insert beyonce voice: i said i want something big. i want something that says i'm here....
Let's have some fun this October! I haven't written or posted fics in what feels like a million years, so I thought it'd be exciting to break in my brand new blog with a whole month of fics.
Starting October 1st I will be posting two fics every week (every Sunday and Friday), each one exploring a different kink. And leading up to Halloween, starting on the 27th, I'll be posting every day! Check out the read more for a schedule of events.
THIS IS KINKTOBER. IT IS MEANT FOR 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
kinktober is delayed for a little while. a coworker of mine passed away very unexpectedly, and suddenly, a few days ago. it's been a shock to all of my friends and me. I'm just not in a good headspace to write at the moment.
the prompts are not canceled, and i will finish them out but i just need some time right now.
thank you all for your continued support. I'll be back soon <333
author's note: sorry this is so late. i came down with a little bug or something on sunday and was down all day monday too. but finally starting to feel better. this is shorter and not as edited as usual due to sickness. I've also switched out breeding with the planned prompt (squirting). that prompt will still happen, just later. thanks for reading <333
summary: You decide to revisit a previous conversation with Spencer and explore something new.
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
“We need to talk,” you decide to just come out and say it.
For the last week, you’ve been dropping hints to Spencer and waiting for him to understand what you are trying to say, but he hasn’t. The 187 IQ and the best profiling skills in the country didn’t do much when he was rather oblivious to subtleties.
He’s sitting on the worn, well-loved couch of his apartment leisurely reading and finishing The Metamorphosis by Kafka for the millionth time, a pile of more books littering the coffee table in front of him.
“Spencer.” You say a little louder and he looks up from his book and smiles at you.
“Hey, I didn't realize you were awake. Do you want breakfast?”
“I need to talk to you,” you repeat yourself.
He swallows nervously and you realize you might’ve taken a misstep in your delivery. “No, no it’s nothing bad.” You scramble to say and race over to the couch to sit beside him. The leather couch that you once jokingly said made you feel like you were in a psychiatrist’s office, creaks lightly as you position yourself so that you can face Spencer, your legs crossed in front of you.
One of his hands reaches for one of yours and holds it, his thumb smoothing over your skin. “What do you need?”
You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You weren’t nervous, but any sort of relatively serious conversation still made your stomach do little tiny flips. “Do you remember a couple months ago when we talked about… um,” you can feel yourself blushing.
Spencer’s brows furrow and you can tell his mind is racing to try and remember any significant conversations the two of you have had.
“In that hotel room.” You supply.
He lets out a breath, “that doesn’t really help. We’re in hotels more than we’re at home.”
You let out your own breath, frustrated at your inability to just come out and say what you want. You close your eyes and allow the words to spill forth, “when I wanted you to fuck me without a condom.” You squeeze your eyes in a grimace and then force them open.
Spencer’s mouth is open, his cheeks pink and rosy. He blinks, closes his mouth, opens it, licks his bottom lip, and then shuts his mouth again. The hand holding yours tightens almost undetectably.
“Spencer?” You whisper.
He clears his throat, “I remember.”
“Well, I’d like to revisit that conversation.”
His back straightens, like he’s a professor who has just been asked to defend his entire life’s work. “Okay.” He nods, a few strands of errant hair falling across his forehead. You reach up and push the hair back into place.
“Is that something you would be comfortable with?” You ask.
“Having sex without protection?” He clarifies and you nod to confirm. He swallows and runs his free hand through his hair, clearly nervous. “I’ve never…”
“I know.” You incline your head toward his and press a feather-light kiss to his lips and then sit back again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want, but –”
“Is it something you want?”
“Yes.” You squeeze his hand.
“Do you want to get pregnant?” He asks point-blankly and it makes your stomach clench. You look away from his intense eye contact and you feel your body heat under his gaze.
“No.” You say, which is the truth. “I’m still on birth control.” But you can’t help the way your body reacts to the idea.
Spencer’s free hand reaches up and caresses your cheek, causing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m comfortable with it.”
“Yeah?”
He nods and you feel him guiding you closer to him. “Yeah,” he whispers right before your lips connect with his. You kiss him softly at first, trying to say a thousand words you didn’t have time to say through your kiss. He tells you just how much he loves you and you respond in kind. His hands have found their way to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin underneath your shirt and you feel your body immediately thrum to life.
“I don’t want to be teased.” You say against his lips. He laughs, but instantly pulls back so he can take off your shirt. There are days that you spend hours with your bodies against each other, exploring, teasing, pleasuring. But you feel like you won’t last longer than fifteen minutes. You want him so bad.
He pulls you onto his lap, his lips against one of your breasts, quickly pulling a nipple into his mouth. One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, the other one tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, not allowing him to move.
“Spencer, fuck.” You murmur and one of his hands slips into the band of your pajama pants. He gasps when he makes contact with your soaking center, but doesn’t waste any time before circling your clit. He lays kisses against your sternum, his jaw brushing against your skin, as he moves to your neglected tit.
Your hold on him tightens when he perfectly times it as he takes your nipple between his teeth and plunges a finger into you. “I need you, please, Spencer.” You scramble to grind your hips against him, finding that delicious friction that you’re desperate for.
“Do you want my cum, baby?” He asks, moving away from your breast, but still pressing his lips against any exposed skin he can find.
Your hips falter only for a split second. This is new. A brand new exploration for the both of you, but you can’t deny how you push down harder on his finger and feel the heat at the base of your spine start to spread. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, yeah. I want it.”
“Then you’ve gotta do what I ask. Then you’ll get my cum like a good girl. Are you gonna be my good girl?” He pulls away from your skin completely and looks you in the eyes, you continue to push and grind yourself on his finger, but it isn’t enough.
“Yes, yes. I’ll be – ah” you gasp as he adds a second finger. “Good girl.” You finish and he grabs your hip to stop your movement.
“You’re gonna make yourself come with just my fingers, can you do that, baby?” You nod and feel yourself clench on him. He moves your hip for you, setting the pace and positions his hand inside you so that his palm grinds against your sensitive clit.
“Fuck,” you moan and he inclines his head to nip at your neck.
“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. My good girl, aren’t you? So desperate for my cum.”
You nod your head frantically, your breath and words coming out rapidly, “I am. I am.”
He nips at your neck again, “I know you are.” He speeds up your hips. “I can tell you’re close, yeah, just keep doing that. So good.” He leans back to watch you fall apart on his fingers.
He holds onto your hip tightly, guiding you through the blinding white pleasure coursing through you, as you moan his name. You jerk against him and he murmurs praise against your lips, kissing you and letting you rest against him.
You pull away from him and reach between his body and your own and press a hand onto his rock hard bulge. He smirks. “I didn’t forget. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” You nod and he’s pulling your pajama pants off of you and lifting his own hips to shed his pants as well. Your legs are on either side of his thighs and he trails his hands up your bare legs. But your eyes wander to his cock resting against him and you reach for him.
“You’re sure?” He checks in with you one last time.
“I want you so bad.” You grip his base and he tosses his head back with a moan.
“I’m all yours, baby. Take me.” You guide him until you're hovering directly over his leaking head. He hisses at the simple contact with your wetness. “Keep going, don’t stop, please.” He mutters and you feel yourself clench at his words. You lower yourself completely on him, slowly, savoring the sensation. He leans his forehead against yours when he’s fully seated inside you. “You feel incredible.”
You moan and grind against him, his hands flying to your hips, moving you against him again. As you move together, he starts to ramble. “If you want my cum, you're gonna have to work for it, love. That's it just like that. Fuck. Perfect. I can feel all of you. Every single inch of you. So tight. Yes, clench around me like that, squeeze me. I'll fill you up, baby, if you do that. Give you what you want. Get you pregnant.”
You gasp and grind harder on him.
“You like that, don’t you?” He mutters, biting at your shoulder. You nod, frenzied. “You want to be so full from me, yeah?”
“Yes, yes, please.” He moves you faster, but your hips falter and stutter against him, losing your rhythm.
“Come on, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to come inside you.”
You whimper, “I do. I do.” You try to find the pattern again, but you can’t because you’re too close. He groans against you and presses you against him. Suddenly, you're lying on your back on the couch, Spencer moving your legs so they wrap around his body and you pull him as close as possible to you.
He’s impossibly slow at first, every single inch of him sliding into you and you arch up into him. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders and then scratch their way down his chest. “Please, Spencer.”
He answers you by slamming into you. You lose your breath for a split second, but then relax into his steady pacing. He leans down to you, kissing you and muttering against your lips. “You’re gonna squeeze my cum out of me. It’s all yours, baby. I know you want it. Don’t you? You want all of it?” His thumb finds your clit and you come undone against him, just as he plunges into you and you feel him fill you. Your nails dig into his skin and he whimpers into the crook of your neck. As the two of you inch your way off the intense cliff of your pleasure, his hips slow and he pulls away from you. He lifts up and watches as he slowly pumps into you, fucking his come deeper into you.
His eyes flick up to yours and he smiles and pulls out of you completely. He lays atop of you and kisses you deeply. His fingers trail across your cheek and into your hair.
“We need a shower.” He laughs. You laugh with him.
“And then food?” You ask.
He makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “Sounds like a plan.” And kisses you again.
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife
author's note: happy friday the 13th!! this is a behemoth, but it feels right to celebrate this day with a little bit of fireworks lol!! thank you to everyone who voted in the poll, I might do more of those throughout the month. thank you for reading and let me know if you want to be tagged! (also, because this took me so long, it isn't as tightly edited as my other work)
summary: To be completely honest, you're struggling a little bit with you new job at the BAU. Spencer is there to help. Oh, and maybe he can help you with a few other things too.
warnings: female reader, losing virginity, fingering, oral (female receiving), grinding, discussion about masturbation and mention of sex toys
word count: 6.9k (sorry? lol)
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
Morgan smiles up at you from his desk as you scramble into the bullpen. Garcia is leaning against his desk as she raises her eyebrows. You toss your go bag under your own desk and push your hair out of your face, trying to ignore the pair.
“Rough night?” Morgan giggles, as he pushes the pencil he’s holding through his circled fingers suggestively. Garcia guffaws, but at least has the decency to playfully hit Morgan on the shoulder.
“Can you two behave for like five minutes?” You groan and try to find your ID badge. You literally just had it to get into the BAU department, but now it has mysteriously disappeared. It isn’t on your desk or in any of your pockets, but you do find a couple crumpled up dollar bills that you toss onto your desk without thinking.
The appearance of the bills causes Morgan to whistle. Emily walks over and sees the offending currency. “Damn, invite me next time!” She laughs.
