’t let him see me cry; see me weak. No. I wouldn’t allow that. But I couldn’t ignore the feelings eating me alive inside. I knew my parents wouldn’t be proud of the life I was leading, or of the man beside me. I knew I’d never get the family I dreamed of, because there was no getting away from Spencer Reid.
“What’s your problem?” His voice is a little rough, but I can hear the thrill and excitement running through it.
I shake my head and will myself to look over at him, “nothing.” I throw him a smile and force it to reach my eyes. God, I was fucking exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life?
“I can tell when you’re lying to me and you know how much I hate liars.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at him. I wanted to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone. That I didn’t want to do this anymore. That I was sick and tired of his games. But I didn’t.
“I’m really fine. I’m just exhausted. Must be because I’m coming down from the adrenaline.” It sounded believable enough to me and I just prayed he bought it.
I watch his hands grip the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white, “I’ll let it slide for now. But you better get your shit together.”
Get your shit together as if I was the one who couldn’t let it go that his “friends” weren’t as good as he wanted. I huff a humorless laugh, “I have my shit together.”
Now, its his turn to laugh and all I can do is brace for the insults and anger that was about to come my way. “No, my pet, you fucking don’t. You didn’t have it together when I met you, and you sure as shit don’t have it together now. You are nothing without me. Do you fucking hear me?”
I flinch, literally flinch at his words. I cant stop the tears that flood my eyes and roll down my cheeks. “Then let me go!” My watery voice betraying the brave front I was trying to put on. “If you don’t fucking like me, why do you keep me around?” I’m afraid of his answer. But that’s because I know the answer.
“Because you’re a good fuck. You’re stuck with me until the day we die, do you fucking get that? Don’t even think of trying to leave me, pup. I will hunt you down and trust me, I will always find you.” The bite in his words make me want to curl up and die. And here I thought he loved me.
“I could always turn you in! Then what? I know for a fact that they would give me leeway, maybe even a fucking reward! They don’t know who I am, you said it yourself!”
Spencer says nothing, turning off a side street and into a shady part of town. Now I’m filled with fear. Was he going to kill me? Leave me in the bad part of town where everyone would think it was a drug deal gone wrong? My heart rate picks up at the idea of him truly ending my life.
It isnt until he parks in an abandoned parking lot that he turns his whole body towards me, his hand snapping out and wrapping itself around my airway, allowing on enough air to let me hear what he has to say.
“You really are fucking stupid, aren’t you? They know who you are. They just aren’t hunting you because if they catch me, then they catch you. Naïve little girl.” He squeezes a little harder, “go ahead, my pet. Turn me in. But don’t think for one fucking second that I wont take you down with me. Do you realize I could end your life right here, right now and make it look like a fucking accident? Huh? I am all you fucking have, pup. Your parents are long dead, nothing but bones and dust. No one will come looking for you. No one will claim your body. I am all you have.” His voice is a calm I’ve never heard before. “So, what’s it going to be, my pet? Cause from where I’m sitting? Your best bet is to shut your fucking mouth and do what I say.”
I’m clawing at his hand, begging for more air than he’s allowing. My sob doing nothing but causing the suffocation to come faster. I manage enough air to mutter, “yes, daddy.”
Then, and only then, does he let me go; practically throwing me while I gasp for air. I cough a little, my hands reaching up to my throat to ease the burning. And like it never happened, he turns the car back on and points it home. My head hurts and my stomach is churning.
Because he wasn’t wrong. Besides him, I had no one. No friends, no family, nothing. No one would give a fuck if I was dead. Sure, maybe if I was identified and my old classmates read about it in the paper or on tv. But I’d be nothing more than a passing thought. Just “some girl” they went to school with. “Some girl” with dead parents and a serial killer for a boyfriend. I was trapped with him. But… but maybe that was exactly where I needed to be.
I'm looking for a Spencer Reid x reader fic where they were childhood friends and he taught her chess and they lost contact and she joins the BAU and he acts like he doesn't remember her and they play chess on the jet and she bets him and when the team asks how reader says "I had a pretty good teacher" and they kiss in the elevator cause morgan and Penelope stopped it <3
Summary: When Spencer and his girlfriend run into Elle years after she left the FBI, they quickly realize that there's an undeniable tension between them that begs to be released.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader x Elle Greenaway (yes, it's a threesome)
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) drinking alcohol (responsibly), a hint at an exhibitionist kink, threesome (F/F/M), teasing, oral (both receiving), handjob, fingering, penetrative sex (both protected and unprotected)
Author's Note: Listen… I have no excuses. There's a very chaotic bonus ending you probably shouldn't read. This is a warning.
Word Count: 2.9k
Masterlist
I wasn't sure if the steady beat of the music playing in the bar or Spencer's hands gliding over my back were causing the tingling sensation in my chest. Either way, I was feeling more content in that moment than I had in months.
I took a sip of my gin tonic and it left a bitterness on my tongue that was quickly replaced by the sweetness of Spencer's kiss. He was pushing me flush against his body as his lips met mine while his hands rested on the small of my back.
It was unlike him to display as much affection in public, the alcohol must have made him a bit more courageous. I didn't mind, though. I appreciated the way he showed the whole crowd in that bar in New York City that I was his.
And he was mine.
When his mouth left mine to place featherlight kisses on my neck, I dared to open my eyes for a moment. That was when I saw her.
A woman a few years my elder was watching Spencer and me with a devilish smirk on her face. When she noticed that I had caught on to her staring, she didn't look away.
I didn't either.
Spencer nipped on the sensitive skin of my neck and I couldn't hold back a whimper from escaping my throat. There was no way this woman could have heard that, but she winked at me anyway. It was as if she was studying each of my reactions to my boyfriend's touch.
I knew that I should have been bothered by a stranger watching us so blatantly but the way her eyes lit up as she watched us excited me. The thought that Spencer's actions didn't only arouse me but her as well was thrilling to say the least.
Spencer's mouth found mine once more and I dared to close my eyes but couldn't rid myself of the image of our observer. My heart started fluttering at the thought of her still watching us. I needed to know if she was still there.
Pulling back from Spencer, I spotted this woman walking in our direction and felt my heart skipping a beat.
"You two should get a room," was the first thing she said to us.
Spencer turned around and almost jumped when he saw her.
"Hi Reid," she chuckled.
They knew each other?
"Elle… hi!" Spencer exclaimed.
Elle.
This mysterious woman who unabashedly observed our make-out session was Elle. Spencer had mentioned her when he told me about his first few years at the BAU.
"I see you finally managed to ask someone out," she stated with a grin.
"I did… Y/N, this is Elle Greenaway, we used to work together," Spencer mumbled.
"It's nice to meet you," I said while still trying to understand what was going on.
Spencer's cheeks had taken on a crimson shade and I couldn't tell whether it was me who had caused that or Elle.
"So, what brings you two to New York?" She wanted to know.
I took another sip of my drink before responding, "We needed a little vacation."
Spencer still looked like his brain had trouble processing what was going on when he said, "I didn't know you live here now."
"I joined the NYPD after I left the bureau," she explained.
A moment of silence followed with neither of us knowing what to say until Elle suggested sitting down at a table on the other side of the bar. Even though this wasn't exactly how I imagined this night to go, I still agreed to give them some time to catch up.
When Spencer and Elle were reminiscing about their years working together, I noticed an undeniable chemistry between them and wondered if there was more to their relationship than they let show. We clinked our glasses several times until my usual filter was gone completely.
I needed to know, so I interrupted their conversation.
"Did you guys ever hook up?"
They both looked at me like deer caught in headlights. Spencer must have thought that I was getting jealous because he took my hand before sincerely telling me, "No, we didn't. Nothing ever happened between us."
I couldn't explain why that somehow disappointed me.
"But I thought about it," Elle suddenly confessed, having Spencer look at her in shock.
"What?" She snickered, "I always thought that your lips looked very kissable."
"They are," I agreed before placing a quick peck against them.
"Yeah you made that very clear earlier. You two look so good together," Elle said.
"Is that why you were watching us?" I wanted to know.
"Yes, that and because I couldn't stop imagining what it would feel like to get in the middle of you two."
Spencer's jaw dropped and before he could even grasp where this conversation was leading, I giggled, "Maybe you should try it."
"Y/N!" Spencer squeaked.
Spencer and I had talked about my fantasy of sharing him with another woman before but until this moment I thought that it was just that – a fantasy. I would have never actively pursued this idea even though he didn't seem opposed to it when I let him in on it. In fact, me whispering all those things I would like to do with another woman and him into his ear aroused him more than he would have liked to admit.
"What? It's not like we haven't talked about it," I protested.
Elle raised one eyebrow as she looked at the both of us, her voice sounding deeper than before when she suggested, "Now that's interesting. Maybe we should go get a room together."
Spencer turned his head to face me and asked, "Are you serious about this?"
I nodded, "I am. As long as you're comfortable with it."
"Yeah, I am," Spencer said.
"I need you to be sure about this," I reminded him.
Spencer and I both looked at Elle who had been following our conversation with a smirk prominent on her face. She got up from her chair and walked over to me before grabbing my hand to pull me into a standing position. With a firm grip on my waist she pushed her body against mine.
Her lips were mere inches away from mine and I started to feel like my skin was on fire.
"Do you want this, Y/N?," she purred.
I couldn't answer her then, instead I let our lips meet in a tentative kiss. Elle was quick to take the lead and deepen our connection with her tongue brushing over mine. I could feel Spencer's eyes on us, roaming over our bodies as we lost ourselves in the kiss.
Elle was the one to pull back and step away to find her home in my boyfriend's lap instead. Her fingertips brushed over his cheeks before he harshly grabbed her face to close the distance. As I watched my boyfriend kissing another woman all I could think about was if he could still taste me on her lips.
I placed my hand on Spencer's shoulder to get his attention. Turning his head, he flashed me a worried look until he recognized the lust burning in my eyes.
"Let's get out of here," I suggested.
The taxi ride to our hotel felt unreal, as if our surroundings were covered in a haze. Curious hands wandered over the thin fabric covering thighs and waists until I wasn't able to tell which fingertips belonged to whom.
The three of us were giggling when we stumbled into the hotel room but those sounds were soon replaced by sighs and whines as we explored each other's lips and necks. Elle seemed eager to show the both of us the same amount of attention whereas Spencer and I seemed to have long forgotten that it was usually just the two of us.
With joined effort we helped each other shed every piece of clothing until our skin could touch without any barrier. Elle's mouth never left mine when she pushed me onto the bed. When she kissed down my neck I locked eyes with my boyfriend, still standing beside the bed, watching us.
"Come here," I breathed and reached my hand out to him.
He found his way into my arms and gently kissed my cheek.
"Are you okay, Spencer?" I wanted to make sure.
Elle stopped her attacks against my neck when she heard my words and looked at Spencer instead.
"I'm okay, just… a little overwhelmed," he sincerely told us.
Elle shifted her position so she was lying beside Spencer as well, chuckling, "That's okay, pretty boy. I'm sure we'll find a way for you to relax."
With one woman on each of his sides, Spencer leaned his head back against the pillow, reveling in the sensation of us caressing his neck and chest. When Elle's hand wandered down his body to wrap her fingers around his erection, a whimper escaped his throat.
Elle locked eyes with him, teasing, "Wow, you really are extraordinary, huh?"
I looked down at his body and snickered, "He's so pretty, right?"
Spencer covered his eyes with his hands and groaned, "God, you two are going to be the death of me!"
Elle kissed her way down his body until she found his hardness. I wouldn't have been able to avert my eyes from her even if I had tried to. There was something incredibly erotic about watching another woman taking my boyfriend's cock into her mouth.
The moan that fell from Spencer's lips once Elle’s mouth sank down on him sent sparks through my body.
Turning my head to look at Spencer, I cooed, "You like that, huh?"
"Fuck yes!"
He found my mouth in a greedy kiss as if he wanted to show me who he really belonged to. His hands roamed over my body, caressing my breasts before wandering between my legs. When he found me already dripping with desire he groaned into the kiss.
