summary: while on a vacation in California with the team, Spencer and Reader get into an argument. Reid is being secretive, it’s blazing hot, and to make matters worse, the air conditioning won't work.
pairing: Fem!Reader x season 5 Spencer
word count: 7.5k
content warnings: mean dom!Spencer, jealous!Spencer, themes of possessiveness, unprotected penetrative sex, dd/lg kink, ice play (is that the name?), alcohol consumption, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), breeding kink, really dirty talk, aftercare, some angst.
A/N: uh so this one is pretty filthy. i got a lil carried away bc s5 Spence is so hot. it is pretty long, so i'm sorry about that haha. also, this concept is from this ask! thanks to the anon who sent that in-- you saved my inspiration-less ass.
masterlist
the crisp smell of ocean dances on your tongue when you swing open the door of the rental car. you can hear the sound of waves hitting sand; a breeze ruffles your hair. it's been sickeningly hot, but being near the water provides at least a small reprieve. you shield your eyes with the back of your hand and look around.
"not too shabby." you smile at the large beach house that you and the team rented. after a two week case that brought all of you close to the edge of insanity, Hotch practically ordered all of you to take a few days off. and once Penelope found out that there was an opening in your collective schedule, she was quick to plan a trip to California.
you're neutral on the location, but you heard the words "beach" and "relax" and agreed to join. plus, Spencer had already told her he had absolutely no plans for his days off, and you think it would be fun to spend time with your best friend.
it's been so long since you've hung out with him, what with your jobs taking priority. and since he was recently shot in the leg and has to get around with a cane all the time, you figured that he would probably be lounging anyway. which is exactly all you want to do.
"isn't it perfect?" Garcia says over the sound of the wind. she closes the driver's side door and you turn to see Spencer getting out of the backseat slowly, pushing his cane into the ground as leverage. he's brought his messenger bag with him, of course, which adds about twenty pounds of extra book weight.
"need some help, Doctor?" you tease Spencer as he adjusts the leather bag. he glares back.
"I'm fine."
"Pen, when do you think the others will get here?" you go to the trunk to grab your suitcase. she's brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes, trying to make sure the sparkly pink clips in them don't get messed up by the breeze.
"I'm guessing a couple of minutes. Emily drives slowly."
"no, you just drive fast," Spencer corrects as he gets his own bag out from the trunk. "you were going nine miles over the speed limit the whole time."
you look at Reid with an amused smile. leave it to him to notice that. Penelope pokes his arm. "I was speeding for a cause."
"oh, yeah? and what was the cause?" Reid grins. the three of you start making your way towards the house, hauling your suitcases behind you.
"much-needed rest and relaxation." she answers haughtily. you snicker to yourself.
"that'll hold up in court when you're on trial for hitting someone."
Spencer laughs and raises his hand for a high-five, which you take. it's not often that he gives them, but that makes it so much more fun. Penelope looks somewhat displeased, but all of that is forgotten once you've pulled your things up the porch of the beach house and watch her unlock the door.
the interior is large, with high ceilings that have fans circling lazily. the light from outside comes through the windows and casts an afternoon glow across casual furniture and shell decor. simple and suitable for the occasion.
the sounds of your shoes hitting tile floor echo around the house, accompanied by the slight click of Spencer's cane. you would offer to take his things for him, but you're pretty sure he'd hit you with it.
you try to be subtle as you edge your way to the hallway in the direction of the bedrooms, but your best friend meets your nervous eyes and narrows his own.
there's a moment of tense silence where you're both waiting to see what the other will do next. you could do the mature thing and wait for both of them to get settled before figuring out who gets which room.
or you could do the other thing. "I call master bedroom!" you call out, hurrying down the rows of doors and peeking inside which one to find the most spacious quarters.
"not fair!" he calls after you, soon catching up once you've peered inside all the options. there's one that is definitely the biggest, with a queen-size mattress and a flat-screen mounted on the wall opposite. you step inside.
"this is the one." you smile contentedly. Reid sidles up next to you.
"are you rooming with Rossi? because he's gonna want this one." he jokes. you make a face and nudge his shoulder.
"ew, shut up. if he wanted the master bedroom, he should have gotten here first."
"he's paying for the place." Spencer reminds you with the most annoying smile. you groan. he's right; Rossi insisted on funding this little getaway, so you're really not in a position to be calling the biggest room in the house.
as if summoned, the sound of the front door causes both of you to jump.
"looks like you beat us to it." the Italian himself calls. you can hear the chatter from Emily, Morgan, and JJ as they bring their things inside. you throw Spencer an irritated glance and hurriedly drag your suitcase back out of the room to go greet them.
guess you'll need to pick a space later.
...
the next day of your vacation is well-spent. the team spends their time doing nothing but fun stuff-- relaxing on the small private beach that came with the house, playing in the water, reading. Rossi brought some old case files to look through, which you find sort of counterintuitive. Spencer plays solitaire while sitting on the beach because he's not supposed to go swimming.
JJ, Morgan, Emily, Garcia, and you alternate for games of chicken and tossing around discs. it would be fun if Hotch was here, too, but he wanted to spend the time off with his son. you're not sure what he would even really do if he had come along. maybe more work stuff.
the sun is warm on your skin, and the water is the perfect temperature to keep you cool. after about an hour of horsing around in the waves, you flip onto your back and float. you forgot how much you love the ocean, water lapping at your body. it's weightless.
Garcia joins you after a bit, paddling over with a grin. "hi." she says enthusiastically.
"hey," you smile. "how does it feel to be unplugged?"
she thinks it over, tilts her head to the side before answering. "kind of weird. but like... weird in a good way."
"sometimes it's good to not be around that stuff." you agree, shifting so that you're treading water and speaking face-to-face.
"do you think Reid would have gotten in the water without the injury?" she glances at the genius sitting on the beach. he's wearing normal clothes and sunglasses, which is kind of strange to see. even when he's dressed casually, it's not vacation attire.
"hmm..." you trail off and stare at him. his hair has grown out recently, and it's blowing in the wind while he surveys the solitary card game before him. you wonder if he's bored right now; he must know every way to win at this point. he brushes a piece of hair behind his ear when you answer. "no."
"really?" she frowns.
"no way. he's kinda weird." you whisper the last part teasingly, and Penelope giggles.
"we should pick up some alcohol from the store for tonight."
you aren't really one to drink, but that sounds like a good time. a glass of wine might be kind of nice. "do you mean now?"
"yeah, why not? everyone's pretty much done with swimming." she points at JJ and Emily, who are sunbathing on their towels. Morgan's talking to Rossi while he dries off.
"sure." you swim towards shore together, enjoy for a few extra seconds the delicious coolness. you don't often get breaks like these, so you're going to sap up every single delightful moment that you possibly can.
the closest supermarket is about fifteen minutes away according to your maps app, but Penelope gets there in about ten. Spencer is sitting in the backseat again, reading a book and definitely choosing not to make any remarks about her speed. your gaze lifts to the rearview mirror to see his fingers rubbing absently at his chin, a focused frown on his face while his eyes move at record speed along the lines of his book.
he catches you in the mirror. "what?" he asks. although his intention wasn't to startle, you jump a bit in your seat.
"huh? nothing."
he gives you a funny look but goes back to reading. you aren't trying to gawk at him or anything, but sometimes you just find yourself doing it at the wrong times. there's something about the way Spencer moves that always draws your attention.
after collecting the opinions of everyone in the house, you decide to pick up some red wine, brandy, and fruits to use for sangria. the three of you split to find the things you need, but Penelope also gets some cheeses and snacks to eat along with the drinks.
you're browsing through a selection of reds when Spencer ends up next to you, his arms loaded with bags of apples and oranges.
"you do know that Rossi will probably refuse to drink this out of principle, right?" he cringes at the bottles. you roll your eyes sarcastically.
"you mean he won't be enthusiastic about supermarket wine?"
he chuckles, shakes his head, then turns his focus back to the alcohol. "what are you thinking?"
"well, contrary to popular belief, I'm actually not a connoisseur," you smile and pull a random one off the shelf. "but I think this is fine."
he frowns at the label. "you sure about that?"
"what's wrong with it?" you sigh.
"nothing, it's just..." he trails off in that way that he does when he knows something but doesn't want to be annoying by pointing it out-- except it always has the exact opposite result than intended.
"how about you choose, then, Spence?" you offer, too tired at this point to give him a hard time for his know-it-all tendencies. he doesn't even drink often, but of course he knows everything about red wine. because he's himself.
"okay." he plucks one off the shelf like he's been waiting to do so. he gives you the bottle, struggling to hold the fruits in his free arm. you watch with one raised eyebrow.
once he hands it over, you grab a second of the same variety and you're ready to go. you have no idea where Penelope is. she'll turn up at some point. she always does. Spencer follows behind you to the register.
you're still in your beach clothes, a thin white t-shirt over your swimsuit and a short pair of shorts to deal with the heat. the guy at the counter smiles brightly as you set down the items. Spencer clumsily dumps the bags of apples and oranges onto the belt.
"hi." you smile at the cashier. he's kind of cute, and the way his eyes subtly flicker over your body lets you know that the feeling is reciprocated.
"find everything okay?" he doesn't even look at Spencer.
"we did, thanks." you pull out your wallet and glance over at the genius beside you, who has gone from perusing the glossy gossip magazines to staring at the cashier. he doesn't say anything.
the guy doesn't seem to mind at all that you're with Reid, smiling and cracking a joke or two while he scans your items. Penelope shows up at the last second with her snacks and throws them on the belt.
"this part of your order, too?" the guy clarifies.
"yep." Spencer answers. you give him a look.
as soon as the guy finishes checking out and bagging your things, the three of you head back out into the heat. it's like an unpleasant, heavy wave that sucks the air from your lungs.
Spencer stupidly volunteered to carry all the bags, but you forced him to give you one so that he could still use his cane. he's acting weird right now and you're starting to get annoyed.
he's silent in the car, and although he's not always chatty, you can tell he's mad about something. seething, actually. but Penelope is there, so you decide to just wait until you're alone to ask why he's being pissy.
you can't wait to get inside and sit in the living room with a good book when you get back to the house.
except the second you walk through the front door, there's no glorious wave of cold air to greet you. in fact, there's no change in the temperature at all-- it's just straight heat. you frown and head into the kitchen with the bags, dropping them on the marble counter. JJ is sitting on a barstool and scrolling through her phone.
"didn't someone turn the air conditioning on?" you ask her. she's got her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail.
"Emily went to turn it on and it's broken." she replies, setting down her phone.
"are you serious?" your shoulders slump.
"yep. and it's only supposed to get a bit better tonight," she peeks into the canvas tote bag you brought in. "tell me you got wine."
"of course." you smile and try to focus on the positive aspects of being here. it could be a lot worse; you'll just need to keep the fans on and drink a bunch of liquids tonight. no big deal.
Penelope walks into the kitchen and places her palms flat against the marble. when she checks behind her to make sure no one else is around, you and JJ peek at each other. Penny leans closer to the two of you. "what's wrong with Reid?"
"Reid?" JJ is confused, then looks behind Garcia as if he's standing right there. but you're the only ones in the area. "I don't know. what did he do?"
"he was being a dick in the grocery store. where is he, Pen?" you ask the tech analyst.
"he went off to his room the second we got back inside." she shrugs.
"I literally don't know what's going on with him." you reply.
"does it have to do with the cane?" JJ whispers.
"does what have to do with the cane?" Emily wanders into the room, closing the cap of a bottled water. everyone startles, and you place your finger to your lips.
"shh!"
"why are we shushing?" she comes in closer until you're all leaning over the counter in a conspiratorial manner.
"Spencer's being annoying." you state. she snorts.
"why?"
"who knows?" Penelope glances at you. "Y/N, did you do something?"
"don't blame me!" you point at yourself.
it goes on like this for a while, the four of you talking over each other until you reach the altogether unsatisfying conclusion that he's just in a bad mood and will get over it soon. you realized a long time ago that trying to unravel his mind is like pulling teeth.
instead of dwelling on the gossip, you invite Rossi to come cook dinner while the rest of you prepare drinks and such. Morgan offers to help, but Penelope puts him on baguette-slicing duty.
even though everyone has seemingly moved on from the topic of Spencer's attitude, you think about it some more as you mince garlic. he comes into the kitchen to participate, so he can't be that upset. the way he keeps meeting your gaze, though, makes you wonder what's going on in that convoluted brain of his.
...
you've pretty much tuned out of the conversation by ten pm, your thoughts now turned to plucking a wine-soaked orange slice from your glass. your mother used to make candied oranges as a snack. she'd set them on foil and bake them in the oven, and you'd watch the citrus turn a warmer, honeyed color as she pulled them out.
Morgan's boisterous laugh catches your attention. he's got his arm slung over Emily's shoulder and it seems like he's regaling a previous case. JJ sits beside you, the scent of her perfume like summer and clean laundry. you wonder how her family is doing, if the boys are well. you almost volunteered to babysit them with Spencer the other day, but then you had too much paperwork to do.
and now he's got this smile while he listens to Morgan talk that makes your stomach flip. like he's only pretending to listen. you suppose you're no better, with your crossed legs and faux-interested giggle. you love your team members; you're just preoccupied at the moment.
it's funny that the two of you can be so different but so similar at the same time. despite the fact that you're a little peeved with him for his behavior earlier, there's still an inability to take your eyes off of him. he's got a perfect nose, a pretty smile. those dimples that show when he's secretly excited about something.
your heart flutters in your chest when his head turns suddenly. he's only going to grab a glass of ice water from the coffee table, but he takes the opportunity to run his gaze over your legs, then over your face. it's only a fraction of a second.
you swallow the lump in your throat. there's something different about him tonight that you can't put your finger on. he hasn't spoken much, though he's exuding a confidence that you aren't familiar with. your jaw tightens.
soon enough, people start trickling out of the living room and off to their individual rooms. you were still able to claim a single bed, thankfully, which is better than rooming with someone else. but you're not tired.
theoretically, you could go in there and lay in bed, overthink until you doze off from sheer exhaustion.
but you've also wanted to talk to Spencer all evening, and he's the only one who makes no move to leave. it's only once you get off the couch to bring the used glasses and plates to the kitchen that Rossi heads off to bed and leaves you and Reid to your own devices.
you're balancing some dishes in your arms as he follows you into the kitchen with a couple in his free hand.
"do you wanna put those in the dishwasher?" you ask, pointing to the plates before turning on the faucet. hot water pours over your hands.
he nods, then begins to put things away. you want to say something, but your tongue feels like it's been weighted down to the bottom of your mouth. there's not really a way to subtly glide into the conversation, so you do what you've always done best in your friendship with Spencer: you put it out in the open.
"what's wrong with you?"
maybe not the best way to open the floor, but you're starting to remember how rude he was being earlier and it's revitalizing your anger. Spencer straightens up from sliding forks into the dishwasher and frowns.
"what?"
"you seem upset."
"I'm not upset." he avoids eye contact by returning to the dishes. you turn off the water and face him fully.
"you're a shitty liar."
you catch the jump of muscles in his jawline, the sign that he's frustrated. but you want to know why, because you can't figure out what could have possibly happened between that window of time when you were selecting wines to when you were in the parking lot.
"I'm not lying."
"is it about the wine?" you scowl. Spencer actually lets out a mirthless laugh before responding.
"no. why would it be about wine?"
"I don't know, Spence," you drop your hands to your sides. droplets of water land on your bare thighs. "you just flipped so fast."
he's holding onto the edge of the counter, though you don't think it's because he's physically unstable.
there's a flash in his eyes that he suppresses. "I don't really wanna talk about it."
you resist the urge to scream. it's so hard to get him to talk about anything.
"fine." you exhale sharply through your nose and go back to washing the dishes. if he's going to be difficult, that's his decision. it's not your obligation to solve his problems.
the kitchen is filled with the sounds of ceramic clinking and rushing water. you try to focus on anything but Spencer's presence, even though it's bearing down on every inch of your mental being. he's too quiet.
"are you angry?" he breaks the silence after what feels like an eternity. the glass in your hand almost drops into the sink.
"yeah, a little." you reply honestly. when he doesn't respond, you continue. "I just get worried about you, Spence."
there's a sudden slight touch on your elbow and you turn around to see him right there. although you weren't expecting softness, you're slightly disappointed that there's only confusion in his eyes. "don't worry about me."
your eyebrows practically fly up as you slam off the faucet again. "don't worry about you? Spencer, you're one of my biggest worries."
this strikes a cord. "what does that mean?" he frowns.
"it means that I never know what you're thinking and when you get upset with me, I want you to tell me so we can resolve it." the words come out of your mouth in a tumbling manner as you speak a little louder than you should. you can't help it.
silence ensues. he just stands there, glaring, until you have half a mind to leave him to clean the kitchen by himself. there's an unspoken current rippling through the air.
"you can't resolve it." he says simply. the certainty in it baffles you further.
tension fills the small space between your bodies. your lower back is leaning against the counter while he stands in front of you. pupils blown-out. you wrack your mind for any explanation, but it's only when his tongue darts out over his lower lip that it hits you.
"oh my god," you murmur. "the cashier."
"I don't know what you're talking about." he raises his brows and avoids your gaze. he's really not helping himself here. now that you're thinking about what happened, it makes complete sense.
"you were jealous?" the word feels swollen, full of meaning. because there are implications behind it that you aren't fully grasping yourself. there's disbelief in your tone, and Spencer notices it. he feeds off your energy, responding with hostility.
"so what, Y/N?" his tone angers you— he's the one who needs to be explaining himself right now.
"you're throwing a fit because a guy at a grocery store flirted with me." your voice is dripping with passive aggression. seriously? that's what all of this is about?
as soon as you say it, you realize that you've done something dangerous. the energy in the room shifts almost imperceptibly.