You roll your eyes and don’t reply. Instead, you pull up your go bag and start to empty it. Maybe you accidentally put your badge in one of the pockets, you rationalize.
“What is going on?” JJ asks with a small laugh, gesturing to the contents of your go bag now completely strewn across the desk. Clothing and toiletries clutter the surface and you know you look like a crazy person. And maybe you are crazy. No, you definitely are crazy. Anyone who does this job is absolutely batshit crazy.
Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. You are absolutely not going to have a mental breakdown at eight in the morning in the bullpen, and definitely not in front of fucking Derek Morgan. “I can’t find my badge.” You mutter and drop down to your knees to look under your chair and desk.
You palm the dirty floor, but don’t find anything. Your friends stifle their laughter. “I would help you but this is not a crawl around on the floor kind of dress.” Penelope offers.
“Gee, thanks.” You say to yourself.
“Hey, has anyone seen –” Spencer stops in both his tracks and his sentence when he notices you on the floor. He swallows. “I found your ID badge. Over by the door. I think you dropped it.”
“Wonder boy saves the day!” Morgan exclaims.
Spencer finishes his trek over to you and offers a hand to help you up. You glance up at him, blushing slightly at the angle. Who would’ve thought you’d be on your knees in front of Dr. Reid? Okay, you’ve definitely thought about it, but your imagination didn’t normally make it happen inside Quantico and it absolutely never in front of your coworkers.
“Sorry, my hands are kind of dirty. Uh, from the floor.” You confess and take his hand as you stand up. His hand is warm and soft, like really soft. Like you could easily fall asleep to him rubbing your back in mindless patterns. As soon as you’re on your feet you slip your hand out of his to avoid your mind adding more ammunition to your middle of the night imaginations about Spencer.
“It’s okay.”
“Thanks. For the badge… and –” you take the badge from his other hand and gesture meaninglessly between the two of you.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself redden deeper.
“Alright, alright! Time for kiss and tell!” Penelope exclaims and you blink away from your eye contact with Reid.
“What?” You whip your head around to her.
Emily makes kissing noises and musses her hair. “You. And some mystery person. Last night. Clearly.”
You turn toward her. “No. I wasn’t…” you start, your eyes flick over to Spencer as he walks toward his desk. “There’s no one.”
JJ leans on your desk and raises her brows. “Then what were you doing last night?”
You could not tell them the truth, but it was also impossible to lie to the best profilers in the country, so you give them a half truth. “Nothing. I just had a bad night.” You shrug and start to put your clothing back in your go bag, not bothering to fold it.
The truth is that it had been a bad night because you were struggling with the job. You’d been hired ten months ago and the lack of sleep, the neverending cases, and having to constantly deal with the horrific things humans can do to one another was taking its toll on you. Yesterday had been a day off and you wanted to use it to catch up on sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, the faces of the people you couldn’t save filtered in. You hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since you started and it had caused a complete breakdown last night. You had pulled up Hotch’s contact information four times ready to quit, but you knew you couldn’t do it. You were here for a reason, you’d stick it out.
Penelope hums. “Well, if it wasn’t a person… then it must’ve been alcohol.”
“Or gambling.” Emily adds.
You roll your eyes. “I don’t gamble.”
“You should. It’s a lot of fun. I’ll play you in Blackjack.” Emily smiles.
“Don’t play with her, she counts cards.” Reid murmurs absentmindedly as he reads over a file at his desk.
“I do not!”
Everyone laughs, but then the laughter dies away when Hotch comes out of his office. “Looks like no one gets to have fun for a couple of days.” Emily groans.
On the flight home after the case, you’re seated across from Spencer. Everyone else is asleep or has headphones in, even Hotch is passed out on the couch, which is rare. You still can’t sleep, so you stare out the window into the darkness as you fly over Virgina. Spencer clears his throat and you roll your head to look at him.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
You allow a small smile to form on your lips. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He swallows and puts the book in his hand down in his lap as he leans forward slightly. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but you don’t really seem like yourself lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”
The sore achy feeling of wanting to cry but holding it in burns your throat. You cough softly. “I’m okay, really. Just – having trouble sleeping.” You give just a little bit of information, hoping it assuages his curiosity.
“Is it that mystery person keeping you up at night?” He asks point-blankly.
Your mouth is agape and you snap it shut, “did you just make a joke?”
“I tried to.” He smiles and you match his smile with your own.
“There really isn’t anyone.” You shake your head. “I’ve never –” you almost let the rest of the sentence slip out, but stop yourself just in time. The lack of sleep is obviously affecting you more than you thought.
“You’ve never what?” The way he moves his body forward in his seat makes your heart thrum in your chest. His body language is clear, even a rookie behavioral analyst could tell, he was prepared to listen to what you have to say. Not only that, but he actually cared.
You bite the inside of your cheek before letting out a sigh. Before you answer, you lean closer toward him, “I’ve never had sex, actually.”
His eyes widen and he clears his throat, “you’re a –”
“Virgin,” you finish for him. “I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by it. And it isn’t like I’m saving it or anything. It just hasn’t happened yet.” You shrug. “In all honesty, part of me just wants to pick some random person and get it over with.” You let out a small breathy laugh in an attempt to make you feel less awkward.
“Why haven’t you?” You meet his eyes. “I mean, just found a random person to get it over with?”
One of your shoulders lifts in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Like when I think about it, I realize that I’d rather have someone I trust, you know. Someone who would take care of me and not just see me as another notch on their bedpost. At least for the first time. And then after that, I’d feel more comfortable just going out and… you know.”
“Notching up some bed posts.” He nods knowingly and you giggle. He smiles, you notice that he enjoys making you laugh. A lot of the time it seems like people are maybe laughing at him or about him, but not you. He’s never the butt of the joke for you.
“Sure, Spencer.” You can’t help, but trail your eyes over him and contemplate the question that’s on the tip of your tongue. “How did you lose your virginity?”
He doesn’t seem offended or shocked by your question. “In college.”
You scoff, “weren’t you like twelve?”
“During my undergrad, yes. But I have multiple PhDs.”
“Of course, Doctor Reid.”
He shifts in his seat. “I was twenty. She was, uh, we worked in the same lab. And had the same research advisor.”
“So you two experimented on each other.” You joked.
Spencer’s face flushed and you felt a pang deep in your stomach. “In a way, yes.”
“I’m joking, Spencer.” He nods in understanding. “Were you like her boyfriend?”
“No, we just –”
“Hooked up.” You finish for him.
“For a couple months, yeah.”
Your mouth drops and you whisper, “you had a fuck buddy?”
His blush deepens. “I don’t think we ever called each other that.”
“What did you call her?”
“I don’t know. We never talked about it. I finished my doctoral thesis before her.” He shrugs.
“Wow, who knew.”
“What?”
“Morgan isn’t the only playa on the team.” You giggle and scrunch your nose, feeling the stress of the last few weeks dissipate from your shoulders.
“I’m not…” he laughs and shakes his head. He glances out the window. “We’re landing soon.” He swallows and leans back in his seat. It was terrible, but you had a strong urge to step across to his seat and straddle his lap and kiss him until you were both breathless. You turn your gaze back to the window and try to force the image away.
Your car wouldn’t start. You forcefully turned the key in the ignition again, and it sputtered and died. As you hit your steering wheel, you let out a frustrated noise and hit it again. You turn to grab your cell phone from your bag to call a tow truck and jump when you hear a knock on your driver’s side window. Spencer stands there apologetically, waving his hand with his closed mouth smile.
He steps aside when you open the car door and get out. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” You laugh bitterly. “My car won’t start and I need to get a tow.” You bite your lip, but can’t stop the tears that bubble over.
Spencer freezes, but then reaches out and touches your shoulder lightly. “It’s okay.” For some reason his comfort makes you cry harder. “Oh, uh, here,” he mutters and pulls you into a full hug. He squeezes you tight against him and rubs your back as you cry into his chest.
“I’m sorry, Spencer.” You blubber into his shirt.
“No, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Is it?” You pull away from his chest to look in his eyes. “I’m failing at this job and –”
“Woah, failing at this job?” He interrupts. “Who said that?” His brows furrow angrily.
“No one.” You blink away the tears stuck in your eyelashes and Spencer reaches up and swipes away one that trails down your cheek.
“You’re not failing. You’re excelling. You’re incredible. Truly, I mean that. I wouldn’t lie to you. I promise.” He swallows and you realize how close to his face you are, his hands wrapped around your back.
You don’t stop yourself, even though you know you should, as you lean into him. His eyes flutter down to your lips, but he doesn’t pull away, so you keep going. Your lips touch his lightly, barely there before you back away.
His hands tighten on you and pull you closer to him. He chases your lips with his and kisses you back, your own hands are on his chest and they twist into his shirt. You kiss him fervently, his hands traveling to your lower back, arching you into him. A moan escapes from the back of your throat and it breaks the spell. Spencer pulls away from the kiss.
His lips are pink and shimmery and you want to kiss him again. Desperately. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, his tongue slipping out and swiping across his bottom lip.
“What for?” You blink.
“Kissing you.”
“I kissed you.”
“I kissed you back.”
“And you should do it again.”
His eyes dart to your lips. He wants to, you can tell, but he stops himself. “We shouldn’t.”
“Not here, at least.” You glance behind him and pray that the parking garage is completely empty. If your coworkers acted the way they did this morning about a nonexistent mystery person, you can only imagine their reactions if they saw you making out with Spencer.
“It’s inappropriate.”
“I don’t care.”
“There’s paperwork.”
“Not if we don’t tell anyone.”
“That’s not how that works.” He laughs, you can feel the vibrations of the sound against his chest.
“Do you always play by the rules, Dr. Reid?”
He swallows harshly, you watch the movement of his Adam’s apple bob against the tight skin of his neck. “I’ll drive you home.” He deflects.
You reach up on your toes and kiss him again. His hands spread on your back and press you against him and your hands pull him tighter to you, wrinkling his shirt. You hear footsteps and both of you step away from each other instantly, putting distance between your bodies. You turn your head to see a person you don’t recognize come into view from the other side of the parking garage. They don’t even glance in your direction. The hammering in your chest slows and you turn back to Spencer. He runs a hand through his hair.
“Grab your bag.” He says with an authority that makes you spring into action quickly. Neither of you say anything as you follow him down the rows of agents’ cars to his car. He opens the passenger side for you, the vintage car creaks in protest. He closes the door and you watch from the rearview mirror as he walks around the back of the car toward the driver’s side, his hands in his pocket.
He slides into the car seat and starts the car, it rumbles to life loudly. “I normally don’t even drive to work, just take public transportation. But I had an errand the other day.” He explains absentmindedly as he checks the rearview mirror and slowly backs out of the park spot.