His fingertips rubbed over my most sensitive spot before he let two of his digits glide into me. My body started trembling when he worked his fingers inside me just the way he knew I liked. Elle left her position from between my boyfriend's legs to hover on top of him instead. Her lips brushed over my cheek until I turned my head to kiss her. I couldn't stop my hand from dancing over the curves and dips of her body, curious to explore every inch of her.
When my hand found her heat, she shifted slightly so I could make contact. I explored her folds before drawing circles around the nub of her core. She started singing my praise in the form of moans and sighs. Her sounds were so mesmerizing that Spencer forgot about his hand between my legs for a moment. He couldn't decide whether to look at her face or where my hand was bringing her pleasure.
When I carefully entered her body with my fingers, he seemed to remember about his abandoned mission and started moving his hand once more.
"Sorry," he chuckled, "I was distracted."
"Yeah, me too," I told him while still looking at Elle.
She was basically grinding against my palm at this point, her arousal covering most of my hand. Just when she threw her head back, I felt her walls pulsating around my fingers. I was so enamored by her reaction to my touch that I didn't even consider slowing down my movements until she shied away from my touch.
She motioned for Spencer to remove his hand from my center and pushed against my shoulder until I was lying on my back.
She winked at Spencer and cooed, "My turn."
I didn't realize what she meant with that until she started kissing her way down my body. She lingered at my chest, licking and kissing each nipple until I felt lightheaded. My hand found Spencer's erection but I wasn't able to do more than stroke him lightly every couple of moments.
He didn't seem to mind. Whenever my thumb would brush over his leaking tip, he would tremble under my touch anyway. His eyes were glued on Elle and I, obviously enjoying the view. When she found her home between my thighs she didn't waste any time letting her tongue glide through my folds, exploring me as if she tried to imprint my uniqueness into her memory.
She stopped for a moment to look up at the both of us. "I want you to fuck me, Spencer."
It took him a moment to understand the meaning of the words we just heard. When he did, he looked at me to ask, "Are you okay with this?"
I reassured him, "Yes I am."
He left my side to get off the bed and find a condom. Elle continued what she had interrupted, bringing me closer to the edge with the steady motions of her tongue. I watched Spencer as he put on the condom and got onto bed behind Elle. He let his hands glide over the curve of her backside before gripping her hips and lifting them slightly to bring her into the right position.
When he slowly entered her, she stopped what she was doing to moan into my skin instead.
Before Spencer started moving he wanted to know the same thing he always asked me in this situation and it made me smile. "You okay?"
Elle turned her head to look at him from the corner of her eyes, groaning, "Yeah, I'm okay. Now will you please fuck me?"
"Gladly."
It took her a moment to adjust to the sensation of my boyfriend thrusting into her before she could keep on pleasuring me. She pushed two fingers into me and moved them at the same pace Spencer was pounding into her. Her lips vibrated against my folds anytime she couldn't hold her moans back.
When I locked eyes with Spencer I could have sworn he had never looked more beautiful with his darkened eyes, glistening skin and rosy cheeks. I kept my eyes on him when Elle let me find my release, my whole body shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me.
It didn't take long for Elle to follow me into this sensation of pure bliss. Her cheeks felt hot against my thigh when she leaned her face against them, singing us the same praise she did moments before. I was expecting Spencer to fall over the edge with us as well but he didn't seem to have found relief yet when he slowed down his movements.
He moved away from her and took the condom off before he lay down beside me. His cock still looked painfully hard. Wrapping my hand around it, I looked at him as I moved it up and down with a firm grip.
"What do you need, Spencer?"
He stared at me with the utmost adoration in his eyes before he asked me, "Can I uhm… come inside you?"
Elle got up from the mattress and laughed, "Such a romantic!"
"You don't have to leave," I told her as she walked away from the bed.
"No, I'm good. I just want to take a shower real quick," she said before disappearing in the bathroom.
I wrapped my arms around my boyfriend to pull him on top of me. He moved with me until he was hovering over me and let me reach between our bodies to guide him into my waiting heat. With my arms and legs around his bodies I didn't allow any distance between us as he started moving and lost himself inside my embrace.
It didn't take long for him to bury his face into the crook of my neck, moaning against my skin as pleasure overcame him. He was twitching inside me as any remaining tension left his body and he found relief at last. Gently he kissed the side of my face before he lay down beside me. When Elle came out of the bathroom, she quickly picked up her clothes from the floor and put them on.
"Elle, you can stay if you want," Spencer offered.
"I'm not the type to cuddle afterwards but thank you for the offer. Really, I had a lot of fun with the both of you tonight. Goodnight, lovebirds!" Elle chirped after gathering all her things and walked towards the hotel room door.
BONUS ENDING
Author's Note: Here's a very chaotic bonus ending I wrote solely for my own amusement. Don't read it if you don't want to see things getting unhinged.
Before Elle touched the door handle, she turned around with a wide grin on her face. Looking at Spencer she said, "I just realized that now that I had sex with you, I have officially slept with every profiler I used to work with."
"Wait, what? …Even Hotch?" He paused for a second before his eyes widened and he exclaimed, "GIDEON?!"
"Gideon was very kind and gentle. Unlike Hotch, who–"
"Stop! I really don't want to know," Spencer interrupted her.
"Alright, I'll tell you about it next time then. Call me when you happen to be in town," Elle chuckled before she stepped out of the room.
I turned to Spencer who still looked shocked at her words. When he found my eyes, he mumbled, "Next time?"
I placed a soft kiss on his lips before responding, "We'll see about that."
Feedback helps me stay motivated to write more fics and your comments mean the world to me! Let me know what you think here!
Summary: A few weeks at the new house and Bunny's mind starts to play tricks on her...
It took a few weeks to get everything unpacked, mostly because Spencer kept pushing you onto every surface and into every closet he could and pounding the lights out of you.
You were so precious, your eyes glowing with childlike wonder as he hung Christmas lights on a precarious ladder, praying he wouldn't fall and break his neck. The fear was worth your giggling beneath him, and when he was finished you insisted he plug them in with you so you could do it together.
He barely got you inside the mudroom before he tore your clothes off.
When he helped you put up the Christmas tree, wrapped in a turtleneck as you wore a sweaterdress and boots with nothing underneath, it took everything he had to wait until you were finished to fuck you on the floor. After, sweaty and exhausted, he lifted you up naked as a jaybird so you could put the star on top.
He couldn't help himself, really he couldn't.
When this all started, Spencer's intentions with you were to just have another outlet. With you next door, his frustrations and the tightness in his shoulders eased every time he slipped inside you, so warm and pliant beneath his grip. You were addicting.
As time went on, he became increasingly drawn to you and your smile, the way you hugged him close and kissed his temples and cheeks. What started as a welcome release every few weeks became a daily necessity, to be with you every chance he could.
It had been years since he felt so comfortable with someone, and had his worries wash away the moment he saw them. They were still there in the back of his mind, but he wasn't plagued by nightmares and bodies and crime scenes when he was with you.
All you ever needed was for him to be there. Even after months of pushing you away and sleeping with other people, you just wanted him. He didn't even have to speak, you just seemed to like his presence. There were few people who had ever asked that of him.
At work, his brain was demanded to process at high speeds and provide answers where his team found none. He knew his team loved him and cared for him, but they always seemed to want his mind more than him.
In your arms, Spencer was safe, but in his you weren't.
He'd lost so many people just because of who he was, because of his job. Gideon, Hotch, Maeve, Max, Walker. He was dangerous to be around, and he'd nearly lost his own mother because of his job.
Cat and Lindsey might be gone, but Scratch was still out there. He was still hunting the BAU.
From your spot on the floor in front of the fireplace, Spencer hugged you close as he stared into the flames. You snored loudly in the crook of his shoulder, your body draped over his. This had been the last room to be christened in the new house, and you'd broken in a new carpet on the hardwood flooring.
He had you covered in a fuzzy blanket, rubbing your back lightly so you would fall asleep. He'd considered taking you upstairs to sleep in bed, but then he'd have to leave you alone up there while he smothered the fire.
Leaving you was getting harder. The near constant fear that something or someone would take you away threatened to make him run and hide, but he couldn't do that to you.
Sex had always been a release for Spencer. It was rarely something to do with or for someone else, a reflection of desires and trust. Instead, it was a primal release to clear his mind enough so he could continue working.
Since he started sleeping with you… sex became more. It meant more to him, even when he was bruising you and calling you filthy names. It became a mirror of his feelings for you, a way to tell you how much he cared and wanted you to feel safe and wanted and cared for.
The first step of his downfall was moving to the living room to fuck people so you wouldn't hear. The thought of you sleeping on your couch so you wouldn't have to listen to it and be hurt… it pierced something deep within him.
Soon enough he was sleeping over, which he hadn't really done before. The more he learned about how little you'd been pleased by others and taken care of, he started to overcompensate in bed so you would know what it was like to let go and feel good without having to think about it.
After the threesome with Luke, Spencer finally saw how little he really took care of you. The pain in your voice when you said he only came to you for sex… he hadn't even thought you would think such a thing.
That was how it started, but it wasn't what it became. Six wonderful months of spending most of his time with you and taking you to dinner, and Spencer found himself wanting more. He started sleeping with others less, becoming bored with it and preferring to be with you. Less and less had he kept you at arms length, instead preferring to be nestled into yours.
The problem was, he was so protective of you he could hardly breathe if there wasn't proof you were alive and well in front of him. It made him antsy and he couldn't sleep, for fear that if someone found out about you you'd get hurt.
As of now Luke was the only one, but with you moving in and him agreeing to only see you, Spencer knew that was likely to change.
The only reason Spencer had continued sleeping with others was so he wouldn't risk falling in love with you. It's the same reason he wouldn't kiss you.
Then this would all become real, too real, and he'd lose you like he lost everyone else. He was just yours now, and happy to be, but each passing day felt closer to the end. One day you'd leave because of his job, or get hurt because of it, and Spencer would spend the rest of his life being haunted by your ghost.
If he never kissed you, he wouldn't have to miss it when it was gone.
Sniffling to himself, Spencer pulled you tighter to his skin as if to make you melt into him. You grumbled and pushed at him in your sleep, but he held you close and kissed your forehead. That always did the trick, and you relaxed and sighed.
Rolling you onto your back, Spencer laid on top of you and buried his face in your neck. The fire crackled in the background as you stirred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and groaning.
"Spencer?" you huffed, "You're heavy…"
"Am I?" he asked playfully, smirking against you.
Your legs were still damp from his latching onto your clit earlier and then fucking you into the carpet, and he knew you had rugburns in unfun places, but he couldn't help himself as the feeling of your used cunt pressed against his length, stirring him and riling him up.
Spreading on instinct, you clung to him as he lined himself up and pressed inside. You let out a little grunt, sore and tired, but still wet and open and ready just for him. You were so warm and tight, safe around him and far more special than you realized.
Bottoming out, Spencer hissed as he molded his body to yours. He needed this, this contact. You were here, you were safe, you were with him.
"Mmm," you swallowed thickly, smacking your lips as you sleepily let him do what he wanted to you and seemingly reading his mind, "I'm right here, Spencer."
Your fingers trailed up his spine, one hand lacing into his hair while the other rubbed his back to comfort him. You had no idea what you did to him, that just your touch could make him feel at ease.
"Need you, bunny," Spencer murmured, and you nodded with your eyes closed.
"'m right here, Spencer. You have me."
He gently rolled his hips, far sweeter and smoother than he'd done with any partner before, kissing your neck. You sighed and relaxed beneath him, your body wrapping around him like you were made to take him.
Still half asleep, you moaned quietly with each soft thrust. Spencer didn't want you to have to wake all the way up, so he kept himself in check even though it was always difficult. You were warm and soaking wet, gripping his cock with your muscles and pulling him back in each time he dragged himself out.
It always left him in awe, the way your body responded to his, wanting him just as much as he wanted you. You never shied away, never thought twice about rocking back and taking your own pleasure as he took his. But you also gave… and he'd never had that before.
