Spencer couldn't remember ever being so overstimulated in his entire life.
Of course, he'd agreed to it, so he was willing to let go for once and see where it led.
Just as Reid couldn't remember (for the first time) experiencing such a level of stimulation, you couldn't remember ever feeling so alive.
You cupped Spencer's face in your hands, which would have been touching yours too if it weren't for the handcuffs around his wrists, immobilizing him against the headboard.
You both knew that if Hotch found out you were using work equipment for extracurricular activities like this, he'd give you a serious telling-off, but since that wasn't going to happen, you were both perfectly calm about it.
"Sorry, honey, now it's my turn" you whispered, hearing the metal clinking against the wooden headboard. "I'm going to treat you very well, because that's what it's all about, right?" "That's why you agreed to this, because you want me to take care of you, isn't that right?" you questioned, your fingers toying with the button of his suit trousers.
You watched as his brown eyes rested on you, his breath catching in his throat at your actions.
"That's right," he replied, letting out a soft sigh as you leaned down to place a kiss on his navel. "Y/N, please, don't torture me anymore," he gasped as you traced a trail of kisses from his navel to his lips, stealing his breath. "Please," he repeated against your lips, "I need you," he said, making you squeeze your thighs together.
"I know, Doctor, and I'm going to give it to you," you said. "You've been such a good boy to me, Spence, that you deserve a reward," you murmured. "I'm going to let go of one of your hands, but only one, okay?"
"Okay," he whispered, as you bent down to unlock the shackle on his right hand.
At that moment, he quickly stood up and positioned you beneath him where he had been standing.
He placed both knees beside yours, so you couldn't move, and without a word, unlocked the second shackle, freeing both his hands.
He held the handcuffs with his index finger and showed them to you with a playful smile playing on his lips.
You had expected many things that year, but seeing Spencer holding handcuffs and looking at you like THAT, as if he were an upgraded version of Christian Grey, was definitely NOT on your list.
"Sorry, my love, now it's my turn" he said, mimicking your earlier line, as he leaned in to kiss you.
"How did you do that?" “You weren’t supposed to be able to let go so easily,” you said between kisses. You rolled your eyes, a lopsided smile playing on your lips. “Spence, have you watched the Houdini documentary again?”
“Of course I have, you can never watch it enough times,” he replied with a grin. “Thanks to it, I’ve managed to perfect my magic tricks to the point where they’re almost perfect,” he explained. “Only there’s one I haven’t quite mastered.”
“Oh, really?” you questioned. “And… what is it?” you asked curiously, mainly because you doubted anything could resist him.
“It’s the clothes-making trick,” he said, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. “The times I’ve tried it, it hasn’t worked, but I hope I can do it today.”
“Spencer!” you squealed, laughing as you realized he’d just made a double entendre, and it had worked. “Where did you get that idea? Or have you been spending a lot of time with Morgan?”
"I got it from here" he said, pointing to his temple. "As for Morgan, I'm probably spending a lot of time with him, yes," he replied. "We met through him, remember?"
"Of course I remember" you smiled. "How could I forget the best day of my life?" you whispered, before kissing him again.
“Spence-“ I gasped as he pried my legs apart. I pushed my coworker's shoulder lightly and blushed a bright red.
The only thing I could think of was that I had worked all day, and it was really hot outside.
“Hey- are you- sure?” My breath hitched as I felt his tongue start over my already soaked panties. My thighs twitched, and I was still processing. He took me into a room on a floor we didn’t work on, and we were talking and now… oh my god.
“Oh my- mmph.” His hand reached up and clamped over my mouth. Chills rushed down my spine straight to my core.
He was gently easing me backwards onto the desk, and I moved my legs up instinctively.
His tongue found my folds through my underwear, and he tugged on the little pair of panties until they were almost inside of me. Biting into my skin just enough to feel good.
I let out a moan against his hand.
“You just, you smelled so good. I’m sorry.” He whispered against my cunt.
He was lapping at me now, underwear still disappearing inside of me. I let out a rough moan, arching beneath him.
“Spencer, please!” I yelped, arching beneath him. He shushed me.
“Shhh- I know, baby girl. Relax.” He murmured. I did as he said, and he yanked down my panties, stuffing them into his pocket.
“You don’t need those anymore.” He murmured. His tongue lapped eagerly at me now, and my thighs quivered.
“I’m so close.” The words came out broken, almost pained.
“I just started.” He breathed out, looking over me hungrily.
His tongue was on me again, fully now, licking easily between my folds and finding my clit.
My mouth fell open, and my head fell back, but no words came out. My legs locked around his head, and I just trembled. It was all I could do.
“That dress is gorgeous.” He rasped into me. He was pulling gently at my plush thighs, kneading into them with his thumbs.
I groaned, arching my back against the cool tabletop.
“I know, I know, just a minute more.” His tongue swirled around my clit, and I arched hard. I reached down and tugged his curls between my fingers. I gasped.
warnings: smut ofc!, loss of virginity, whiny and sub Spence.
Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
A/N: This is very short! This was a forgotten piece of work I had and I thought I might as well just finish it. Also! first post of February!! <3.
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Written: December 21st-February 5th, 2025
Published: February 5th, 2025
Summary: Spencer's never had the touch of a woman before.
wc: 849
“Y/n, I don’t think we should be doing this- we could get caught at any-“ I cut Spencer off with a loud sigh as I dragged him to an unused office. “Maybe if you’re quiet enough they won’t hear!”