“It’s kismet.”
“I always thought it was interesting that the English pilfered that word from the Turkish language. Considering words like fate and destiny already existed. Some etymologists attribute it to the rampant orientalism at the time. You know, like kismet was more mysterious or mystical or exciting than just simple fate.” He rambles and drives you out of the parking garage. A heady want begins to grow in your lower stomach. “And of course, the Turkish developed the word from an Arabic word meaning portion or lot. Which is fascinating.”
“It is.” You say earnestly.
He glances over at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble.”
“Don’t apologize. I like it.”
His eyes are already back on the road, but you can see his cheeks redden in a slight blush. “Where do you live?” He asks and you tell him. It isn’t a long drive, well it isn’t this late at night. Your morning commute is a nightmare. He gives you a brief look, “why did you join the BAU?”
You exhale a long breath before you answer. “I wanted to help people I guess. Which is so cliche, but it’s the truth. Like it isn’t even about putting bad guys away or whatever. I just want to make the world safer. For everyone.” You look over at him and he meets your gaze for a split second.
“You are doing a good job.” He states. You shake your head. “I mean it. You are. You’re making a difference. You’re helping people.”
“But how do you keep your head above water? I mean… how do you not let it beat you down?”
“We have each other. And you focus on the good.”
You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, letting his words sink in. “Thanks, Spencer. For everything today.”
He pulls into a parking spot in front of your apartment building. “I’ll walk you up.”
You go to unbuckle your seatbelt, but it doesn’t budge. You try again, but again, nothing.
“Oh, sometimes it sticks. Here,” he leans across the middle and reaches for your seatbelt buckle. His fingers graze the outside of your thigh and inhale sharply, electricity buzzing from the simplest of touches. He unbuckles you and you let the seat belt slide across your body, he doesn’t move away from you. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, it enflames you.
“Spencer,” you whisper and turn your head toward him. His eyes slowly trail down your face toward your lips and then back up to your eyes. You can’t take it, so you lean forward and kiss him again. Tentative at first, waiting for him to respond. He does, his hands pulling your face closer to his, deepening the kiss. When you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip you open for him, let him explore and learn. You sigh into his mouth, your hands find their way to the back of his neck.
He slips away from you, breathless, but starts to kiss down your jaw. He mutters your name against your skin. You feel the warmth of his kisses travel down your spine toward your core.
“Come upstairs.” You sigh, when he bites lightly on a sensitive spot on your neck.
“I can’t. I shouldn’t.” He pants against your skin.
“I want you.”
He groans, deep and frustrated, and moves to lean his forehead against yours, both of your heavy breathing intermingling and becoming one. “You shouldn’t want me.”
“Why not? And don’t say the bullshit about us working together. I don’t care, Spencer. I trust you. I want you.”
He backs his head away from your forehead so that he can look into your eyes, his thumb against your cheek brushes back and forth. “You trust me?”
“With everything in me.” He kisses you again, softly, tenderly.
“I’ll take care of you.”
“I know.” You kiss him back and then pull away. He nods and you return it with a nod of your own.
His tongue glides across his lip and he swallows. You blink and he’s moving out of his seat and already at the passenger side door before you can reach for the handle. He opens it quickly and helps you out. It’s old school, but it makes your heart stutter and start. When he takes your hand in his, it feels like two magnets being drawn together. He slams the car door shut and you lead him up to your apartment.
Once you unlock your front door and guide him in, you shut the door and turn to look at him. You flick on the light. He stares at you and asks, “you’re sure?”
“Positive.” You step toward him and reach out to slide your hands across his stomach and then land on his waist. “Do I have to kiss you first again, or –” you don’t have to finish your question before his lips are on yours. His kisses are not tentative or searching, they’re needy and impassioned. Before long, you’re clawing at his shirt, untucking it from his pants and then reaching up to undo his tie.
He stops you as he breathes laboriously. “Wait, we should slow down.”
You continue to work on his tie, perpetually crooked, but now just an obstacle to what you need desperately. “I don’t wanna go slow.”
He moans and you finally get his tie undone and whip it off. “No, we should.”
Your fingers work deftly against his buttons, one at a time, and you look up at him. “I’m a virgin, but I’m not inexperienced. I’m not a delicate flower.”
His expression changes, his eyes grow heavy and he quirks his jaw. “Not inexperienced?”
“I’m not.” You almost sound like a petulant teenager.
“How far?”
“What?”
“How far have you gotten?” Your hands stop almost halfway through the third to last button. You don’t answer. His voice deepens, gravely and sexy, “you’ve clearly kissed before.” You nod. “Have you had someone feel your breasts?” As he asks the question, his hand reaches up and caresses your breast. You lean into the touch. “Has anyone put their mouth on your breasts, marking you as theirs? Rolling your nipple between their teeth?” He inclines his head into the crook of your neck and presses a hot kiss there. “Have you ever had somebody's mouth on your clit?”
Your breathing is sharp and jagged, but Spencer simply continues. “Would you let someone use their tongue to make you come? Or maybe even their fingers? Pump their fingers into until you're squirming?”
“Spencer,” you plead.
He continues to massage your breast as his other hand slips under your shirt and trails across your hips and stomach. “Or do you just mean that you’ve touched yourself? You’ve laid in bed and explored this beautiful body. Know just exactly how to make yourself shiver from your own fingers.”
You’re almost overwhelmed by his touch, his lips on your skin, and his words, your head is spinning, but you’re also desperate for more.
“We’re going to take it slow.” He informs you and it isn’t up for discussion. “Not because I think you’re a delicate flower.” He throws your own words back at you. “But because I want to take my time with you. I want to learn everything about your body. I want to touch every single inch of you with my hands. I want to make you come, I want to feel you come. Over and over again.” You’re practically shaking in his hands when his lips and teeth scrap across your jaw and to your lips. He takes them with his and you’re like clay on a potter’s wheel, malleable and completely at his will, waiting to be crafted into his masterpiece.
“Do you want that?” He breathes on your lips.
You somehow know instinctively that he wants a verbal confirmation, so you answer, “yes.”
He continues to kiss you, deeply, almost like a starved man tasting his first bit of sustenance. You answer with your own fervency. His hand at your hip squeezes and pulls you tight against him and you feel his want against you. It makes you moan. You grind your body against him and his grip tights even more.
“Bedroom. Where’s your bedroom?” He stutters, but doesn’t stop kissing you and you don’t stop either. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and twisting, holding him impossibly close to you. You didn’t know kissing could make you feel this way, simultaneously feverish and desperate, but also insatiable. You felt like you could kiss Spencer for a lifetime and never tire of it. He wasn’t close enough even though your bodies were pressed together, you needed more. The only thought in your brain is simply, more, more, more.
He pulls away from you, both of you taking heaving breaths. His lips were perfectly pink, your body thrummed with the knowledge that you caused such a change in him.
“Bedroom.” The single word went straight to your core. You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.
Once you turn on the light, he’s behind you, pressing into you. You can feel every part of him, and he kisses the back of your neck. He’s back to being soft and gentle. He brings his hands to your stomach and inches them under your shirt until he has your breasts in his hands.
Your breasts feel heavy and logically you know why. Blood has rushed to them, just as it has rushed to your other erogenous zones, and it is sending a signal to your brain to release oxytocin. But you’re realizing that logic has no place in your head when Spencer’s hands and mouth are on you. Logic means nothing to you at this moment.
“You’re so beautiful.” He compliments as he fondles your breasts, your head lolls back against his chest. He angles his head so he can kiss your cheek. “You distracted me that very first case you were on. Did you know that?”
“No,” your eyes flutter shut when he moves down to kiss your jaw.
“I thought you were so gorgeous. After the case, I went home to my apartment and touched myself as I imagined you. I felt so ashamed, I couldn’t even look you in the eyes the next morning.”
Your mind wanders back to all those months ago. “I thought I had done something wrong,” you remember.
“No, it was me. I was wrong. But I couldn’t stop. I mean you can feel what you do to me.” He was right, you could distinctly feel the effect you had on him.
“I thought of you too.” You confess.
“You did?” His voice is low and breathy and you nod. “In that bed.” He ticks his head to gesture toward it. “Tell me.”
You feel yourself heat with blush. His thumbs brush across your nipples through your bra and your breath gets caught in your throat. You swallow and answer. “I would lie there, normally because I couldn’t sleep. And then I’d think about you. Your hands, I’d think about your hands.”
“My hands?” He squeezes your breasts.
You nod and answer simultaneously, “yes. I’d imagine them on my body, touching me.” He brushes your nipples again and you shiver. “And I’d slip my hand into my underwear, and rub my clit. Pretend it was you.” His hands abandon your breasts and slide around to your back. You step forward as he takes off your shirt and then unhooks your bra and helps you out of it. His hands on your hips turn you to face him.
“I knew you were beautiful. But you’re perfect.” Your instinct is to feel self conscious under his gaze, but you push it away when you notice the admiration in his eyes.
You reach for him and finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt and then peeling it off of him. “Fair is fair.” You say. He laughs, but his laugh dies in his throat when your nails scratch down his chest.
Your hands explore his exposed chest and back, feeling the muscle move underneath soft skin, and he works to rid you of your pants. You use him for balance as you step out of your pants, but as soon as you're standing on two feet again, he backs you toward your bed.
When the back of your legs hit the bed, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. He leans over you, your legs open for him and he kisses you again. Your hands continue their previous tour of his back, now feeling how his shoulder blades move when he grinds against you.
The first time he does it, you throw your head back in a moan. Even though you have multiple layers of fabric between you, you can still feel the heat radiating through you. He does it again and you arch up to meet his movement. When he does it a third time your nails scratch down his back.
He makes a low noise from the back of his throat and you know that your panties are soaked. His lips take a journey down your body, kissing and nipping at your clavicle, your chest, spending a significant amount of time on both of your breasts, and down your stomach. Your clawing at his back by the time his mouth meets the band of your underwear.
“Look at you,” he whispers. His thumb rubs lightly at your clit over the fabric. Your thighs clench and he laughs. “Keep them open for me, baby.” You mewl at the pet name. “You like that? Being called baby?”
“Yes.” You groan out when his thumb repeats his earlier action.
He does it again, almost unbearably slow. “I want to taste you so bad. I’ve wanted to know how good you taste for so long.” His voice is strained.
“You can. I want you to.”
His hands skate up to the hem of your underwear and you lift your hips slightly as he pulls them down. You open your legs for him again and he swallows. “Stunning.” His mouth is on you before you have time to process the word.