Every partner Spencer had wanted what he did, to take and be emptied and carefree after, but not you. Without him asking, you gave to Spencer just because you wanted to. On your knees, with your hands or your mouth, with everything you had you gave so he could feel wanted and needed. He wasn't a tool to get off with, to you Spencer was with you in each moment. It was intoxicating and dangerous.
Spencer picked up his pace, watching you carefully. Your eyelids fluttered as you reveled in his attention, peaceful and trusting. Your slick dripped between the two of you, letting him glide and ease you open like the precious creature you were unlike the rough fucking he'd subjected you to earlier in the evening.
Red blotched your cheeks, your hair fanning out on the patterned carpet as you gasped. He felt you tense up, saw the way you began to shudder. Your fingers tightened in his hair, nails scratching down his back as you nuzzled your nose next to his and cried out quietly in the dark. You tightened around him as you came, and it took all he had to hold back as he groaned.
"Good girl," Spencer whispered, pressing his lips to your cheek over and over. "Good bunny, I'm so proud of you."
You whimpered the way you always did when he praised you, and it made his heart flood with warmth. When he buried his face in your neck, you clung to him and kissed his shoulder.
Your lips dragged sleepily across his skin, your light huffs with each thrust fanning breath across his ear. "My sweet, sweet bunny. You're everything to me."
Your happy grunt vibrated through his chest where it was pressed to yours, his own orgasm coming faster than he anticipated. He always came faster than he thought he would with you, and it took until recently to realize it was because he trusted you enough to do so.
"Hmm," you sighed, and he could tell you were falling asleep once more. Hugging him tightly before going lax into the carpet you said in a quiet voice, "I love you, Spencer."
Without warning, Spencer came hard. He dropped down on top of you as he mindlessly thrusted again and again until he was spent, his mind blissed out and shocked at the same time. You clenched around him in your sleep, and as Spencer's chest heaved he got up on his elbows to look at you.
Your arms slipped from his neck and fell to the floor, tired and fucked out. You didn't seem to know what you said or even care, dead asleep and looking like an angel with your red cheeks.
Spencer brushed back your hair and you grumbled as he tried to get your attention, but after a long day of fucking and moving you were long gone.
"Bunny?" he asked quietly, unsure if he wanted to hear you answer. "Do you love me?"
You let out a little hum, but all you did was curl up on your side and tug the blanket over your naked body. Spencer rubbed your back as he loomed over you, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he couldn't believe you didn't wake.
"Bunny?"
You harrumphed and grumbled when he pushed on your back, "Spencer, I can't go again, I'm too tired."
"I don't want to go again," he murmured, leaning down and kissing your arm. "Do you love me, bunny?"
You were annoyed and half asleep, shoving at him halfheartedly so he'd leave you alone, "Of course I do, dummy, let me sleep."
Spencer huffed in shock, his brows furrowing at your tone. You only spoke to him like that when you were mad or half asleep, so he couldn't really blame you. But your words ripped him open, as if he were stupid for having to ask.
He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, and you patted him for a moment before going completely limp. He kissed your arm, his breath shuddering as tears welled in his eyes.
Pulling away before he broke down completely, Spencer covered you up while he smothered the fire, then carried you upstairs. He settled with you on the bed, staring out the window as he sat against the headboard. You barely stirred as he maneuvered you to lay on his belly, and he played with your hair as he looked out into the darkness.
This was exactly what he didn't want to happen. This was so dangerous, and you had no idea. There were so many awful things in the world, and they all seemed to come back to Spencer.
Maeve's death. Prison. Being tortured by Benjamin Cyrus' cult. Explosions, drug addiction, bullets tearing through skin… and so much more. How could he let that anywhere near you when you not only trusted, but loved him.
You were so delicate, so young and small. A part of him knew you weren't nearly as naive as he convinced himself you were, but just in case… Spencer had to protect you at all costs.
This house was perfect for that. There were only two entrances, and he had hidden cameras on them that told him when someone approached on his phone. The house and the neighborhood were both gated, with a guard at the opening who only let in residents and pre-approved guests.
You worked from home, so you wouldn't come and go so much. When Spencer was here he could keep an eye on you and one on the outside world, he would keep you safe and happy in this home you were building together.
Scratch couldn't touch you here. Not if Spencer had anything to do about it. You wouldn't end up like Maeve, with your brains splattered across his shoes and blood staining his knees as he dropped to them on that damned rooftop. You wouldn't end up like Walker with a broken neck, or Gideon bleeding out all alone in a cabin, and Spencer wouldn't help carry your coffin.
You let out a particularly loud snore that made Spencer jump and gasp, his arms tightening around you. You growled at him for disturbing you like it wasn't your fault, and Spencer chuckled to himself as he brushed back your hair and gazed softly down at you.
How did something so loud and guttural come from someone so sweet and small? Spencer supposed it had something to do with how grumpy you were when you were tired compared to your bubbly happy self when you were awake.
Spencer found now he could hardly sleep if you weren't there to snore in his ear, but he never told you that you did so. He was pretty sure you didn't know, which he couldn't fathom. More often than not you woke yourself up with a loud snort, then told him to leave you alone even though he hadn't touched you.
But now he slid down the bed, making you sleep angry, to hold you to his chest once more. He kissed your forehead as you settled once more and whispered, "I love you, bunny."
You snored in reply, your little chest vibrating against him. Soon enough, you'd start drooling on him, but he didn't mind. Spencer welcomed it, in fact, because it was just another reminder that you were there with him.
---------------
After you got unpacked, things got a little weird.
Spencer was on you, all the time. It wasn't always sexual, although because he was who he was it tended to be, but he was always touching you. Whether it was pulling you into his lap or lifting you onto the counter just to bury his face in your neck and hug you tightly, he barely let your feet touch the ground.
You weren't sure what changed that night in front of the fireplace. At first you chalked it up to your first major holiday together as a couple, but now that Christmas was only a few days away that theory went out the window. As far as you'd been concerned it was a normal night of screwing and cuddling and then Spencer playing with you after, but he was different.
He was still him, but he was more protective. He looked out the windows a lot and always answered the door before you could. He didn't want to go out for dinner much anymore, instead insisting he accompany you to the grocery store and keeping his eyes on every person around and a hand on the back of your neck.
If you were walking in the house, he'd scoop you up and set you on his hip, depositing you wherever you were heading, making sure to place a kiss on your temple. He was more affectionate, not that he'd really held back before, but this was new.
You didn't know what the hell was going on.
You were standing in the kitchen, stirring a pot of noodles and staring absentmindedly on your phone. Instagram was incredibly boring, and you'd wanted to get out of the house tonight, but Spencer was supposed to be back soon from a case.
You were growing restless in the house with its big empty corridors and the creaking it always made when it settled. At least at the duplex you were close to shops and markets, but out here you had to wait for Spencer to go anywhere as you didn't have a car from years of city living.
There was something about this place that made you feel small, and with winter you couldn't even enjoy the patio or a garden. You were lonely and he was gone so often…
Tap!
A tap at the kitchen window got your attention, making your heart stop for a second as you looked up in shock. It was dark, windy and rainy, so you couldn't see anything.
Turning the pot to a simmer, you went toward the back door, leaving the bubbling behind. Barefoot, you padded over and flicked on the back lights, flooding the yard with white halogen.
Rain splattered the patio with its frozen strikes. Snow covered the grass and the concrete, half melted with the break of day and refrozen after the sun had set.
Tap tap!
You gasped as you heard it again from the window in front of the stove, but when you looked over there wasn't anything hitting it. Making sure the door was locked, you went back over and climbed up on the counter to look out the window better.
Nothing but the snow and the big oak tree in the middle of the yard. You looked off into where the darkness met the forest line, your back fence reflecting the porch light. Was there something out there? Kneeling by the big gnarled trunk…
Tap! Came from the back door this time, and your chest heaved as you jumped once more. You didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but something felt wrong. The hair on your arms stood on end and you were on edge, suddenly feeling so very not alone in this big house.
A shadow moved, reflecting in the window. You watched it in horror as it approached behind you, going stock still as you trembled like prey.
"Bunny?"
You shrieked embarrassingly, scrambling away from the voice and kicking the hot pot on the stove. You clutched your foot and whimpered, looking tearfully as your eyes latched onto Spencer.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, squinting and coming close.
He reached out to inspect your foot, but you grabbed his hands and put them around your waist to hold you instead. You collapsed in his arms, clinging to him as you sat on the counter.
"You, you scared me!" you cried, bursting into tears. Spencer stiffened for a moment in confusion, but then he scooped you up and set you on his hip to hold you.
"Bunny, what's wrong?" he asked softly, kissing your temple as you sobbed. "I didn't mean to, I swear."
"I thought someone was in the yard," you sniffled, and his head snapped up as his body coiled dangerously.
He set you on the floor and pointed to the walk in pantry, pulling his service weapon out of its holster. You watched him with wide eyes as he snapped his fingers and pointed again, "Go in there. I'm just going to check it out."
"Don't," you pleaded, but he just pushed at your chest with his free hand.
"It'll be fine. I'm sure there's nothing out there."
You did what you were told, closing the door behind you and blanketing you in darkness. There was no lock, so all you could do was lean against the cool plaster wall and wait. The bubbling of your burning pasta echoed behind the thin wood of the door as you sat in pained silence.
It felt like ages that he was gone, and when you heard the heavy back door creak open and shut, then lock, your breath caught in your chest. Heavy footsteps sounded on the wood floor, coming straight for you.
The handle turned, and light flooded the little closet as you held a hand over your eyes.
Spencer stood in the doorway, holstering his gun. He held out his hand for you and helped you up, immediately lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist.
"There's nothing there," he whispered, his big hand on the back of your head to hold you close.
You burst into relieved tears, and he just cradled you and rocked you. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. You just scared yourself."
There was a crinkling in his jacket you hadn't felt before, and you pulled back to peek inside his suit jacket. A manila envelope was tucked inside, and you looked up and frowned at him.
"It's for work," he smiled down at you, but you could see the worry in his eyes. "Crime scene photos and a file. I don't want you to look."
"I'm sorry," you sniffled, rubbing your cheeks in embarrassment. "I don't know how I got so worked up."
"It's okay, don't worry. I'm here, bunny."
Spencer carried you back to the kitchen and turned off the burner, using a hot pad to move the pot to a cool part of the stove. You shook in his arms, exhausted after your scare, but Spencer just rubbed your back as he took you upstairs.
"I didn't mean to ruin dinner…"
"Fuck dinner," he replied as you entered the bathroom. He set you on the counter and filled the tub, letting you clutch his fingers as he put bubble bath in and fluffed it up.
When it was ready, Spencer turned off the water and undressed you. With soft touches and gentle commands, he took off your clothes and then his, then carried you in the tub.
He massages your worries away, refusing to let you feel bad about dinner or getting upset. He washed your skin and made sure your hair didn't get wet, then took you to bed.
Whereas before you were worried about his clinginess and refusal to let you walk if he could help it, you were grateful that night. You spent all night plastered to his side, his big hands smoothing your fears and worries away.
He carried you back downstairs when your grumbling belly got too loud, made dinner while you sat on the counter and glared out the windows. He even fed you by hand, trapping your jaw with his fingers and making sure you were full.
Spencer kept you safe, telling not to worry, that he'd take care of you. He convinced you that you were okay, and you fell asleep in his arms and believed every word.
---------------
When you finally fell asleep, Spencer slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom to retrieve his suit jacket.
Pulling out the envelope, Spencer opened the little metal enclosure. He looked over his shoulder to where you lay, bathed in moonlight and snuggling a pillow in lieu of him. So small and vulnerable, naked and all alone in that big bed without him…
The snow had melted a bit on the manila, and when Spencer pulled the bundle of papers out of it it stuck to the inside. While you hid in the pantry, he'd already looked at them, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from doing it again.
They were pictures of you.
One was of you at the duplex, taken from the back yard as you cooked in the kitchen in a pair of leggings and one of his shirts. Your skin was a bit darker, and by the Halloween decorations Spencer knew that Scratch had known about you for a long time.