Spencer was nervous, terrified at the act he was about to do. Somehow the topic got on virginity and Spence admitted that he was still a virgin. And I offered to take his virginity, he accepted my offer immediately but now he’s hesitant. Not because he isn’t attracted to me, but because he’s nervous.
Spencer is very insecure about his body, but to me..he’s perfect. Even though I’ve never seen (yet) Spencer’s dick, I’ve heard lots of stories about how the tall nerdy white boys always have the biggest dicks..let’s hope it’s true.
We finally made it to the office and I turned around and locked the door. I turned back around and pulled Spencer into a deep passionate kiss. He was feeling and touching all over my body as I wrapped my hands around his neck. His lips were so soft and plump.
He squeezed my ass mid kiss and I felt myself get wet. My stomach was filled with butterflies and my panties were damp. He began to walk us over to the couch, I slid his shirt off of him and was met with his bare chest.
I looked him in his eyes before licking a stripe up his stomach as he let out a loud moan. I smirked at his reaction as I then stood back up and started placing kisses on his pecs. “Shit!” He moaned as his head flew back.
I placed one last kiss on his stomach before pushing him on the soft rug beneath us. I was still in my flared pants as I sat down on top of his growing boner. Spencer and I both still had our pants on so the friction felt even better as I kept grinding on him. “Please!” He begged as I chuckled. “Please what, Spencer?” I teasingly asked.
“I w-wanna feel you.” He choked out. I hummed before standing up and stripping out of my clothes. He looked up with his big chocolate brown eyes, his eyes had this desperate pleading look in them. It just turned me on even more.
I then straddled over his waist and my hands flew to his belt and unbuckled it. His cock was hard and poking through his boxers, I softly touched it as whined. I then pulled him out of his boxers and he was..huge.
His cock was really long, it had a slight curve to it, veins, and a pink mushroom tip that had precum leaking. I moaned at the sight, my mouth was watering at this point. I got off of his lap and got on my knees, arching my back, and started slowly stroking him. ‘Oh my!” He moaned as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “You like that?” I asked lowly as I licked my lips.
“Yes!” He shouted as I shushed him. “We can’t let anyone know that you’re back here about to cum.” I teased.
Spencer has never even had a woman touch him- the pleasure was too much for him. It was the best thing he’s ever felt, he’s definitely gonna want more after this.
I arched my back deeper as I took him in my mouth. Spencer wanted to cum right in that moment. The way my warm wet mouth felt on his dick, taking him in, arching my back with no pantie,s no bra, just bare in front of him. He felt like he was in heaven.
I started bobbing my head up and down on his long cock. His dick was touching the back of my throat and it made me so wet. He placed his hand on the back of my head, guiding me slowly. “You suck it so good-fuck!” He groaned to himself.
Spencer’s head was thrown back as I hollowed my cheeks on his cock. I felt his cock twitch and saw his legs tense up. It was turning me on, my body was heating up and I was wet. I could literally feel my juices dripping down my inner thighs.
I pulled his dick out my mouth and rubbed his thighs softly. “You feel good so far, Spencer?” I said with a soft smile. “Please-keep going.” He said breathlessly. I took that as a yes. His balls looked so heavy and filled with cum…it’s only right that I take that stress away from him.
I started sucking on his balls while I squeezed his cock with my hand. “Nngh!” He grunted as I sucked on his balls a little more rougher this time. I pumped his cock a few more times and he let out a loud whine as cum shot out of his cock onto my hand and face.
I was in shock as Spencer sat there heavily breathing, trying to catch his breath. His cock had softened but was still somewhat hard with cum leaking down his shaft.
‘Good morning, my love,’ Spencer whispered softly in my ear, the blinding light of the morning sun filtering through the curtains, stinging my eyelids.
‘Oh, fuck me,’ I muttered, burying my face in the covers, desperate to shield myself from the early light. I heard a small chuckle, followed by the comforting weight of his body melting into mine as he cradled me tighter. His warmth was soothing, pulling me back toward sleep.
Spencer wasn’t one to use profanity, but when it slipped from my lips, he found it... endearing. Arousing even, reminding him of the sound of your voice when he had you squirming beneath him.
Being the smart-ass that he is, I could practically hear the smile in his voice as he replied, ‘I’m not opposed to that idea.’
The sensation of his body against mine sparked a heat in my belly, my tired limbs slowly burning for more of him. The scent of him, the weight of his embrace growing heavier on my torso, ignited something deep inside me. I slowly turned in his arms, letting my lips trail down his jaw. A small smirk tugged at my lips as I returned his embrace, feeling his semi-hard cock press against my thighs.
‘I can feel that, Spence... Is someone having a hard time?’ I giggled at my own terrible pun, but Spencer just smiled down at me, his eyes sparkling with a hint of feigned annoyance. ‘You’re terrible,’ he muttered, but there was a warmth in his tone, one that made it clear he didn’t mind in the slightest.