Spencer moves so quickly, you almost wonder if he even needs the cane. he stands close, one hand on the counter beside your hip as he stares down.
"I'm not throwing a fit." every syllable dares you to say something more. his features are taut with frustration, and you can feel each breath in your lungs with heightened anticipation. your heart beats like a hummingbird's.
"then what would you call this?" your eyes are wide, begging him to do something. the silence carves a hole into your heart. you're not really sure what's happening, except for the rage that glitters between the two of you. you feel as though you're standing on the edge of an abyss, fingers outstretched. you want him to pull you down.
"claiming what's mine." is all he says, barely understandable, as he grabs your face and pulls you into him. his lips crash into yours in a messy, passionate fever. the air is ripped from your chest at the feeling.
his fingertips are pressing into the base of your jaw, and you give in to all the emotions you've tucked away. it's impossible to describe what it's like kissing Spencer, except for a blush of sensations that overtake you. his lips are soft but determined, and you there's a deep, angry desire in them that you give right back.
he presses his torso into yours, leaning into you while you're against the counter. your fingers tangle in his long hair, grabbing at the ends just to hear him groan into your mouth. it's unreal, how amazing he tastes. like the orange slices that never touched wine.
when you lift your leg to wrap around his torso, he drops a hand to hold it there. you can sense him through the fabric of your shorts, both of you craving more. Spencer slides his hand around your waist. even through the fabric of your t-shirt, you can feel his touch like it's burning.
you sigh into his mouth when he squeezes your skin. it goes on like this for a while, bodies trying to figure each other out while simultaneously trying to close all the gaps. he's in your bones. every time he made you laugh, every shared glance when you both knew something that everyone else didn't.
you have your own language, and this is just another part of it. your brain is foggy, but when you pull apart for air and lean your foreheads together, his voice is raspy.
"you're perfect." he breathes out. his eyes are on your lips, but they lift to meet yours. you go back in for another kiss, eager for as many of them as you can get. he's delightful at it, intoxicating. you could do it forever.
you're burning up from the lack of air conditioning, though. "it's too hot." you mutter. his tongue licks over your bottom lip and he takes it between his teeth.
"I know." he moves his lips down to your throat, covering it in gentle kisses that cause you to throw your head back. you grind against him helplessly. he's so good with his mouth, it's going to drive you mad.
there's a pause and your eyes, which have fluttered shut, shoot open when you feel a sharp cool sensation against your neck. Spencer moves his mouth down to your collarbone, an ice cube held between his pink lips. he must have gotten it from his glass on the counter. goosebumps rise over your skin, a thin trail of melted ice remaining in their place.
the mingled feelings cause you to pant. your chest heaves against the ice while he cools you down. it melts quickly. and then it's just his cold mouth dragging down the collar of your t-shirt and his hands pushing the hem of it up around your waist.
he needs more contact, more of you. and you're trying not to make any noises.
"did that work, baby?" he murmurs after kissing you again. you nod and sigh.
"mhmm."
"did you want more?"
"mhmm." the thought makes you buck your hips against him. but Spencer isn't giving in. he takes your face in his hand, squeezes it until you're forced to look him in the eyes.
"too bad," he examines your features. "now head off to my bedroom and be ready for me when I get there."
he drops your face, your leg, and you wipe your mouth with an astonished expression. you've never seen Spencer get so dominant in any way before, except for the occasional case when he gets incredibly mad. but this... this is new.
you nod and walk out of the room, glancing over your shoulder to see him putting away the last of the dishes and eyeing that glass of ice. you have a feeling it's not going to be the last you see of that.
obediently, you find his room and close the door. it takes only a few moments to peel your clothes off, a breeze passing through the open window and caressing your naked body. you crawl onto the bed and wait patiently for Spencer. arousal soaks through your panties by the second.
he takes a good minute and you consider getting started without him. it wouldn't take much to fall apart at this rate. all you'd have to do is part your thighs...
the door opens and Spencer walks in with his cane and a glass of ice cubes. but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees your fingers resting against your center.
"what were you doing?" he raises a brow. you open and close your mouth.
"you were taking a while."
he sets down the ice cubes on the coaster of the bedside table, then grabs onto your knee. he stares down at your naked figure, which he's never seen before and honestly never wants to forget. he drinks in the sight of you before speaking.
"so you started touching yourself?" he makes a disapproving noise. "impatient."
your stomach flips excitedly. you want him to move his hand down, to do more to you. "I'm sorry."
"no, you're not," he trails his fingers up your leg, deftly passing over your pussy and between the valley of your breasts until they're resting at your throat. "but you're going to be."
your hips buck up against nothing. he's doing things to you that you never thought you'd felt, and now it's dragging you into an unfamiliar place. you lean into the feeling as he continues to graze over your neck. "what's your safety word, sweetheart?"
you gulp. he feels it beneath his touch. "red."
he eyes you tenderly before moving on. "and you'll tell me if you don't like something."
"yes."
"yes, sir." he wraps his hand around your throat, not squeezing but keeping you in place.
you smile softly and he lets out a low chuckle that makes your legs clench. "you just wanna be controlled, huh?"
"yes, sir."
"stop holding your thighs together like a slut, then." he orders. you bite your tongue and do as told, even though it's practically painful to do so. a whole new wave of heat rushes to your core with every command he gives. "get up and kneel for me."
you move quickly to the position he wants and look up at him from the edge of the bed. he admires the look in your eyes, so eager to please. his cock twitches in his pants, and when he unbuttons them, you lick your lips.
"are you gonna put it in my mouth, sir?" you ask impatiently. Spencer pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to stroke it a few times. your eyes are glued to his movements, how pretty he is when he's pleasuring himself.
"you tell me." he pulls you closer so that the tip of his dick rests against your lips. you open up and stare while he pushes into the warm, inviting wetness that your mouth provides. his head drops back for a second before fixing his attention back on you and immediately starting to thrust. he keeps the cane at his side for support while he does.
your tongue moves to swirl over the precum that leaks out, but soon you're hollowing your cheeks in order to suck more while he pushes your head down onto him. you moan out at the sensation of him continually hitting the back of your throat.
"suck on it, there you go, angel..." he groans out. "following directions so well."
you grab onto his legs to coax more of him into your mouth. you can't get enough of the way he fills your throat, especially when he pulls you closer until your nose hits his stomach. he keeps it there and starts fucking it. you suck harder, whining.
Spencer is mumbling praises to you the whole time. "good little slut, taking it all the way down your pretty throat-- so fucking tight..." he breathes. when you gag, he lets out a moan. "choke, baby, that's it... fuck."
before he can cum, he withdraws and leaves a thread of spit hanging between your lip and his cock. he smiles at your watering eyes and satisfied smile. you've never felt this way before. pining for him and him only. Spencer. you're practically dripping, wondering how on earth you got to this point.
you love how he's talking.
"lay back on the bed." he tells you as he takes off his own clothes. you're going to die if he doesn't hurry up and get naked, but you're also enjoying the show. you've dreamt about it before, how good he would look on top of you, but you never thought it'd be a reality.
and then he's standing there, climbing onto the bed gingerly so as not to disturb his injury too much and pushing you up the mattress until your head is on a pillow. he grabs your legs and parts them easily, dipping down to kiss the insides of them. you shudder at the unexpected pleasure, so far from your neediest spot.
as your hips lift off the bed for more, he slams them back down and looks at you disapprovingly. "did I say you could do that?" he asks. you shake your head bashfully.
Spencer spends time on your thighs, peppering them with kisses until he finally reaches nearest your glistening pussy. you feel like you're going to combust then and there as he blows softly over it. you whimper.
"is this what my little girl wants?" he asks gently, adding a long, slender finger to run over your folds. you buck into his digits while he speaks. "you want me to touch you?"
"yes, sir." you whine, squirming while he begins to play in the wetness you've created. his fingertip toys with your entrance, then moves over your clit to give it a few teasing rubs. he smirks.
"I'm gonna eat you out, okay, sweetheart?" he goes back down to kiss your inner thigh, this time leaving a bite mark in the soft flesh. finally, he pecks your clit with his lips and watches you moan for more. his tongue finds it again easily, lapping over the bud and then moving down to your entrance to dip inside.
you gasp at the way he gets inside your walls, then circles your bundle of nerves. you're losing your mind already, hands gripping at his long curls and pulling him against you. Spencer enjoys the sensation, so he allows it and moans against your swollen spot.
he stares up at your contorted expression, the pleasure he's giving you. and when your hands are tangled in his hair, he can't even think straight. he devours you, savors the taste while you writhe beneath him.
"oh..." you moan. it feels too good to stay silent. each breath tempts you to release another sinful noise.
Spencer writes his name on your clit, enthusiastic in every aspect. it's unidentifiable, the switch inside you that flips when you look at him. and you can't take the immense pleasure, hips grinding on his face while holding him against you. "it's so-- daddy-- fuck, fuck!" you sigh out.
it's all he can do not to cum on the spot. Spencer hears the title and whimpers against your wet cunt, eating you up and learning every single sensitive spot. he can tell what you're enjoying from the high-pitched whines you release.
his hand rests on your stomach to hold you down, but it's no use. you're biting your lip just to keep from screaming. he's miraculous, like magic, working you just the way he wants. you're his puppet right now, and you love that feeling. it's exactly what you need.
as the wave mounts and surrounds you, one of your hands flies up to cover your mouth. you bite down on it to keep from screaming. eyes roll into the backs of heads, both of you drunk on the heady atmosphere you've created. you're floating while he works you through the whole thing. he's not going to waste a single precious moment of tasting you.
Spencer lifts his face and rests his chin on your hip bone. his irises appear almost onyx from the darkness of his pupils. he presses a kiss to your skin. "daddy, huh?"
your already warm body heats up again from the smirk he gives. but you nod anyway, too drawn into the dizzying pleasure of your own fantasies. his nails drag over the skin of your sides. "I'm gonna fuck you, okay?"
you frown. "what about your leg?"
"I'll take care of it." the sternness of his voice shuts you up immediately. he winces slightly as he gets up, but doesn't complain at all when he gets up next to you on the bed. you're on your back still, legs closed tightly from the sight of his naked form. he's perfect.
Spencer turns to grab an ice cube out of the glass and slips it into his mouth without breaking eye contact. your heavily-lidded gaze awaits his movements. when he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss, you shiver. the cube sits on your lips, melted cold water dripping down your chin.
his tongue passes over yours and then he's withdrawing again, bringing his mouth over your throat and into the shadow of your clavicle. you suck in a breath. Reid keeps one hand on your stomach, the other supporting himself as he lays on his side.
it's such a foreign feeling, those rivulets over flesh. chest heaving, you let out a quiet sigh. and then Spencer decides that he's tired of waiting and grabs your hips, flips you onto your side so that your back is held to his chest.
you gasp when his erection sits directly on your ass. he swallows the last of the ice cube and pecks your shoulder. "you're so soft..." he murmurs. it shoots immediately down to your core, and you push back against his dick. he groans despite himself. "I'm gonna ruin you."
the lazy smile that takes over your face turns into a surprised expression when Spencer grabs your leg and lifts it just far enough into the air for him to slide his cock in between your legs. he rubs himself in your wetness, both of you moaning and starting to grind against each other for more friction.
every cell pleads for him and you start to grab your own tits. Reid holds his tip at your entrance, teasing. his eyes are glued to your figure as it fights for some satisfaction. at this point, you don't care about anything but pleasing him. it'll make you cum to see his expression when he's enraptured by his own ecstasy.
"fuck me." you whisper while he slides slowly into you. his sound of restraint is delicious.
"god, I love when you beg," your walls tighten around him as he stretches them out. it's a mix of pain and pleasure. but as soon as he's inside, he's greedy. "I bet you'd do anything for me to put my dick in you. fucking slut."
you whimper as the tip of his length brushes your cervix. he's fully inside, and it's hard to think straight when you're so full. you pant slightly while you attempt to get used to the feeling. "mhmm."
"you're gonna be daddy's good little girl?" he lifts your leg farther so that he can hit a deeper angle. you let out a mewl.
"I'll be-- fuck!" you yelp when he pulls out and pushes back into you. "I'll be good, daddy."
"shut up, baby," he warns. his hand drops your leg and guides your own to replace it so that he can cover your mouth with his palm. "they're gonna hear us."
for some reason, this makes you push back against him for more, pleasure winding its way through your veins. Spencer chuckles in your ear. "is that what you want? for them to know I'm fucking your pretty pussy in here?"
you cry out against his hand while he starts to build a pace inside. it's almost overwhelming, the way he's pounding into you and holding you back against him at the same time. every word out of his mouth is only adding to it all. "they're gonna know you belong to me."
you work against each other, Spencer grunting into your shoulder and murmuring filthy things while he takes you. it's like your nerves are on fire as you pant into his hand. it's hard to contain the noises he's bringing out of you, animalistic sounds that make you forget the consequences.
this is what you've been wanting for a while, but you never knew Reid could be this dominant. he always struck you as the vanilla type. but now that he's got a vice grip on your entire being, you're leaning into it. you love this side of him, love the dynamic you've created together.
his pace grows ever more ragged, slamming his hips into your ass and filling the room with the sound of skin against skin. you throw your head back and feel every inch of him plowing into your arched form. your hand drifts down to rub your clit at the same time, and then you know that you're not going to last much longer.
"daddy..." you whine, but it comes out muffled against his hand. he withdraws it quickly and grabs your hips, leaning closer to you. the words come out barely soon enough. "I'm gonna cum."
he feels it before he registers it: that pulsation in your walls, holding his cock and trying to keep him there forever. he sighs at the fluttering sensation while working harder against it, and you can tell that he's going to lose it, too. when he shoves inside roughly, you cover your own mouth to quiet your yelp.
"daddy's gonna fill you up, princess." once he sees your nod, he groans loudly and stills inside your pussy, shooting his load deep inside and causing you to whimper. your hips jump excitedly at the feeling, and he starts to thrust again, just to keep it all inside.
both of you breathe heavily. his hips come to a stop. it's difficult to focus at first, your vision slightly blurred from the tide of euphoria that he's given you. the air is still warm and you can feel how much heat you've created from the commotion.
shit.
the second he pulls out, you feel like you've been brought back to reality. it's slow, creeping up your brain until you realize that you just fucked your best friend. like, dirty, filthy sex.
Spencer's looking at you. when you roll onto your back, you chance a peek at him. his cheeks are flushed pink from the exertion, hair sticking to the sides of his face while he tries to regain his composure. he's never looked more beautiful than he does right now.
"are you okay?" is the first thing he asks. you gulp and nod.
"I'm amazing. you?"
"spectacular."
you grin at each other, feel some of that familiarity. "battle of the synonyms?"
"I just like to one-up you." he laughs. you roll your eyes.
"is the IQ thing not enough?"
"nope." he gets up off the bed, wincing again at the pain.
"seriously, Spencer, are you even supposed to do stuff with your leg like that?" you're concerned.
"I'm fine," he gives you a look. "now let me get some stuff to clean you up."
you watch him go into the bathroom. he returns with two washcloths. the first he hands over is cold, and when he tells you to use it to cool off, you listen. it's heavenly, only further complemented by the warm washcloth he uses to clean the mess on your skin.
you shut your eyes and relax a bit. it's still something you need to get used to, how you've just acted together. but once he's done and has gotten two glasses of ice water from the kitchen, you decide that it's okay to not be fully settled into everything yet.
Spencer smiles gently and keeps asking if you're okay.
"did I hurt you at all?" he runs his fingertips over your tummy after you've crawled back into bed together. you shake your head.
"it felt good."
in response, he kisses your cheek and pulls your waist closer so that you're face-to-face. "I'm sorry for being an ass."
you roll your eyes. "and?"
"for getting jealous."
"okay." you smirk. he raises his eyebrows.
"what?"
"nothing."
"Y/N, what?"
"you like me." you sing-song happily. Spencer purses his lips.
"shut up."
"no." a resolute response, but you crumble easily when he begins to tickle your sides. between giggles, you try to keep from shrieking joyfully. your legs kick in the air while you pretend to fight back.
Spencer is laughing, too, still holding you close. you want this forever, right here with him. you don't want to be anywhere else.
and when he plants his lips on your cheek with a smile, you sense it in your gut. you know that whatever this is that you have with him is going to last.
TAGLIST (add yourself here or lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @xoxomgg @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @jareids @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @jakobsdump @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @willowrose99 @rexorangecouny @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter @lelifesaver @dr-spencerr-reidd @gingeraleluke @satanxklaus @spencerreidsimp @kiramreid @chasemoonlight @deansdoll @go2sleepducky @queenofthepouges @wheelsupscenehater @spencerreidcumslut
Prompt: Spencer invites Reader over for their usual Movie Night, but the night takes a different turn when a spicy scene comes on.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: friends with benefits, SoftDom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, dirty talking, pet names (love), praise kink, cockwarming, unprotected sex, breeding kink
Words: 6.2k
A.N.: This whole thing is based on this post because why not.
Also, I’m not going to mention the name of the movie, but I think, if you’ve seen it, you can definitely tell which one it is. And yes, everything Spencer and Reader are saying, are my opinions – and hopefully, they’re also everyone else’s. That movie sucked and I hope people will stop romanticising that shit.
Check my masterlist here.
Join my taglist here.
Share your thoughts/requests here.
“I’m not going to watch another movie in a language I can’t understand. Last week you picked the movie, now it’s my turn.”
Spencer rolled his eyes, carrying the popcorn bowl in his hands. “Okay, that’s fair. But please, no rom-coms. I think I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”
I turned my head to him, crossing my arms to my chest with my eyebrows raised. “Excuse me, are you saying my favourite genre of movies is boring?”
“No, I’m just saying...”
I playfully pinched his elbow, watching him giggle. “I’m offended. I always love your movies, but you hate mine.”