Another was of you and him hanging Christmas lights just a few weeks ago, with Spencer grinning like a fiend as you laughed below him. There were others of you through the windows, including one of you and Spencer drinking coffee at the bar in the kitchen.
He'd gotten an alarm on his phone just as he was pulling up in the driveway, that the lights had gone on in the backyard. He'd come quickly inside to check on you.
Then he saw you looking out the window, obviously terrified. He really hadn't expected anything to be outside in the blistering cold, but when he opened the back door the envelope sat on the patio table along with a note:
She's too pretty for you, Spencer. She'll look even better cutting her own heart out.
He'd signed it with a heart, the sick fuck.
Spencer dialed Luke and held the phone to his ear, watching you as it rang. He put the papers away and slipped them in his briefcase before standing in the doorway to keep an eye on you…just in case.
"What's up?" Luke asked as he picked up, but he sounded exhausted. "Bunny kick you out yet?"
It was in good humor, as Luke had told him he couldn't believe you even wanted to live with him after knowing him longer than two weeks, but Spencer wasn't in the mood.
"I need your help, Luke."
That got his attention, and Spencer heard him sit up as covers shifted around him, "What's going on?"
"Scratch found out about Bunny. He's been watching us."
Notes: Please tell me what you think! Do you think Spencer's reasons justify his actions to Bunny? Do you think Scratch will come for her?
wearing each others clothes | flufftober masterlist | @flufftober
one and the same | wm . nr
Dating two avengers meant there were days and nights where you spent them alone. Nights were harder but you generally could keep yourself distracted. Though, of course, you missed Wanda and Natasha whenever they were away on missions. Originally only Natasha was on a mission so the feelings of missing her were easier to shove away. Especially when you and Wanda were cuddled together on the couch, watching all of your favourite movies. If you ever got too worried about Natasha and couldn’t relax then, with your permission, Wanda would keep your thoughts away from all of the possible bad things you were thinking about.
That was until Wanda got a call and all you could remember was the guilt and sadness that spread across her face. Wanda always had a hard time when she had to leave you all alone in the apartment. Though you reassured her you would be fine, that this was all part of their jobs and you knew what you were getting yourself into when you began dating them.
While you had grown used to the erratic lifestyle, it didn’t mean that you didn’t miss them while they were gone. The apartment definitely felt too big with only you there. The first few days where they were gone, you managed to distract yourself and go about your everyday life as normal. You were running errands, going to work and seeing friends. Enough in the day to keep your mind from wandering too far away from your control. But the more days that went by meant the less you were able to take control and let some of your anxiety and worst thoughts take over. That was the only downside to dating two avengers, when they were on no contact missions with no actual estimate of the date when they would arrive back home to you.
The nights were the worst. The bed was cold and everything felt empty. The longer you stayed awake, the more you were waiting for that phone call from Steve. You knew your thoughts were slightly irrational and you knew there was only one way to get them to quieten down. You climbed out of bed and made your way to the closet, pulling out a small bag and emptying the contents. You smiled seeing Natasha’s favourite hoodie and a beanie that Wanda used to wear, that was until one of your dates before living together they took you to a carnival and you definitely didn’t wear suitable clothing for the chill of the night. You complained about being cold until Wanda took an extra hat out of her bag and put it on your head.
‘Detka are you…cold?’ Natasha smirked while she watched as you tried to get further into Wanda’s side as you could. You were all waiting for the fireworks and the atmosphere was definitely colder than you anticipated once the sun had set.
‘What? No way!’ You feigned disbelief, not wanting either of them to know the truth. You could imagine the smug looks and the way they would want to tell you that they were right. They told you to listen to them but you protested so much saying that you knew yourself better and that they had no idea what they were talking about.
‘Oh yeah? Then what’s this?’ Natasha gestured to the sight in front of her.
‘What? Can’t I cuddle into my girlfriend anymore? Am I not allowed to show my love?’ You emphasised on the dramatics making them both laugh, ‘Speaking of, Nat why don’t you just like bring yourself closer and just sandwich me between you both. Oh! Wandanat sandwich,’ Reaching out to try and bring Natasha closer to you both.
‘Detka,’ Wanda whispered in your ear, ‘Just admit it,’ You turned to her with your eyebrow raised, ‘You’re cold!’ Wanda laughed before she pulled away slightly, reaching into her bag. You tried to peer over her shoulder to see what she was doing but suddenly all you could see was darkness as she put something over your head.
‘Wands!’ You laughed when she pulled it up and you could see her again. The warmth from the hat and being between your two loves was all you needed for the chill air to disappear. You later learned that Wanda was prepared
‘Now isn’t that so much better,’
She knew you better than you knew yourself. They both did. They were both so perfect and you missed them more than you could ever describe. Quickly putting on the hoodie and beanie, you felt like a part of them would be with you, even if they were both far away from you. Now laying in bed you stared towards the picture of the three of you on your bedside table. Being covered in their clothing and having arranged your pillows, one either side of you with your arms wrapped around one, you closed your eyes and could imagine that they were with you. Their arms wrapped around your body, keeping you close, warm and safe. Soon enough you managed to fall into a deep sleep with a smile on your face along with a few tears since you wished it was real.
Natasha was feeling the same way. She always felt guilty about leaving, but then if she stayed with you and Wanda she would feel like she was letting everyone else down. There wasn’t a way where Natasha would ever win but knowing you still had Wanda with you definitely made things a bit easier for her. Though she didn’t know Wanda had to leave you as well. Natasha pulled out the photobooth strip she keeps with her, hiding it and keeping it safe. It helps get her through these long missions. Just seeing the goofy faces and big smiles from both you and Wanda never fails to put one on her own, ‘Not long now moya lyubov (my loves),’ She was on the jet making her way back to the compound and then she would be back in the arms of her loves.
Arriving at the compound Natasha groaned knowing she needed to do mission debriefings, but first she went and found her old room, which ended up being Natasha’s, Wanda’s until you asked them both to move into your apartment. Both Natasha and Wanda kept a few things in this room for emergencies. Like coming back from a long mission and wanting to freshen up before going home to you, so she could wrap you up in her arms and not waste any time.
Pulling out a drawer on her old dresser she found her most beloved items of clothing. Your hoodie and Wanda’s jacket, which was actually Natasha’s old jacket that Wanda found and ended up stealing for a while. Though she never got cold enough to warrant a hoodie and jacket combo, if it meant being close to the two of you and feeling some resemblance of home while she was away from home, then she would wear them both together.
After debriefings and reports Natasha was free to head home to her loves, walking down the compound hallways, stopping in her tracks when she heard her name, ‘Nat! Detka wait!’ Turning around Natasha came face-to-face with Wanda. Furrowing her eyebrows, she was confused to see Wanda here especially without you with her.
‘Wands? What are you doing here? Where’s Y/N?’ Natasha shot her a bunch of questions all at once, ‘And is that my jacket?’
‘I got called in for a mission, one that didn’t actually need me in the end,’ Wanda grumbled and shot a glare down the hallway towards where Steve would be, ‘Y/N should be at home, maybe asleep by now,’ Wanda checked her phone for the time, it was well past midnight.
‘That still doesn’t explain the jacket,’ Natasha smirked and raised her eyebrow.
‘Could say the same thing to you, nice choice in jacket,’ Wanda smirked back, fully taking in Natasha’s appearance.
‘Technically it is my jacket,’ Wanda rolled her eyes, shaking her head and stepped forward and embraced Natasha, pulling her in for a soft kiss.
‘I missed you Natty,’ Wanda deepened the kiss before Natasha pulled away.
‘Missed you too, detka,’ They stayed in each other's embrace, enjoying being close to one another. It always helped after missions, the touch of a loved one always keeping them grounded.
Natasha laid her head on Wanda’s chest while Wanda ran her fingers through Natasha’s hair, ‘Come on let’s get us home, have ourselves a Y/N sandwich,’
Natasha laughed gently, ‘As long as you keep doing this when we’re home,’ Looking up at Wanda with big, pleading eyes.
‘Whatever my princess wants, she gets,’
When they arrived home they weren’t surprised when they walked into a dark and silent apartment. It was well into the night and they both knew you loved your sleep so it would be a surprise if you were still awake when they walked through the front door. Wanda’s hand tightened in Natasha’s, not being able to see you straight away and make sure you were in fact still in the apartment and okay did make Wanda slightly nervous. But Natasha silently brought her back to reality and she could then sense you were still here.
Not wanting to waste any more time away from you they both were quick to your shared bedroom, where they saw you peacefully sleeping. Tucked in between two of your favourite pillows, pretending it was Natasha and Wanda, ‘Bed looks extra comfy right now,’ Natasha’s eyes were starting to drop and Wanda could feel how tired she was.
‘Why don’t you go cuddle with Y/N/N. Get all comfy and I’ll go get us some water ready for the morning,’ Wanda kissed Natasha’s forehead and moved her towards the bed.
The closer Natasha got to you, the more she smiled. She noticed how you were in both Wanda’s and her own clothing. Just like Natasha was in yours and Wanda’s and Wanda was in her own and yours. You all had the same idea, you all missed each other just as much. It was these moments that made everything worth it. That made coming back home exactly what she needed. Natasha never thought she would be capable of being loved and now here she is with not just one, but two people who love her without conditions.
She gave you a small kiss on the top of your head, not wanting to wake you. You looked too cute and peaceful and she wanted to see your surprised face in the morning when you woke up to them both. In your sleep you moved as close as you could to Natasha, finding more comfort in her warmth. Natasha rubbed your back and started closing her eyes before feeling the bed dip on the other side of you.
‘Seems like we all had the same idea,’ Wanda smiled peacefully. She was back home with her two loves, life couldn’t be any better than it was at this moment. Wanda cuddled up behind you, one arm draped over your waist and the other above your head resting on your pillow. Running her hands back through Natasha’s hair, just as she promised at the compound.
Right as they were both drifting off to join you in a peaceful slumber they heard a soft voice, ‘Natty? You’re home?’
‘I’m right here, detka,’ Natasha cupped your face as your eyes were fluttering, fighting to stay open, ‘Wands is home to, love,’ You didn’t need to move your head to see that she was there, you smiled as you felt her magic embrace your body.
‘I’m glad you boths are here and safe again,’ With them both surrounding you, their warmth and comfort, you felt like you were home again.
Summary: Spencer has an unforgettable encounter with the bookstore owner after hours.
Minors DNI/NSFW Content Warnings: Daddy Kink, penetrative sex without a condom, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, spitting kink, mention of Shibari
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader (She/Her) | SMUT 18+
Word Count: 3300
Note: This is my first time writing daddy kink so please don’t make fun of me (im being serious…) But I hope you enjoy this!
In The Middle Of The Night...
Cleaning up for a bookstore that found itself filled with people of all walks of life was surprisingly peaceful. She reshelved the stray books, returning them to their designated place and taking a couple moments to collect inventory for her next ordering day. Recently, teenagers are liking fantasy books about immortal vampires and the elderly couple that came in every Thursday favored travel books about South East Asia.
The Corner Book Shoppe, passed down from mother to daughter for the last four generations, was Y/N’s favorite place to be. Despite the sign on the door instructing customers that the store was closed for the night, a tall and ridiculously attractive man with shaggy brown hair knocked on the glass door.
“We’re closed.” Y/N told the man, taking in his disheveled handsome appearance. A once five-o’clock shadow, now well into stubble, dusted his face. His eyes looked tired, but there was something else hidden behind the way he gazed down at her. “You can come back tomorrow.”
The man smirked, leaning against the wooden door frame at the entrance. “What? You can’t make an exception for me?”
Her resolve, unsurprisingly, was melting. The man’s soulful brown eyes bore fire straight into her heart. He knew, somehow, just the way to look at her to make her completely weak in the knees. His eyes were like liquor and his body shimmering with a golden hue from the bookstore’s golden light.
“Make it quick.”
“I’m just here to come and go.” The man teased, the playfulness in his voice making her entire body flush under the spotlight of his glare. “Do you have any books on shibari? I really don’t like shopping at the chain bookstore. You really gotta keep little gems like these alive.”