He lowered his head until our foreheads were touching, eyes locked in a deep, unspoken connection. Spencer studied me with a quiet intensity, noting the way my pupils dilated, the smile that tugged at my lips, and the flush spreading across my chest. His gaze was knowing, almost possessive, as if he was already reading the unspoken signs of what I needed. Without a word, he shifted slightly, pressing his body closer to mine, and I could feel the evidence of his desire against my thigh. The tension between us was palpable, and I could tell he was in control, yet it was a control that was gentle, almost tender, as though he was waiting for me to signal when I was ready.
His eyes never left mine, and the intensity in them deepened as the air between us grew thicker with unspoken desire. The way his gaze lingered on my lips, the heat in his touch, and the way his breath hitched in anticipation... it all made my heart race. For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension was almost too much to bear, the unspoken need between us growing with each passing second.
Then, without warning, Spencer’s hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw with a tenderness that only made the desire between us burn brighter. His forehead stayed pressed against mine, the connection palpable. His eyes flickered down to my lips again, and I felt the shift, the moment he could no longer hold back. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was fierce, hungry, and full of urgency. There was no hesitation now; only the raw need to feel, to taste, to claim each other in a way that words couldn’t possibly describe. His kiss was deep and demanding, but it still held the gentleness of someone who cared, who wanted, no needed this connection more than anything.
Summary: Spencer and the reader have been pretending to be rivals for quite some time, jokingly taking shots at each other and trying to win games against each other to prove higher intelligence. One day, Spencer suggests they play something else and little do they know that game turns into a whole lot more play.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Warning/Includes: playful hatred, friendly-fire rivalry, kissing, protected sex (hardly written), tension to smut to fluff.
A/N: lightly based on The Name of The Game, by ABBA
“You know what I think, Dr.Reid, is that secretly, deep, deep down in the skinny soul that fills your skinny body... you like me.” You teased, setting down your cards. That was it, the game was over, you had won.
Spencer Reid shook his head, “I would say we’re acquainted and not friends. Coworkers at worst.” He set down his cards to show you he had nearly nothing. Chances, chances, chances. “Derek, was she cheating? I think she was cheating.”
Derek Morgan was entirely asleep in his seat. It was just after the BAU had been sent on another big case and everyone had been working on it from the BAU until you all could get the jet. It was nearing nine o’clock but nearly everyone on the jet was sleeping from a day of overworking at home. All but you and ye of little faith. Hotch confirmed that the team didn’t start interacting with the police until tomorrow so that everyone could crash at the hotel before it all actually began, so it was a matter of time before everyone woke again.
Spencer was good at his games, knew probability well and could probably win against the averagely smart man, but not you. He could never beat you at cards and that nearly killed him, so every time you flew back to or from Quantico, he asked to play, hoping he would somehow win. This had been going on for months along with the little jokes and friendly fire you had with him. As much as you pretended to hate each other, you were both pretty transparent to the rest of the team.
“Sorry that I’m not your favourite member of the team,” you smiled at him playfully and tossed him the reorganized deck. He caught it with a small smile. “If you want, we can play something else and I’ll let you win.”
He shook his head and cracked his knuckles. “Battle of wits. Random trivia. I want to see you flail and drown.”
“Violent, Doc.” You raised your eyebrows at him. He had confidence in something just as risky- his mistake. There wasn't time, though. “We land in ten, though, so on the way home from this case if you’re up for it.”
“Are you too tired or are you afraid to lose?”
“Neither,” you sighed, cracking your knuckles. “Fine, you’re on.”
----
At the hotel, everyone was groaning and grumbling and ready to crash for the night. You guessed working from the BAU for two and a half days before getting to the case was too much for them, but with your cup of sugar with a little coffee, you were wide awake.
The second Hotch dolled out the keys, you grabbed Emily who was moving like a zombie and pulled her to her designated room. You were all lucky enough to get your own rooms on this case so once you dropped her and her bags off there then found your own room next to hers.
The first thing you did was pull yourself out of your office clothes and into your pyjamas. You slipped on long, flowy, pale blue, loose-fabric pants that felt cool against your skin as well as sat on your hips paired with a simple white tank top. You kept your bra on just to keep a little decency and let your hair fall down around your shoulders, brushing it through a little.
You were prepared to win against Spencer. That was it, flat out. You would win. You both were the geniuses of the team and he had been waiting for a moment to prove he was better than you in some way, but that would be his downfall. He wanted to win so desperately and you wouldn't let that happen.
It had been months of this snarky attitude from him that you know was only in play. Maybe this would make him give up when you won. You slipped out of your room and up to the door of the room you saw Spencer walk into. The knock you gave was quiet enough not to disturb anyone but him and it only took him a moment to answer, his lips pursed straight.
"Come in," he said, gesturing. You saw his eyes flicker over what you were wearing as he had probably never seen you so entirely casual. You narrowed your eyebrows at him as you slipped into his room.
The room was identical to yours but smelled a little different. "I love what you've done with the place, wow, Dr.Reid..." You joked, sitting on the edge of his bed. He shut the door slowly, pressing his back to it with that crooked smile of his. "So are you ready to lose?"
"I-I don't believe I am," he said, hands behind his back. Something was off... he didn't stutter when he was in that teasing pretend hatred. Never- it was always as if that was his comfort in trying to beat you. "Let's begin."
You raised your eyebrows and slid onto the floor at the edge of the bed and pat the spot in front of you against the wall. He didn't protest, in fact, he sat right down with his laptop.
"What's this?" You asked.