“I don’t hate them, Y/N, I just... prefer something else.” – Spencer explained, sitting down beside me on his couch – “I just hope you don’t want to show me the movie you’ve been talking about with Penelope this weekend.”
Humming, I pointed to the TV. “We’re going to watch that one.”
“An erotic movie? Seriously?” Spencer asked in disbelief
I shrugged, crossing my legs on the couch and scooting closer to him. “Yes. I haven’t seen it yet, but Penelope said it sucks. So, we’re going to judge the movie and laugh about it.”
My best friend didn’t seem convinced by my choice for the night, but he got comfortable on his own couch and nudged my arm with his to tell me I could start the movie.
So I did, grabbing my first popcorn of the night and eating it.
I knew picking an erotic movie would change the atmosphere between us, but I was willing to test the theory Penelope, JJ and Luke had about Spencer and his feelings for me. I didn’t pick that specific movie because I wanted to turn him on, that thought was far away from my mind, but I just wanted to see if my friends and colleagues were right.
Me and Spencer have always been really close, we’d call each other ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ at work just to see the others’ reaction, but ever since that conversation with Luke, everything shifted in a whole different atmosphere.
Each time I touched Spencer, something awakened within me. I never looked at him as anything different than a friend, until Luke decided to tell me that Spencer might have a crush on me. I tried my best to forget about those words, to pretend like he didn’t say anything, but it was difficult – because I started to read Spencer’s body language in a different light.
Every feverish touch, every lingering kiss on the cheek, every ‘would you like to stay the night?’ with those puppy dog eyes, every ‘you are so beautiful’ with that adorable smile and those cute dimples poking in his cheeks, every single time we held hands... it felt different.
It felt like there has always been something more, but I’ve just been too oblivious to notice, so lost in my own perception of my relationship with Spencer that I forgot that I might be attracted to him.
Scratch ‘might’.
I’ve always been attracted to him, but friends don’t have sex with each other. Friends are friends, otherwise they wouldn’t have been called friends.
“On the plane?! In front of the others?!”
Spencer’s voice woke me up from my thoughts.
I blinked, forcing myself to get back to the moment as I stared at the TV. The spicy scene is already up on the screen and Spencer seemed completely shocked by what he was witnessing, so I couldn’t help myself from laughing at his expression.
“He’s getting a blowjob by the hostess! In front of his colleagues or whatever!” – Spencer exclaimed again, looking at me – “What kind of movie is this? Are you serious?”
“Hey, I didn’t write it and I didn’t film it. It’s not my fault it fucking sucks.” – I shrugged, grabbing another handful of popcorn – “I love watching you get frustrated because a movie is horrible. It really makes my nights better.”
He glanced at me, shaking his head. “I swear, if this is another Fifty Shades kind of movie...”
I grabbed his hand tightly. “Oh no. It’s much worse.”
Spencer giggled, turning back to the screen. “I will not make it to the end of the night.”
“Don’t be a drama queen, Spence. It’s just a stupid movie that frustrated people will watch while they’re having sex.”
My words seemed to have a weird effect on Spencer, because his eyes shifted back on me and his eyebrows raised. There was something in eyes I couldn’t quite read, something that he wanted to say but held back.
“We’re not having sex right now, so why are we watching it?”
“We could have sex, you know.”
Spencer almost choked on the popcorn he was swallowing and I felt bad.
I should’ve expected him to be shocked by my words, but at the same time I didn’t think he’d take me seriously – even though I was dead serious. If people watch this movie while they’re having sex because it’s fun and the movie is horrible, why can’t we do it as well?
But then again, why would I have sex with my best friend even though I’m clearly sexually, psychologically and emotionally attracted to him?
“We’re cuddling anyway, you might as well put your dick in me.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”
Honestly, neither did I.
I wanted Spencer, of course I did, but at the same time I didn’t. Having sex with your friends might ruin everything you’ve build with them or it might push your friendship in a whole direction, especially if there are feelings involved.
“I am dead serious.”
“Y/N, I don’t think...”
“Just say no, Spencer. You’re not going to offend me.” – I told him with a smile, even though deep down I would’ve been crushed if he rejected me – “The offer stands.”
Spencer looked at me for a few seconds, then he went silent. He turned his head back to the TV and kept watching the movie without uttering a single word. His eyes were on the screen, but his mind was somewhere else – and I didn’t know how to feel about it.
I knew that speaking my mind out loud was going to be tricky and it could’ve probably ruined the whole night for both of us, but I couldn’t stay silent any longer. And maybe, just maybe, I knew that watching an erotic movie might have pushed us to a whole different level in our relationship. If that made any sense.
Slipping into the silence of the night, I pushed the blanket up to my shoulders and tried my best to distract my thoughts from wandering to Spencer again. The silence was getting to me and it wasn’t a comfortable one; no, it was the most uncomfortable silence I’ve ever experienced in my whole life and it was all my fault.
I shouldn’t have said anything, I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.
Minutes after minutes, I felt more and more like shit.
Spencer eased back into his usual self, keeping his right arm around my shoulders and offering me the popcorn on his lap, while I was on the verge of turning off the movie and crying my eyes out because I felt like I ruined everything.
Sighing, I leaned my head on Spencer’s shoulder. “I can’t believe he’s getting his dick sucked in front of her.”
“I can’t believe people watch this movie and think it’s a good one. He’s literally forcing her to have sex with him and fall in love with him.” – Spencer mumbled, running his fingers up and down my shoulder – “Do you really think that works, my dude?”
I chuckled, looking up at my friend. “Hm, it doesn’t work in real life. Only in movies.”
“Of course it doesn’t work in real life, that’s literally a crime.”
Spencer was growing frustrated the more he watched the movie, and his expression alone helped me slowly forget about the awkward interaction. The thought didn’t disappear from my mind because I felt some distance between me and Spencer, but at least it wasn’t as obvious as I thought it was.
His comments helped me put those thoughts aside.
With my head on his shoulder, I cuddled up against his chest. I snuck my fingers underneath the lilac fabric of his shirt and draw circles on the soft skin of his waist, keeping my eyes on the screen the whole time.
It was difficult to focus on the movie when Spencer’ s arms closed around my body, pushing me against his. It was difficult even when my nose pressed to his neck as I inhaled the sweet scent of his cologne, filling my senses.
I could feel the butterflies in my belly.
His hands caressed my back, up and down, in slow movements. I felt my eyes close at the gente gestures, with the music playing in the background and fading as Spencer looked down at me. I knew he was staring, but I didn’t dare open my eyes - I couldn’t, or he would’ve noticed the desire flashing behind them.
It was awfully difficult to hide how much I wanted him that night.
“Is this movie turning you on?”
My fingers clung to his shirt, hoping the fabric would keep me grounded.
“No.” - I admitted, biting my bottom lip - “It’s not… It’s not the movie.”
Spencer didn’t speak, but his hands slid down my back and settled on my hips. It was obvious I was talking about him, and it was also obvious that I was so turned on because of how close I was to Spencer’s body - but he didn’t say anything.
He didn’t tease me about it, he didn’t make fun of me.
No, Spencer stayed quiet while his hands caressed my back again.
I didn’t know if he got the hint, I didn’t know if he was paying attention to the movie again but I could feel the insistence of his fingers lingering around the hook of my bra. Maybe I was just reading too much into it, maybe Spencer was distracted by the light bump on my back but still.
There was something different in his touch, something…
“What is it, then?” he asked
The innocent question lingered in the air for a few seconds as I gathered all my thoughts and made sure to keep my mouth shut.
My brain had different plans.
“You.”
Spencer’s grip on my waist tightened, eliciting a yelp from my lips. “Me?”
I pulled away as soon as he spoke, drawing away in embarrassment. My cheeks were burning up and my eyes were watery, a sign of frustration - a deep, overwhelming frustration that was ready to snap at any second.
I didn’t know what kind of game Spencer was playing, but I didn’t like being teased that way - I didn’t want him to feel like he owed me something.
“Listen, I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”
“Why are you apologising?” Spencer asked with furrowed brows
I shrugged, brushing the back of my hand over my eyes. “I don’t… I made things awkward by hinting I wanted to have sex with you. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t reject your offer.”
The movie was still playing in the background, but I forgot about it. It felt like white noise all around as all of my attention went on Spencer and on how his eyes never left my face, trying to find amusement, or annoyance behind them.
Did he think I was joking? Did he think I wasn’t serious?
“You didn’t.”
“Ask again.”
I raised my brows, crossing my arms. “I didn’t ask. I suggested.”
“Okay then.” - Spencer’s lips twitched into a smile - “Suggest again.”
The words were stuck in my mouth. I felt my tongue going completely dry and my brain emptying itself as Spencer’s eyes kept staring at me, with his lips curved into a devilish smirk that made me want to kneel in front of him.
He has always been so fucking attractive.
“We could have sex. We’re cuddling anyway, you might as well…”
“Put my dick in you.” - Spencer continued for me, tilting his head - “That’s a very…”
Our conversation got interrupted by the long moan coming from the screen by our side, and we both turned to it as if we had been drawn to it. It wasn’t surprising to see the couple finally making out on TV - well, they weren’t exactly just making out.
They were having sex on a yacht.
The kind of sex that consumes you. The kind of sex that makes you unable to move the day after, or a few days after.
The kind of sex I was craving in that moment.
The song playing in the background wasn’t making the scene less attractive. No, on the contrary, it was making everything slightly better - and less embarrassing. The movie was still stupid and the plot useless, but at least the visuals were interesting - and the two actors were kind of attractive. The scene was also turning the temperature in the living room way higher than it was, bringing me and Spencer closer to snap.
Spencer turned to me as soon as he felt my eyes on his face.
And without speaking, he leaned forward to finally close the distance between us.
His mouth melted on mine like it was meant to be, with my fingers immediately running through those long curls I played with before. The contact with his lips sparked a light within me as I ended up straddling his thighs, pushing Spencer against the couch.
While the characters were enjoying their time on the yacht, I was enjoying the gentle kisses Spencer was covering my lips with. His hands cradled my face as I comfortably sat on his thighs, pressing my chest to his in order to get as close as possible to him.
His lips were soft and his kisses tasted like popcorn.
I grasped the smooth fabric of his shirt and pulled it so that his chest was pressed to mine, while his heart matched the beat of mine ever so slowly. Spencer was holding me tightly in his arms and he leaned down on the couch, allowing me to stay on top of him without breaking the kiss.
I forgot about the movie playing in the background, focused on unbuttoning his trousers and pushing them down his legs. Spencer squirmed under my touch, but he didn’t pull away - instead, he lifted his hips and allowed me to undress him.
My lips broke apart from his as I leaned down to his neck, peppering it with open-mouthed kisses.
“Are you sure you want to stay on the couch? The bed is more comfortable.” - Spencer whispered, tightening his grip on my thighs - “And it’s bigger.”
I shook my head, looking up at him. “We have a movie to finish.”
Spencer didn’t complain, watching me straddle his thigh while lifting my shirt and throwing it on the floor. His eyes followed each one of my movements, twinkling with desire and amusement when my bra fell off my shoulders. He didn’t care about the movie anymore, he was watching me - and he was enjoying the view.
Pressing my bare chest to his, I kissed his mouth again and rolled to his side. Spencer seemed to understand the position I wanted to be in and laid on his side, wrapping his arms around my body.
His hands sneaked upward, reaching my breasts and gripping them lightly.
Spencer’s nose nudged to the side of my neck. “You want to finish the movie like this?”
I nodded, pushing my hips against his. “Please…”
“Please what, love?”
I didn’t want to speak. I already was in a compromised position, with his dick pressed to my backside and his fingers kneading my breasts. I couldn’t have talked, even if I wanted to.
“You know…”
Spencer hummed with his lips pressed to my neck and slid both his hands down my chest, pushing me against his. His hips rolled with mine as a soft moan escaped from my lips, turning into a giggle when Spencer bit my shoulder.
“Hey! Be nice.” - I whispered, covering his left hand with mine - “Or you won’t…”
Spencer interrupted me by shoving his hand down my panties, earning a suffocated whimper as I closed my eyes. My fingers gripped the back of his hand, but he ignored the sign and teased me with his thumb pressed right above my clit.
“What did you say, love? I can’t hear you.”
He wanted me to beg him.
“Spencer..”
“Yes, that’s my name.” - he whispered to my ear, brushing the tip of his fingers over my entrance - “What do you want? Tell me.”
I whimpered at the touch, pushing my hips back.
There were so many things I wanted at that moment, but I couldn’t speak. The only coherent sound that came out of my mouth was his name, and even that sounded weird, shaky.
“You.” - I urged, moving his hand lower between my legs - “Inside.”
Spencer granted me his mercy and pulled his hand away, using it to push his briefs down his thighs just enough to free his cock. I could feel the pre-cum smeared over the curve of my hips, but I didn’t care - I was too focused on the anticipation and dull delicious ache I felt for him.
I tried to keep my eyes open and fixed on the screen, watching the couple talking about something I couldn’t care to understand. My mind was totally wrapped in the slow movements of Spencer’s cock over my entrance, smearing my wetness all over length.
I was squirming, gripping his forearm and hoping he would end my misery.
“Is this what you want?” - Spencer said with his lips pressed to my ear - “Do you want me inside of you, love?”
I turned my head to the side, trying to look at him. “Yes. Yes, please.”
Spencer forced me to turn back to the screen. “Alright, but we have a movie to watch. So no talking, no wiggling. I want you to stay focused on the movie you picked.”
I wanted to curse at him, I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t pay attention to that horrible movie Penelope suggested me because all I craved in that moment was his cock deep inside of me, fucking me until I stopped functioning.
But I kept quiet, nodding my head and staring at the screen like a good girl.
“That’s it, good girl.” Spencer encouraged me
His words went straight between my legs, making me tremble with desire. Being praised by him was the highest compliment you could ever receive - and at that moment, I felt like I was the best girl in the world.
Spencer kissed the back of my neck, moving my hair out of the way so he could reach the tender skin right below my ear. And slowly, inch by inch, he pushed his cock inside of me as deep as he could. Spencer filled the empty space until I was sure there was no more space left.
My body stretched around him as I struggled to keep my eyes open, while I swore my heart jumped out of my throat. I bit my bottom lip, trying not to moan at the sensation of being deliciously full of him, but Spencer released the prettiest sound from his mouth.
“You feel so good around me, love.”
With my eyes closed, I rolled my hips to get closer to Spencer but he stopped me. I didn’t know how he could ask me to stay still and focus on the movie, when my body was overwhelmed with desire and lust for him.
I just wanted him to ruin me. Was that too much to ask?
“Spencer, I can’t..”
Ignoring me, Spencer brought his left hand to my mouth and covered it.
“I’m watching a movie.” - he whispered to my ear - “Be quiet.”
I did my best, opening my eyes and staring blankly at the screen. The scenes moved rapidly in front of me, but I didn’t focus on any of them - I couldn’t even if I wanted to, too lost in the pleasure of him rocking his hips against mine.
His index finger slipped between my lips, pressing onto my tongue. I did what he probably expected me to do. I wrapped my lips around his finger and sucked it, whimpering when Spencer thrusted forward.
I was so close to roll off the couch, but Spencer made sure to keep me pressed to his body as he fucked into me. Slowly, but steadily, with no intention of going further and I was losing my mind.
My mouth was filled with two of his fingers while his cock was buried deep inside of me, touching all the right places and making me moan against his hand. How could I pay attention to a movie?
“You wanted this, love.” - Spencer said, kissing my bare shoulder - “Then, take it like a good girl.”
So I did.
Thrusting into me at a slow pace, Spencer made sure to remind me that he could easily stop everything if I hadn’t kept my mouth shut. Luckily, his fingers were doing the job for me as I sucked on them, teasing him over what I could’ve done with my mouth if only we hadn’t put on that stupid movie.
I regretted coming over to his place for that reason, but I was glad I did - if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have ended up with Spencer inside of me.
“If I knew you wanted me to fuck you, I would’ve done it months ago.” - Spencer spoke, pressing his fingers over my tongue - “You just needed to ask, love.”
I whined, pushing his hand away from my face. “I c-couldn’t.”
He hummed, bottoming out inside of me. Pressed with his chest to my back, Spencer nipped the tender skin of my shoulder as another whine fell from my lips.
“Why not, love?”
“We were b-busy and I d-didn’t know how..”
My words died in my throat as soon as Spencer picked up the pace of his thrusts, earning a chorus of moans and curses from me. He knew what he was doing, forcing me to speak when my whole body was shuddering and drowning in the greed and lust I felt for him.
“You can’t even finish your sentences. Do you need to be fucked so badly, love? Is that why you can’t even focus on a stupid movie you wanted to watch?”
I could only nod my head, hoping Spencer would end my misery again and just fuck me until I could only whisper his name or whine in pleasure. His thrusts didn’t falter, they were quick, purposeful, and they left me breathless each time he pushed his left hand over my belly.
The pressure was getting overwhelming as I felt myself being pushed closer to my release, but I held it - I wanted Spencer to keep going, desperate to feel him come inside of me, making a mess between my legs, owning me.
I wanted to feel his.
“B-Bedroom.”
Spencer hummed, sliding his hand back on my hips. “Oh, absolutely. I don’t want to stain the couch.”
I chuckled at his reply, whining when he pulled out of me.
Spencer helped me stand up from the couch and watched my naked body in front of him, bringing both his hands on my hips. I stared down at him, biting my bottom lip. I wanted to run to the bedroom and just ride him until my thighs were cramping, but Spencer seemed to have a different idea in mind.
Apparently, seeing me naked did something to him.
“You are so precious.” - Spencer said, meeting my gaze - “Can’t believe you’re allowing me to touch you this way.”
I felt my cheeks heating up at his words. “I’d let you do anything you want to me.”
“Ah, now you can speak.” - he mumbled, earning a playful slap over his shoulder - “Okay, I deserved that. Sorry.”