“Shibari?” she asked, eyes daring to meet his observant gaze, “You mean like the–”
“Japanese bondage? Yeah.” He explained, following Y/N down through the stacks and stacks of books. She kept the second-hand books near the front, since she always did discounts on them throughout the week.
“I’m Y/N, by the way. I mean if I know you’re trying to get into shibari, I mean I should at least know your name.”
“Spencer. And I promise it’s for a work thing.”
“Do I even want to know what you do for work?” Y/N asked, looking back and meeting her eyes with the man’s. He chuckled, the rich, silky sound echoing in the tall stacks of books. The sound went straight through her, making her yearn for something that she didn’t even think she could want.
“It’s not for me,” The man explained, “It’s for my coworker. I don’t need the book to know the basics about shibari.”
“Is that so?” she asked, back now flush against the bookcase. An armchair was to her left and the vintage lamp casted dark shadows on Spencer’s golden face. He looked like he was preserved in time, his features tranquil and peaceful, yet smoldering with desire and passion. “You don’t look like the type to know much about that.”
“Is that so, sweetheart?” Spencer whispered, his hands hovered over her hip bones, waiting for her permission to touch her. His face dipped down, so his breath was hot against her neck, drawing her in with every chuckle and calculated smirk. “You don’t seem like the type either, but I have a feeling you’re quite the little minx.”
“Are you going to do anything about it?” She challenged, eyes finally daring to stare down Spencer’s eyes. The yellow light from the lamp lit their night cloaked encounter. Spencer’s lips floated above her’s, daring her to beg him for her. He leaned forward, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume on her skin, and pressed his lips lightly against her’s. Spencer’s feather light kisses only proved to increase her need for him to touch her.
“Come sit on my lap, sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, leaving a trail of wet, opened mouth kisses along her neck and jawline. Y/N could feel him smirk against her skin as she groaned at his words. Her hands knotted his hair, listening to him as he guided them to the armchair.
Settled in the chair, Spencer’s fingers ghosted against her neck before they caught on the glittering gold necklace that rested against her collarbone. He pulled the necklace forward, marveling at her whimper as her body fell towards him. His lips slotted against hers again, capturing her in yet another searing kiss. Y/N melted into the kiss, losing herself in the way Spencer’s hands crawled up her back, claiming the expanse of her skin for his and his alone.
“That’s a good girl.” Spencer hummed into her ear, “One kiss and you’re a good little girl for me. So pilant. So perfect.”
She whined into Spencer’s neck, leaving kisses and marks of her own making against his flushed skin. His stubble was rough against her smooth skin, making her feel more raw and vulnerable under his already blistering gaze. His hands spread out across her neck, fingertips leaving heat-soaked touches that were followed by open mouthed kisses. She could feel his breath in her ear, counting the times his chest rose, forcing their two bodies to arch closer than before.
“Daddy please,” she whimpered, her hands forming fists around the fabric of Spencer's shirt. She could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, beckoning her toward him like a light at the end of a dark and deep tunnel. She wrinkled his shirt, secretly like the way his appearance grew more and more disheveled as time unfolded.
“Daddy, huh,” Spencer whispered. His voice was charismatic, an aphrodisiac that threatened to make her head spin around and around again. Spencer’s lips melted the walls she put up, breaking them down in one kiss to her temple. His lips are like fire, like molten lava that drips down the curve of her lip, over the slope of her neck, and the sharpness of her collarbone. He’s everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Yeah,” she confirmed, a shyness patablable in her timid tone. It was like every nerve in her body was lit on fire. She felt it build and build like an orchestra’s crescendo in her belly as Spencer’s nimble fingers twisted around her hips and ventured lower and lower to her thighs.
Spencer’s hands slapped against her legs lightly, silently instructing her to stand. On wobbly legs, she followed his directions, earning a sly, yet devilishly charming smirk. His hands worked her jean’s button fly, undoing them and dragging them to her ankles. Spencer’s eyes ranked over her legs, scanning and taking in the bareness of her soft skin. He trailed a single finger from her ankle. It was like her spine was electrified, watching his long, most-definitely skilled finger travel up her kneecaps, her thighs and wrap around, deliciously, her waistband.
“Already soaked for me,” Spencer tutted, his tongue peaking out from in between his teeth. An air of confidence radiated off him as he tugged off her underwear. “Let’s see how pretty you look sitting on my cock,”
She bit her lip, a cautionary measure to prevent herself from sounding as desperate as her mind and body felt. Spencer’s hands, warm and large, gripped the fleshy part of her hips, hauling her back towards his lap. He had already undid his pants, his belt lying forgotten at his side. Hungry, Spencer licked his lips, pink tongue jutting out again as a sinful promise of what was to come. He winked and it was like they had a secret world together with words and languages and colors they couldn’t hear or see without anyone else.
“Please hurry, daddy,” she whimpered, the crude name sounding playful and teasing from her mouth. He pressed kisses against her soft stomach, face and hands hidden under her tee-shirt. She took it off, revealing his messy hair even more disheveled from the fabric of her shirt.
“Good girls are patient,” Spencer reminded her, “Are you going to be a good girl for me? Or am I going to have to make you be a good girl for me?” he asked, not really giving her a choice in the matter. Her heart rose to her throat and butterflies took home in her belly as Spencer’s hands guided her to his lap again. She felt him against her thighs, hard and warm, desiring her like no one else ever had and perhaps ever will.
“I’m gonna be a good girl, daddy,” she promised, sin dripping from her lips as she took his face in between her hands and kissed his temples.
“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you.” Spencer gathered, his hands wrapping around her waist, finally bringing their two bodies together in a motion that was too godly to be considered a sin. Him touching her was like reaching Heaven itself. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne. “That’s it, pretty girl. Fuck youself on my cock.”
Her heart skipped a beat as his dirty words contrasted the soft pecks he placed at the base of her throat.
“You’re driving me crazy,” Y/N complained, the slight whine in her voice making Spencer dig his fingers so deep into her skin he’s bound to leave bruises, “so fucking crazy.” She cursed, leaning into kiss Spencer, already craving the pressure of his mouth against her mouth.
“Language.” Spencer corrected, confidence and certainty coloring his beautiful face. “Or am I going to have to punish you for being a wanton little slut?”
“No, no, please I’ll be a good girl, I’ll be a good girl for you, daddy.” Y/N said, the desperation in her voice hung tense in the air between them.
“I know you will, sweet girl. You make me very happy seeing you bounce on my cock like a cute little bunny.”
He stroked her cheek with the back of his right hand, the left hand slid between where they bodies met, finally giving into the fiery desire that drove her to the edge of desperation. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed, finding intimacy and safety in the small gesture. She groaned at the feeling of Spencer’s long fingers casting shockwaves of pleasure and tilted her head to place kisses against the palm of his hand.
“See? Now that’s a good girl. So soft and good for me.” Spencer praised. His eyebrow raised cockily as he slid himself into her without a second thought. “What a slut, letting me fuck you without a condom. I’m sure you like this, you filthy cumslut. Getting me to fill you up,”
His words made her face flush as she continued her momentum. Y/N looked down, taken aback at the sordid site before her. Spencer caught on, snaking his hand around the base of her throat forcing her to watch every time he disappeared inside her.
“You-you’re so deep.” She moaned. She tried to come up with something else to say, but from the way Spencer’s hands dictated her movements and his words left bruising thumbprints against her mind, she was a puddle lacking any form of resolve. “You fill me up so good, so full.”
She felt the familiar feeling of warmth and impatience build inside her body, threatening to release untamed and relentless. Spencer's thumb and index finger circled her clit, bringing her closer and closer to release. His hand gripped her jaw, forcing her face to morph into a look of bewilderment.
“Come on pretty girl, let daddy see your tongue.” He requested, chuckling darkly as she compiled without hesitation. “So fucking greedy.” He added, mostly to himself as their eyes met in the dimly lit backroom.
Y/N groaned shamelessly as she watched the string of saliva leave Spencer’s mouth and land on her waiting tongue. Spencer took advantage of her moment of deep desire, pressing wet, open mouth kisses to her espoused throat. She could feel his hot mouth and sharp teeth suck and scrap against her pulse points. His ministrations made her yelp with pleasure, which, in turn earned a confident smirk from Spencer.
“That feels good doesn't it, sweet thing?” Spencer tutted, “You ready to come on my cock? Hmm..”
The world, their little world filled with antique lamps that casted a warm yellow light and used books from floor to ceiling, grew fussy around the edges as Spencer’s hands and tongue and lips and just about everything about him drove her completely mad. She felt her release come, she felt the high build and build until her legs felt like uncaptured Jello and her throat raw from holding in the noises she stifled.
“That’s it. That’s how a good girl comes fucking herself silly on my cock.” Spencer said, his voice raspier than before, a hint that he too was reaching his climax. She took it upon herself to help Spencer reach that high faster than he may have anticipated. Holding him by the waist, Y/N planted kisses along Spencer’s jawbone, revealing how his blush matched the pink lipstick that rubbed off on his face. His eyes were heavy with pleasure and his breathy moans threatened to make her beg for another orgasm, even if she knew he’d split her in half if she asked.
“You’re so….you fill me up so good, daddy.” She encouraged her sweet, saccharine voice pushing Spencer further and further to his release. “Daddy fucks me so well, he’s going to make me a mommy.”
“You’re a little minx, you know that right?” Spencer smirked, his thrusts completely calculated as Y/N returned the cocky look. “So fucking greedy for me to come into my pussy. You’ll say anything to get your way.”
“Don’t you want to see my pussy dripping with your cum?” Y/N asked, her skin unbearably hot and sweaty pressed up against Spencer’s torso. His hands pawed at her breasts, exploring the softness of her body with the tenderness of a devout man. “Don’t you want to fuck it back into me, making sure there’s not a drop leftover?”
Stunned into silence, Spencer’s mouth hung open much to Y/N’s enjoyment. He let out a guttural groan as she continued to bounce up and down on his cock, clearly chasing another orgasm. Spencer looked up grinning like the devil, a sign to Y/N that he wasn’t going to take it easy on her. He held himself deep inside her, casting circles around and around her clit. She bit her lip, attempting to contain her pleasure.
“If you’re going to act like a greedy fucking whore, I’m goint to treat you like a greedy fucking whore. You can give me one more, can’t you?”
She knew it was impossible, she knew it was a little fantastical to think so, but it was like time, for a moment simply stopped. All she felt was the burn of her exhausted muscles, Spencer’s soft, yet strong thighs against her skin, his hands burrowing so deep into her hip she thought he might just disappear all together. He kissed. Once. Twice. Thrice. Many times. So many times that she lost count.
Y/N held her breath, observing with reverence as the tension built till it could no longer handle the inevitable crash. Spencer’s hair, unruly and sweaty, stuck to his forehead. With a moan half crazed with desire half laden with arousal is like an electric shock to her entire system. She whispers words that she knew would make him swat at her ass if he wasn’t carried away by pleasure and bliss.
“That’s it, daddy. Filling me up so good.”
Spencer placed his hand on her lower stomach as if he could feel himself through her. His calloused thumbs drew stars against her skin, marking the vulnerable spots of her body as something beautiful, something deserving of tenderness.
“Fucking hell–”
Her breath hitched in her throat, caught off when she felt the warmth spreading between their bodies. It was like gentle waves from the ocean that lapped the soft sand. Y/N’s body slumped forward against Spencer. Exhaustion flooded her limbs, making them feel numb. Spencer’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest as they laid in the chair together, a pile of twisted limbs and muscles fated to be sore by morning.
“You alright?” Spencer asked, “Let me help you clean up. You put washcloths in the bathroom last week, right?”
“Yeah.” Y/N mumbled, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath that ricocheted off her lips to Spencer’s heart. “I just wanna cuddle my husband for a minute before he’s off cleaning up a mess. But I know. Germs. Even if they’re my germs.”
“You know me too well.” Spencer deadpanned. The silence filling up the room in a way that said more than words ever could attempt to.