"This is Garcia who searched up trivia questions and will be asking us. To answer, we hit this button in front of us. If the answer is wrong, it goes to the other person. Got it?" Spencer set the computer up.
"Yeah..." you nodded, setting your eyes on Garcia. "Hey, Penelope!"
"If it isn't my favourite (Y/N)!" She exclaimed, blowing kisses through the screen. "I must admit I'm a little scared. Spencer here called me and he sounds like he's about to... murder you."
You looked up at Spencer through your eyelashes and back down at Penelope. "He's the one about to be murdered, Pen. Both of you, brace yourselves. I'm ready."
"And now I am even more scared, thank you for that Elton John and Madonna..." Penelope clicked through her computer.
Spencer looked at you now with confusion. For a genius, he wasn't very well-educated in celebrity culture. "This is why you're going down, Reid." You laughed.
His voice raised in pitch, "Because my-my-my name isn't Elton John and I don't understand the reference?" Oh, he was so going to lose.
Spencer set the button out. Convenient that he had them... maybe he'd been planning for this longer than you'd thought. Penelope on the screen sat to the right of you both and she had all her questions lined up. She did a little drumroll, then began.
"Name the number that is three more than one-fifth of one-tenth of one-half of 5,000, go!"
It took you a second but you and Spencer hit the button at the same time. "53!" You said in unison.
"Fuck!" You laughed, rubbing your eye.
There was a slight clicking noise on Garcia's end and you watched her face go from confusion to wide-eyed wonder. "You both are too smart for your own good-"
"Ne-Next question, please," Spencer said, his face in his hands. If the whole thing was like this, how would either one of you win?
More questions passed, some were ties, some were won by Spencer and some by you, but at the end of Penelope's list.. you had tied and it was 11:30pm. With each question, you felt the tension in the room worsen. Each loss, each win, your stomach had butterflies. Who was going to win this? You and Spencer, after an hour and a half of losses, wins, and ties and Garcia getting more scared by the second, you tied.
Then of course there were the tiebreakers which you both tied on. After five tiebreakers, Garcia was done. "Congrats, you're both smart as hell! I am tired, so I'll let you little birdies wrestle it out, just don't blame the injuries on me."
"Garcia, no-" Spencer protested, needing to win.
Penelope waved goodbye and Spencer reached for the laptop, but he couldn't stop her. "Garcia, out!" She ended the video call, leaving Spencer and you alone.
Well, nobody won now. Nobody lost either. Spencer, you could see he was done, just done. All the talk of winning and he really got so nervous he stuttered around you. You grinned, tilting your head against his bed and just laughing. Nobody won!
For some reason, the tension in the room was still thick. You noticed it when you finally stopped laughing at the circumstances when you looked at Spencer with his head in his hands. He wasn't really upset, he was just confused as to how it came to a draw with you like this.
"Was it my tits that threw off your game, Reid?" You teased, standing up and going to the coffee-maker in the corner of his room. "Is it okay if I have the Earl Grey here?"
"Yeah, that's- that's fine," he nodded, swallowing hard. His pretty face was still contorted into confusion. You hopped up on the counter and made the tea with the teabags complimentary to the hotel. "Did you cheat?"
"Did I what?" You laughed again, leaning over so your forearms resting on your thighs. "You think I have tricks up my sleeve, Reid, I'm not even wearing sleeves."
"My IQ tells me you should have lost."
"You and your noble IQ," you blew on your tea. "Want some tea?"
He rubbed his temples and stood up, walking over tiredly. You hadn't noticed what he was wearing at all, you'd been too focused on the trivia. He was wearing flannel pyjama pants and a large sweater. It was the most casual you'd seen him before. "Orange Pekoe, please."
"Got it," you turned and made him a cup of tea with the machine. You'd never really hung out with Spencer before away from work. On the jets, you were always still surrounded by coworkers. Even though you were alone with him earlier, Garcia's presence was there. Now it was just you, Spencer, and the tension that wouldn't seem to lift. It was unexplainable- how it was still there. What was it really and why wouldn't it thin out? "Here you go."
Through handing him the tea, your hands touched and you pretended to be disgusted by it for a laugh, but he just exhaled sharply. Spencer sat on the edge of his bed facing you on the counter, sweater sleeves over his hands that held the mug, curls falling over his face.
Why was he always looking like he was solving math questions in his head? When he drank his tea, you drank yours. Why were you even still in his room at all... he hardly liked you, he just wanted to win and now that neither of you had, you were still here? It was a question for both you and him, but would this question come to a draw as well?
"I don't think I've mentioned how much I like your hair, Reid." You said out of the blue. "I think I've been too focused on kicking your ass in every way possible to properly compliment you."
"You've never kicked my ass physically, so you can't say in every possible way if you-"
"I was trying to compliment you but if you want me to actually get up and kick you in the ass, I will." You threatened playfully. Spencer grinned down at his tea. "I just think you have nice hair and I am very jealous it's not mine." You opened and shut your fingers like a pair of scissors.
Spencer straightened himself out and shook his hair out of his face. "I- thank you?"
You nodded, "You're welcome."
No more words were said until you both finished your tea. Why were you still here? Why didn't he ask you to go and why did he keep looking at you with thoughts in his eyes and why the hell did the tension keep building? What was it leading to?