His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips as Spencer stood up from the couch, forcing me to take a step back. His eyes were on me the whole time, but his hands slid down over my thighs and gripped them to leave red marks all over my skin.
I didn’t moan, I didn’t whimper.
I just stared at Spencer and let him use my body however he pleased.
Spencer seemed to be amused by the way I was allowing him to do whatever he wanted to do to me, so he brought his right hand between my legs and forced me to open them for him. I obeyed like a good girl, licking my bottom lip but never breaking the eye-contact.
If Spencer wanted to see me crumble, I would’ve let him watch.
“Are you sure you want to go to the bedroom?” Spencer asked
Suddenly, the question seemed stupid and the option of staying on the couch felt better. I could’ve rode him right there, I could’ve laid down on the carpet and let him get his way with me, I could’ve gotten on my knees for him…
There were so many things we could do in his living room, but again..
“I wouldn’t want you to stain the couch.”
Spencer chuckled at my remark and nodded. “Okay, then. The bed is more comfortable for these activities. I can have you in any way I want.”
I bit my tongue to prevent the words from coming out of my mouth and followed him down the hallway, still completely naked. Spencer kicked his boxers to the side and walked in front of me, turning the lights of the bedroom on.
There was a pile of clothes on the desk beside the window and his lavender candle was turned off, which means he didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I didn’t either, everything happened in the blink of an eye.
“I think you s-should… get a towel.”
Spencer didn’t let my hand go. “A towel?”
I nodded my head, leaning forward to kiss his lips. “Do you want to come inside of me, Spencer?”
His jaw tightened and his grip on my hips got harder.
“Do you want to see your cum dripping down my thighs once we’re done?” - I asked again, inching closer to kiss his mouth again - “Because if you do, I think you should get a towel.”
Spencer didn’t answer me with words, leaving me in the bedroom alone. The light in his bathroom turned on for a few seconds, then he walked out with a red towel in his hands. I wanted to laugh, but I forced myself not to - Spencer seemed so determined, shocked by my question but so eager to do everything I said.
We haven’t talked about the possibility of him coming inside of me, mainly because we weren’t really planning on having sex that night - but it was happening, and I didn’t want to make a mess on his sheets.
Spencer might have not answered me with words, but the way he ran to get that towel told me everything I needed to know. He was desperate to come inside of me, and I was going to make sure to tell him that I was just as desperate.
There’s something so intimate in allowing someone to come inside of you.
It’s not just a sensation that feels incredible, but it’s the aftermath - it’s what happens immediately after, when you’re looking at the other person and get lost in the pleasure of what has just happened.
Spencer laid out the towel on the bed and I immediately jumped on the mattress, giggling when he grabbed me by the ankle. He pulled me down, right where the towel was, and spread my legs for his pleasure.
“Are you going to finally fuck me?”
Spencer was standing at the edge of the bed with his lips twitched into a wicked smile, staring at the glistening core between my legs. I didn’t know if he was planning on fucking me already or teasing me in another way, but I didn’t care - I just craved to feel him somehow, in any way he wanted.
“If that’s what you want…”
“Oh, I want a lot of things..” - I whispered, moving my hips when his hands slid over my inner thighs - “You can either fuck me like this or let me ride you. Both options sound interesting, don’t you think?”
Spencer pondered over the two options I gave him, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he jumped over the bed and settled between my thighs with no hesitation.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his lips, shuddering when Spencer pushed his cock back inside of me. The sensation made me roll my eyes in the back of my head as Spencer stretched me out so deliciously, towering on top of me.
His curls fell from that angelic face as I cradled his cheeks in my hands.
“Pretty.”
Spencer looked at me and stopped his thrusts, blushing. “I, uh.. thank you.”
“Did you just blush because I said you’re pretty?” - I asked, widening my eyes - “You have your dick inside of me and you blush because of a compliment?”
He frowned at my reaction, bumping his nose against mine. “Hey.”
“No, I’m not making fun of you.” - I brushed my thumbs over his cheeks, shaking my head - “I’m just.. surprised.”
Spencer laid on top of my body, pressing a kiss right below my jaw. “I’m surprised you think I’m pretty.”
I furrowed my brows, forcing him to look at me. “I do. I think you’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” - he muttered against my lips, rolling his lips against mine to earn another whimper from me - “Can I move now? I’m desperate, love.”
Closing my legs around his waist again, I gave Spencer permission to move and he didn’t hesitate for one second. Pinning me down to the mattress with both his hands, Spencer made sure to remind me how it felt to be under his control.
I shuddered with desire, whimpering and crying out his name with my back arching off the bed. I was completely engulfed in the pleasure he was bringing me, feeling my thighs trembling around him and my fingers gripping his hands so tightly they were leaving marks on his skin.
Spencer dragged his teeth along the column of my throat, gently breaking the skin to make sure to leave marks all over me. The thought of walking out with his signs all over me drove me crazy with lust.
“Spencer.” I whined again
I tried to buck my hips against him to follow his movements, but Spencer didn’t want me to do anything. He wanted me to lay on the bed and take all of him until I couldn’t move, until I couldn’t breathe, until I couldn’t think of anything or anyone else but him.
And that’s what I needed, that’s what I was hoping he would give me.
“Please.” - I begged, completely breathless - “Please, Spencer.”
His hands didn’t let go of mine, pushing me against the bed. Spencer didn’t want me to move so I didn’t, lying helplessly underneath his taut body and welcoming him inside of me, stretching so perfectly around his cock.
“You sound so sweet when you beg.” - Spencer said against my lips, smiling - “You feel so fucking good. I can’t stop imagining how you’d look like full of my come. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
His lips travelled down the sensitive skin of my throat and I whimpered at the thought, scratching the back of his hand as I tried to lift my legs. I wanted him to come inside of me, I wanted him to make a mess between my legs, I wanted everything he could give me - and more.
So I begged again.
“Please. Yes, give it to me.”
Spencer hummed against my skin. “Yeah? Do you want me to come inside of you? Do you want me to fill you up with my come so deep?”
A chorus of curses and moans fell from my lips as the orgasm caught me off guard, making me lose my breath all at once. The noises coming out of my lips resembled his name mixed with other pleas that didn’t go unnoticed, but went straight to his hips.
Spencer kept thrusting inside of me, praising me as I came down from my high. My whole body was trembling around him as my eyes rolled in the back of my head, completely overwhelmed by the tingling desire running through me.
I was getting overly sensitive, but I didn’t ask Spencer to stop. I was too desperate to feel him coming inside of me to let him stop.
“Please, Spencer…”
I tensed under his body when I felt him going completely stiff, and then finally letting go of his own desire as it burned both of us. The tension snapped within his body and his thrust became brutal, purposeful, harder.
Spencer held me down against the bed as his warmth filled me up to the brim, dripping down the blankets and staining the towel he put underneath me. He kept whispering my name, over and over until the only sound crashing against my lips was a chorus of praises and kind words.
“That’s it, you did so good for me.”
I basked in his kindness, easing on the bed with my fingers intertwining with his.
“So, so fucking good for me.”
I didn’t move, taking all of him with my eyes on his face.
He looked ethereal with those hazel coloured irises staring into me, those long curls adorning his face and those plump, parted lips pressing softly against mine.
Spencer covered my lips in feverish kisses, slowing down his thrusts until he stopped completely and rested on top of my body. I let my legs fall back onto the bed as I closed my eyes, turning my head to the side.
I was exhausted, but deliciously satisfied by the mess we’ve made.
“I don’t want to move.”
Spencer had his head on my chest with my fingers immediately playing with his curls. His words made me giggle: of course he didn’t want to move, he was close to my breasts.
“Then don’t.”
“I have to, I don’t want to crush you.” - Spencer whispered, lifting his face to look at me - “I’m all sweaty.”
When he pulled out of me, I whined at the loss and immediately looked down to see the mess of our fluids spilling between my legs. Luckily, the towel didn’t move and nothing ruined the blanket underneath.
“You look really hot.” - I shrugged, biting my bottom lip - “Post-coital hotness. Is there something like that?”
“It’s the afterglow sensation that lingers after sex. This sexual satisfaction can remain elevated for 48 hours after sex and people with a stronger sexual afterglow report higher levels of relationship satisfaction months later.” - Spencer mumbled, rolling beside me on his bed - “It contributes to bonding with your partner.”
I remained quiet, listening to Spencer going back to his habit. Snuggling closer to him, I laid my head on his chest and listened to the sweet sound of his voice mixed with the slow beating of his heart.
Spencer looked down at me, running his fingers through his hair. “Also sexual afterglow can make you more productive at work and have a better mood in the following workdays.”
I raised my brows, lifting myself off the bed so that I could sit with my legs crossed. I was sore, every muscle in my legs was twitching and trembling.
“Are you suggesting we should have sex more often so we have a stronger afterglow and perform better at work?”
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, then he winked. “Maybe.”
I put a hand over my mouth. “How dare you suggest such… delirious, nefarious activity to a lady, Doctor Reid?”
He lifted both his hands, collapsing back on the bed. “Just thought I’d suggest something to you. I noticed you like making suggestions.”
“Okay, I get it. You’re never going to let it go.” - I rolled my eyes, straddling him and leaning forward - “But I accept your suggestion.”
Spencer hummed, smiling when I kissed him. “I’m not surprised.”
I playfully pinched his shoulder and pulled away from his body, struggling to jump off the bed. Still completely naked, I made my way to his bedroom to clean myself up - I didn’t know how I was able to move so easily.
My legs felt like jello, but it was the primal desire of cleaning myself and then getting back in bed to Spencer that pushed me to get out of his bedroom.
Once I got back on the bed, Spencer dragged me closer to him by the arm.
“I thought you wanted to finish the movie.” I said, raising my brows
“Please, don’t make me watch that thing anymore.” - Spencer begged, hiding my face in my chest - “Please. I’ll do anything.”
Closing my arms around his neck, I nodded. “Alright then. I’ll tell Penelope you used sex to prevent me from watching that movie.”
He shrugged, playfully biting the tender skin below my breast as I yelped. “I’m willing to take the risk.”
Maybe movie nights were going to become my favourite nights.
Please consider liking, reblogging, or commenting on the fic if you are on the taglist. Otherwise, you are essentially asking me to take an extra step to include you while offering me absolutely NOTHING in exchange, which is a pretty shitty feeling.
Summary: The BAU team just finished a case on the California coast and were rewarded with a couple days off for vacation, so Spencer's girlfriend convinced him to spend the day at the beach.
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem Reader
Category: Fluff, slight bit of angst with Spencers feelings towards the beach
Warnings: 13+, kissing/making out in public, slightly inappropriate thoughts in public
Word Count: 1.6k
AO3
“Are you sure about wanting to go to the beach? You do know we’re probably going to get sand in the food, potentially a sun burn which heightens your risk of melanoma, and not to mention the drug resistant bacteria that’s spread through seagull feces.” Spencer said with a glance down to his girlfriend, who stood beside him looking out at the ocean with a smile on her face.
“Spence, I’m sure. Remember half an hour ago when you told me we could do anything I wanted with our extra day off, and then when I said ‘are you sure, what if it’s something you don’t like’ and you told me you’ll like anything we end up doing because we’d be doing it together? This is what I choose. And we’re already here. I promise you I can help you enjoy the beach.” Y/n said back.
“I’m not sure,” Spencer said, biting his bottom lip in hesitation.
“Okay, how about this. Give it at least an hour, and if you’re really hating it we can just go for a stroll on the boardwalk and get some ice cream,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes.
Spencer always had trouble saying no when she gave him this look. Head tilted back so she could look up at him, brown eyes wide and reminiscent of a puppy, with a small pout. Usually she gave him this look when she was trying to convince him to order take out or to watch one of her favourite movies. And it was always a resounding yes, even if that movie was Mean Girls, and for the 5th time in a row. But they had never been to a location one of them had disliked before, so this was new territory for them.
“Okay. I can accept this compromise, but I make no promises,” he agreed with a sigh. Y/n jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands together like a kid who just received the best birthday present ever.
The excitement that y/n found in even the smallest moments was something about her that made Spencer just fall in love so much faster than he was used to. When she first started working for the BAU, covering JJ’s role as the media liaison, he was instantly infatuated. He liked to think he hid it well, but Derek would poke fun at his crush any chance he got.
When JJ came back from maternity leave and he saw her sitting in y/n’s chair, his heart skipped a beat. Thinking that he had missed his chance, that JJ was back to re-fill her roll and he would never see y/n again. Until she walked out of Hotch’s office five seconds later with the biggest grin on her face that he had ever seen.
Everyone in the bullpen had stopped to watch as she stood outside his door, jumping and squealing as if she had just found out she won the lottery. But really it was Spencer who had won, since she had been in a meeting with Hotch where he was offering her a full time position, thanks to JJ being promoted to a supervisory special agent.
Spencer asked her out that night, and they had been together ever since.
Now, Spencer held onto her waist as she rose up on her toes to give him an excited kiss after saying yes to the beach.
“Come on, it’s not that busy we can get a good spot down by the water!” She grabbed their two bags of beach supplied while he grabbed the small cooler full of drinks and snacks, then she led the way down the sand towards the calming blue waters.
He only tripped on the uneven sand a few times before y/n found a spot on the beach that was to her satisfaction. He watched as she dug out a big blanket and shook it out, placing it onto the ground and securing two corners with their bags. He placed the cooler on the third corner, and his shoes on the last.
Spencer had to admit, when he wasn’t thinking about potential bacterias in the sand, the warmth of it really did feel nice between his toes.
He took a seat on the blanket, watching as his girlfriend unpacked all of her beach essentials. Her Kindle, sunglasses, a small pillow to rest her head on while she tanned. And an umbrella that she aggressively stuck into the sand, casting their spot in a shadow that Spencer was grateful for. It wasn’t the hottest day out, but the sun could burn you even behind the clouds.
Spencer didn’t bring any of his books to the beach, not wanting them to get covered in sand that would inevitably make its way back to their hotel room. Instead he opted to people watch. Or more specifically, girlfriend watch. His eyes were drawn away from the water and towards her when she started to take off her clothes to reveal her bikini. A deep red with white stripes, it reminded Spencer of a candy cane and it made his mouth water.
She caught him looking at her chest, and when he didn’t look away, she smirked.
“Spencer, get those thoughts out of your head, we’re in public,” she laughed.
“What thoughts?” He asked innocently, finally looking to her eyes, and at the quirk of her eyebrow he gave in. “Sorry. But it’s hard when my girlfriend is most beautiful girl here.”
Y/n blushed and glanced around at the other people dotting the beach. Given that it was the middle of a work day in May, it was mostly young families and retired old couples walking up and down the sand for their daily exercise. But she took the complement in stride.
“Keep buttering me up like that and we’re going to be leaving earlier than an hour and skipping the ice cream as well.” Y/n leaned over Spencer, bringing herself closer to kiss him.
They might have been in public, but Spencer couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in closer as he got lost in their kiss. Y/n nipped at his bottom lip, sending a shiver down his spine. He ran his hands along her body, enjoying the feel of all her skin thanks to the small bikini. They came to a stop on her butt, which felt as if there was no fabric there at all thanks to the style that she chose, so he squeezed. She let out a quiet moan, which fuelled him even further. Shoving his tongue in her mouth with a new fever, he tightened his grip on her butt in preparation to pull her fully on top of him, but before he could they were interrupted by a kid screaming not too far away.
Y/n broke away, panting, as she looked down the beach at the kids playing. Nobody was giving them any dirty looks for so much PDA in public, but Spencer still let go of his hold on her, guiding her to lay down beside him as he put her arm around her instead.
It took a few minutes for their breathing to return to normal, both of them with their eyes closed enjoying the warmth of the sun on their bodies.
“I think I could enjoy the beach,” Spencer broke the silence. Y/n propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.
“Yeah? So does that mean we can stay longer than an hour?”
“Actually, after the hour I was thinking we could go back to our hotel room and have a different kind of fun,” he smirked at her, lazily running his fingers up and down her arm.
“Oh! I like that idea,” Y/n blushed, thinking about reenacting what they just did on the beach but in the privacy of their room, and continuing on without any interruptions. “But first we’ve got to make the most of the beach. Let’s go for a swim!”
She jumped up off the blanket and Spencer watched as her hips swung while she ran towards the water.
“Come on!” She stopped a few feet before the water, turning back to yell at him. “Take that shirt off and come for a swim with me.” Then she spun back around and ran into the ocean until she couldn’t run anymore, and dove in.
It had been a while since Spencer had been in the ocean, or even a swimming pool, and he kind of craved the feeling of being weightless in the water. He pulled off his shirt and ran to meet her. It was cold and a shock to the system as he dove into the water, but it helped cool off his thoughts of what he would be doing to her an hour from now.
They didn’t go in too deep, which made it easier for Spencer to sneak up behind her and lift her over his shoulder. Y/n let out a yell as he spun around and tossed her into the water.
“That’s not fair, I can’t lift you like that,” she said when she resurfaced. Then as he was distracted about to apologize she splashed him with as much water as she could manage. Which wasn’t as much as he probably could have done, but it was enough to get some of the salty water into his mouth.
Y/n laughed as he spit it out and wiped the water off his face. But then he was on her in a second, tickling her sides and making her squeal in laughter.
“I surrender, I surrender!” She managed to say between breaths of laughter. Spencer stopped his attack and pulled her into his chest for a hug.
“I love you.” He said with a kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you too. Thank you for enduring the beach for me,” Y/n said, squeezing him a little bit tighter.
Summary: When Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry, he didn’t realize how difficult it would be when he confronted his wife… and learned it didn’t belong to her, either. It belonged to their daughter.
Request: reader and Spencer are happily married and have a 16-year daughter. She has a new boyfriend (her first boyfriend) and her parents are worried. They meet the boyfriend.
A/N: Who doesn't love a little Dad!Spencer?