Almost instantly, he moans against you, the vibrations causing your toes to curl. Your hands clench your duvet and he pulls away for a split second, “touch me.” You do what he asks, coiling your fingers into his hair. He laps at your clit, creating a pattern and rhythm that makes your buck up to meet him. His hands grip at your hips and hold you in place.
“Spencer, oh fuck,” you ramble. He answers by moaning against you again and then sucking your clit into his lips. You bite down a scream. The heat at the base of your spine spreads across your body. “Oh my god. Oh god.”
He alternates between lapping and sucking at your sensitive bud, your nails practically digging into his scalp, your toes curling, as you try to catch your breath. Just at the moment where it feels like too much, your body clenches and crashes over the edge of your ecstacy, his name falling from your lips repeatedly.
He continues to lap at you softly until your muscles relax in his arms and then he looks up at you, smiling and his lips glistening, “you’re incredible.” You pull him up, so that you can kiss him. You kiss the taste of you off his lips. He brings his head up to look at you, pushes away the stray hairs stuck to your forehead. “Are you going to get sick of me calling you beautiful?” He smiles.
“No, I don’t think I could.” He smiles into another kiss. His hands travel down your body and as soon as one of his fingers slides across your folds, the flames reignite.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
“I want all of you.” One of his fingers slips inside of you and then he pulls it out. He slides it back in and then repeats his action, starting slow and building up to a comfortable tempo, as he continues to kiss you. Nothing about his movements is frantic, but rather languid and relaxed, gently stoking the growing fire inside of you. You grind your hips against his finger and he smoothly adds a second finger. The feeling is different, but not bad as you feel yourself accommodating the extra digit.
“Alright?” He checks in with you, looking into your eyes.
“It feels good.” It’s not like the times you’ve laid here in this bed with your fingers inside you. It’s an entirely divergent sensation that you don’t think your imagination would have been able to conjure. “Really good.”
“Yeah?” He stops sliding his fingers in and out and instead leaves them inside as he pumps them, almost as if he’s searching. He finds what he’s looking for when you gasp and cling to his shoulder.
“Yeah.” You nod furiously, biting down on your lip. He’s no longer building the tension within you. Instead, it’s like he’s playing with a taut rubber band, waiting for it to snap.
You feel your eyes start to close, wanting to roll to the back of your head. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. I want to see. Want to see you come apart for me.”
You force your eyes open. “Spencer…”
“I know, relax into it.” His thumb starts to rub your clit. “You’re doing so good.”
“Oh my god,” you start to mutter and ramble again, a mixture of curses and Spencer’s name. You never break eye contact with him. It’s intense, but also intimate.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”
You let out a whine in answer and feel a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your core clenching on his fingers, the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you filling the room. The grip on his shoulders is tight and you hope it isn’t painful, but he barely seems to notice, all of his attention is on you. The mixture of admiration and lust on his features is almost too much. But you’re realizing that Spencer Reid never does anything part way or half-assed. Once Spencer puts his mind to something, he’s going to accomplish it. Not only that, but he’s going to put an almost Herculean effort into it. And somehow, you’ve become something he’s put his mind to. The thought makes you lean up and kiss him.
You kiss him until a gasp separates your lips from him. “So perfect,” he muses. Your core constricts and contracts on his fingers. Your breathing is short and your legs feel like they’re shaking, but you can’t really tell. “Come for me.”
One more shaky breath and then you do, the rubber band snaps. Your body arcs up into him and he swallows your shout with his lips, kissing you deeply. Again, he slows down but doesn’t stop, guiding you down from your high. When he does pull his fingers from you, you watch as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.
This time you don’t need him to rekindle the flame of need inside of you, it's already there. You reach between your bodies for his belt. Together, the two of you make quick work of the last of his clothing. And then he’s kissing you again, both his hands and your own caress, rub, and grab at each other. You reach down lower and lower, until you meet his hardened length with your hand. You grip the base and he falters.
“I’d love that. Really, I want it so bad. But I won’t last, baby.” You squeeze him again and smile up at him, fluttering your eyelashes. “You’re a vixen.” He laughs, kissing you.
“I want you.”
“Fuck. I don’t have a condom.” You blink, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Spencer drop the f-bomb. You giggle.
“I have some.” One of his eyebrows raises in question and you shrug. “I like to be prepared. They’re over there.” You gesture toward your nightstand and he stretches over to open it.
“Oh,” he lets out a surprised gasp and just then you remember what else is in your top drawer. “I guess you don’t just use your fingers to masturbate, do you?” He laughs.
You reach up behind you and grab a pillow and toss it at him. He dodges it and it falls to the floor. “Like I said, I’m a virgin, not inexperienced.”
Spencer grabs the box of unopened condoms, opens it and pulls one out. He carefully places the box back, his eyes lingering on your menagerie of sex toys.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“I have an eidetic memory. I’m remembering… for later.” He smiles and you feel your heart speed up, pounding against your ribcage. You hadn’t had time to discuss anything past tonight. His smile falters. “I mean – I don’t mean to presume anything. Only if you want.”
You reach over to him and pull him back toward you, kissing him. “I do. I want there to be a next time. Other times.”
He looks down at you, searching. “Good, I do too.” He kisses you and only pulls away to put on the condom. He continues his kisses as he moves to position himself, spreading your legs for him. He brushes his thumb over your clit again and you moan. When he lifts his head from yours and glances up at you. You nod your head.
You feel the tip of him at your entrance, pressing against you, but not fully in. That’s all he does at first, until you move on him and allow him to slip into you. He works himself into you, allowing you to stretch around him. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s definitely a new sensation. None of your toys feel like him. Both of you watch as his penis slowly disappears inside of you. He pushes in the last inch with a thrust. There’s a flash of a pinch and you let out a breath.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, just give me a second.” He nods, licks his bottom lip and then resumes his circles on your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to relax on him. You grind your hips, somehow taking him deeper. He groans. “Move, Spencer. Please.”
He inches out of you and then pushes back in without any urgency or force. He starts the same pattern and rhythm his fingers had used earlier that night. The feeling of him moving inside of you is incredible, you can feel him dragging against your walls. His body against yours, skin to skin, more connected than you’ve ever been with anyone else. Between the feeling of him pumping into and his movement against your clit, it doesn’t take long until you’re clawing at his back, wordlessly asking him for more. He answers, creating a relentless rhythm that you grind your hips to match.
At some point, your eyes had shut and you hadn’t realized and so you force them open again, wanting to watch Spencer come apart just like he watched you. “You feel so good. Better than I could have imagined.” He starts to ramble. “I can’t believe I get to feel you like this. So good.”
His eyes shoot down to watch himself slip in and out of you. “Fuck.” He cusses again. You decide you like when he curses, especially if you’re the reason. He moves his hips and his cock finds the same spot his fingers found earlier and you clench around him as you let out a deep groan.
You lose track of time, it moves at a snail’s pace, but also at the speed of light. Time ceases to exist to you, your world shrinks down to only the two of you, everything else falls away. And then you’re falling again, diving headfirst into an orgasm.
“Yes, yes. I love feeling you like this. Oh my god… oh fuck. I’m gonna –” he sputters.
You reach up and pull his lips to yours, kissing him through his own orgasm. He shakes above you as he pumps into you with a final harsh push. And then when he peaks, he slowly fucks into you through his orgasm. He continues to kiss you until both of your breathing returns to normal and then he lifts his head to look at you.
He smiles and you can’t help it when a huge toothy smile appears on your own face.
“Are you okay?” He inquires.
“I’m perfect.”
His hand reaches up and caresses the side of your face. “You are.”
The next morning you walk into the office still smiling. Everyone is around the desks, including Spencer. He glances over at you and nods in greeting, as if you hadn’t just said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the first golden rays of dawn streaming through your bedroom window.
“Good morning.” You say to everyone. You set your go bag down at your desk and Emily smiles over at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Oh, Morgan. You had it all wrong.” She teases.
Morgan looks at Emily and then over to you. “What?”
“That is the look of a woman who got it real good last night.” Emily laughs, loud and brash. You smile with her and Penelope gasps.
“Tell. Me. Everything.” She runs over to you and grabs onto your arm.
“I have no idea what you mean.” You reply innocently.
JJ smirks. “Oh, she got it real good last night.”
“Is sex all you guys think about?” You joke. The girls laugh and Morgan still seems confused. Spencer is focused on the file on his desk, but his finger isn’t moving down it and you know he isn’t reading it. “I had a good night last night.” You give a small inch, just to stave them off. Penelope squeals. You grab her hand. “And that’s all I’ll say about it.”
“Boo!” Emily exclaims.
Penelope almost pouts. “Oh, you are the worst!”
“I know!” You laugh gleefully. Spencer looks up for only a split second, but you catch it and he smiles at you.
“I’ll find out eventually. You do know that, right?” Penelope warns.
“You are terrifying.” You squeeze her arm and turn away from the group to start on your mountain of files. It’s true that eventually everyone would probably find out about you and Spencer, but for now the two of you get to live in your own personal world. You smile to yourself.
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife @ingrid69rs @sobbingcryingattsizzles @infinitegalaxiesworld
author's note: this was supposed to be mutual masturbation, but I wasn't feeling it, so I switched it to begging. Thank you again for everyone reading and supporting. 💕💕💕 If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know! 🎃🎃🎃
summary: Spencer can't help but be upset with the choice you made, so he takes out his frustration in your hotel room later.
warnings: female reader, dom!spencer, begging, a little bit of 'good girl', hand job, fingering, female receiving oral, multiple orgasms
word count: 3.6k
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
His eyes flick over to you, and you can read him like a book. The anger and frustration battle across his features as he opens his mouth to argue against your suggestion. You speak before he can, “I know this is dangerous, but I trust all of you to keep me safe. We have to do this.” Spencer slams his mouth shut and forcefully turns his head from you. Your stomach drops, but you know you’re making the right decision. This case will be over in a couple of hours, and then you can talk this out with him, and everything will be fine.
If anyone notices Spencer’s reaction, they don’t say anything. Instead, most of the team looks at you with worried expressions. Hotch is assessing you, his arms crossed tight over his broad chest. “This guy is erratic and unpredictable.” He says in his calm and calculated tone.
“He’s going to attack tonight. We know that this vigil is going to draw him. He can’t resist it. All I need to do is distract him long enough for you to move in.” You explain rationally. “We can’t allow more people to die, and I’m the only one who hasn’t been identified as an agent by the media.”
You refuse to break eye contact with Hotch. You steady your breathing and straighten your shoulders. You’re confident in this choice, and Hotch knows you won’t back down. He nods, “okay.”