Spencer eventually stood up and placed his mug in the sink next to yours, standing next to where you sat on the counter. You looked at him through a strand of your hair that had fallen in your face and you moved it to better understand. He mirrored you for a second, pushing his hair behind his ear as well before asking that one, fatal question. The one question he gave, knowing that if you lost, he had won and if you answered correctly, you had won. It was the unofficial, official ending to the game, but at a risk.
"In the 1830s, what scientifically gifted woman led to the coining of the term 'scientist,' because 'man of science' didn’t apply?" He asked, his eyes narrowing in. This was it... damn it, your brain was scrambled... as to why? Unexplainable.
"Mary..." you said, grasping at something you knew but it was clouded by something else you couldn't recognize. As if a clock was ticking, your heart was pounding. "Mary, her name was Mary..."
Spencer just stood there, right next to where you sat on the counter as you searched, racking every inch of your brain to find it. You couldn't give up or else he had won and you'd never hear the end of it and he wouldn't play cards with you and you wouldn't have an excuse to talk to him... wait, where did all those thoughts come from.
"Reid, I have it, I know it, I just-"
He looked at the watch on his wrist, his loose curls falling over his face again. Goddamnit, Spencer Reid... You only had seconds as Spencer counted down. Mary... Mary Smith... Mary So- Mary Somer... Mary Somerville.
"One, ze-"
"Mary Somerville!" You said, maybe a little too loudly. But you knew it was too late. Spencer had won. You sat there, looking at your hands for a moment while he stood there in what seemed like shock at his winning, but the odd tension still pressed, even with your loss. It seemed like Spencer felt it too because you looked up at each other at the exact same time and it was a silently-made mutual decision that led to both your lips and his crashing into the other person's.
It happened so quickly- you opened your knees to allow him closer, your hands on either side of his face, holding his jaw as you kissed him with the same power he kissed you. His hands on your waist and knee. So this was what the tension lead to, huh?
Kissing him from slightly above him gave you the advantage of kissing harder, which he easily allowed and returned. You slid your fingers back into his hair, the hair you had so awkwardly complimented. Of course, you understood yourself and your awkward comments about his hair because in reality, you meant 'please kiss me already'.
There was no noise other than the travelling of hands, short breaths, and lips on lips in the room and that sound was much better than the entire silence from the moment before. Hatred was never hatred, not even when it was mock hatred. It was always that pending feeling of hidden lust that shied behind mockery and mindset. And it was fucking hot.
He didn't protest when you broke the kiss to pull his sweater over his head. He didn't care when you gripped his shoulder and pulled his hair with the other hand. All this time you'd spend pretending to be rivals was being released into the air in the means of pheromones and you were all he really wanted then, there, now.
It was becoming messier by the second as you pulled your tank top over your head and tossed it aside like you did his sweater. His hands of course travelled upward to where they needed to be. You'd thought him inexperienced, but perhaps you were wrong.
"I fucking hate you," you mumbled against his lips and tugging his hair, a grin playing on your lips as he reached to untie the strings of his pants. He looked up for a moment, his eyes were half-lidded but determined.
"I hate y-you too," he managed the same grin and pulled you back into that same kiss he performed so vehemently. Oh, he was a mess. Spencer Reid would be the death of you. His long fingers moved delicately over your body, leaving goosebumps over your chest and the feeling of ice trails on your hot skin. You wrapped your legs around him, keeping him trapped and close.
Your lips left his mouth, trailing down his cheek, then his jaw, below his jaw. His breath was sharp and your lips were teasing. He smelled good, too. If only you'd figured out things were supposed to be this way sooner...
Poor Doctor Reid's hands were so cold compared to your body. You let them explore as you continued to kiss and lightly bite his neck. It was your turn to ask the question of risk, "Do you want this, Reid?"
He nodded more than he needed to, kissing you properly again. "Yes." A solid, strict, and determined- yet lust-filled yes. It was signal enough. Kissing led to touching and more touching lead to breathing harder. You doubted Spencer Reid was a virgin at all with the way he knew exactly where to touch...
He didn't even bother taking you to the bed that was six feet away from the counter. He didn't care and neither did you and it took him a second to actually get going, but once he did, everything fell right into place. His touch was soft, but his hips rough. You were breathing hard as he went, doing everything perfectly with his perfect body and his perfect hair right back in his face. He looked like hell, but in the best possible way.
Spencer Reid was, in fact, the death of you. Everything was in haze- breathing, kissing, touches, thrusts, trying to be as quiet as you could but small whimpers slipped from your lips and occasionally noises from him. Your nails in his shoulder and on his back as he practically fell to pieces in front of you, coming undone the same way you did only seconds later. You had to physically cover your mouth to stay quiet.
The air became ten times hotter when he rested his head on your bare shoulder, not even bothering to pull out. He was there, you were there... you had just fucked the man who you had pretended was your enemy and god, was it good. You were surprised that this had happened at all, it was so unbelievably unguessed earlier. You just wanted to win and your loss came to a prize anyway.
He took a second to recover, then kissed your shoulder which was unexpected and oddly sweet. You thought it was rivalry sex to diffuse tension, but that wasn't how it felt to you anymore and... maybe not to him either. Spencer pulled out, discarding protection and cleaning himself up a little. No words were spoken now as he put his pyjama pants back on and you fixed yourself up too, slipping your legs into your loose pants and tank top back over your head.