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Domestic Fluff (16+)
Content Warning: Awkwardness, father & daughter relationship, protective Dad Spencer, lingerie, meeting the parents, firearms mention, Spencer finds his daughter’s lingerie and thinks his wife is cheating on him, it’s hard to explain, mentions of sexual themes, innocent kissing
Word Count: 3.7k
There is something so mundane yet so serene about suburban life. That idyllic air that carried small bits of freshly mown grass and children’s laughter. That wasn’t to say that my life was uneventful, however.
After all, it would be nearly impossible to have a boring life while married to Spencer Reid.
But it was rare for me to feel any level of discomfort as I patrolled familiar halls. Mild annoyance, maybe, but never before had I felt such a sense of foreboding.
Not until that fateful day where I arrived home from errands to find that the clean laundry has already been pulled from the dryer. That in itself wasn’t bad—I was more than happy to let someone else do the folding—yet when I walked up the stairs, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention.
“Spencer?” I called.
“In here,” he answered without his normal enthusiasm.
Now that was unnerving.
The situation only got worse when I did finally open the door to find him awkwardly pacing around the room. My attention followed him back and forth a couple times before he came to a sudden stop.
“Hi honey,” I offered as gently as I could, “What’s up?”
“Hi,” he replied, still dejected and distant. He didn’t come any closer to me before he began fiddling with his fingers.
After a tense moment of silence, I asked again, more directly, “Are you alright, Spencer?”
“I have something very difficult to discuss with you, and I-I just want to ask for you to be patient with me.”
My heart sunk at the realization that the sense of foreboding was coming from him. The muscles straight up stopped beating, turned to rocks, and tumbled into my stomach.
I shook my head to try to stave off the stupor associated with shock.
“What are you talking about?” I asked because I needed to know just how much my simple suburban life was about to change.
Was he cheating on me? Was he going back to prison? Were their federal agents standing outside, ready to tear our family from our home?
When he finally began to speak, however, it was far from a satisfying explanation.
“I know I’m not always the best husband, and I know I can be absent and that the stress of the job and the kids and the state of the entire world, really, can get in the way of our time together,” he said with an increasing tempo.
“Spencer,” I said as a beg and a warning, “Just say it.”
He held his hands up in surrender as he pleaded back, “Please, just…”
I could feel my pulse in every extremity. My skin burned with blood and my lungs cried out for oxygen.
“I know you, I do,” he assured me before he continued, “and I know this sounds so unbelievably horrible for me to even accuse you of something like this, but…”
Me?
In that terrifying silence, I ran through our lifetime of memories to try to find something I might have done wrong. But no matter how hard I searched, I found nothing that might make him want to leave me like this.
Unless…
And then he said it.
“Are you… cheating on me?”
So quickly, my fear shifted to white-hot rage that came out of my mouth so ungracefully that I nearly knocked the lamp off the bedside table in my confusion.
“What?! No!” I shrieked, “Oh my god, what made you think that?!”
At first, Spencer relaxed. The veracity of my answer had been convincing because it had been true. But Spencer, clearly still concerned that I was somehow an award-worthy actress, continued to wring his hands together throughout his poorly planned confrontation.
“I, um… I found… lingerie. In the laundry,” he said with a tilted timbre. “And I know I’ve never seen it on you before, and I also know it wasn’t new.”
The busy blood in my veins immediately knew to cower. Before it had even struck me how utterly fucked I was, I was practically trembling with concern.
Spencer saw the fear, and instead of realizing it was about what he had no way of knowing, he interpreted it as a different kind of admission.
“So, whose is it?” he asked.
Stepping towards the bed, I motioned for him to take a seat. When he didn’t? I urged him, “Honey, sit down.”
“… Oh,” he muttered before practically collapsing on the bed.
Slightly annoyed by the dramatics, I rolled my eyes and sighed before I explained, “No, not that.”
He didn’t believe me, so I sighed again.
“Spencer, I am not cheating on you.”
That time, he sighed. I let him enjoy the brief reprieve before I threw him headlong into the worst kind of turmoil.
“What you found… isn’t mine,” I stated very clearly.
“But—?”
“It belongs to our daughter.”
The room fell silent. I watched as the realization dawned on him. Slowly, his glazed over eyes began to reflect the harrowing reality.
Then, all at once, his entire world came to a devastating end. Jumping up from his seat on the bed, Spencer grabbed his head and yelled in utter disbelief.
“What?!”
“Spencer, calm down,” I tried.
It didn’t work.
“What do you—she’s only 16! What do you mean it’s her—?!”
I watched from the sidelines as his brain short circuited. He tried to pace, but ended up just trapped in the same spot with flailing arms and wild hair.
Eventually, he settled on the question that had made me so nervous in the first place.
“Where did she even get it from?!”
“I bought it for her,” I said.
The fight left his body immediately. Spencer fell back on the bed and buried his face in his hands with a dramatic groan.
I sighed, again.
I was fully prepared to let him wallow in the grief of his daughter’s childhood, too. But then he had to go and say something silly again.
“Oh my god, I wish you had been cheating on me,” he strained, “That would have been so much easier than this.”
“Spencer!”
“I’m sorry!” he conceded immediately, “I didn’t mean it. I love you, I’m glad you aren’t cheating on me.”
Despite his well-intentioned apology, he remained inconsolable. I thought about giving him a moment to spiral, but I also knew that this was a bandaid that had practically fused into his skin.
At a certain point, it just became necessary for us to discuss it—with or without the dramatics.
“I know this is upsetting for you, but our daughter is almost a grown woman,” I explained to my pitiful husband who continued to make sounds of general protest. “I don’t want her to think of her body as anything less than something worth feeling good about.”
Finally popping up from behind his hands, he returned a bitter laugh.
“Okay, but is she doing it to make herself feel good, or to please some piece of shit asshole quarterback?” he spat.
He didn’t appreciate the way it made me laugh, but I couldn’t help it. It was a ridiculous notion and he deserved to be mocked for it.
“Spencer, your daughter would not be interested in a quarterback.”
He knew I was right, but in typical Spencer fashion, he refused to admit it.
Instead, he just huffed, “How would I know?!”
But I knew he would, eventually, respond to reason, so I didn’t relent no matter how much he begged me to.
“Sex shouldn’t be a scary thing for a teenage girl! I wanted her to know she can feel comfortable telling me things. Like if she needs condoms or the pill or, heaven forbid—!”
“Oh my god, please stop,” he groaned, “Just, give me a second, please!”
I allowed him the moment because I knew he needed it.
Sure enough, after a couple seconds of reflection and a few deep breaths, Spencer returned to his normal eccentricity. He even managed to chuckle to himself a little bit, although I’m sure he’d still felt his dramatics were justified.
He didn’t protest when I took a seat beside him on the bed. In fact, he was quick to lean on me.
I wrapped my arms around him and tried to stifle my laughter at how downtrodden he’d become. My hand smoothed over his hand and I tried to offer him reassurance that everything would be alright if our daughter grew up.
“Oh, honey, nothing has changed. She’s still our baby girl,” I reminded him.
“I know,” he sighed. Then, through laughter he muttered, “It was just a lot for me to go from thinking you secretly hated me to our daughter wearing lingerie, alright? It’s a lot.”
He buried his face against my shoulder and took another deep breath before he held me back. The simple gesture reminded me just how much he’d probably been through in past hour. Of course, it had all been self-inflicted and based on comical perceptions. But it was a lot, and I always loved the chance to comfort him.
We sat like that for a while. We sat with the knowledge that we’d made it this far. There was something special about this fear, because it meant that we had done at least a few things right.
That didn’t really help assuage any of the fears for the future, however.
“Is she having sex?” he asked.
I wished I had a better answer.
“I don’t know,” I admitted with an exhausted groan, “My plan didn’t work. She won’t tell me anything.”
“What do we do?”
It was a question I’d spent hours pondering only to end on the same-old, unsatisfying answer.
“I guess we just… wait until she’s ready to tell us about her boyfriend.”
Silently, Spencer lifted his head and turned to me. The foreboding returned with a vengeance, but this time, I was prepared for the question to follow.
“… her what?”
I’d always heard people say that domestic suburban life could be hell on earth. I’d always shrugged it off, convinced that I had figured out the impossible and remained happily in love with my wife and the proud father of a very well-adjusted daughter.
But as I stood in my bedroom, bereft of even the basic will to live while my beautiful, loving wife fixed my tie, I realized that they had been right.
Fatherhood was hell, and my wife was the devil’s favorite accomplice.
On any other occasion, her preening would have me melting between deft fingers. In that moment, however, I felt nothing but disdain at her attention to detail.
Because she was not doing it for my benefit. She was doing it so that my disheveled appearance wouldn’t upset another man. A cruel man who sought to steal away the brightest light of my life.
That night I had to meet my daughter’s very first boyfriend.
“Are you ready?” my wife asked.
“No, you took away my gun,” I replied with the utmost sincerity.
Clever eyes darted up to mine before she laughed. The sound brought me little comfort. I tried to be upset at how she took joy in my suffering, but my lips turned to a pout before a frown.
“Yes, you’re very scary, dear,” she hummed.
Then, without warning, she pressed her lips to mine. Perfectly painted lips felt different but still tasted sweet.
Those damned fingers smoothed over my shoulders until stern muscles relaxed once more.
Eventually they crept up and cupped my jaw. Gently—at first.
So quickly they turned brutal, pressing hard enough on my cheeks to force another pout from tired lips.
“He’s a sweet boy and you’re going to be nice to him, alright?” she warned.
If she hadn’t been squeezing me so tightly, she would’ve seen me smile.
“We’ll see about that,” I deadpanned.
Again, she laughed, and that time, it brought me all the comfort I could ever need.
That darling devil of a woman stole one more kiss before she whispered, “Good enough.”
For a moment, it was. But then the doorbell rang and, despite all her efforts to lift up a heavy heart, it still plummeted to my stomach at the sound.
So quickly, my favorite girls had fled towards the door and left me frozen in the lurch. My hands and feet felt numb as my heart tried to reason with a stubborn mind.
There were some things a father had to eventually face.
My little girl was growing up, and my bad knee probably wouldn’t survive the jump out of a second story window.
There was only one way out of this. I had to go through it all.
I could hear their voices, so full of joy and love that it made me ache at the thought of losing half of it.
But deep down, I knew that I risked losing her regardless of how much I resisted the boy she’d chosen.
So, eventually, I managed to shuffle stubborn feet down the hall and towards the living room.
Somewhat to my surprise, the boy’s presence was hardly noted. In fact, if my wife hadn’t been making such a fuss about the bouquet he’d handed her, I might have even missed him.
We locked eyes from across the room. The poor boy’s muscles seized in an instant. His shoulders crept towards his ears and he lost the battle of keeping his eyes on me.
There was a distant, fleeting feeling at the sight. Something not easily described, which made my palms sweaty.
My eyes almost fell to the floor, too, but they were stopped by the sight of my daughter. Seemingly unaware of my gaze, she’d thrown her arms around the boy the first moment that she could.
Again, my heart ached with a confounding feeling. With narrowed eyes and a fast-beating heart, I struggled to place it.
Thankfully, my wife was quick to interrupt before the two had caught me staring.
Before she called us all to dinner, though, I spotted that same wistful twinkling in her eye. She had simply been better at hiding it than me.
For that same reason, I let her take charge. I sat almost silent, successfully biting my tongue to save my daughter from the embarrassment of my unbridled enthusiasm.
Of course, her pride hadn’t been the only reason that I’d hardly spoken. There had been a couple more selfish desires.
The first was my unwaning concern about any boy who’d so much as looked at my daughter. However unlikely it might have been, I had to be certain that this boy was as harmless as he seemed.
My mind began running a million scenarios of increasing horror. Yet right before the fateful final moment, the theoretical fell flat.
There was, to my relief, almost nothing disconcerting about the boy.
Almost.
There was still… that funny feeling.
“Dr. Reid?”
The sound of a familiar moniker in an unfamiliar place—from an increasingly familiar voice.
“Hm?” I answered the boy.
“I hope it doesn’t sound rude, but I looked you up before I came,” he said with the telltale crackling of a nervous teenage boy.
“I don’t think it’s rude,” I said.
That’s what I would have done, was the unspoken realization.
“Well, that’s a relief,” he laughed.
My wife and daughter stifled a chuckle as they exchanged a secret set of glances that I didn’t understand.
“Your writing is way more advanced than my reading level,” the boy continued, “but I did try to read some of them. Your philosophy papers seemed so…”
He struggled to find the next word. His face twisted between a smile and something similar to a flinch. I recognized the hesitance like a mirror to the past.
“Would… hopeful be the right word?” he asked.
“Yes!” I shouted, to my own surprise.
And that boy’s face lit up like a properly screwed lightbulb from one of my very poorly received philosophy jokes.
I had become so excited by the prospect of being understood—for once—by someone so young and green that I could hardly contain my excitement.
“Which paper did you—?”
I cut myself off when I heard a soft sigh from the boy’s side.
At first, I’d thought that it was my daughter trying to warn me of my first social faux pas of the evening. But I was instead pleasantly surprised to find her contented smile. Although, it was aimed at someone else.
“No, please,” the boy beamed, “I want to hear about all of them.”
I contained the buzzing in my fingertips that tapped against the table. I turned to my wife for permission, but her slight nod didn’t provide me the confidence to continue.
It wasn’t enough until my daughter blurted out, “Go ahead, dad. I know what I signed up for.”
What confounding words to be uttered so simply. I didn’t dare question them then.
Instead, I answered his question. I spoke at length and about anything he could remember. To my surprise, the conversation wasn’t nearly as one or two sided as I’d expected.
By my daughters third question, I was forced to accept that she really had been listening to me all those years while staring down at her phone.
My wife had been the quietest person at the table. The whole dinner, she just seemed to lean back and admire the scene before her. But behind each sip from her glass, I spotted a cheeky smile that appeared alongside that wistful distance in her eyes.
I decided I would ask her later what she saw.
Later came sooner than expected, however. The summer sun had long since set when an unfamiliar phone dinged.
“Oh, sorry, it’s my mom,” the boy muttered. There was a brief disappointment that seemed to dissipate the moment he read the message. “I should really get going, anyway. I don’t want to take up your whole night with my curiosity.”
“He really would talk forever if you let him,” my daughter said under her breath.
I assumed it had been a comment about me.
I was wrong.
“It’s just not very often I get to ask a philosopher for his thoughts, okay?” he chuckled.
He must’ve felt my dumbstruck staring, however, because he stopped himself. He straightened his back the best he could but his hand still trembled when he reached out to me to shake it.
“It really was nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” he offered.
I was too frozen by the shock of how many mistaken assumptions I’d made in such a short period of time to respond. I glanced down at his hand and recalled a time where I was adamant that I wouldn’t shake a strangers hand.
That hadn’t been true anymore (thanks to my very supportive wife and therapist), but my daughter still recognized the ghost of hesitance.
One stern look from her made me spring into action.
His hand was warm and softer than mine. The only calluses were caused by a firm grip on a pencil rather than a gun. There was nothing worrisome about the way he tried to follow every instruction manual for handshaking.
He was, as my wife had put it, a sweet boy.
“It was very nice to meet you, too,” I returned. Then, knowing how much it would mean to them both, I smiled as I added, “I look forward to next time.”
Their responses were everything I had predicted, and it was entirely worth whatever germs might have been transferred.
The moment I turned my attention away from them, I watched from the corner of my eye as they excitedly squeezed each others hands until their whole bodies were bouncing.
“I’ll walk you to your car!” my not-so-little girl shouted.
It was less walking and more dragging until he managed to catch up to her.
The sight tugged once more at my heart. That strange feeling crept forward again and I tried to find its name as the front door clicked shut.
My wife swiftly ended the thought, however, by grabbing my hand and taking off towards the stairs.
“Come on!” she half-whispered between her tugging and my stumbling.
“Where are we going?!”
“We’re going to spy on them!” she now fully yelled, “Hurry up!”
In a fit of laughter and with our hands never breaking apart, we did just that. We booked it up to the master bedroom and—with the lights still off—my wife’s clever fingers pried apart the blinds just enough for us to peer through them.
The suburban summer night was almost quiet enough to hear them make their inevitably awkward goodbyes. The soft glow of carefully placed streetlights painted my daughter in an even more beautiful light, and I could tell the boy in front of her appreciated it for everything that it was.
Yet he turned away from her first, with his hand lingering in hers.
Somehow, I knew what would happen before it did. Sure enough, my daughter refused to let go. She used that hesitance to leave and pulled him right back to her and straight into a quick, chaste kiss.
And that was when I realized what that feeling had been. That lurid memory, the subtle glowing of my heart, was the familiarity of it all.
The scene unfolded like a home movie ripped straight from my memory.
In perfect synchrony with that epiphany, my wife released a dreamy sigh.
“Do you remember when that was us?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I laughed, “I do.”
I remembered it all with perfect clarity, despite how far away it had fallen. I dragged the memories back up with the same insistence that my wife had used to bring me to that moment.
I remembered the butterflies in my stomach and the anxiety of knowing that I was madly in love with a woman that was much too good for me. I also remembered how it felt to clamor back into my car and have to drive away from her with the taste of transferred lipgloss on my lips.
As the boy drove away, I felt a wave of relief ushered on by my wife’s comforting embrace.
“I think they’re going to be okay,” she whispered.
“Yeah. Me too,” I agreed.
We’d seen it happen before.
(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
Looking for more to read? Check out my CM Father's Day Rec List here! It has SFW and NSFW categories.
Summary: Spencer needs a cuddle after getting home from a rough case
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Comfort
Word count: 588
Spencer finally got home after a long jet ride. The case was grueling but successful. He dumps his satchel on the nearby chair. He spots you immediately on the couch, reading a book while wearing one of his old sweatshirts. You loved this sweatshirt the most because it was long enough to not wear pants. Spencer liked it for that reason too, but he was too tired to do anything beyond admiration. He smiled when you looked up at him. “Welcome back.” You say. His hand is on your shoulder and you rub his arm. He’s warm.