“Okay?” Spencer interjects, his voice breaking slightly from his heightened emotion. “You can’t be serious, Hotch.”
“This is her choice.” Hotch answers, and everyone in the room seems to hold their breath as they wait for you to reply.
Hotch clears his throat, “let’s get started. We’ve got four hours until the vigil.”
You level your gaze at Spencer, trying to telepathically tell him you’re sorry. “I have to do this.” Spencer’s jaw sets hard. You see the muscles flex against each other. He turns away from you and leaves the room.
“He’s just worried. We all are.” Emily reaches out for you and rubs a comforting hand up and down your arm. You nod.
You don’t see Spencer again until you’re in the SUV five blocks away from the site of the vigil. Morgan had spent the entire ride over repeating the plan to you and making sure you understood exactly where everyone else was going to be. You kept nodding and letting him start over again because you knew that this was how Morgan made himself feel better about the situation. Before he got out of the vehicle, he had reached over to the passenger seat and grasped your shoulder. “You’re brave. And you’re damn good at your job. We’ll catch this bastard.”
Now you’re alone, glancing at the watch on your wrist. In ten minutes, you’re going to get out of the car and walk toward the vigil. It’s chilly enough that you have a jacket on, and it doesn’t even look like you’re wearing a vest underneath your clothing. You let out a shaky breath and try to calm your nerves.
You jump when the passenger door swings open and you reach for your holster automatically. “It’s me.” Spencer says, and you take your hand away.
“You’re supposed to already be at the vigil.” You mutter and look straight ahead out the windshield because you can’t look at him. You can’t handle seeing any sort of anger on his face.
“I know.” He says your name, and you turn to face him. The anger in his eyes has dissipated, and only fear remains.
“Spencer, I’ll be –” You start, but you’re interrupted by his hands grabbing the side of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. It’s forceful and meaningful, and your hands find a tight grip on his shoulders. The two of you say goodbye to each other with your lips and tongues, neither one of you wanting to break apart, to face reality.
Finally, he pulls away from you and sets his hands on your shoulders. “Be safe. Please.”
You incline your head toward his, connecting your forehead to his. “I will.”
He kisses you again, with less force, but with the same meaning, and then steps away and closes the car door. You watch as he walks down the alley until he completely disappears. And then a few minutes later, you get out and walk the opposite direction down the alley.
Your hotel room is dark, and only the lights on the nightstand work, but you’re too exhausted to complain. After wrapping the case, Hotch had told everyone to head to the hotel for a few hours, and you would fly out in the morning. No one argued because you hadn’t even seen your hotel room since landing.
You’ve taken a shower, changed into pajamas, and started to get comfortable in bed when there’s a knock on your door. You climb out of bed and look through the peephole to see Spencer standing in the hallway. Quickly, you open the door and step aside for him to come inside. As soon as you shut the door and turn around, he has his hands on you, your waist, your hips, shaky hands traveling across your skin.
“I’m okay, Spencer. Not even a scratch. I’m fine.” You reassure him with a calm and steady voice. He doesn’t stop his hands and won’t look you in the eyes, so you reach out for him. Your own hands hold onto both sides of his face and force him to look into your eyes. “I’m fine.” You repeat.
He swallows and nods and blinks away the tears that were gathering in his eyes. “Don’t do that again, please.”
You know you can’t promise that, but you also know that Spencer doesn’t want to hear that right now. “Okay.” He kisses your cheek. “Okay.” He kisses your other cheek and then your forehead and, finally, your lips. His hands on your hips pull you tighter against him like he can’t have you close enough, like he wants the two of you to merge together as one person. Your hands move up into his hair, fingers tangling into soft locks, nails scratching against his scalp. His moan vibrates against your lips, and he deepens the kiss. His grip on your hips is vice-like. You groan into his mouth.
He mumbles your name, and you answer with a moan, suddenly desperate for every part of him. The stress of the day comes to a head, and you just want your mind to go blank. Spencer is the only person who can make your brain stop its constant ruminations.
“Please, Spencer.” You urge him with your words, but also a quick movement of your hips against him. You move your hands away from his hair and down the back of his neck toward his clavicle and then start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt.
You only get one button undone before he says, “stop.” He breaks away from your lips, and his hands wrap around both of your wrists and pull your hands off of his shirt. When you look into his eyes, the anger is back, not as fiery and passionate as it was hours before but low and simmering just below the surface. “You think you just get what you want after that?”
His voice is heavy with emotion, and it zings straight to your lower belly. You want to smile, but press your lips together instead and shake your head.
“Answer me.”
“No.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t give you anything tonight, huh?” He moves one of your wrists into his other hand so that he has both of them wrapped in one hand. The hand that's now free moves to your neck, a finger trailing down to your clavicle. You swallow against it. “I should leave this room right now. Leave you all alone and so needy.”
You swallow again. “Spencer, please.”
He lifts your wrists above your head and pushes you up against the door of the hotel room in rapid succession. You let out a sharp gasp at the movement. “Please, what? What do you want?” His other hand has found another place back on your hip, gripping it, his thumb rubbing back and forth on a bit of skin peeking out from your old Academy t-shirt.
“Please don’t leave.” You whisper. The hand on your hip slides underneath your shirt and up your stomach toward your breasts. His fingertips are barely there against your skin, enough to make your skin tingle, and goosebumps bloom, but not enough to satiate any need for his touch.
He drags one of his fingers across the underside of your breast, and your hands twitch in his grasp above your head. He twists his grip and tightens it.
The hand near your breast spreads across your breast and grabs it. You arch your back into his touch. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”
“Yes. I need it.” You don’t even attempt to play coy and press your thighs together, trying to get any sort of relief between them.
Spencer ducks his head against your exposed neck and kisses it roughly, nips at it without leaving a mark, and then licks and soothes where his teeth nibbled. “Are you going to listen?”
You nod before realizing that you need to answer verbally. “Yes. Yes. I will. I promise.”
He laughs against your neck. His breaths on your skin make you press your thighs tighter together. “You’re going to do as you’re told.” It isn’t a question.
“Yes.” You confirm.
His lips find yours again, and the hand up your shirt tightens on your breast, his thumb finding your nipple, teasing it back and forth. He kisses you slowly, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and then racing to brush his tongue against it. A constant tug of war between a ping of pain and a rush of comfort. You take all of it, anything he is willing to give you, you want all of it.
When his thumb and pointer finger takes your nipple and rolls it between a pinch of his fingers, you let out a desperate noise.
“Spencer.”
He makes a deep noise from the back of his throat but doesn’t stop kissing you or pinching your nipple. A pulse all of its own begins in your core, fluttery and demanding.
“I’ll do anything, please.” He bites at your clavicle, the only place he’s marked you so far because he knows it will be covered by your shirt in the morning.
“You’re going to leave your hands above your head, do you understand?” He finally instructs.
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to touch me.”
“Spencer,” you start to protest, but you look into his eyes and stop yourself.
“You touch me, and I stop. Do you understand?”
You swallow. “Yes.”
“Good.” He goes back to your neck, teasing and tasting your skin, driving you crazy with want. But you don’t dare move. If he pulls away completely now and leaves, you think you might lose your mind.
In between his soft bites, he instructs, “I’m going to let go of your wrists, okay? But you’re not going to move them. Leave them exactly where they are. And then I’m going to get on my knees and make you come as many times as I want. But if you touch me at all, I’m going to go back to my hotel room and leave you here all alone. Okay?”
“Okay.” You nod feverishly. He lets go of your wrists, and you don’t move a muscle.
He smiles smugly and pinches your nipple one last time before sliding down to his knees in front of you. His fingers graze up the back of your calves and thighs and then to the front of your thighs. He pushes your legs apart, and you lean back further on the door for support as he pulls down your pajama pants, leaving your underwear on.
“Look at you,” he tuts. “Soaking through your panties just from a couple of kisses.”
You let out a frustrated breath. “It was more than a couple kisses.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and you slam your mouth shut. “Are you going to waste my time? Talking back with that smart mouth?”
“No.”
“I can think of better uses for that mouth. You can’t talk back with my cock down your throat, can you?”
You swallow harshly, and you feel yourself getting wetter. “No, I can’t.”
He leans forward, and you hold your breath, waiting, but he kisses your inner thigh instead. And then he starts the same pattern of kissing and nipping he’d done earlier, but now on your thigh. His hands are on your ass, massaging and rubbing. As he moves to your other thigh, he makes a point to incline toward the place you need him so desperately, but he only exhales across it. You whimper, and you feel the turn of a smile on his lips as he presses into your thigh.
It is basically torture, and it’s taking every single ounce of self control you have not to grab his head and put him exactly where you want him. You know you can’t, so you beg instead, “please, Spencer. I can’t take the teasing anymore.”
“Aw, my poor baby.” He taunts, and you grunt when he pulls away completely and removes his hands. He sits back on his heels and looks up at you. “Take off your shirt.”
You do what he asks rapidly and then put your hands back above your head without him asking. He smiles, “good girl.”
The room is dim, shadows play across his face, but he watches you as you breathe, your breasts rising and falling. He lifts hands and presses his palms up your stomach and then back down, causing more goosebumps springing up across your skin, toward your core, but he bypasses it and travels down your thighs instead. “I think you’ve ruined these panties, baby.” He laughs, mesmerized by the growing wet spot. Your clit is throbbing and you feel like you could fall apart with only one single touch from him.
“What would you do if I stopped now?” He wraps his hands across your thighs and squeezes and then looks up to your eyes. “Stood up and walked out of this room?”
You would probably spend the rest of your night touching yourself until you couldn’t handle it, but you don’t want that. “Please don’t.” You reply instead. “Please touch me, Spencer.”
He squeezes your thighs again. “I am touching you.”
You groan, frustrated. “Touch my pussy, please. I need it.” You give in. He can’t help his smile as he moves one hand over slightly and uses his thumb to touch the wet spot on your underwear. He presses into you over the fabric. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, but you moan anyway because you’re so desperate.
He presses deeper, wetting his thumb through the fabric, and then moves it upward, finally rubbing over your throbbing clit. You let out a shaky breath and lean forward slightly. His thumb rubs up and down on your clit lightly, practically a feather-like touch. He doesn’t use any pressure on it. You move your hips forward, trying to force some pressure, but just pulls away.
“Spencer.” You whimper.
He laughs, “so whiney.” He puts his thumb back and continues in the exact same way as before. You lean back fully back on the door with a small cry. “Do you want to come?” He asks.
You screw your eyes shut and nod furiously.
“Open your eyes and answer me.”
You force your eyes open. “I want to come, please, Spencer.” You try to get rid of the whine in your voice, but you don’t succeed.