He helped Y/N to her feet, biting his lips with worry as she winced when she stood. His worry continued as he guided her to the chair he sat at moments before.
“Right back.” Spencer said, kissing the top of her head as he adjusted his pants and scooped up her clothes.
He disappeared into the tiny bathroom and Y/N knew him well enough to read the nervousness in his gait. She decided to fix her hair, thinking that she probably looked like she’d be through the ringer, which of course was Spencer’s doing. Even if she enjoyed their more salacious encounters, she knew they usually ended with Spencer dealing with feelings of guilt and worry.
“And you called me a nerd for bringing PJs to change into.” He walked out from the bathroom, carrying two piles of pajamas in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other.
“No, my sweet husband. I called you an old man for bringing PJs and a nerd for wanting roleplay by lecturing me about quantum physics.”
Spencer’s tight-lipped smile broke out into something so goofy and charming, it was hard for Y/N to remain composure. She grabbed Spencer’s hand as he cleaned her inner thighs, bringing his palm to rest against her cheek.
“I love you.”
Spencer kissed her once on the middle of her forehead. Two times on each cheek. And then three times on her lips.
“You’re not a cockslut. Or whatever I called. I–I’m sorry if I got carried away. It’s just. I’m still exploring that part of myself. And with what I see at–”
“Spencer.” Y/N interjected, wincing because she could hardly remember a time when she interrupted him. She knew he hated that. “Listen to me when I say: I really liked it. I was so into it. It’s hot seeing this side of you. Everyone else gets Dr. Reid the agent. Or Spencer the sweet nerd with sweater vests. But, somehow, I get all the sides of you.”
Spencer nodded, taking in the silence that hung in the air.
“Besides,” she whispered, getting closer to Spencer though they were the only two people in the store at that hour, “I am a cockslut. Your cockslut.”
Spencer’s lips twitched into an unwilling smile, “Y/N.” He sounded half distressed, half aroused.
And she decided that keeping him on his toes in more than one way was exactly what she wanted for their marriage.
Warnings: Extremely dubious consent, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, toxic relationship behavior, crying, yelling, sex as an apology, cunnilingus, tie restraints,
Summary: Spencer promises to make some changes. When Spencer loses his temper following some aggressive behavior, he makes it up to you in the only way he knows how... and makes some more promises. Will he keep them?
You woke up with Spencer on top of you.
Surprisingly, it wasn't sexual. Instead, his heavy frame was draped over you as he snored loudly in your ear. You smiled to yourself and tangled your fingers in his hair, earning a happy groan as he settled deeper into you. You trailed your other hand up and down his back, leaving lines with your finger tips. Spencer nuzzled into your hair and sighed, his morning wood pressing insistently against your hip.
You couldn't fathom how he got the energy to be ready to screw at any moment. He always seemed so tired with those dark circles under his eyes, and every time his phone rang to call him back to work his shoulders sagged just a bit more.
You hoped what Luke said was true… that he was less agitated after he saw you. You were happy to do that for him.
As hesitant as you'd been to do a threesome with someone you didn't know, you were glad you'd done it. You liked Luke, and he was such a fantastic kisser. You hadn't realized how much you missed kissing until he'd given you one.
You still wished Spencer liked kissing, but he didn't, or at least he didn't want to kiss. For some reason it brought you a bit of peace knowing for a fact now that he didn't kiss anyone else…and that you and Luke were his only repeat partners.
Maybe he really did like you a lot, maybe you did bring Spencer a peace of his own just by letting him in your bed.
You felt Spencer's chest grumble before he even spoke, his lips pressing softly against your neck. He sighed happily and whispered, "Good morning, bunny."
"Good morning," you chuckled back. When you kissed the top of his head he got up on his elbows to look at you.
His hazels shone in the morning light as sun poured through the windows, gentle and sweet as he watched you. Brushing back his hair you smiled at him, and the smile he returned almost made your heart burst in your chest.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sore," you laughed lightly, "I feel like I went ten rounds last night."
"I'm sorry," Spencer told you, making you still. It was so soft and genuine, and he'd never apologized for sleeping with you.
"Why?"
Spencer sighed, "I shouldn't have pushed you so soon. I don't want to scare you away."
A surprised laugh bubbled from your chest, and his brows furrowed together. He moved to pull away but you gripped his shoulders and held him firm.
"Spencer, all you do is push me," you told him, and he looked away in shame. You cupped his jaw to make him look at you, and his worried gaze locked onto yours, "I like exploring with you… I trust you to keep me safe. I know you'd never hurt me."
"Oh, sweet girl," Spencer breathed quietly, so full of emotion your heart swelled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, and you sighed and closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling.
His lips pressed insistently into your skin, leaving tingling warmth in their wake. You relaxed into the pillows as he lavished you with kisses, moaning quietly with each one. When his lips brushed yours, you gasped and your eyes flew open, and Spencer rested his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose close and groaning.
Your legs spread on instinct, thighs wrapping around his waist and trapping his hard cock against your achingly sore and tired pussy.
You could see the pained way he held himself, struggling with something within. Too soon, Spencer pulled himself from your arms and tangled legs and got up from the bed. You whined pathetically and reached out for him, but he just leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead.
"Not today," he said quietly, and suddenly you were being lifted and set on his hip. You grunted as your bruised skin and tight muscles were forced to move, but Spencer just carried you into the bathroom and set you on the counter. When he moved to the bathtub and turned it on, you bit your lip and swung your legs, watching him pour in bubbles and fluff them in the water.
"I can take it, daddy," you insisted, and he looked at you over his shoulder.
His gaze trailed over your naked and bruised form for a long moment before he shook his head and focused back on the tub, "No."
You pouted, letting out a little grumble, "But it's the only reason that you stay."
Spencer snapped off the tub and shot you a squint. He got up and went over to where you sat on the counter, caging you in with his arms as he set his hands on the edge on either side of you. The warmth from his skin washed over you, bleeding into the fake marble, his eyes burning a hole through you.
"Is that really what you think?" Spencer whispered. His voice had a trembling fear to it, one you'd never heard, and it frightened you.
You shrugged and looked away, "Sex is the only reason you ever visit me."
You were staring at your hands, desperately trying to will your jaw to stop it's wobbling as tears threatened to form. When Spencer reached up and tugged on you to meet his eye, they started to fall, and he wiped them away with his thumbs.
"Y/N, listen to me," he murmured, but there was a begging to it, like he needed you to hear it. "I come here because I like being with you. I want to take care of you, to keep you safe."
You said nothing, just watched him with confusion. He was rarely so gentle with you unless he was emptied and satisfied, and you didn't understand.
"I'm sorry if you really think that. It's not what I want.” Spencer rubbed your cheekbones with his thumbs, gently massaging your blushed and damp skin. He clicked his teeth and sighed, “I’ve never been very good at relationships. The only way I know how to express myself is with sex, and that’s never going to be enough for me when it comes to you. I want all of you, not just what you can give me in bed.”
You frowned, your heart beating wildly in your chest at his words, “But this isn’t a relationship. This isn’t what a relationship is, Spencer.”
Spencer flinched, but he didn’t pull away. He pushed at his bottom lip with his tongue as he thought, and you could nearly see the gears turning in his mind as you waited with bated breath. After a long moment, he kissed the tip of your nose, pressing his lips to your skin as if he could melt into you.
Picking you up, Spencer carried you into the tub. The water was hot around your aching body, and even though it felt good, you laid stiffly against him while he held you to his chest with your back to him. His strong hands rubbed your shoulders and your back, as though he wanted to force your relaxation, but it didn’t seem to want to come. You felt his lips press to the back of your tangled hair, his wet chest sliding against your back as his arms snaked around to pull you tightly to him.
“I don’t give you enough, do I, bunny?” he asked quietly, his breath hot against your ear. You trembled despite the heat steaming the mirrors in your small bathroom, and he groaned quietly to himself and held you firmer. “I take what I want and I don’t give you what you need.”
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, even though you didn’t believe that. It wasn’t okay, the way he treated you. He left you empty when he rose from your bed and got dressed, each time he walked out the door you felt more alone than when he was with you. But for some reason… you always let him.
“I’ll be better,” he promised, but you didn’t want to believe him. You were already falling for him, probably already had fallen for him, and he had so much more power over you than he seemed to realize. “I’m still learning. I’m gonna take care of you, bunny. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You always say that,” you said, and you felt him push his forehead against the back of your hair. “I don’t know anyone that wants to hurt me.”
“There’s all sorts of people in the world that want to hurt others,” he said back, “I see it every day at work. I’ve lost people because of it, but I won’t lose you too.”
“I’m right here.” Something about the way he spoke told you that you were being naive, but you wanted to comfort him. You settled into his body around yours and held onto his forearms as he sniffled behind you.
You could have sworn he was crying, but he probably didn't want you to see it. You just rubbed his arms softly until he settled, doing your best to make him feel better.
---------------
Things were different after that.
Spencer came over nearly every day, and if he was out of town he called you each night and stayed on the line until you fell asleep. When he came back he lavished you with gifts and even started taking you out to dinner, showing you off in the new dresses and clothes he bought even though you protested them.
You still had sex, nasty downright filthy sex, but it wasn’t the only thing you did together anymore. Spencer stayed the night more often than he didn’t, and you grew used to waking up to his body holding yours down, staining your sheets with his scent and your body with his kisses.
Some nights he woke you up to let you know he was there, riling you up and sliding inside like you were made to take him, but he wasn’t nearly as rough as he used to be. There were still times you were covered with bruises and teeth marks, and you loved it, but as time went on Spencer often rocked you into the mattress with sweet words and gentle hands.
He spent a lot of time learning about you and your interests, and you could almost see how he cataloged it to pull it out later. He took the information you gave him to get you things you liked, and you always told him not to buy you gifts as he insisted on paying your rent, but he never listened. Spencer told you few things about himself besides his interests, and that he visited his mother once a week, but he kept most of work to himself.
He was possessive, and it became increasingly clear how much so the more you went out with him. In public, Spencer tended to keep a firm hand on the small of your back or the back of your neck, keeping one eye on the men in the room and another on the entrances and exits. You knew his job made him protective, and the more you learned about his work with the FBI you supposed you understood why.
He hunted dangerous people, and he knew what could happen to girls who didn’t have anyone around to protect them. That’s what he told you time and time again, that he wanted to keep you safe, to protect you from the world outside the walls of your apartment.
You’d been extending your lease month to month, and before you knew it six months had gone by since you started sleeping with Spencer. Summer had turned to fall and then winter, and suddenly December was upon you. It had been months since your threesome with Luke, months since you’d had someone hold your jaw and kiss the life out of you.
Spencer still didn’t kiss you. You were trying really hard not to notice or mind, but… you missed it.
You were sitting in your living room, lounging on the couch and watching television. It was Sunday, and Spencer was visiting his mother. He'd been gone all week, so you hadn't seen him but the times you'd talked on the phone he was exhausted and worried about you.
He tended to get like that the longer he was gone, asking multiple times if you'd locked the doors and windows. You'd given him a key long ago so he usually came through the front door and not the back anymore.
The turning of the handle got your attention, and you sat up straight to grin at him as he came inside. Spencer glared at you as he spotted you on the couch, kicking the door shut behind him and pointedly locking it.
"What did I tell you about locking the door?" he snapped as he dropped his bag on the kitchen floor, stomping over to you.
Heat rushed to your cheeks as he loomed above you, so much larger and stronger than you could hope to be. You wrung your hands in your lap and pouted up at him, "I'm sorry, I forgot."
Suddenly his hands were on you, gripping your shoulders and shaking you as he got in your face. "You forgot!?"
His nose nearly touched yours as his face turned red, and you went stock still as he shook you again, "You can't just forget, Y/N! You don't know what's out there, you have to lock the door!"
"I'm sorry!" You burst into tears before you could say anything else, his fierce anger too much after a week without him in mostly quiet, "I'm, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Spencer softened, and then he was kneeling before the couch and holding you to his chest. His fingers threaded into your hair, his other hand smoothing firm lines up and down your back.