“Good to be back.” He glances down at the book you’re reading. “George R. R. Martin?”
“It was on your shelf, so I figured why not?”
“You mind taking a break?”
You look up at him and before he says anything else, he’s moving to the other side of the couch. He sits in the middle, putting your right leg in his lap. You put the book down and see. “Was it a rough case?”
Spencer nods, looking down at his hands.
“We can go to bed, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
Spencer shakes his head, pushing his shoes off by the heels and letting them thump on the floor. He crawls across your body and lays his head on your chest. The weight is pleasant, and you never miss an opportunity to play with his hair. So you put the book on the floor, and he doesn’t protest. George R. R. Martin has never been a favorite. You place it flat to bookmark where you left off. You settle into the couch arm. Spencer wraps his arms around you, occupying the open space between your back and the couch. You pull your legs up to encase him, wrapping him in warmth. He exhales. “You smell good.”
“Thank you.” You say. “Is it wrong to say I used your shower while you were gone?”
He shrugs. “No. Wish I was here for it.”
You scoff, pulling on a piece of hair as punishment, but he knows he’s not in trouble. Spencer looks up, his chin on your sternum, and pushes his lips out with his eyes half open. You push your head down as best you can to kiss him. It’s a light peck, but he accepts it happily. “You sure you don’t want to go to bed?” You rub his back with your other hand.
He rests his head on your chest again. “Can we just stay here a little?" He sounded quiet, weak. You didn’t want to ask about the case but you know it hit closer to home than he liked. That’s when he gets like this, so you don’t ask further. “I won’t fall asleep, I promise.”
“You can if you want to.” You say, brushing strands of hair from his face. “I don’t mind.”
“No, last time I got a terrible crick in my neck. Just ten minutes, okay?” You huff some air out of your nose and kiss his scalp. “You might end up hurting yourself first if you keep doing that.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not.” He shuffles up a little to make it easier to reach. You tighten your legs around him, only a little, but enough to leave zero room between your bodies. Spencer burrows further into his favorite spot.
With the morning sun warming your skin you slowly began waking up. Spencer was still sleeping peacefully beside you when your eyes fluttered open. You closed the distance between the two of you, nestling into his side while you placed a soft kiss on his neck.
Your palm brushed over his chest and further down his body, lingering on his lower stomach. Feeling his warmth and breathing in his scent made your skin tingle. He seemed to be far away from waking up while your whole body began feeling like it was on fire.
You dared to let your fingertips move further down his body, a silent gasp falling from your lips once you discovered his morning glory straining firmly against his pajama shorts. Spencer had made it clear before that he enjoyed it when you used his body for your own pleasure, encouraging you to do what you had in mind right then.
Without hesitation you let your fingertips brush over his clothed erection, careful not to wake him up just yet. The urge to feel him without any barriers became overwhelming so you pulled on his shorts just enough to free his hardness.
He felt hot and heavy in your hand as you wrapped your fingers around him. Spencer was still asleep when you began slowly stroking along his velvety skin until the tip began leaking. Once you let your thumb glide over the most sensitive part of his cock, you noticed how Spencer's breathing quickened slightly.
While you kept caressing him you pressed your thighs together in excitement, aware how much you longed to feel him inside you. Pleasuring him while he was still fast asleep was enough for your underwear to get soaked with your arousal. Your free hand snuck down between your own legs to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.
After a couple of moments you decided that you couldn't take it anymore.
With careful movements you pulled back the blanket to climb into Spencer’s lap. To your surprise he didn't wake up, although it seemed like it wouldn't take much longer then. Quickly you pushed aside your panties before you let the tip of his cock glide though your slick folds.
With your hand wrapped around his base you guided him to your entrance to slowly sink down on his cock. Taking a moment to adjust to the sensation of being completely filled out, you noticed how his hardness twitched against your tight walls. As you began rocking your hips against his, you decided to not hold back any longer.
Within seconds of your first moan escaping your throat you felt his hands make contact with your hips. His eyes shot open, the way he looked at you making it obvious that it took him a moment to realize that this was not just a dream.
You halted your motions for a second to coo, "Do you like that, sleepy boy?"
"Yes," he groaned, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You feel so good."
His fingertips buried into the soft flesh of your hips, holding onto you tightly as you began accelerating your pace once more.
"I couldn’t wait to feel you inside me," you breathed. "You looked so pretty."
"Fuck!" He sighed as if to answer you.
His hands moved from your hips under the hem of your sleeping shirt to caress your chest. When he began teasing the hardened peaks of your breasts, you praised him with the sweet sounds of your pleasure. Spencer looked so beautiful with his disheveled hair and a rosy shade spread all over his cheeks.
He had trouble keeping his eyes open but tried anyway. His pupils were dilated to the brim, almost completely swallowing the warm amber of his irises. When his whole body began trembling underneath you, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.
"I'm so close," he whimpered.
You were dancing along the edge as well, your walls tightening around his cock. His hands left your chest so he could hold onto your hips instead. He began bucking upwards to meet your movements, thrusting into you almost erratically.
"Come inside me," you whined. "I need it, please."
With that any remaining tension left Spencer's body as he released his essence into you. Feeling him throbbing inside you let you find relief as well, your core pulsing around him as you entered a state of pure bliss. Together you rode out your highs, prolonging each other's ecstasy with slowed-down motions.
When both of you had nothing left to give, you collapsed into his arms breathlessly, finding your home inside his embrace. His fingertips danced over your back while you placed tender pecks on his cheek. Spencer turned his head to find your lips in a gentle kiss.
"Good morning," you mumbled against his lips and he began chuckling.
"Good morning indeed."
If you enjoyed this story you should check out my other somno fic (Don't) Wake Me.
Summary: Spencer needs a cuddle after getting home from a rough case
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Comfort
Word count: 588
~🩵~🩵~🩵~
Spencer finally got home after a long jet ride. The case was grueling but successful. He dumps his satchel on the nearby chair. He spots you immediately on the couch, reading a book while wearing one of his old sweatshirts. You loved this sweatshirt the most because it was long enough to not wear pants. Spencer liked it for that reason too, but he was too tired to do anything beyond admiration. He smiled when you looked up at him. “Welcome back.” You say. His hand is on your shoulder and you rub his arm. He’s warm.
“Good to be back.” He glances down at the book you’re reading. “George R. R. Martin?”
“It was on your shelf, so I figured why not?”
“You mind taking a break?”
You look up at him and before he says anything else, he’s moving to the other side of the couch. He sits in the middle, putting your right leg in his lap. You put the book down and see. “Was it a rough case?”
Spencer nods, looking down at his hands.
“We can go to bed, so you’ll be more comfortable.”
Spencer shakes his head, pushing his shoes off by the heels and letting them thump on the floor. He crawls across your body and lays his head on your chest. The weight is pleasant, and you never miss an opportunity to play with his hair. So you put the book on the floor, and he doesn’t protest. George R. R. Martin has never been a favorite. You place it flat to bookmark where you left off. You settle into the couch arm. Spencer wraps his arms around you, occupying the open space between your back and the couch. You pull your legs up to encase him, wrapping him in warmth. He exhales. “You smell good.”
“Thank you.” You say. “Is it wrong to say I used your shower while you were gone?”
He shrugs. “No. Wish I was here for it.”
You scoff, pulling on a piece of hair as punishment, but he knows he’s not in trouble. Spencer looks up, his chin on your sternum, and pushes his lips out with his eyes half open. You push your head down as best you can to kiss him. It’s a light peck, but he accepts it happily. “You sure you don’t want to go to bed?” You rub his back with your other hand.
He rests his head on your chest again. “Can we just stay here a little?" He sounded quiet, weak. You didn’t want to ask about the case but you know it hit closer to home than he liked. That’s when he gets like this, so you don’t ask further. “I won’t fall asleep, I promise.”
“You can if you want to.” You say, brushing strands of hair from his face. “I don’t mind.”
“No, last time I got a terrible crick in my neck. Just ten minutes, okay?” You huff some air out of your nose and kiss his scalp. “You might end up hurting yourself first if you keep doing that.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Absolutely not.” He shuffles up a little to make it easier to reach. You tighten your legs around him, only a little, but enough to leave zero room between your bodies. Spencer burrows further into his favorite spot.
can you do 69 and 1 (stop the teasing, please…, never tease me like that again.)
i literally scream every time you post and i absolutely love your work 🫶🫶🫶
Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
i’m so glad you like my writing omg!! sorry this took a while 😭 🫶🏼 i hope you enjoy!
Prompt 69 : stop the teasing please…
Prompt 1: never tease me like that again.
cw 18+ minors dni. sub!spence, kissing, handjobs and whatnot hhehe
you and spencer had been cuddling on the couch watching movies for almost an hour now. 30 minutes in you had started rubbing his things, innocently at first, but then gradually moving you hand further up his leg until you were ghosting over his bulge.
“stop the teasing, please…” he whined as you gripped him softly through his trousers.
“but teasing you is so fun..” you purred into his ear, rubbing his cock through his pants tantalisingly, smiling at the quiet moans slipping out of his mouth. you caught his lips in a kiss as you put more pressure on his clothed cock, enjoying how he moaned into your mouth and bucked his hips up into your hand.
you moved your kisses down his neck so he could moan freely and began to unbutton his trousers. he whimpered as you freed his leaking cock from the confines of his clothes, stroking up it slowly and running your thumb over the sensitive head.
“please.. just-“ he moaned out as you gripped him tighter, running your hand up his length even slower at his begging.
“you sound so pretty when you beg sweetheart..” you cooed, reaching the top of his cock and rubbing your cupped hand over the head, letting out a moan yourself at the way his hips bucked and writhed.
unable to help yourself, you caught his parted lips in a passionate kiss, all but devouring him as you pushed yourself flush against him - drinking in all his moans and whimpers hungrily as you continued teasing his cock.
your kisses traveled further down, over his neck and collerbones, low enough to feel his heart pumping faster as you squeezed the base of him gently before running your hand up again. spencer’s body felt warm all over as you continued caressing him, his impending release becoming harder to hold off as you suddenly made eye contact with him when you sucked down harshly on the pale flesh of his chest.
“are you close baby?” you questioned coyly, already knowing the answer from the blissed out expression on his face. just as he was about to let go, you too let go, releasing his cock from your grasp cutting of his orgasm. he whined loudly at the denial, tears springing into his eyes out how close he got and how fast it was ripped away.
“why!!” he exclaimed pitifully, looking up at you with tears in his big eyes.
“i told you spence, it’s fun to tease you!” you replied as you suddenly gripped him again, smirking at the way his head threw back with a loud moan.
this time your motions were faster, pushing him quickly into his orgasm, letting his cum paint your hand and his chest as he reached his climax. even after the liquid had stopped pumping out you continued to stoke him, his hips bucking and writhing with the overstimulation. his moans because the most delicious whines and whimpers as you continued your movements on his spent cock, holding down his shuddering things as he came again, white hot pleasure erupting in him.
he shook lightly as you finally removed your hand from him, whimpers still falling out of his open mouth as you placed soft kisses all over his sweaty face.
“sweet boy, you did so well..” you murmured inbetween gentle kisses.
“never tease me like that again.” he panted out as he finally controlled his breathing again. though despite his words, a dopey smile was gracing his flushed face. you leaned over to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
“no promises..”
——————
he’s such a pretty boy i just wanna hageiahsgwiauwghwus
mmm i wanna do these with sub!spence x reader 🙀 give me number and i’ll do it!!!
Summary: Spencer and Reader have a perfect day together and cling to each other under their sweet nothings
Word Count: 4K
Content Warnings: incredibly cheesy and borderline saccharine, smut (oral sex- female receiving, sexual intercourse, dirty talk but very sweet and romantic, breeding kink but it’s like sweet and cute) basically this is entirely self fulfilling and indulgent
The Final Draft
My hair stuck to the soft cotton pillow case as I rolled over to my side. I landed into Spencer’s warm, welcoming yet sleeping figure. He hummed in his sleep, unconsciously enveloping me into his strong frame. With my chest flush to his, I gently wrapped your arm around his upper torso and casually draped my leg over his much longer ones.
He was always warm, nearly burning, when he slept. Long ago Spencer hand abandoned sleeping in a shirt, opting for either simply boxers or old, worn plaid pajama pants. His chest was smooth and strong, and each wrinkle, scar, stretch mark reminded me of all my years spent loving him. Sometimes, when I looked at him, it just reminded me that I was simply too soft for all of it. And Spencer Reid, just might be the softest and most gentle of them all.
“G’ morning,” Spencer mumbled, sleep was still evident in his voice, “how long did you stare at me for?” He asked.
“Not long enough to admire how pretty you are, fiancé” I quipped, reaching over to the night stand to put the shimmering ring on my finger.
“Let me,” Spencer interrupted, grabbing the ring and placing it on my ring finger himself. He smiled to himself and it seemed like it was one of those smiles that was intended to be private. I watched the way his lipped curved upward as he held my hand in his palm. He has always touched me with the most love and adoration, but there was something different about the way he touched my hand when he slipped my engagement ring onto my finger.
“There,” Spencer said, “It’s back where it’s supposed to be.” He kissed my hand, the sweetness of the gesture making an embarrassed heat crawl up my face and into my ears.
“You know you don’t have to do that every time,” you muttered, covering my face as if it could possibly shield me from Spencer’s unabashed affections.
Spencer swung his legs over my frame so his body caged mine. He kissed my hairline and then down to the bridge of my nose. I brought my hand to his cheek, brushing my thumb against his cheekbone. He closed his eyes at the gesture, basking in my gentle touch as if he could commit it to memory. And if there was a person who could, it would most certainly be Spencer.
“I do.” Spencer said, the irony of his words not lost on either of me. He smirked, peppering kisses down my throat. “You’re going to be my wife. And I want to spoil you completely rotten with fancy jewelry and all the iced lattes and books you could ever want.”
“Hmm,” I said, brushing my hands through the mess of brown curls on Spencer’s head, “you sound like a man you want a handjob with the hand with the huge rock you bought me.”
“As tempting as that sounds,” Spencer started, he lifted up my sleep shirt to stick his head underneath the soft, cotton fabric and place wet kisses against my belly, “all I can think about would be the staggering amount of germs collecting on your ring. And I don’t think either of us want me focusing on the amount of bacteria per square nanometer on your ring while you're stroking my dick.”
“God, I love you and your weird, wonderful mind,” I laughed, hauling Spencer up by his face to finally kiss him. I felt teeth and his soft lips in the kiss. It was a mix of sweet and something less sweet, as it usually was when I kissed Spencer.
“Ha, thank you very much,” Spencer quipped back, quickly kissing your cheek as a chaste thank you, “but I’d much rather go down on you anyway.” He grinned in a smile that spread throughout his entire face and, of course, leaked to mine.
“And what about the germs from that, Spence,” you teased, knowing that even Spencer Reid could make a couple excuses for germs when it came to me.
“That’s neither here nor there.” Spencer said, brushing you off as his hands traveled down to my pajama pants, “How fond are you of these pajamas. Because I want you so bad, I’m ready to rip them to shreds to get your pussy.” He lamented.
His eyes bore fire into my belly as he stared at me down, clearly waiting for an answer.
“Quite fond, honey. But there’s other things I’m more fond of, if we’re being honest here.” I confessed, dragging my fingertips up and down Spencer’s smooth chest. He had a dusting of hair that led down to where his pants hung dangerously low on his hips.
“Hmm, well you’re lucky because you're too cute for your own good in those little shorts, I’ll make sure to not rip them. This time that is,” Spencer promised with a dark tone clouding his voice.
He shed me of my shorts, lightly tapping my thigh to lift my hips to help him. Spencer sighed contently as he got himself eye level with my legs. He peppered kisses against my inner thighs, nipping and sucking in perfect tempo with my whimpers of pleasure.
“Spence, please you’re killing me.” I groaned, gripping his hair with my hands.
“Already?” Spencer tsked, his condescending tone sent waves of pleasurable humiliation up my spine. “I hardly even touched you yet. My girl is getting so spoiled. It’s a good thing I’m making you my wife. You’ll never have to worry about not getting your way, honey. I’ll always give it to you, you know that, right?”
I attempted to catch my breath as I scratched Spencer’s scalp. He groaned, the anticipation of what was to come, clearly got to him as well. You could feel his erection pressed up against your leg. And the thought of still having that kind of effect on him made me smile with pride.
“I need it, Spence.” I chanted his name, desperation clouded my mind. “I need your mouth on me, please.”
“Just because I love you so much I’ll give it to you, darling.” Spencer cooed, his voice vibrating against your sensitive skin as he spoke.
Spencer, with relative ease and muscle memory, lapped at my center with his tongue. He groaned as he tasted me, the sound simultaneously passionate and romantic. All I could do, as his mouth attached to my clit, was sit and let him have his way with me, not like there was anything either of us would have rather been doing.
His fingers dug into my fleshy hips so deep that they left colorful bruises in the shape of his hands. Spencer kissed my thighs, moaning as my pleasure-filled mewls filled our shared bedroom. He rocked his hips against the mattress, his erection hitting against my leg as he writhed in between my legs.
“Fuck,” Spencer cursed, his mouth massaging my clit as his right hand snuck closer and closer towards my soaked center, “I’ll never get tired of this.”
As much as I craved the familiar fire that Spencer set to my entire being, I found myself needing the quiet peace he provided as well. Even as his tongue danced against my sensitive folds, I still found myself noticing the faint wrinkles in Spencer’s forehead and the slightest sliver of silver in his scalp. And it wasn’t sexual desire that fueled the fire in my veins, it was yearning for the life we've yet to create.