“Yeah, I can tell you do.” He uses just a little more pressure on your clit and begins to circle it. You shiver and let out a pitiful moan. “So needy. So desperate.” He mutters and leans forward to kiss along your thigh again. Your hips buck against him involuntarily. “You can come whenever you want, baby.”
“I need more.”
“No.” He kisses your thigh again and looks up to your eyes. “You come from this.” You curl your toes on the floor and push your head back. “I’ll give you more when you come.” His thumb continues its barely enough circles on your clit and you exhale. “Don’t you want more?”
“Yes!” You huff.
“Then come.” He nips your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your clenching pussy, but never actually reaching it. His other hand moves back to your ass and he kisses your other thigh. You can feel the deep pleasure at the base of your spine and you give yourself over to it. “That’s it, so good, baby. Come just like this.”
You come hard and force your hands to stay above your head, your hips bucking against Spencer’s hand. He moves his hand from your ass and holds onto your hip to stay your movements. Once you come down from your high he pulls down your underwear and sticks his thumb into your pussy.
“You're dripping, baby.” He murmurs and fingers you for a few seconds until swiping the thumb back up to your clit. You’ve barely had time to recover from your first orgasm and you let out a small breathy shout. “Ssshh, we can’t let anyone else hear how needy you are.”
You bit your lip to contain your whimpers. Spencer’s thumb circles your clit, using the pressure you need. Another wave of pleasure is already rising, gathering low in your belly. “Do you want my fingers, baby?”
“Please. Spencer. Yes. I need them. Please.” You ramble.
He takes the hand that’s on your hip and inserts his middle and ring fingers into you, immediately pressing into you, rubbing against the spot inside you that makes you want to scream. You swallow the shout that you can’t let out and instead continue to ramble to Spencer. Your legs shake as you give into another wave of pleasure.
“That’s it, give me another one. So good, baby.” You come against his hand again, but this time Spencer doesn’t let you come down from it. Instead, he moves the hand off your clit and grips your hip to hold you in place as his mouth replaces his hand. You ride his tongue through the aftershocks of your orgasm and let the next wave begin to crest. His fingers never falter as he fingers you. He pulls away for only a split second, “touch me.”
Your hands fall from the door instantly and tangle in his hair, grasping and scratching, finally getting to push him harshly into you. He moans against you, sending vibrations up your body. You come one more time with a small shout, as quiet as you can. Your legs are shaky and unstable, but Spencer holds you tightly as he takes his time licking you clean.
When he stands up to his full height, you pull him into a kiss and then lower your hands down to his belt. He breaks the kiss, “I don’t have a condom.”
You kiss him and continue to take off his belt. “I don’t care.” You get his belt undone, unbuckle his pants, and reach in to take him in your hand. He’s unbelievably hard. The feeling of him is so heavy in your hand.
He puts his hands on your shoulders as he takes a shuddering breath. “You should care. We haven’t talked about this yet. And you’re in the heat of the moment.” He rationalizes.
You stick out your bottom lip because you know he’s right. “Can we talk about it later? Cause I want you, all of you.” You squeeze the base of him. His eyes flutter shut and then flip back open as he licks his bottom lip.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk about it.” Then he kisses you again as you pump your hand up and down on him, your thumb swiping at his leaking head. “Oh shit. Don’t stop.” He stutters against your lips. His kisses are sloppy and nothing like his calculated kisses earlier, but you don’t care. He’s pumping his hips into you, so completely lost in the feeling of your hand on him.
It doesn’t take long until he’s moaning into your mouth, “so good. You’re so good,” he rambles. One of his hands reaches for your hair and pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. You bite your bottom lip, and he comes in his pants with a harsh grunt.
He kisses you, and you keep moving your hand until he’s hissing from sensitivity and pulling away from you.
The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you back into a deep kiss until you're both breathless. You subtly wipe your hand on his underwear because they’re already a mess, and then both hands hold onto his waist until his kisses slow down.
“I’m sorry for being angry.” He finally says.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I guess today, technically. But at home, I mean.” He looks into your eyes, searching.
He nods. “Okay.” And he kisses you again, light and feathery. “I need to go clean up before we leave.”
Your fingers play with the edge of his pants. “Or you could stay, and I could clean you up.” You offer with a not so innocent smile.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He kisses you chastely and pulls away. He looks around for your shirt and pants and then helps you get dressed again. “See you on the jet.”
You step away from the door and let him leave. In a few hours, you’ll have to board the jet and pretend that the genius profiler on your team didn’t just give you three mind blowing orgasms, so for now you allow yourself to watch him walk down the hotel hallway. He scrambles to buckle his belt as he walks and then runs a hand through his hair, clearly flustered. You go back into your room with a smile.
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife
author's note: first of all, I've been so overwhelmed with the amount of support I've received so far on my first post. Truly, it means the world to me, so thank you! 💖💖💖Also, I've started a tag list for kinktober. If you would like to be added, please reply to one of my posts or message me!
summary: after injuring yourself, you've been forced to stay home from a case and you miss Spencer more than you'd like to admit. Lucky for you, he's missing you just as much.
warnings: female reader, masturbation, guided masturbation, horny ramblings, a little bit of spencer dominance, dirty talk
word count: 2.8k
this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
Your apartment was spotlessly clean. You’d spent almost the whole day organizing and scrubbing and even rearranging furniture. You hadn’t been able to sit still all day, distracted and bored at the same time.
While on the last case a few days ago, you had sprained your ankle pretty bad. At least bad enough that Hotch had basically forced you to take a few days of leave. You argued that you could work the current case from the office with Garcia, but he’d simply leveled his ‘this isn’t up for discussion’ look at you, and you shut your mouth. Reid had offered to drive you home and then spent the entire night pampering you and not even letting you lift a finger. Then he had to leave for this case, and you were alone. Which had been okay while your ankle throbbed, but now your ankle was perfectly fine, and you were dying being stuck at home.
You were restless, but nothing you did helped. And now you’re frustrated.
You bite down on your bottom lip as you try to think of literally anything else you can do to keep your mind busy. Your eyes fall onto the clock hanging on the wall, and you notice that it’s almost midnight.
There’s barely a slim chance that he’ll pick up, but you grab your cell phone anyway and call Spencer. It rings for several seconds until his automated voicemail picks up. A sigh falls from your lips.
“Hey, Spencer. It’s me. I know you’re busy. I just – I just miss you.” You sigh again and feel slightly annoyed at how pitiful you sound. But it’s true.
It’s been hard to sleep since he’s gone, both because you’ve realized you spend too much time worrying about him and because the bed feels so empty without his long limbs taking up an unfair amount of space. You miss laying on the couch with your feet tucked under his thigh as you both read in comfortable quietness. And you hate how empty your apartment feels without him here. “Anyway, stay safe. And I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”
You hang up the phone and slump onto the couch with a groan. After a few minutes of trying to read, you give up and decide to take a shower and head to bed. You toss your cell phone onto your bed as you take off your clothes and grab a towel. In the bathroom, you turn on the shower, and as you wait for the water to warm up, you glance at the mirror.
You see your naked body, the body that Spencer spends so much time worshiping. Your hands graze up your thighs, remembering how his hands grab onto them when he holds you pressed against his mouth as his tongue brings you to orgasm after orgasm. You continue your journey upwards across your stomach where he presses kisses and murmurs how much he loves you, to your breasts where he licks and nips and takes your nipple in between his teeth.
A warmth begins to gather low in your belly, and you feel the beginning twinges of need in your core. Quickly, you blink away the images of Spencer and drop your hands to the cool counter of the sink. You take a few deep breaths as you lean against the counter.
In the shower, you can’t help it when your hands caress your skin, paying special attention to your breasts. You moan out loud alone and realize why you’ve been so restless today. There’s a slight blush coloring your cheeks at the understanding. You rush through the rest of your shower and dry off with the towel so you can throw back the comforter of your bed and settle into the freshly cleaned sheets.
You start to rub your thighs, massaging and focusing on the sensation against your skin. With your eyes closed, an image of Spencer emerges, leaning over you, touching you. No, now he’s lying next to you, he’s breathing against your neck right after he kisses below your ear, and his hands leave your thighs and travel across your stomach. Just the fingertips, almost tickling, raising the anticipation, and he smiles when you take a sharp intake of breath before he reaches your breasts. Your hands are smaller than his, so it isn’t exactly the same sense of pleasure, but it works for now.
If he was here, Spencer would be kissing your neck, so gingerly, and then he’d laugh lightly against your skin when you’d squirm impatiently. But since he isn’t here, you don’t have to tease. Release was only a few minutes away. Your fingers gather the wetness at your core and glide upward toward your clit.
Instantly, you sigh at the contact and begin leisurely circles on the sensitive bud as your imaginary Spencer looks into your eyes. He would lean down to kiss your lips, just as slowly as his fingers moved on you, his tongue teasing your lips, but never giving himself over to you fully. Not yet. You moan his name and speed up your fingers.
The pleasure rises deep within you, your hips moving in tandem with your fingers, and you apply just a little more pressure. Another sharp intake of breath, and you can tell you’re close.
Your phone rings. You freeze your motions, unaware of your surroundings for a split second, but then you force your eyes open and scramble off the bed. The ringtone is somewhere in the room, but you can’t remember where you left your phone.
The phone rings incessantly as though it’s mocking you as you feverishly search for it. When you pull the comforter off the bed harshly, a loud clang on the floor confirms the phone’s location. You grab it and answer breathlessly, “hello.”
“Why are you out of breath?” Spencer asks on the other end, a thousand or so miles away.
You press a hand to your sweaty forehead and then push sticky strands of hair off of it. “Oh, I was in the shower, and I heard the phone ringing in the bedroom.” You lie even though Spencer is a genius profiler and would most likely see right through it. But the idea of admitting to him that you were touching yourself to the thought of him made your stomach do somersaults.
There is a small pause before he replies, “I’m sorry for interrupting your shower.”
“I was done. It’s fine.” You chew on your bottom lip.
“Oh, good. I got your message.”
“I’m sorry for bothering you.” You sit on the edge of the bed.
“Don’t apologize. It was nice to hear your voice.” His words make your heart flutter. “I miss you.”
You sigh, “I miss you too,” and lie back horizontal across the bed, your feet dangling off the edge.
“I’ll be home tomorrow. We wrapped up the case about an hour ago, but there’s a bad thunderstorm, and flights were grounded.” You picture him alone in a hotel room holding his cellphone up to his ear, his long body across the bed.
“How was the case?”
“I’d rather talk about you. How was your day?”
You turn on your side so you can fiddle with the top sheet that was left askew by all of your frantic movements earlier. “Nothing exciting.”