You took a cup that was belonging to the hotel and filled it with water, then you slipped off the counter and handed it to Spencer. When he took it, he looked just like you probably had when he had kissed your shoulder. "Thank you." He said, blinking a few times. Were things awkward for him now? Was he expecting you to leave, now?
"I can go if you want me to, Spencer," you said, pointing back at the door. "If I've overstayed, I'm sorry."
"N-no-" he blurted, nearly spitting his water out. "No, you haven't overstayed, I like you here- I just... I don't know how good that was and my mind is kind of everywhere because it happened so quickly and it was all so-so-so unexpected and I... wow."
He ran a hand through his hair frantically, his fingers shaking a little. There were those butterflies again...
"Spencer, it was good. It was more than good, holy fuck." You assured him, stepping closer. He set down the cup of water. "You did so well, I can hardly-" Your shaking knee gave out at just the right time and he caught you by your hands before you hit the ground. "See?"
He was smiling that shy, crooked grin. Everything was ten times sweeter now and it seemed like maybe you didn't really need to pretend to hate him anymore. It's much easier to humiliate, degrade and just generally shit all over someone than it is to admit that you like them. But here you were, looking up at him.
"I told you, Dr.Reid, that somewhere deep down, you liked me."
"Coworkers at worst," he reminded you jokingly.
"You just fucked me nearly senseless, I don't think 'coworkers at worst' works on me anymore." You grinned, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. "Just kiss me again, Dr.Reid."
He didn't even hesitate to take your face in his hands, kissing you sweetly, a little different than earlier. This time he wasn't entirely frenzied by the rush and need to touch and grasp and this time, there was meaning... there was diffusion... and it was loving.
The only real issue was that tomorrow, both of you had to face a team full of profilers who would take greatly accurate guesses as to why you and Spencer suddenly got along.
Tags: @laurakirsten0502
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the power of making baby spence unload in his pants is something that i think about daily, like his weak little moans, his pink, flushed cheeks, his head rolling back and his eyes gently fluttering shut while his hips buck up to get any sort of friction.
(This fic is based on a post rebloged by @cosmicreidd 😌)
WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT
Spencer and you had been dating for two months, twenty-six days, and 395 hours, according to the genius's precise calculations, and neither of you had ever been as comfortable in a relationship with another person as you were with each other.
You and Reid had the kind of relationship where you could understand each other with a single look, an action, or a simple nod.
That's why, as you watched him read with his characteristic speed from your spot on the sofa, you knew something was wrong.
I mean, he was reading as he always did, his posture indicated he was focused, but the slight movement of his eyes leaving the page to glance at you out of the corner of his eye indicated that something was bothering him, something he wasn't telling you.
"Spence," you called, making him look up at you. His brown eyes studied you gently. "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"
"Yes, perfectly fine, I…" He offered a shy smile before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Everything's fine."
"Okay," you nodded. "You know you can tell me whatever it is, right?" He nodded before returning to his reading.
You spent a few more minutes in silence until his voice broke it again.
He closed the book and set it aside before looking at you again, a gesture that told you that whatever he was about to say, it was important that you listen closely.
"The other day I was… reading the book Morgan gave me for my birthday," he began, nervously wetting his lips, "and… well, let's just say he lied to me about the plot."
"What was the book about, Spence?" “—you whispered gently, his gaze fixed firmly on yours—
“Well, it was set in a fictional world with dragons, monsters, and all sorts of creatures,” he said. “Everything was going well until the two main characters had to get married to end the war between their territories, and…” He cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing a light red. “Let’s just say they spend their wedding night in a… intense and passionate way,” he blurted out. “The author describes it all quite explicitly, and… I felt…”
“How?” you whispered, slowly moving closer to him until your knees were touching. “What did you feel?”
“I felt tension, longing, and desire,” he blurted out, looking directly into your eyes. “Y/N, I… the reason I’m telling you this might seem a bit daring or strange, so if you don’t want to hear it, we can…”
“No,” you interrupted gently. “I want to hear it, whatever it is.”
“Okay,” he took a deep breath for a moment before continuing. “In the book, the protagonist…” He swallowed hard. “You could say she overstimulates him and…”
“She dominates him” you finished the sentence for him, and he nodded slowly. “And you want me to do the same to you?” you asked, and when he nodded again, you thought you would faint from the happiness you felt. “You want me to take you to the edge of the precipice and be the one to say when you can release? Is that what you want?”
"I-it didn't mention anything about a cliff in the book, but…" He stopped when he saw the smile on your lips. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. "Oh, it was just a figure of speech, right?"
"Yes," you nodded, and he chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving yours.
You looked at each other for a few seconds, until you took control of the situation and sat on his lap.
You could feel the muscles of his legs against the inside of your thighs.
You looked up; his brown eyes shone brightly as he gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Before we start, let's establish some ground rules," you murmured. "If you don't like something, or if I'm making you uncomfortable, or if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will. I'll stop and we'll pretend nothing happened, okay?"
"Okay," he said, raising his hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, "although once you start, I don't think I'll ask you to stop, I'll beg you not to" he blurted out, making your breath catch in your throat for a few long seconds.
"Spence, you can't say that… with that face," you complained.
He raised an eyebrow suggestively, before giving a small smile, fully aware of how much that gesture affected you.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "What face are you…?"
You cut him off, pressing your lips to his.