"No, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he hushed as you blubbered against him. His sudden shifts in demeanor always shocked you, but by now you should have seen them coming. He'd always been unpredictable, and lately you could hardly get a good read on him.
"I had a bad case," he murmured against your ear. His warmth helped calm you down as he spoke softly to you, "I just… I can't protect you when I'm gone. I need you to keep yourself safe when I can't."
You hiccupped into his chest, covering your face with your hands as you tried to quell your tears. Spencer rocked you back and forth and whispered, "I'm sorry, bunny, I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'm sorry, okay?"
"Okay," you sniffled, but you didn't say anything else.
Spencer pulled back enough to look at you, and you peeked through your hands, expecting anger once more, but he was watching you softly.
"Can I make it up to you, bunny?"
You shook your head, "No, I'm okay. You scared me."
Spencer got down on his knees and put himself between your legs. You were obeying his rule, only wearing one of his sweaters and nothing else. He ran his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing you lightly.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to one of your knees, then the other. His voice was husky and regretful as he said, "Let me make it up to you, please."
You shook your head again, not wanting him to feel guilty. He'd told you time and time again to lock the doors. All he wanted was for you to be safe and you couldn't seem to do something as simple as that.
"C'mon, bunny," he implored, moving his lips further up your thighs, pressing apologies into your skin. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you."
Your legs spread on instinct as he nuzzled between them, but your chin still trembled as you couldn't seem to stop the guilty tears that kept forming in your eyes. Spencer looked up at you from his spot on his knees, so painfully sorry you felt bad for being upset.
"I'm sorry," you cried, covering your face with your hands once more. He rarely yelled at you. When he was angry he usually spoke firm but never raised his voice, and when he did it always sent your system into a shock.
Spencer scooped you up and set you on his hip as you sobbed into his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes before sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, clutching you tightly.
"I should have listened, I'm sorry," you whimpered, but Spencer just shook his head and kept rubbing your back as he usually did when you cried.
"You'll do better next time, won't you?" Spencer asked quietly, but it was more of a command. "You listen when I tell you things and everything will be okay, bunny."
"Okay," you agreed, and finally you pulled yourself up enough to look at him.
Spencer smiled and brushed back some of your hair, "You know why, don't you, sweet girl?"
"Because you know what's best for me," you said sweetly, "you take care of what you own, like a good daddy."
"And I own you, don't I, bunny?"
You nodded, "Yes, daddy."
Spencer laughed as he bumped your chin with his knuckles, "You're such a sweet girl. I just want to keep you safe."
You smoothed your hands over his chest before tugging on his tie. As it came undone, you leaned in to kiss his neck, licking his skin before you moved on to the spot behind his ears that nearly made him kick his leg like a dog.
"I know, daddy. You just want to take care of me," you whispered hotly in his ear, and to your delight he shivered and let out a surprised groan.
When you slipped his tie from the collar, Spencer took it and shoved you down on the bed. Without a word, he slipped the fabric through the slats of the headboard that he bought you because he grew frustrated with under the mattress restraints. You put your hands above your head automatically, and after pulling the sweater off, he quickly knotted them together with the purple slip of material.
Forcing his way between your thighs, Spencer sat on his knees and unbuttoned his shirt before throwing it off the bed, revealing his soft fuzzy chest. You wanted to reach out and touch him, frowning as you tugged on the tie.
"Calm down," he soothed, rubbing a soft hand over your belly. "I need to show you how sorry I am, bunny."
"I should have listened," you insisted, but he shook his head as he leaned over you to lick a hot stripe from your belly button to your sternum. It left a cool trail in its wake, and your body arched to keep as much contact with him as you could.
"I'm sorry I scared you," he murmured into your skin, laving his perfect tongue around one of your breasts. When his mouth closed around the bud and the hot flick of his tongue hit you, you let out a moan and relaxed into the mattress.
"I'm sorry I yelled," he whispered before moving on to the other one, this time suckling and rolling you between his teeth.
Your sex dripped between your legs, trapped underneath his clothed hardening length. Even though you wanted to wrap yourself around him, you let your thighs hang open as you knew where he was going next.
"I need you so much, bunny," Spencer said as he pulled himself off you, covering your body with his and brushing back your hair. He gazed longingly into your eyes before pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, "The very thought that anything could happen to you… it tears me up inside."
"I'm safe with you," you mewled back, and his eyes turned watery and sad.
"I'm not always here," he said firmly. "I need to know you're going to be okay when I'm not around."
You hated how scared he seemed to be, and the closer you got, the more frightened Spencer became. You longed to touch him, to reach out and prove to him that you were safe, that everything was okay. His mind was playing tricks on him, telling him you were in danger, but he'd never tell you what that was.
"Losing you would kill me," Spencer breathed as he watched you. Your heart broke for him, so you nuzzled your nose with his.
"I'm right here, Spencer," you whispered. "I'm right here."
Spencer softly smiled, but in a way that told you he knew far more than you ever could, "I know. I'm going to keep it that way."
Before you could reply he hopped off the bed and got rid of his pants and underwear, then climbed back to settle between your legs. Kissing the apex of your thighs, he nosed your slit and breathed you in.
"Say you forgive me, bunny," he murmured. Nuzzling your clit gently, he watched you with wide apologetic eyes, "Please, sweet girl, I'm so sorry. Let me prove it."
"I forgive you," you told him with a smile, watching him with your biceps pressed against your head. The tie dug into your wrists, and you knew you'd have bruises tomorrow. You couldn't wait.
Spencer flashed you a devilish smirk, but unlike most times when he ate you out he started gently this time. He licked kittenlike stripes along your exposed pussy, toying with you until you whined and pushed yourself closer to his face.
"Hmmm!" you groaned in frustration, and you felt his chuckle against your lips.
When his tongue slipped inside you let out a sigh of relief, and Spencer wasted no time. Steadily, he fucked you with his tongue, opening you up and stretching you. The hot muscle lulled you to complacency, wet and warm and safe.
Spencer quickly replaced his tongue with two fingers, slipping them inside with ease. A cry burst from your chest when he latched onto your clit, suckling and flicking and driving you crazy. Your legs hung open uselessly as he drove into you time and time again, the sheets drenched underneath.
Spencer's groans reverberated through your cunt, and you moaned in tune with him as he scissored you. He drank you like nectar, like you were the only thing sustaining him. Your cheeks bloomed with heat and stained your biceps where they pressed against your face as you tugged on the restraints, your orgasm coming so much faster than you wanted it to.
Pulling out of you suddenly, Spencer crawled above you, kissing away your whines of annoyance. "Don't worry, bunny, daddy's right here."
"I need you," you whimpered, but he just chuckled.
"I know, I know," he murmured, lining his cock up with your soaking hole.
His arms shook as he pressed inside, setting his forehead against yours. You breathed in one another's gasps, his lips so so close, but you let him do what he wanted. It was his apology.
Your walls quaked with each slow, small thrust, Spencer drawing out his own pleasure to stretch you gently and take his time. The wet sounds of your pussy sucking him back in made your jaw drop, and you watched him in blissed agony while he bottomed out.
Spencer rested his weight on top of you, warming his cock as he kissed your face. Dragging his lips down your cheek and to your neck, he groaned into your ear, "You have no idea what you do to me, bunny…"
Pulling out achingly slow, Spencer grazed his teeth along your jugular. When you moaned and closed your eyes he chuckled, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, sweet girl. You make me so happy, I just can't handle the thought of you not being here one day."
"I am?" you asked, opening your eyes slowly and blinking in confusion. "I do?"
He nodded as he pushed back in, watching every small gasp and whine that escaped you as he slowly rocked you into the bed. As he usually did when he wanted you to feel cared for, Spencer kissed the tip of your nose and nuzzled close, thrusting into you so sweetly and gently the sensation threatened to swallow you whole.
"I can't breathe when you're not around," he whispered, moving to kiss the side of your nose and then the other. You clung tightly to the tie around your wrists as your head swam with fuzzy white light, your real consciousness long gone with the way he always seemed to make you malfunction.
"I'm better with you, I'm stronger," Spencer insisted, watching you carefully so you listened even in your subspace. His thick length split you open, holding you wide just for him as he fucked you like you were the most precious thing in the world. "You're mine, and I'm yours."
When he bumped your nose with his, you gasped. His admission shocked you. He'd only ever said he owned you, that you belonged to him. Never had he allowed you to think for one moment that you had him the same way.
Your walls swelled, wet and twitching around him as your orgasm came without warning. Spencer picked up his pace but still stayed gentle, drawing this out, saying sorry with his body and letting yours lead him to your pleasure.
When the wave crested and you cried out, Spencer pressed his forehead against yours, his jaw dropping as he felt you cum around him, reveling in the feeling. He grunted as he fucked you through it, letting you moan and shake and take what you needed from him.
As it faded away and the world turned hazy, Spencer slowed once more, watching you come back to him. He smiled at you, and you smiled shakily back.
"Hey bunny," he murmured, brushing back your hair.
"Hey," you whispered in return, blinking blearily up at him.
The heat that had coursed through you was gone with your ecstacy, and you shivered into the mattress as Spencer came to a stop. He reached above you and untied your wrists, then tugged at the blankets to cover you both up. Resting his weight on top of you, Spencer cuddled into your neck and held you close.
You stretched your hands out a bit to relieve the ache, then threaded your fingers through his hair. He moaned softly and sighed against you, his hot cock still throbbing inside you.
"You need to finish, daddy," you mumbled into his messy locks, then pressed your lips to the side of his head. "Let me help you."
"Mmh hmm," he grumbled, shaking his head even though his face was pressed firmly into your skin.
"You won't even have to move," you insisted. "Just lay on your back and let me take care of you."
Spencer sighed and pulled himself from your shoulder, settling on his elbows and smiling at you, "Move in with me."
Your hands stilled in his hair, your eyes going wide. He looked so nervous, biting on his lip and watching you with those hazel eyes.
"W-what?" you asked quietly. You couldn't believe your ears.
"Move. In. With. Me," Spencer annunciated, almost commanding. "Stay with me forever."
He was still inside you, so you couldn't pull away, but his request frightened you. You pushed at Spencer's chest until he got off you and rolled to sit next to you under the covers. He lounged against the headboard while you pulled your knees up to your chest, staring at the far wall as a horrible realization hit you.
"I can't," you said quietly, and you saw his shoulders deflate out of the corner of your eye. You turned to face him, and he was full of so much hurt, sitting here naked and vulnerable with you in bed, but… you couldn't.
"Spencer, I can't commit to you like that," you whispered apologetically.
"Why?" he asked, his voice cracked and his eyes watery. You wanted to hold him, but you had to focus on holding yourself together.
"Because you can't commit to me," you told him, hurt that he couldn't see that. "You sleep with other people and do whatever you want and that's fine. You have these rules for me, and I can deal with them in the short term to have these experiences with you but…"
A tear fell from your eye and dripped down your cheek as you cocked your head at him, dreading that this might be your last moment with him.
"I can't live like this forever. I won't be the thing you come home to after sharing yourself with someone else," you whispered tearfully. "I want and I deserve more than that. I won't spend my life with someone who won't spend theirs with me."
Spencer nodded to himself, bringing his knees up and setting his elbows on them. He thought for a long moment before he took one of your hands and held them in his own. Looking deep in your eyes, he said firmly, "Then you're the only one I'm going to be with. "
You pulled back, unexpecting that from him. He told you time and time again that he needed the release to take things out on others so he could be gentle with you, but you couldn't handle that if you were really going to let yourself be with him.
"It'll just be me and you unless we decide to play with someone else," he promised, tugging on your hands until you were sitting on his lap and straddling him. His eyes were rimmed with tears as he kissed the back of your knuckles, "I need you, bunny. I'll do anything to keep you."
"But do you want me?" you asked, your voice trembling with fear and so much love for this man. "Do you want… a life, and a future, kids? With me?"
"I do," he said, and he pressed his lips to your hand once more. "I want all of that, and I want it with you."
"Why now?"