“And how’s your ankle?”
“Perfectly fine. Not even sore.”
“I’ll see about that. Don’t think I won’t take a look at it tomorrow.”
“You’re not a medical doctor, Spencer.” You roll your eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. He laughs lightly.
There is a soft silence between the two of you for a few moments. It isn’t awkward but comforting. Almost as if he’s lying beside you and the two of you are simply resting in the presence of each other. “What were you really doing before I called?” He inquires.
You smile. He’s too smart for his own good. “Exercising,” you quip.
“The kind of exercise that requires your hand between your legs.”
“Spencer!” You gasp.
He laughs again, and you wish he was next to you because you’d kiss the laugh off his lips. “Am I wrong?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m a profiler.”
“No, really tell me,” you demand. Profiling isn’t a magic trick, and Spencer isn’t a psychic.
“I guessed.” You roll your eyes because you can see his face in your mind, the sly almost smug smile and the eyes full of amusement.
“Bullshit.”
“No, truly. I figured you missed me just as much as I missed you.” His voice lowers to almost a whisper, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “That you’ve been thinking about me just as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”
“You’ve been thinking about me?” You murmur.
“I can’t get you out of my head. It’s quite distracting, to be completely honest.”
“Me? Distracting the brilliant Dr. Reid?” You ask innocently.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core.
“Tell me.” You repeat your earlier demand, your hand rubbing mindless patterns across your skin.
“I’m hard just from hearing your voice. It’s taking everything in me to not to unbuckle my pants and fuck into my hand like I’d fuck into you.”
You can’t help but bite your lip at his words because it’s rare for him to curse like that. “Do it.”
“Only if you do it too. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you touch yourself and make yourself come just from my voice.”
“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, your hand traveling lower.
He hums low and deep in the back of his throat. “You’re already doing it aren’t you, sweetheart? Couldn’t even wait for me to undo my belt. Needed it that bad, didn’t you?”
“I need it.”
You’re about to reach your aching center when he makes a quick tutting sound. “Don’t touch yourself yet.” You instantly pull your hand away. “Go get your earbuds and connect them to your phone. I want to be right in your ear, and I want both of your hands free.”
You comply quickly, putting in your earbuds and then laying back down on your bed. You set your phone beside you. “I’m ready.”
“Are you? What are you ready for?” He teases. He wants you to vocalize exactly what you want even though it makes you blush or maybe because it makes you blush. He wants it despite not being here to see it.
“To touch myself.”
“And?”
“To make myself come from just your voice.”
“Good…” he starts, but you have one more thing to add.
“And I want to hear you come too, baby.”
In the distance, you can hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it and the shuffling of him taking off his pants. “I’ll do anything for you.” You settle into the bed, anticipation buzzing across your skin. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. Close your eyes and just focus on my voice and your breathing. Take a deep breath for me. And let it go, just like that. Where do you need me most, sweetheart?”
“Everywhere.” You answer instantly.
“No, baby, I know, but focus for me. Where is that ache? Where do you need me to touch you?”
You take a deep breath. “My breasts.” Your entire body is aching with want, but your breasts are desperate to be touched.
“I want so badly to touch you, I wish I was there. I want to put your breasts in my hands. Do that for me, please.” You do as he asks, kneading your breasts. “Open your mouth, baby, and take one of your fingers and get it wet. Now play with your nipple, tease it, circle it.”
You moan as you tease yourself. “Yes. I want to hear you, tell me how good it feels. Show me how much you miss me.”
“I need you, Spencer.” You groan as you lightly pinch your nipple.
“I know, I know. I need you too.” On the other end of the phone, you can hear the sounds of him touching himself, slowly. He’s teasing himself just as much as he’s teasing you. “When I get home to you, I’m going to show you just how much I need you. I’m going to make you come with my fingers. With my tongue. Over and over again. And then I’ll finally give you my cock, just when you think you’ve had enough. And I’ll make you come one more time on my cock. Is that what you want, baby?”
Your back arches off the bed, still playing with your breasts and nipples. “Yes, oh my god. I want it so bad.”
“How bad, honey? Tell me, is your pussy dripping for me? ‘Cause you need me that bad.”
Your dominant hand moves to your core, and you feel how soaked you are. “Yes. Yes. I need you. I’m so wet.”
“Touch your clit, baby. Slow, do it slow for me at first. You know, just like I would.”
Even though your eyes are already closed, you squeeze them closed tighter when you make contact with your clit. It’s practically throbbing and you exhale a sharp breath. “Oh my god, Spencer. I can’t. I need –”
“Slow, yes you can. Take a deep breath, focus on my voice.”
An uncontrolled moan escapes your throat, but you do as he says. You concentrate on his breaths over the phone, and you match yours to his. Then you match the rhythm of your hand to the sound of his as he ruts into his hand. You listen to his grunts and whimpers, both of you racing toward a needed release.
He lets out a guttural sound. “Do you feel empty? Do you need to be filled?”
“So bad, so bad.”
“I’d fill you so good if I was there.” He groans, and you hear him lose his rhythm for a second as his hips falter. “Slip one of your fingers in. But with your other hand. I need you to keep rubbing that beautiful clit.”
As you slowly push one finger into you, he continues to ramble. “I wish I was there to taste you. You taste so good, baby. I love how gorgeous you look when I’ve got my mouth on you. The way you grind your clit against my tongue because you’re so needy. So desperate to come.”
Your finger pumps faster into you, the need and pleasure climbing higher within you as you buck your hips in time with the movement of your hands. You’re breathless, but you tell Spencer, “I’m so desperate.”
“I know you are.” He groans. “Do you know how bad I need it too? Can you add another finger for me, baby? Fill yourself even more.” You clench against your two fingers. He’s panting into the phone, and you can picture the way his hair would be stuck to his forehead as he pounded into you, completely lost in the feeling of you squeezing him.
“I’m gonna come, baby.” You gasp out. You feel like you have no control over your body as though Spencer was completely in control even though it’s your fingers frantically stroking.
“Are you? Are you going to make yourself come all over your fingers?”
“Yes, I have to. I –”
“Yeah, you do. You’re doing so well. I need to hear you come. I need to hear you be so good for me. Coming all over your fingers, all by yourself. But you’re thinking of me aren’t you?”
“Yes… yes. Always.”
“I can make you come so hard even when I’m not there. And you’re going to make a mess, a beautiful, perfect mess as you finish.” You moan loudly. “That’s it. Just like that.” He’s groaning and muttering, and you know he’s close too. “I wish I was coming in you, feeling you clench around me. And I’d rub that needy clit of yours, your nails would be scratching against my skin because you just can’t help yourself. Please come, baby. I need it.”
You come with his name on your lips, your body clenches and shakes, and you listen closely to his climax. He lets out a shaky breath after a few moments. “I love you.” He says, and you hate that you can’t kiss him.
“I love you too.” Your breathing slowly returns to normal.
“Are you okay?” He checks in with you, and you smile as you roll onto your side and settle deeper into the bed, suddenly very tired.
“I’m great. Are you?” You yawn.
“Yes. Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
“Come home soon.”
“I’m coming home to you as soon as I possibly can. I can’t be apart from you like this.”
“Neither can I. Talk to me until I fall asleep?”
“Of course. Anything for you.”
tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx
summary: You've been secretly hooking up with your coworker Spencer for two months. He notices something about you and wants to try something new. (I personally imagined circa season 10 Reid, but you do you bestie 😘)
warnings: praise, lots of 'good girls', oral [m/f both receiving and giving], light dom behavior, finger sucking, piv, safe sex practices, and a little bit of begging
word count: 3.1k (this one got away from me a little bit oops)
this is adult content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!
You had never wanted to be one of those people, a girl with a huge crush on her coworker, but then you’d meet Spencer Reid. A year ago, you’d waved at him instead of shaking his hand when Hotch had introduced the two of you, and you’d felt the first flutter of butterflies. You had tried desperately to ignore your feelings, but the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. And then, about two months ago, you’d become another cliche. The girl who was sneaking around and secretly hooking up with her coworker.
Now you were trying to avoid touching your knee against his as you sat on the plane on the way home from a case. The last time you’d simply accidentally brushed your hand against his, it had been like an electrical shock between the two of you. So it is just easier to avoid touching at all costs while in the presence of your other coworkers.
The words in the book that you’re holding in your hands are absolute gibberish as you can’t focus on anything except the way Spencer’s hands glide over the page of notes he’s re-reading. You've always known he has captivating hands, but now you know intimately just how capable those hands were. This case was long, and before that, Spencer had been at a conference for four days. He hasn’t touched you in almost a week, and you’re becoming impatient. But you both had wisely made the promise that as long as you were on clock, so to say, you were only coworkers and nothing more.
You look up as you hear him say your name.
“Would you mind reading over this? I’m not sure it makes any sense.” He hands you his leather bound notebook. You place your book on your lap and look over into his eyes.
“Me? I really don’t think I’m the person who…”
Spencer interrupts you, “I trust your opinion.” It’s a simple statement, but it sets your skin aflame all the same. To hide your reaction, you focus on reading Spencer’s notes.
“I think it’s great, Spencer. But you’re presenting this to college students, so I think it would be beneficial to use examples they may have heard in the news or at least know ‘cause of the insane amount of Netflix documentaries.” You roll your eyes as you mention the oversaturation of true crime television. But then suddenly you feel self-conscious and hand back his notebook. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s just a small idea.”
“No, it’s insightful. You’re brilliant.” You can feel your skin heat in embarrassment, not comfortable with the compliment. Compliments often make you uneasy and you don’t know why. Well, that’s not entirely true, but you didn’t feel like profiling yourself to better understand this aspect.
Spencer’s eyes observe you, and you watch as his tongue slips out and wets his bottom lip as he thinks. “I mean it.” He emphasizes.
“Thank you,” you say quietly.
“Good girl.” The words glide from Spencer’s mouth almost absent-mindedly and barely audible as he returns to his work. If he notices how much deeper your blush becomes, he doesn’t say anything. And you pretend you didn’t even hear him, or else you might make a fool of yourself.
Several hours later, you’re finally back at your apartment and getting into pajamas. As you pull a tank top over your head, you allow your mind to think about Spencer.
Good girl.
He said it so flippantly, practically under his breath. Did he even mean for you to hear it? Did he know how it would make your heart hammer? You play it over again and again, letting yourself bask in the feeling.
There’s a knock on your door, so you quickly pull on an old pair of yoga pants and race to your door. A brisk glance through your peephole causes that all too familiar heart tremor. Dr. Spencer Reid at your door, as though you’d summoned him with your thoughts.