You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sucking in every gasp and moan that escaped your lips.
You tugged at his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a sigh from the back of his throat, which made your self-control waver for a few moments.
You pulled away to look at him for a moment.
His brown eyes now shone brighter than before, and his lips were swollen and red from the kisses you had shared.
His hair was tousled from how many times you had run your fingers through it while kissing him. Your breathing was also ragged.
His chest rose and fell steadily, as if he were struggling to catch the breath he'd just lost.
"Oh, Spence," you murmured, "you're practically trembling and we've only kissed," you whispered. "It's going to be a VERY long night," you added, bringing your lips together again.
As the night wore on (and with each piece of clothing that fell to the floor), you discovered more about him, things you hadn't known before and that you loved, like how much he loved it when you kissed his neck.
You didn't know what it was, but there was something about the act of placing your lips where his pulse beat that seemed to drive him wild.
You also discovered that he had a hard time keeping his hands still and away from you.
Whenever he had the chance, he would hold you by the waist to pull you closer, or cup your face in his hands as he kissed you, or simply gently intertwine his hands with yours, as if he wanted to make sure you were real, and that this was really happening.
You felt him tense up when you slid your hand down his torso to his lower abdomen.
You observed the expressions on his face: his eyes wide, his lips parted as he inhaled in trembling breaths, and his hands clenched into fists on either side of the mattress.
"Spencer, look at me," you whispered. He did. "We don't have to go on, you know that, right?" “We can…” you murmured.
“No, I want to continue, please, I…” He swallowed hard. “I need you to touch me, I want you to touch me, please,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with excitement.
“Okay,” you nodded. “I’m going to touch you, Spence, but I want you to look at me when I do,” you whispered. “I want to see the expression in your eyes when I have you completely at my mercy.”
“Okay,” he managed to say, his eyes locked on yours. “Y/N, please, don’t torture me anymore, s-so…”
The end of his plea turned into a ragged gasp when he felt you around him.
You didn’t miss a single detail of the expressions that crossed his face. He let out a nervous laugh, his gaze never leaving yours.
“You… you’re…” He stopped, and for the first time, he did something you never expected him to do: he swore. “…shit. Are you sure you don’t want to kill me?”
“100% sure,” you affirmed, a lopsided smile playing on your lips before you began to move.
He let out a muffled moan, throwing his head back. Involuntarily, his hips began to move against your fist, making your smile widen.
“Look at you, fucking my hand like it’s the only one in the world,” you whispered. “I didn’t expect this from the proper, seemingly shy Dr. Reid,” you teased, making him gasp audibly.
“None of my PHD's prepared me for this” he complained, as you choked back the laughter rising in your throat. “Y/N, I… I think I’m going to…”
“Don’t, Spence, not yet,” you whispered. “Remember what we said earlier?” you asked. “What a silly question, of course you remember,” you murmured. “What did I tell you?”
"You asked me… if I wanted you to be the one to tell me when I could…" he gasped, "…unload."
"That's right," you confirmed. "And what did you answer?"
"That yes, I wanted you to be" he sighed, arching his back to lie face up on the sofa.
"That's right," you affirmed. "You're very good at following the rules, so you're going to be a good boy, and you're going to keep your word, right?"
"Y-yes," he nodded. "I… I'll be a good boy for you, love" he replied. "Oh shit, I can't… I can't hold on much longer, I…"
"Just a little longer, my love, you're doing so well," you whispered. "I'm SO proud of you," you murmured, your gaze never leaving his. "I can feel you getting closer to the edge of the cliff, but to let yourself fall, you just have to say the magic words, the ones we've talked about so many times. Now's the time to…"
"I love you," he interrupted, making your eyes widen, since in all the time you'd been together, this was the first time he'd said it.
"Say it again," you asked gently. He gave a lopsided smile, cupping your face in his hands.
"I love you," he said, placing a tender kiss on your lips as he fell over the cliff.
"I love you too, Spence." –you replied, as you watched him catch his breath–
Spencer knew that Cicero once said the eyes were the window to the soul.
And that night he saw it for himself when they shone like a pair of Christmas lights as he slid his index and middle fingers inside you.
You stifled a moan, noticing how he moved with a mastery you hadn't known existed, grazing your clitoris as if it weren't the first time.
You could feel the cold of his watch strap against the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp each time it touched you.
You had spent most of the morning staring at his hands, making no attempt to hide it.
Reid was a very observant and attentive person, which is why he knew about your little obsession (if you can call it that) with his hands, especially his fingers.
Spencer knew perfectly well that you had trouble concentrating when you were working on a case and had to read a file, because even though he could read 200,000 words per minute, he found it easier to keep his index finger resting on each line he read, so as not to lose his place.
Your ADHD certainly didn't help you concentrate as well as you'd like, but the slow, deliberate movement of his fingers across the pages of the file wasn't exactly helping your ultimate goal either, which was to manage to read at least a couple more lines beyond the ones you'd already read.
Spencer looked up when he felt your gaze, catching you red-handed. You held his gaze for a moment, before swallowing hard and looking back at the file.
"Y/N," he whispered gently, "What's wrong? Have you discovered anything?"
"No… not yet. I'm…" you cleared your throat, "trying to find a connection between the unsub and the victims' friends," you murmured, "but I haven't found anything yet."
"Okay," he nodded, before continuing to read.