Spencer frowned, pulling your hand up to cup his cheek, "I'm not as scared as I used to be. You changed everything for me, bunny."
You pulled your hands from him to wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer hugged you tight, burying his nose into your hair and breathing you in. A thought came across your mind, and you started giggling into his shoulder.
“What could you possibly be laughing about right now? I’m pouring my heart out here,” he chuckled, but he didn’t let you go.
“We can’t move into your side of the duplex,” you laughed, “between our books alone there’s not enough room.”
“We aren’t moving in there,” he said, like you were an idiot. “I have a house closer to work that I stay at sometimes. I don’t stay there much, but I thought we could make it ours.”
“Why would you wanna live in this tiny apartment duplex and not in a nice house?” you mumbled into his shoulder, and he chuckled lightly to himself.
“It’s too big for just me, and I haven’t lived with anyone since I went to college. That was a long time ago, bunny.”
You smiled, and he turned his head to press his cheek against yours when he felt it, “You’ve never lived with anyone but you want to live with me?”
Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down your back, making you feel small and protected with his strong frame wrapped around you. He whispered gently in your ear, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N.”
“Okaaay,” you said lazily, pretending like it was a hassle to say this, and you felt Spencer laugh to himself. “I’ll move in with you.”
Spencer lifted one hand from your back to bring it down sharply on your backside. You yelped and pulled back to glare at him, but he just squeezed your ass in his palm and grinned.
“You know what we have to do now?” he asked lightly.
You cocked your head at the mischievous look in his eye, “What?”
“We have to fuck in every room of that house,” he said, his face taking that dark dominating nature he always got when he had a devilish idea. Brushing back your hair with his fingers, Spencer bumped your nose with his and said, “I’m going to christen that place with your cum, bunny.”
You blushed furiously and smiled back, “I can’t wait.”
Notes: Please tell me what you think! Do you think Spencer will stay faithful?
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You plan to admit your feelings to Spencer one autumnal afternoon, and maybe it leads to something else you had been craving too...
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Love confessions, slight fear of unrequited love, kissing, sex, oral (fem rec duh), fingering, fucking, bit of a daddy kink, bit of soft!dom Spencer, dirty talk, two sex drunk hotties
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: Approx 2.2k
𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! I had completely intended on writing some of the fics in my wips, but my brain just did this one instead oopsie. Enjoy, it's not edited but I hope you like it anyway. Part 2 anyone??
Autumn was slowly creeping in.
Hues of oranges and browns blossomed in the trees like patchwork.
You sat beneath the old willow with a book in hand. It was the type of book that gave you the same autumnal, cosy feeling whenever you picked it up.
The air had a chill to it and you wore your favourite jumper to embrace the slow beginning of your favourite season.
It was cloudy, there might be rain, but you didn’t care. The willow would keep you sheltered enough.
The silvery leaves turning orange on the old birch trees rustled and swayed in a lazy gust of cool wind.
Spencer saw you from across the park. It was not easy to miss you, especially when you always met in the same spot.
Meet me by the willow.
That had been the note he’d received at work and when he was finished in the office, he came straight down without a second to spare.
Looking up from your book, page scraping against page as you separated them to turn to the next one, you saw Spencer.
Warmth.
When you looked at Spencer, that was what you felt. It was a calming warmth that spread from your heart. But sometimes there was a different warmth, low in your stomach that you were desperate to share with him, one that you didn’t want to share with anyone else.
You wondered if he knew what he did to you. If he knew the same warmth that gathered in your heart when you saw him and fluttered through your body like the autumn leaves themselves.
You wondered if you gave him the same kind of warmth.
“Hey.” His voice was smooth and kind and hearing it was akin to being wrapped up in a blanket.
He sat down beside you, feeling the coolth of the grass beneath his fingers as he turned to face you.
“Hey Spence.”
“Sherlock again?” Spencer asked, casting a glance down at your book.
“Nothing I do should be a surprise to you anymore.” You smiled, watching as a smirk formed on his lips.
“I wouldn’t expect less from you.” He said softly. “Did you have something you wanted to talk about?” He asked.
You did, in fact. But saying it out loud was like trying to formulate words in a language you could not speak.
It was not that the concept of your feelings were foreign to you, rather they were so familiar now that you just didn’t know how to put them into words or how to describe the way you felt.
“Do you ever feel something that you cannot describe when you look at someone you admire? It’s like the comfort of warm honey on your tongue and a blanket around your shoulders.” You stopped yourself, feeling far too poetic and abstract for something that should be easy to say.
I’m in love with you.I love you.
How were you supposed to word that?
“Nevermind, maybe I just-.”
“No, I know how you feel.” He interrupted, eyes catching yours and softening when he saw the embarrassment bloom across your features. “There’s someone in my life. When I look at her, I feel the warmth of the sunrise and the smell of rain. The freshness of her presence brings me comfort.”
But instead of sharing his smile, yours fell slowly.
“Does she know?” You asked quietly.
“No.”
“Then you should tell her.” You said, barely above a whisper.
“Maybe I should.” He replied, a smile on his lips, but his eyes were trained on you, all too aware of the way your demeanour had shifted.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer murmured, reaching out for you, but your hand darted away from his.
“I think it’s going to rain.” You told him.
You hadn’t cared if it rained on you. You had only cared because the warmth you had felt was becoming overwhelming now and it felt like hot, thick cotton in your mouth.
Your eyes stung, but you did not let the tears come. You pulled them back with a deep breath, but Spencer was not a fool. He could see the prickling at your eyes, the glistening on the surface that was not welcome.
Oh.
The realisation hit him.
“Wait, hold on.” He watched as you sprung to your feet, but he was faster and before you could begin to walk away, his hand reached for yours, fingers gripping you with a firm squeeze.
“If you leave, I can’t tell her.” He said.
“What?” The word was spoken with no breath as you turned to face him. And then it dawned upon you that he was talking about you.
You had thought that Spencer was speaking about someone else.
But he only spoke of you.
He realised how his words sounded to you and he didn’t want you to leave. Not with that misunderstanding clouding your warmth and chilling you to the core.
“You’re the one that makes me feel warm. You’re the one that whenever I look at you, I can’t help but smile. I can’t look away from you for more than a moment without wanting to look at you again. Sometimes I wish I could meet you for the first time again so I could feel the way I did when I first saw you. There was a rush in my heart, like everything fell into place when I met you.” Spencer rushed his words, but spoke them with care. “I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but you changed my mind.”
You felt the first drops of rain as the clouds darkened, but you did not mind.
The warmth radiated in a way that was comfortable again, but the tears couldn’t be helped and they fell in slow, quiet streams.
“Spence,” You let him pull you closer, tears stealing your words away.
“It’s always been you, baby.” He whispered.
The rain came, drizzling at first as he pulled you against him, leaning in to capture you in a kiss. The heat of his lips was intoxicating, his grip moving to your waist, holding you where you needed him, fingers dimpling against your soft skin.
For the first time, you felt the gentle warmth inside of you burn brightly, but it was warm, like a hearth and gentle like the flicker of a candle.
Your fingers trailed over the wool of his jumper, sinking into his soft hair as you kissed him, lips against his in a dance of passion. There was a slowness to it all, like a haze of fog that grew between you, making you drunk on his affection.
The rain came down heavier now. It filtered between the drooping leaves of the willow above and cold droplets kissed your skin, soothing the heat beneath your cheeks, but it did nothing to quell the heat in your stomach.
There was an aching pressure below, it forced out a soft moan from between your lips without your permission. It wanted to be known.
But Spencer already knew. He could feel it when he touched you, the way you pressed yourself against him, absentmindedly searching for anything to soothe the temptation deep in your stomach.
He parted from you, lips reluctant to be alone, but the gaze he cast upon you was shining with the same heat you felt.
His eyes were dark and hazy, breath heavy, fingers still holding you with a tight firmness.
“Home?” The word was rough as it passed through his lips. You knew what he wanted, it was the same as what you craved too.
There was nothing that said you had to, but the tingle that played between your legs was adamant and you wished that you could have each other right here, in the rain beneath the tree.
“Home.” You nodded, letting him lead you away.
It was a quick, dizzying moment before you were aware that you were in his apartment, the door closing behind him, lights low as the thunder rumbled overhead.
“We can wait, if you want to, baby.” Spencer reassured you, his touch soft this time as he helped you out of your damp jumper.
“I want you, Spencer. Only if you’ll have me too.” You breathed out, gaze hot on him, like a flame that licked at his skin.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, his breath sending a shiver down your spine as his lips moved gently against the shell of your ear, fingers grasping at you, pulling you towards him. “Don’t be shy, tell me what you need.”
His voice sent goosebumps over your skin, nipples peaked beneath your shirt, the heat between your legs unbearable.
“Please, make me cum.” You whispered it, too shy to speak the words aloud.
“Good girl, I’ll do anything you ask me to baby.” He told you, pushing you back against the sofa.
Your clothes came off easily, his fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread you open for him.
His tongue eagerly dipping into the nectar of your centre, lifting a gasp from your lips. He watched as you gripped the sofa harshly, pleasure rushing through you as he worked circles into your bud, moan after moan pouring out of you and fuelling his need to pleasure you.
His fingers slipped between your folds, slipping around your clit as he sucked the bud between his lips, gently pressing his fingers into you and watching with awe as you let out the most pornographic moan he’d ever head.
He didn’t let up, tongue lapping, addicted to your taste, to the way it felt to watch you beneath him, spiralling into euphoria as he stroked waves over pleasure through you with his touch.
“Let go for me, baby girl. Let me hear you.” He muttered against your skin, tongue faster, more pointed, hurrying for your release, watching as you teetered on the edge until it all came rushing through. You let out a gasp, followed by a drawn out moan, little jolts of pleasure rushing through you as his tongue caressed you through your orgasm, teasing until you were too sensitive to take anymore.
“Such a good girl.” Spencer whispered.
He teased you then, pressing against your sensitive, hot centre, eyes blown out as the lewd sound of your nectar against his cock filled the room.
“Please, fuck me daddy.” You whined, watching as he took not a second longer to enter you, pressing deep and watching you throw your head back as he took you.
His thrusts were heavy and pressed the air out of you with every pass. His grunts sent you into a dizzying haze, feeling his fingers grasp at you as he fucked deep into your pretty pussy, sharing the warmth you had wanted to give him.
He fucked you breathless, he fucked you senseless, each thrust throwing you deeper into pleasure, moans falling from your lips.
You were almost delirious when his fingers pressed and rubbed tight circles on your oversensitive bud, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the edge.
“You can give me another one, baby girl. Let me have it.” His voice was rough and deep in your voice but there was still a softness to it that made you feel safe and warm and good.
With a few more controlled sweeps of his thumb over your pretty little bud and his cock pressing deep into you, you felt the pleasure roll over in waves inside of you, sending out a wobbly moan, gasps and whimpers coming to the surface as he worked you through your orgasm until he reached his own. He groaned, deep and heavy as he pressed into you, letting go and fucking you through his own orgasm.
You suddenly felt exhausted, eyes fluttering closed as you let out a shuddering breath, unable to string words together.
“I love you.” The words were pressed against your skin with a soft kiss to your temple.
“Spencer,” You could only say his name, soft and sweet and sleepy on your lips.
The warmth evened out and you woke, hot and sweaty, eyes opening quickly.
Realisation hit you, it had just been a dream.
A dream about your very handsome coworker.
The breath you let out was ragged and you looked around, thankful that the jet was full of sleeping agents and hoped that no one had been awake to witness you shuffle in your dream.
You swallowed thickly. The vividness of that dream was overwhelming and you shuffled in your seat, pressing your thighs together, craving release more than ever. Spencer was only yours in your dream. Maybe you’d tell him how you felt soon, but you were terrified of the rejection.
But then you felt him, fingers brushing over your thigh.
“That sounded like a satisfying dream to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
You almost let out a little whimper, but you stopped yourself, eyes nervously meeting his gaze.
“I had no idea my name sounded so pretty on your lips.” Spencer whispered softly. “Will you let me hear it again, baby girl?”