You swing open the door and let your eyes trail down his body.
“I meant it.” He says immediately.
“What do you mean?” You want to reach for him. He’s still dressed for work, and it takes everything in you not to wrap your fingers around his tie and pull him into your apartment.
“When I called you brilliant.” He replies casually.
“You came all this way to call me brilliant?”
He smirks. “No, I came all this way to do this,” as he talks he steps toward you.
You let a small breath of anticipation escape before he has his hands on either side of your face and is pressing his lips to yours. Your own hands find their way first to grasp at his waist and then around to his back, pulling him impossibly closer to you, desperate for the feel of his body against yours. The harsh sharp lines of him melding into the soft, lush curves of you.
He moves you further into your apartment, shuts your door, and then pushes you up against the cool wood of the door, all without pulling his lips away from yours. Goosebumps spring to life across your skin as your body tries to process the head spinning sensation of the warmth of his body, combining with the chill of the door against your back. His hands are in your hair, possessive and needy, and you moan into his mouth.
You feel the puffs of breath against your mouth as he laughs softly and then pulls away, his hands come to rest between your neck and shoulders. “I’ve missed you.”
A small smile curves your freshly kissed lips. “It’s been like two hours since I saw you.”
“I’ve missed being able to touch you.” He amends. The thumb of his right hand starts to move up and down the skin of your neck, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. His eyes search your face. “Did you like it when I called you a good girl?”
Your lips part as if to reply, but no words come out.
“Answer me.” He demands softly, his words are never harsh, but they still hold a sense of power.
“Yes. I liked it,” you admit.
He continues to watch you as his mind works, and then he makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “And would you like me to call you a good girl more often?”
Need and want pools low in your belly, but you take a second to wet your lips before answering. You want your voice to come across as strong and sure, so there is no question that you want this. “Yes, please.”
Your head is swimming in the overwhelming sensation of his lips back on yours in a matter of seconds. His hands explore your body, grazing and grasping onto your breasts before settling on your hips. He uses his knee to push your legs apart, and you move without resistance. A guttural moan breaks free from your throat as that same knee connects with the place that has been begging for friction since the moment Spencer put his hands on you.
Spencer breaks away from the kiss. “You’re so beautiful when you moan like that,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses, licks, and nips along your jaw and neck.
Your hips jerk involuntarily, but it instantly causes a wave of pleasure as you slide against him. “Do that again, baby.” You do as you’re told and again and again. His mouth continues across your clavicle, and then lower until his teeth scrape against one of your nipples over the fabric of your tank top. You gasp and push yourself closer to him, but he pulls away.
He lowers himself to the ground as he works to push down your yoga pants. As soon as you step out of them, the pants are thrown across the room, Spencer not bothering to pay attention. All of his attention is on you.
“Look at you, pretty girl.” His thumb traces over the damp spot in your underwear while his other hand travels up your leg, sending zaps of pleasure straight to your core.
“All for me?” His eyes flash up to yours.
“I’m yours,” you answer.
“That’s my good girl.” You twist your hands into his hair when his mouth makes contact with your still clothed pussy, his tongue swiping against you. He only teases you for a second before he can’t take it anymore and pulls down your underwear to be able to taste you without a barrier. The room fills with the obscene sounds of him lapping at your core as he lavishes praises on you in between licking and sucking. “So perfect, so goddamn perfect.”
You throw your head back with a deep moan.
Spencer continues, undisturbed. “Yes. Keep moaning for me. I want your neighbors to hear how good you are for me.” His tongue circles and caresses your clit. “Do you want my fingers inside of you? Tell me.”
“Yes, oh god. Fuck. Spencer.” You can’t think straight. The only thing your brain is capable of is focusing on how good you feel.
Spencer obliges your request and plunges two fingers into you. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “I can’t believe how wet you are. And you’re taking my fingers so good. I bet you’d take my cock even better.” He hooks his fingers and massages against the swollen pressure point inside you.
You lean forward over him, trying to keep your legs steady.
“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” You simply nod your head even though he can’t see with his face buried in your pussy. “You’re gonna come all over my face and my fingers because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
Your legs shake, but Spencer uses his free hand to hold onto your hip and hold you steady.
“It’s okay, you can let go. I’ve got you.” His fingers buried deep within you speed up and he focuses all of his attention on the pattern of his tongue against your clit, ramping up the building pleasure that’s threatening to bubble over. “You’ve made such a mess, a beautiful mess. Look at you, so good. So good.”
You clench around him. “Yes, that’s it. I want you to come. Just like that.” You jerk against his fingers and jaw as the pressure cascades and overflows inside you. His name is the only thing you can say in between your moans. “I love when you say my name when you come.” His fingers slow their pace, and his mouth becomes less frantic as he guides you through your orgasm and the small after-shocks.
When he finally pulls away completely, you watch slack-jawed as he takes his two fingers and puts them in his slick mouth, cleaning away traces of you. “Tasting you makes me so hard, I love it.” You lean back against the door with a smile.
“Do you want me to help with that?”
He laughs. “I’m not even close to finishing with you, my beautiful girl.” When he starts to reach for you, you grab onto his tie first and pull him closer. You work on his tie as you kiss his mouth, tasting the remnants of yourself.
In a matter of seconds, you have his tie off and thrown into the abyss, your shaking fingers focusing on unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes watch as you strip him of his shirt and then pull on his belt. But he can’t keep his hands off you, and they create a path over your skin. You undo the clasp, the tingling sound of metal like a beckoning call.
After taking off his belt and letting it drop to the floor, you also head toward the floor onto your knees. Spencer’s hand’s end up in your hair, and your hands travel up his thighs to the noticeable bulge in his pants. “Do you see what you do to me? Only you can make me this hard.”
You bite your bottom lip and work to take off his pants and underwear as he kicks off his shoes. Your eyes look up to his eyes, and he smiles at you. “Go on, I know you’re desperate for it.” One hand holds onto the base of him as your tongue circles the pink tip. He lets out a sharp breath at the contact.
You watch his reactions, flicking and teasing his head, gathering the stickiness of his precum on his tongue. Then you circle your lips around him and inch down, your hand sliding up and down on him to meet your mouth. His mouth is wide open as he watches you, the eye contact between the two of you almost overwhelming. Your body doesn’t seem to care that you just had an earth-shattering orgasm because you can feel the steady thrum of need building.
“Are you getting wet again just from sucking me off?” You nod and take him deeper in your mouth, the hand resting on his thigh feels a muscle twitch. “You have the perfect mouth.” His fingers in your hair pull slightly, not enough to cause pain, but just enough to cause you to moan on his dick.
“If you keep doing that I’m gonna come down that pretty throat.” You moan again, and he makes a low humming noise. “Is that what you want, sweet girl?”
You pull off of him, a string of spit following you, “yes.” You take both hands and twist and stroke up and down him with a smile on your messy lips.
“Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out flat. He takes his two fingers and sticks them in your mouth, and you instantly start to suck on them, never stopping the motion of your hands. “My perfect, beautiful girl.” He mutters and then pulls his fingers from your mouth. Before you can put your mouth back on him, he’s stepping away and then helping you stand up.
When you’re on your feet, he kisses you slowly, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth, and you reach down with one hand to continue to stroke him. He breaks the kiss and lightly guides you to turn around and bend over, using your hands to hold yourself up on the door. “You’re so good for me. Stay there.” You look over your shoulder and watch him find his pants to grab a condom. He quickly unwraps it and slides it on before returning to you.
He glides his hands over the back of your thighs and over your ass appreciatively, then squeezes your ass. “Are you going to take all of me?” The whispers tickling the back of your neck as he leans over you toward your ear, you shiver against him.
“Yes.”
He trails a hand down your spine as he pulls away and then helps you to set your legs further apart. You bite your lip, so ready for him, when he squeezes your hips. Both of you moan deeply as he guides himself into you, inching himself in until he’s seated completely. His hands are back on your hips, holding you in place. He leans forward and places a kiss on your back. He whispers in your ear again, “now you’re gonna be a good girl for me, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you you can. Do you understand?”
You nod swiftly.
He presses another kiss. “Words please, sweet girl.”
“I understand.”
He stands fully and slowly starts to pull himself out of you, dragging against every inch of your core. When he’s out fully, he pushes forward, again at that agonizing slow pace. You squirm against him, needing more. “You think you can take all of it, baby?”
“Yes. Yes. Please. Please.”
“You’re so beautiful begging for me.” You think he’s going to continue to tease you, but he doesn't. He starts to move faster and faster, building up a steady rhythm. Your nails scratch against the wood of your door. “That’s it, so good. I only ever feel this good with you. Only you can take my dick like this. You take it so perfect.” He gasps and rambles as he pumps into you.
The base of your spine zaps pleasure through your body and you shake on him.
“Don’t come yet, baby. Not yet. I could spend forever inside you.”
You feel your arms start to get weak, but Spencer holds so tight on you that you know that you’re stable. “I need to –” you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut.
“I know. I know. But you can wait, I know you can. Do you know how I know you can?”
You shake your head.
“Because you’re my good girl.” You press your lips together and moan. “Yeah, and you’re gonna wait until I tell you. And then you’re going to touch that swollen little clit of yours. It’s aching isn’t it.”
“Yes!” You practically shout. “Spencer, please.”
“Beg again.”
“Please. Spencer. Oh god, please. I need it. I need it.”
“Touch your clit, baby.” You cry out as soon as one of your hands makes contact. “You still can’t come, honey.”
You whimper, but try so hard not to give yourself over to the pleasure.
“You’re all mine, aren’t you.”
“Yes, yours all yours. Only yours forever.”
He bites out a harsh moan, and you know he’s trying just as hard as you to keep it together. “You look so pretty.” The words are just rambles, almost imperceptible. “Come for me. Come all over me.”
You do so instantly, Spencer tightens his grip on you to hold you steady as you lose yourself in the feeling. He comes with whimpers and sighs and deep grunts. When he finally stops moving, your legs are gelatinous, so he holds you tight against him, your back against his chest. He pulls out of you and then turns you around in his arms.
“You’re perfect.” He peppers light kisses across your face and lips and neck. “You did so good.” His hands are wrapped around you, both holding you steady but also keeping close to him. “I’m so proud of you.”
Your eyes flutter closed, and he kisses your lips fully. When he pulls away, you open your eyes and look up into his eyes. “Are you okay?” He checks in softly.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He kisses you again chastely. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Another kiss and his hands massage down your back and your hips, checking to see if you’re sore.
“I’m fine.” You answer before he can ask.
“Did you like that,” he asks earnestly.
“I loved it.”
He smiles brightly and you match it. “Are you hungry?”