From that moment on, Spencer began to notice certain behaviors in you that he hadn't seen before.
Like the way you looked at his hands whenever he started explaining something related to the case, or how, completely involuntarily, your fingers would brush against his from time to time.
With that in mind, the genius began to develop a profile of you in his mind.
The team had once said they wouldn't analyze each other unless absolutely necessary, but Spencer felt THAT was a situation of EXTREME necessity.
So he began evaluating your various behaviors toward him, as well as how you acted around him.
He learned that the gestures you made toward him might seem small to others, but to him they were significant and full of meaning, like that time the office coffee machine broke and you gave him your coffee instead of drinking it.
They were small gestures, simple gestures, that after several weeks of analysis, Spencer understood were your way of showing people you cared.
He called it "intangible love" because you couldn't see it or touch it, but somehow you knew it was there.
He felt it, hovering around you with every little action you took throughout the days.
After all that investigation, the day came when Reid noticed a sudden change in you. It was subtle, yet significant.
Spencer realized then that whenever he moved, the first thing your attention was drawn to wasn't his face or mouth, but his hands.
It was true that he was prone to gesturing with them constantly, as it was the best way he found to express himself, but until that moment he hadn't noticed how much you seemed to be observing his every move.
For weeks, you had exchanged fleeting glances and meaningful gestures between meetings, during cases, or on one occasion in the BAU hallways, leading him to believe that your relationship had evolved into something more than just colleagues and friends.
He wanted to talk to you about it, but he didn't know how.
He had no idea where to begin, or what he was supposed to say, so he took the advice Morgan had once given him.
He would be himself, and everything would be fine.
So, with that thought in mind, he looked up from the computer in front of him, tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, and approached your desk.
You looked up at him and greeted him with your usual smile.
"Spence, hi," you murmured. "What's up? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, everything's fine, Y/N," he whispered, pressing his lips shyly together. "Can we…" he cleared his throat nervously, "…talk?" he finished. You nodded slowly.
"Sure," you replied, frowning. "I'm right behind you."
Spencer knew there was a room in the back of the BAU that was never used, so he decided on the spot that it was the perfect place to talk.
He opened the door for you to go in first and closed it behind him.
You observed the grayish walls for a moment, before resting your gaze on him.
"Spencer, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're scaring me."
"I promise I didn't mean to. I just… I need to talk to you."
"Okay, talk then," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."
"I don't know how I should tell you this, so I'll just say it." He took a deep breath for a moment before speaking. "I haven't been able to help noticing that these last few weeks you've been looking at me with genuine interest," he whispered. "And I can't help wondering why," he continued. "So I… maybe I've been analyzing you," he blurted out. "I mean, not analyzing, I meant… studying you, although now that I'm saying it out loud, I don't know if it sounds better or worse." The truth is, it sounded better in my head…
“I understand,” you whispered. “You want to know why my attention is focused on you every few minutes, don’t you?”
“That’s right,” he agreed, looking at you intently with his chocolate-brown eyes. “I’ve calculated all the variables, applied theorems, and created equations to solve this mystery, but none of it seems to work, since none of it gives me a favorable result that would explain why…”
“Spence,” you gently stopped him, “I’m flattered that you’ve investigated so much, but hasn’t it occurred to you that what’s happening is simpler than all that you just explained to me?”
“Maybe, but the data has never let me down, just like numbers never lie,” he replied. “I don’t know…”
“I’m in love with you,” you blurted out, making him stop abruptly. He focused his gaze on your eyes and saw a strange gleam in them, one he’d never seen before.
“No, you need me in a more intimate way. More…deep,” he whispered, his voice dropping two octaves as he said it.
“I need you because I’m in love with you,” you repeated. “One thing doesn’t exclude the other.”
“I see you know the theory very well,” he murmured, taking a couple of slow steps toward you until you were only inches apart. “But how are you at putting it into practice?”
"I can't tell you if we don't do it," you smiled, playing along. "To refute a theory, you first have to identify its weaknesses," you murmured, "and I don't have any…"
"Yes, you do," he interrupted gently. "We all have weaknesses, it's just that some people know how to hide them better than others," he said, his eyes meeting yours firmly. "I'm your weakness, and you…" He swallowed hard. "…you're mine."
You held each other's gaze for a few moments that seemed like an eternity, until, without knowing exactly who had moved first, you went from talking to kissing as if your lives depended on it.
Spencer's lips were demanding on yours, as if he had been wanting to do this for a long time.
You weren't far behind either.
You tangled your fingers in the strands of his curly hair, feeling him press you harder and harder against the wall behind you.
After that, everything happened very quickly.
Spencer refuted the theory that you were obsessed with his fingers the very instant he saw you lose your mind as he moved them inside you, grazing, pinching, and stimulating your clitoris in ways that clearly no one ever had.
At some point during that interaction, you pushed your hips against his hand, seeking the release you needed, while he was forced to cover your mouth with his hand so the entire agency wouldn't find out what was happening.
Within minutes, thanks to his eidetic memory, Spencer had perfectly learned how your body worked.
He knew the exact spots to touch, and when to touch them, but above all, he knew when you needed to stop and take a short break before moving against him again.
This was how Spencer put his theory to the test, and discovered that his research had been worthwhile because he had been able to confirm that, one: you were in love with him, and two: he was in love with you too.