With every kiss, every nip and bite of my skin, every rut of his hips against our perpetually squeaky mattress, I found myself closer and closer to the edge of climax.
Spencer’s finger breached me as his tongue continued to pry against my throbbing pussy. I knotted my hands into his hair, tugging with force just as I knew he loved. He groaned in response and it was frankly scientific. When I tugged his hair, it earned me a wanton moan from the man that found himself in between my legs wreaking havoc against my heart and nervous system.
“Spence…it’s…it’s too much for me,” I whined, yet I wrapped my legs around his torso, forcing his entire face flush against my skin, “Oh fuck, I love you.” I whispered, as I saw my glittering ring shimmer against Spencer’s mousy brown curls.
“I’m going to bury my face into your pussy until you’re begging to come against my face.” Spencer heeded, his patronizing tone casting a different light on the man I loved. Despite my distraction, I made a mental note to have Spencer explore that commanding side of him another day.
Because we had just that. The thought made me smile.
And then, along with Spencer’s eager tongue and continued moans of pleasure, I came undone.
Ever eager to please and see things through, Spencer kissed my inner thighs with persistence. A stray finger pumped in and out at a fervent pace as he milked the reminder of my climax.
“Just like that, sweetheart.” Spencer murmured, the vibrations from his throat tickled my skin. A sappy smile slipped onto my face as Spencer’s eyes finally landed on mine. “You coming on my face is something that I’ll never get tired of.”
“You certainly know the exact way to charm a girl, Spence.” I teased, stroking back strands of hair that fell against his forehead. His brown hair, dusted with golden, copper highlights complimented his eyes so perfectly that my heart twinged when I looked at him. “Besides being perfect in like every way possible.”
Spencer blushed and buried his face against my leg. He dragged his fingertips along my calf and up to my knee. “You’re the perfect one,” Spencer said, kissing my knee. The sweet gesture signaled that it was my turn to flush.
“That’s debatable,” I countered, locking my fingers into Spencer’s long, yet slender hands, “So you’re up at bat, buddy.” I teased, leaning over to playfully slap Spencer’s butt.
He smirked, his eyes ranking over my sleep shirt that was hastily unbuttoned in Spencer’s earnest frenzy to undress me. Though my eyes were caked with sleep and my hair had seen much better days, I had never felt more beautiful than I did under Spencer’s fiery, yet loving gaze.
“You know that doing that is more enjoyable for me than it is for you. And that’s saying something by the look on your face.” Spencer asserted, earning a playful eye roll. “And, don’t get me wrong, I love you more than life itself, but I really need to shower this off.”
“Such a dork.” I tsked, threading my fingers through Spencer’s hair. He leaned in at the touch. “How ‘bout I wash your hair as a thank you, baby.” I offered, sliding up to get off the bed.
“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, closing his eyes, “That sounds excellent.”
After a nearly 45-minute shower intermission, Spencer and I found ourselves standing at the kitchen counter debating over breakfast. Spencer, like usual, insisted on something sweet, covered in syrup and butter, with an unhealthy amount of coffee on the side.
“I vote for bagels and lox.” I countered, placing my hands on the counter for emphasis. Spencer cocked his head to the left as he reached into the refrigerator for my non-dairy milk of choice.
“I don’t know about that,” Spencer said, “I was kind of in the mood for something sweet. Like chocolate chip pancakes. Or waffles with mixed berries.”
I sighed and snuck to behind Spencer’s tall frame. I could feel his muscles tense at my touch; it was something that made my heart swell with pride. I was intensely proud of the fact that I could still make this man squirm at the gentlest, lightest, sweetest of touches.
“You’re not being fair, Y/N.” Spencer whispered, his voice caught in between a whine and an argument. “But maybe we could make a bargain.”
“What do you want to offer?” I asked, slipping my hands under Spencer’s shirt. My fingers skirted around his smooth torso, loving the feel of his soft body underneath my touch. When he spoke, his voice was shaky, confirming to me the power I held over him.
“I want cookies. Those peanut butter and marshmallow fluff ones. With chocolate chips, of course,” Spencer said, “And blueberry-lemon pound cake with icing.”
Spencer spun around so he faced me. He licked his lips, perhaps thinking of all the sweet desserts he’ll get out of me. Or, rather, maybe he was thinking of taking our bedroom-turned-shower tryst into the kitchen. Whatever it was, I loved the way he looked at me like I was sweeter than my blueberry-lemon pound cake that he begged me to make at least three times a month.
“You have quite the sweet tooth,” I stated, hooking my arms behind Spencer’s neck, “and you drive an easy bargain. I was already itching to bake today. I love it when our place smells like cookies and all that sweet stuff.” I confessed.
“Our place,” Spencer repeated, “I can’t tell you how much I love the sound of that.” He smiled. Spencer brushed a piece of my hair that fell across my eyes. His stare bore into my soul and it wasn’t fire or desire or anything like that filled me, it was that familiar, the comfortable, that sweet nothing.
“You know what I can’t wait for,” I whispered, burying my face into Spencer’s chest, “when our place is filled with our kids.”
“I hope that they look like you.” Spencer wished. “And I hope they’re just like you. Your smile. Your eyes. Your heart.” His hand rubbed my back in small circles. It felt steady and strong against my back. It was like his hand was meant to be there– like Spencer was always meant to be touching me, holding me, loving me.
“I hope they have your sweet tooth,” I smiled, “Think about all the cookies and brownies you’ll get if there’s mini-yous running around begging me to bake.”
“I don’t think I want cookies anymore.” Spencer gasped, his hands finding their place at my waist. He kissed my jawline, smiling through the affection. I couldn’t help but smile to myself as my nails scratched up and down the expanse of Spencer’s back.
“What’s got you so insatiable this morning,” I questioned, my attention span dwindling as Spencer’s careful mouth skated across my jaw and down to my neck.
“You.” Spencer said definitively. I could feel his toothy grin as he kissed me. It was like he was unable to contain himself from smiling against my skin. I felt a warmth spread from my
skin and find its way to my heart. It was quickened by Spencer’s persistent kisses, something that I decided a long time ago I’d never want to live without.
“Your choice.” I breathed. “Couch or counter.”
I broke from Spencer, eager to watch the wheels of his mind churn as he made a decision. In an attempt to both distract and excite him, I grabbed his arm that lay lazily over my shoulder. I placed his hand against my cheek and Spencer subconsciously stroked my face with his thumb. I twisted my mouth to place a kiss against his cupped palm.
“Couch.” Spencer said with certainty. “But your shirt comes off this time so I can watch your boobs as you ride me.”
Spencer giggled with glee as he led me to the couch. He sat, patting the spot on his lap for me to sit. I obliged.
He kissed my hairline, smiling into my forehead. Spencer’s hands flitted down my arms and grazed across my waist. He was the one that made me love the softness of my figure. I never felt like I had to hide the way my body naturally folded and creased. Spencer made me feel beautiful in my most raw and natural sense.
“Your skin is so soft,” Spencer said, “if there’s something I could spend the rest of my life doing it would be touching you. Your waist. Your chest. Your legs. Everything about you. It’s soft and supple and smooth. I adore you. The way you feel.”
“Spence,” I croaked, overwhelmed by the way his words stained my cheeks with flush, “God, you make me fall for you over and over.”
“The plan’s to keep you forever.” Spencer mumbled, his teeth grazed my ear as he whispered in my ear. “Is it working?”
Spencer’s fingers found their way to my waistband. He looked at me for either praise or permission, I wasn’t sure. But my hands cradling his head and my lips crashing to his was consent enough.
He was quick, slipping his fingers into my shorts elicited a complimentary proud grin from the pair of us. I twisted his hair into my hands, tilting his head up
to expose his neck. He moaned shamelessly, his thighs shaking underneath me.
“I think I’m the one making you fall to be honest, Spence.” I cooed, my fingernail tracing down Spencer’s scalp as he puffed out a shaky breath.
I lifted my hips and Spencer slipped off my shorts, leaving me completely bare. I swore I felt Spencer’s heart skip a beat as I pressed my chest against his chest, our bodies and hearts flush against each other.
I rolled my hips against Spencer’s erection, starting to laugh mercilessly as Spencer moaned wantonly. Pleasure looked good on him. And it looked even better when it was me who brought him to the brink.
“I need to be inside you.” Spencer panted in my ear. “I need you all the time, baby. I crave it. Take my cock inside of you.. Feel how hard it is. Feel each rib against your walls. That’s it. Moan for me, just like that, baby.”
I couldn’t do anything, but moan as Spencer slipped himself inside of me. He was painfully still as he allowed me to get adjusted to erection. I kissed his cheeks, a saccharine action that contrasted the filthy way he fucked me.
“Spence,” I cried out, only able to whimper his name at that point, “please move. I need it, baby.”
“I know, I know, darling,” Spencer said, kissing my face, “you take my cock so well. Now let me watch you bounce on my cock.”
Spencer’s quick movements hastened my climax. I clenched down on him, proud of myself as his face twisted in pleasure.
“Fuck, fuck.” I cried out, watching as Spencer’s erection disappeared and reappeared from inside me. Our moans filled the silence of the apartment. I felt his soft belly tighten, his tired muscles working overtime as he held me up. “Please, Spence. Please,”
“Let you come? Hmm,” Spencer hummed, his voice losing the power and control it so carefully held as he neared his own climax, “already, my love? I’ll let you come, my sweet girl. Don’t you dare look away from me. I want to see you explode as you cum on my cock.”
“No, no. Not that, Spencer,” I corrected, shaking my head to alter my previous correction, “Well, yes you are right. Fuck, it’s hard to concentrate. But no, I need you to come inside me. Please, I need you to fill me up. To give me a baby. Your babies.”
He was buried so deep inside of me, hitting all the right places as I continued to thrust my hips. Spencer attempted to keep a pace, but grew sloppier and more uncoordinated as I felt his sex twitch inside of me. He huffed in pleasure, his hot breath stinging my skin as he kissed me. The kiss was wet and needy, a testament to the tiniest thread that held our climaxes together.
“Oh God, I love feeling you like this.”
“I’m yours, love. I’m yours,” Spencer chanted as he kissed my throat. His groan spilled over my skin as he dripped from me where our two bodies met. He continued to thrust up into me, gently guiding me to come undone.
I collapsed in a heap on his sweat covered chest and felt our two hearts beat in tandem.
“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, his hand spread against my back, “I can’t wait till the day that that works for real.”
“Me too.” I confirmed. “Who knows maybe it did this time?”
I felt Spencer’s head raise up and down in agreement. He shifted underneath me, hissing with sensitivity as he slipped out from inside me. I plopped down on the couch next to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. And so sore. So you owe me another hot shower, a massage, and at least three overpriced lattes. And a bagel.”
“Deal.” Spencer said. “Anything you want.”
Spencer held my hand as we made our way down the street. We hadn’t walked downtown like this in awhile, but I loved the way it looked in the beginning of spring. It was like life itself was pumped back into the world and we were lucky enough to be there to witness it.
My iced latte, though slightly burnt, revitalized me from the morning’s extracurricular activities. The other hand held Spencer’s hand. It was warm against my palm. I hadn’t had the opportunity to hold many hands in my life, but I realized soon after meeting Spencer that I didn’t care much about all the hands that I didn’t get to hold.
“Your perfect day getting more perfect?” Spencer asked. He had a canvas bag filled with wildflowers, carnations, and asters that he insisted on buying me. “How about we venture into
that used bookstore. I’ve been searching for a first edition of Camus’s The Stranger. It’s quite rare, but considering the morning we’ve had I think I’m getting lucky today.” Spencer winked.
“Ha! You mean how to practically jumped me both times. First time you didn’t care about my morning breath and messy hair in the bed and you certainly didn’t care about being so insatiable when you begged me in the kitchen.” I teased, turning around to whisper with emphasis. Spencer smiled, still holding on to my hand.
“And I won't care about your disgusting coffee breath in the car when we find somewhere to park later.”
“Park?” I said, pretending to be aghast at his insinuation, “If I didn’t know you better, Spencer Reid, I’d say you’re propositioning me. Yet again, I might add.”
“It’s not my fault I can’t get enough of you. That blame falls squarely on your shoulders, darling.”
I stopped at the bookstore front door. Though it was our next stop, Spencer’s words also threatened to stop me in my tracks. He had this uncanny ability to completely sweep me off my feet with just a few simple words.
“Insatiable.”
***
“I wrote a poem.” I said, looking over at Spencer’s reaction. I could see where his lips folded upwards into a smile.
“What a mind.” Spencer said, moving his hand to my thigh. He squeezed. “I know you’re shy about sharing them, but can I at least ask what it’s about?”
“You.” I confessed, my face flushing at the thought. It was silly, given all the things I’ve thought about Spencer, that a poem about living to love him would bring me to the brink of embarrassment.
“As I expected.” Spencer teased. He sounded a little shy himself, like was proud of inspiring all the scrawled away lines in my poetry book. Nearly half of them would never see the world beyond my two eyes.
“Well, it’s really about the sun. And how it dances on your eyelashes when you sleep in the hammock at the cabin. And your bitter coffee, sweetened by your smile. It’s not very good, incredibly cheesy and saccharine, I’ll admit.” I glanced over at Spencer, again testing his reaction, “But if I’m being honest, it might make better wedding vows than poetry anyway.”
“You wrote your vows for me?” Spencer asked. We had stopped at a red light and he took advantage of the opportunity to lean over across the console. His right thumb rubbed the back of my hand over and over.
“And you haven’t?” I mused, welcoming Spencer’s gentle affections.
“No, well,” Spencer sputtered, shifting gears as the light turned green, “I wrote them already. Well, the first draft, at least. That was done around November 15th, 2016.”
“The night of our first kiss?” I practically squealed, squeezing Spencer’s hand this time. He blushed at my excitement at my realization. “Ha! You really are being honest when you tell me you’ve loved me since the beginning.” Spencer pulled into our apartment’s parking lot, driving down the winding side roads.
“Of course I did, I do,” Spencer said earnestly. He pulled into the spot. I looked up at our second floor apartment. We had several plants sitting in pots, hanging over the ledge and lined up against the wall on the little balcony. I loved our flowers.
“Y/N,” Spencer said, holding my hands in his. The ring sparkled in the afternoon light, “when you met me, my job nearly took everything from me. Everyone expected me to bounce back just like that. But I couldn’t bear it, not anymore. I didn’t think there was much light anymore. Much of anything good, if I'm being honest. And then I met you. To you I can admit, I’m too soft for all of it.”
“Spence,” I said, my voice breaking as I spoke, “you’re the light. You’re the sun, Spencer. You’re the one I want. The one I need, you know that, right?”
“I do,” Spencer whispered, kissing my hands as he held them to his lips, “Can you promise me something, though.” He asked.
“Anything.”
“That we’ll have days like this forever. Loving each other, even when things might be hard. Even when love may not seem to be enough. We’ll make it enough. Because we have to have each other in a world like the one we got. Because otherwise it’s pointless. That’s life– my life without you, Y/N. Completely and entirely and entirely pointless.”
“Spence.” I whispered, bringing my hand to his cheek. “I really hope that was the final draft.”
Taglist: I'm not sure who's still active, but here's the people I don't feel bad bothering
Summary: Spencer comes home from a case to find you in bed with a migraine.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Fluff, established relationship
A/N: I apologise for any grammatical errors, I'll come back to correct any possible mistakes later. :)
Spencer opens the door to your shared apartment, dropping his keys into the dish by the door and slipping off his shoes. He’s expecting you to greet him like you usually do. Which is why he’s confused to find the living room abandoned and the lights turned off. You hadn’t mentioned going out today, and it’s only five thirty. The only reason he’s home is because he’s been gone nearly a week and a half and decided to hell with his paperwork, he really needs to see you.
He sighs, loosening his tie as he locks the door and calls out to you, “Y/n, I’m home!”
“Spence?” He livens up at the sound of your voice, heart sinking a little at how weak you sound.
He jogs down the hall, gruesome images of their most recent case flashing through his mind and filling his stomach with anxiety. When he opens the door, he’s both relieved and alarmed to find you in bed, the lights off and the curtains drawn.
“Hey, baby.” He whispers, coming to kneel by your side of the bed. He hooks two fingers over the edge of the covers to gently tug them away from your face. You peel your eyes open and offer him as much of a smile as you can muster, “Are you okay?”
You hum in what’s supposed to be confirmation, sliding your hand out from underneath the blankets to squeeze his fingers. You bring them to your lips to place a sluggish kiss to his knuckles and he frowns at how clammy your hands are.
“You don’t look okay.” He reaches out to touch your cheek and you flinch. Only slightly, but he catches it anyway. He asks again, “What’s wrong?”
You sigh heavily, looking utterly defeated as you utter, “Migraine.”
“Oh, love, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand and leans forward to kiss your hairline, careful to avoid your forehead. He mumbles against the skin there, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He’d called you earlier that day to tell you he was on his way home. You’d sounded tired, but he hadn’t thought much of it until now.
“You were away. Couldn’t have done anything.” You murmur, softening under his affections, “‘Nd I didn’t want to worry you.”
“We talked about that, remember?” He sighs against your hair. He remembers that conversation vividly. It had happened after you’d fallen and sprained your ankle while he was at work and driven yourself to the hospital. When he came home to find you standing in the kitchen in an air cast he’d immediately told you to sit down. When you finally told him what happened, he had nearly blown a gasket. He wasn’t angry. More upset that you didn’t call even though he was literally a twenty minute drive away. He’d told you to call him anytime you needed anything at all, and you’d agreed.
“M’sorry.” Your eyes squeeze shut and your breath hitches. For a moment he thinks maybe you’re going to throw up and moves to grab the garbage can, but then you whimper and his heart breaks.
“Oh, baby.” He coos, watching your bottom lip tremble as tears leak from your eyes, rolling over the bridge of your nose and down to your temple. His hand rubs down your arm, then back up to squeeze your shoulder, “It’s okay.”
“No, s’not.” You sob quietly, whimpering at the pain it causes, “It hurts, Spence.”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He feels helpless, “What can I do?”
“Can you,” You sniffle, rubbing at your eyes, “Can you just lay with me? Please?”
“‘Course, lovely.” He whispers, pecking your hairline once more before standing up, “Just give me a second.”
“M’kay.” You watch him as he changes into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
He’s careful not to jostle you as he slides under the covers behind you, a tentative arm wrapping around your middle, “Is this okay?”
You sigh, snuggling further into his embrace and letting him pull you as close as physically possible. You bring his hand up to press your lips to his palm before letting it settle over your stomach.
“You’re nice n’ warm.” You mumble.
“Yeah?” He breathes, smoothing his hand down over your abdomen and back up.
“Mhm.” You hum, dissolving under his touch, “Got healing hands. Healing hugs. Always make everything better.”
Warmth suffuses through his cheeks and swells in his chest. He huffs a few breathy puffs of laughter through his nose, “I’m glad.”
A moment of silence, before he asks.
“How often have you been getting migraines lately?” He’s a little worried that you’ve had more that you’ve kept from him.
“I dunno.” He doesn’t like the way your words slur together, “Think this is the third this month.”
He sighs again and reiterates, “You should have told me.”
“I know.” You whisper, and he kisses the nape of your neck so you know he’s not mad.
Migraines aren’t uncommon for you, but three in one month sets something off in his brain that makes him wonder if something more is going on.
“Maybe you should go see your doctor.” He suggests, and you hum.
“Maybe.” Just as he’s about to press you further, you assure him, “I’ll schedule an appointment tomorrow, worry wort.”
He laughs as quietly as he can.
“I know you don't want me to,” He props himself up on his elbow and leans down to kiss the skin just behind your ear, “But I’m going to worry about you. It’s kind of my job.”
You let out a pathetic excuse for a snort but he smiles wide at his victory nonetheless, “S’not your job.”
“Sure is.” He hums, and his words are squished between his lips and your neck, “S’my job to make sure you’re happy,” He pecks your shoulder, “‘And healthy.” he kisses your neck again, “And, most importantly.” The curve of your jaw, “Safe.”
You half hum, half sigh, sliding a lethargic hand down to cover his, where it rests over your stomach, “I love you.”
Your voice is dulcet, almost listless, and it makes him feel a little bad for the way his heart swells — aches — at the admission.
“I love you too.” He murmurs. There's a moment of silence before he says, carefully, “You can talk to me, you know.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you to keep things from me just to spare me the worry, okay?” He keeps his voice soft, sweet.
“Okay.” You thread your fingers through his and squeeze his hand.
“Okay.” He echos, tracing a loving line over your stomach with his thumb, “Rest.”
Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of April AND May, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including the trope of Family/Found Family using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!
Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading!
Generic Prompts
Secret family/spouse/child.
Character A meets B’s family.
Characters A and B throw a baby shower.
AU where two team members are siblings.
The Team throws a MHM (missed holiday meal).
Characters A and B decide to adopt a pet together.
Character A takes an interest in B’s family tradition.
Sometimes a family includes more than two parents.
Characters A and B decide to foster a child/teenager.
Character A comes to terms with B not being the marrying type.
Character A confesses to B that they don’t want children. B is relieved.
Character A reassures B that it’s okay to let go of abusive biological relatives.
Take your family to work day at the BAU brings together a rather eclectic group of individuals (of varying ages, backgrounds, and species).
Character A is surprised by how different B seems now that they left the BAU and have a functioning family life.
Character A reassures B about their fears of being a bad parent following a troubled childhood.
Character A is worried that their child will be dealbreaker for dating. They are surprised when B’s date invitation includes their child.
Character dates a family member of one of their teammates. Awkwardness ensues.
Character(s) help(s) Child through something (break up, bad grades, loss of a friend).
Character A accidentally refers to B as "Mom/Dad"
Whatever else you can think of!
NSFW & Character-Specific Prompts below.
Character-Specific Prompts
Spencer saying goodbye to his mother gets harder every time.
Penelope, Derek, Hotch, and/or Tara bond over the loss of a parent.
Rossi, Tara, and/or Hotch reflect on the high rate of divorce in the BAU.
Hotch & Jessica co-parent Jack.
Derek, Hotch, Tara, and/or Penelope's sibling is very suspicious about Character’s partner.
Kate helps Character through the adoption process.
Alex & Spencer bond over the loss of a child/mother, and fill in those blanks for each other.
Rossi & JJ open up about the loss of her pregnancy and the death of his son.
NSFW Prompts
Pregnancy kink
Mommy/Daddy kink
Parents finally get some much needed alone time.
Characters A and B decide to make a baby (for real).
Rules
The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character.
Tag me in the fic, or send it to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it just for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.
The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check. Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.
Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.
Have fun!
The Masterlist of fics will be posted around June 1. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!
Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️
would you please write a spencer x reader where she's at the conference (? not sure if thats what it technically was) where spencer gave his speech and everyone was just like 😶😶 but not her
and immediately after the speeches when everyone is talking she comes up to talk to him and shes being so kind he doesn't even notice that shes the only one paying him attention, just immediate infatuation 🥺
"I liked your joke, Dr. Reid." You approach the man from behind, but you neglect to tap him on the shoulder. You'd seen him apply hand sanitizer on his way out of the lecture hall without ever having touched anything inside, so you have a feeling he's more conscious about germs than most.
He turns from the proximity of your voice, and so does Agent Rossi. You're ecstatic to be in both of their presences, but Dr. Reid is an extra something special.
Agent Rossi takes one look at the flustered expression on Dr. Reid's face as he tries processing your remark, and turns around with a stifled grin.
"Uh, thank you," Dr. Reid stammers, blinking fast, "It didn't seem to be much of a crowd pleaser."
"Nothing pleases this crowd," You lament, "We're all overworked and sleep-deprived. But from an avid patron of the campus library, your joke made me laugh. And- uh, I'm Y/N. By the way."
He nods, lips pulling back into a smile that's more of a straight line than anything. You like it, it's cute.
"This campus's library is incredible," You seem to have unlocked Dr. Reid's hidden passion, as he springs into conversation without hesitation, "Unfortunately I wasn't able to explore before we got here because we got stuck in traffic, but we walked past it and I could see that the philosophy section goes all the way through to the other side."
His eyes are wide as he speaks, hands aiding his speech as he rambles.
"It's actually," You chuckle breathlessly, a tad sheepish to admit it, "It's one of the reasons I came here instead of my other potential university. I couldn't pass up the library."
"A girl after his own heart," Agent Rossi sets a hand on Dr. Reid's shoulder, finally tuning back into your conversation with a kind smile towards you. Dr. Reid turns, effectively broken from his passion-fueled library reverie.
"Unfortunately, we've just gotten called away," Agent Rossi informs you, "But Spencer, I think you should give her your business card in case she has any questions about our lecture."
Dr. Reid stands frozen, blinking once, twice, thrice, then-
"Oh! My card," He fumbles with the chest pocket of his sweater, then when he comes up empty (save for a speck of lint), he switches to his messenger bag.
"Uh," He jams his hand into a sleeve sewn to the lining of the bag, then thrusts a slightly rumpled business card towards you, "Here, um, yeah, if you have any questions. Or- or if you'd like to talk about philosophy? I've, um... I've got plenty more jokes if you ever have time to listen."
"I'll make time," You promise him, and you don't miss the way his eyes go wide and his cheeks glow pink, "Thank you, Dr. Reid."
"Uh, Spencer!" He decides, calling after you as you part ways, feet shuffling over tile as he tries keeping pace with Agent Rossi, "You can call me Spencer!"
Spencer had always been someone who appreciated art in any form. That was why he couldn’t take his eyes off you when you stepped out of the bathroom with only a towel covering your figure.
“You look gorgeous,” he mumbled as you approached the bed. “It’s almost unreal.”
You smirked at him when you suddenly let the towel drop to the floor, revealing yourself to him.
“How about now?” You snickered.
“Even better.”
The truth was that anytime he laid eyes on your bare form, he couldn’t help but think of artists carving statues into marble in an attempt to do a goddess justice. Someone like you must have inspired them. When you crawled into his lap to straddle his hips, he was quick to drop the book from his hands.
Spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact that the greatest masterpiece on earth was there with him, waiting to be admired fully. There was nothing that could ever distract him from his mission to adore you.
“You look like a goddess,” he cooed while placing his hands on your waist. “Please let me worship you.”
Leaning down to kiss him, you mumbled against his lips, “I’m all yours, Spencer.”
With one swift motion he turned you around so you were laying on your back with him hovering over you. He seemed almost greedy when he kissed you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth after just a few moments. You welcomed his enthusiasm, even more so when he left your lips to kiss down your neck instead, leaving goosebumps everywhere his hot breath tickled your skin.
When he got to the curves of your chest you felt him smiling against your body. He kissed and nipped your sensitive skin, content when you began to sing him his praise in the forms of sighs and moans falling from your lips. His hand was caressing one of your breasts while he licked over the hardened peak of the other one.
He took his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two of them until he was sure that he gave each of them enough attention. He started kissing down your stomach when he decided that it hadn’t been enough yet, pawing at your breasts once more before kissing each nipple several times.
“You’re absolutely perfect,” he breathed as he nestled his face against your chest.
His adorable display of affection made you giggle, “I know you love them.”
“I love all of you,” he corrected you.
“Show me.”
He didn’t hesitate any longer to kiss further down your body, exploring every inch of you with his hands and lips. When he got to your hips, he gently bit into the supple flesh, making you squirm underneath him. One of his hands reached around you to grab a handful of the curve of your backside, burying his fingernails into your skin until you were sure he’d leave marks.
The thought of finding the evidence of his worship painted all over your body in the morning let your heart skip a beat. You loved being reminded of his desire for everything you had to offer. When he kissed the soft patch of skin just below your belly, your legs spread open for him to lie down between them.
He took a moment to take in the sight of your exposed core, purring, “Marvelous.”
Instead of kissing you where you were already aching for his touch, he began nipping on the insides of your ample thighs instead. He took his time kissing and licking along them until he reached your knee, only to repeat the same thing on the other leg. When he was done with that, he sat up between your thighs to find your eyes.
Your cheeks were glowing and your eyes half-lidded when he looked at you. The way he showed you his adoration for you aroused you more than you could put into words. It was obvious how excited he was by the large bulge in his pajama pants. You would have been happy to help him get some relief but you knew that bringing you pleasure was everything he needed right then.
He let his sight roam over your body, his eyes filled with wonder when they lingered on your center. Gentle fingertips made contact with your silken folds, spreading your sweet essence from your entrance along your crevice. However, his touch was too light to grant you some much needed friction.
“Don’t tease me, Spencer,” You whined.
As if he was snapping out from a trance, he quickly apologized before laying down between your legs, “Sorry, you’re just so beautiful.”
Your whole body began trembling when he began collecting your honeyed wetness on his tongue. He was mesmerized by your heady scent and couldn’t help but begin to rock his hips against the mattress while bringing you pleasure with his mouth. With your hands in his hair you brought him even closer to you.
After exploring your core with his tongue as if to imprint your uniqueness into his brain forever, he focussed on the small bundle of nerves. By the sounds of your whimpers and moans he knew that you were about to enter a state of pure bliss. He was eager to worship you the way you deserved, relentlessly moving his tongue and lips over you to let you fall over the edge.
Both of you felt light-headed but Spencer got completely lost in the pleasure. All the tension suddenly left his body when he found release in his pants without ever being touched. Only moments later did you find your high as well, tremors wrecking through your body as you savored the euphoria.
You practically had to push Spencer’s face away from your core as he was still buried between your legs, a whine escaping his lips when you denied him access to your ambrosial taste. Your open arms offered consolation and he was happy to take it.
As your hand snuck down his body to make him feel good too, you found him already soft and his pants stained.
“Naughty boy,” you teased him and he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
“I can’t help it when you taste so divine,” he whispered.
If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!
A/N: this is a really old fic, literally the very first thing I ever wrote, so don't judge it. it was originally posted back on the 21 of February 2022. at first, I didn't really want to repost it since it was very clearly the first thing I ever wrote, but since it had become a lot of people's comfort fic, I decided to re-edit it and post it again.
Warnings: Spencer Reid x reader, hurt/comfort, meltdown, crying, going nonverbal, sign language
Word count: 1217
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
You just needed to get home. That’s all you needed to focus on. One thing at a time. One step at a time. Just keep moving, don’t want to have your body freeze up in the middle of the city, that would be extremely impractical.
Focusing your vision on the ground, soon you were there at the door to your and Spencer’s place. One step at a time, slowly but surely, up the familiar stairs you trekked. The noise from the streets below had now been muffled and almost completely silenced, making your heartbeat that much more deafening in your ears. You were so close, almost home, at your safe place, and that finally made your body start to understand and let go.
It took some time to unlock the dark wooden door because of just how badly your hands were shaking at this point. And as soon as it creaked open and you stumbled over the threshold, it took but a second before you’d leaned all your weight against the door, closing your eyes and focusing on your breath.
In, out, in, out, in-
“Hey Y/n, I didn’t hear you come home.”
Cracking your eyes open just a peep, you spotted your boyfriend walking into the living room. His warm smile quickly melted away and morphed into a worried frown as he saw the state you were in.
And with that, you let go of the last ounce of control and burst into tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.”
Rushing towards you, he reached out but didn’t quit touching you.
“What happened?”
Your eyes were unfocused and darting around the room. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, not even a squeak. Flexing both hands a moment, testing that that ability hadn’t slipped out of your fingers yet, you lifted your hands and started to sign ‘speaking’ and ‘hard’ to the alarmed man in front of you.
“Okay, that’s okay, baby. I’m right here,” he comforted, lowering his head slightly to be at your level, “how about we get your coat off and then go sit on the couch?”
Nodding, but not moving to remove your outerwear, Spencer slowly reached out and pealed it off for you, then kneeled down to give you a hand with your boots. Reaching out, settling yourself on his shoulder, he looked up at you and your eyes took in every part of his face. Every little twitch of an eyebrow or the worry lines that just didn’t wanna disappear.
As he rose up again, you were still holding on to his body for support. “Y/n, can I touch you?” he asked, hands out ready, “I know that’s not always what you want when this happens, but can I?”
Sniffling, you nodded, and he wrapped his long arms around you, aiding you towards the brown leather couch in the middle of the room.
Sitting down, still clutching onto Spencer’s shirt like a kitten, he asked, “are your hands cold too?” and shakily you reached one out for him to inspect. With a sharp intake of air, he said, “oof, wow. If you wanted blue nails so bad you could have just told me, I’d have helped you paint them,” he tried to joke, “do you want me to go get some gloves? Try and keep them warm?”
Not wanting him to leave, you shook your head.
Feeling him suddenly move a bit under you only caused you to clutch on even tighter. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry, just grabbing a blanket,” he said as you felt the aforementioned woollen blanket wrap around your shoulders.
Looking deeply into your eyes, he tried, “is there anything I can do? Anything you need? Anything that could help you right now?”
As per usual in a situation such as this, your mind had gone blank, not knowing what the answer could be. Taking a moment, trying, and failing to come up with the answer, you ended up simply shaking your head and shrugging your blanket-covered shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about what happened? Maybe write it down?”
To that, you definitely knew the answer and quickly shook your head. Your breathing, which has at this point become a little more under control, started to pick up again.
“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it right now.”
Curling up and settling back against his chest, you unconsciously tried to copy his breathing, just concentrating on the rising of his lungs and the soothing circles his hand was making on your back.
You knew that even though this was not something he experienced on a pretty regular basis, he still knew exactly what it was like. He had told you about some of the few times he had experienced it. Like when he went to see his father for the first time in his adult life.
After a while, when the struggle to breathe started to fade, your eyes began to wander around the room, eventually settling on the deck of cards on the table. “Oh, yeah,” his eyes followed yours, “I was fiddling with a new magic trick this morning.”
That comment caused a smile to creep up on your lips. Glancing up at him, he asked, “do you want me to show you one?” and you nodded gently, “I don’t know if that one is ready for an audience yet, but I think I have a few other ones up my sleeve,” he smiled, reaching over to pick up the deck.
“Okay,” he quickly shuffled the cards, then spread them out for you to pick one. After doing so, you then put it back into the pile so he could shuffle it again. After making the last shuffle a little extra extravagant, he raised the deck up to your face, “I need you to blow on this card, please,” and you did so with a light giggle.
“And this is your card,” he announced with a big flourish presenting to you the 2 of spades. Shaking your head, his smile fell and he asked completely seriously, “that’s not your card?”
“Wait, hold on, okay,” he ran his thumb over the corner of the cards one more time, then proceeded to tap them twice and ended with a big magical gesture with his fingers, “this is your card,” with more confidence, he showed you the 7 of diamonds. Again, you shook your head, smile only growing with each second.
“You serious? That’s not your card?” he pouted dramatically, inspecting the cards a bit in faked annoyance, “hold on… Oh,” he then glanced up at your face, no, he was staring at your ear. Reaching up behind it, he asked, “that your card?”
You heard a whooshing sound and turned to look as in his hand, still right by your face, and there it was. The queen of hearts.
Giggling, you nodded hard. Even though he had let you in on the secrets of some of his sleight-of-hand skills, it still never failed to impress you.
‘I love you,’ you signed.
“I love you too, so, so much,” he leaned forward and placed his forehead against yours. “Hey, how about I go make some hot chocolate and then read a bit to you? It can be anything you like.”
Control What You Can, Confront What You Can't❤️ @lovejules888 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
ellievsbear
titsay
2087
annaxmalina
andulkaphoto
romaincrisis
discoholicmusic
