#Spencer Reid/you

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Secretly Mine

Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge

Category: Fluff

Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.

One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.

New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.

Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.

Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.

So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.

Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.

And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.

You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.

The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.

Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?

His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.

It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”

You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”

He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”

You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”

“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.

You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”

His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”

As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?

And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Childfree S.R. Fics

Hey friends! I'm back with another Rec List of Fics revolving around Childfree Spencer! As always, big thanks to my friends and @dreatine and @specialagentsergio in particular for your recommendations!

If you write/already have a fic about Spencer being ambivalent about/not wanting children, please let me know and I’ll add it here!

Offering Options by @foxy-eva: When Spencer finds out about his girlfriend’s pregnancy, he makes sure she knows he will stay by her side no matter what.

Of Anything by @reidscanehand: Reader overhears JJ talking about whether Spencer wants kids.

Guilty and Ashamed by @alisonsfics: Reader comes clean about terminating her pregnancy and Spencer comforts her.

Until We Turn to Dust by @reidslibrarybook: After finding out why Reader has been avoiding him for weeks, Spencer reassures her that he’ll always be there for her.

Untitled by @bisexual-thoughtss: Reader confesses something to Spencer.

Enough by @radiant-reid: Almost ending their engagement, Reader learns something she thought influenced Spencer’s decision actually didn’t matter.

[fandom-alley]

Rekindling at the Spa

18+

Summary: Spencer has an evening at the spa as per his doctors orders, and meets up with a girl he met at Penelope's over a year ago. This time he convinces himself not to leave without getting her phone number, but he ends up getting a little bit more.

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)

Warnings: 18+, kissing, making out, semi-public (no ones around) grinding, coming untouched/in pants

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: inspired by my recent trip to the spa where i realized just how single i am. this is my first time writing something spicier than making out, so it's not a lot and just at the end, go easy on me lol

Also on AO3

The last thing Spencer Reid wanted to do was spend his evening at the hydrotherapy spa. Germs from the water of hot tubs could make you sick if consumed, and so could the vapour that comes off the water. Not to mention the possibility of a rash due to the chemicals used. But it was his doctor's orders. Apparently his own doctoral status was not good enough to sway them to let him come back to work early and skip this step. 

There were many steps he had to complete as part of his recovery process; resting his injured leg, physical therapy, changes to his diet, therapy for his mental health. And the dreaded ‘spa relaxation’.

Now, most doctors probably wouldn’t prescribe a day at the spa as something to do as part of recovery, but Spencer’s doctor knew him well. He knew that throughout the last month, even though Spencer had completed most of his steps, he wasn’t relaxing through any of it. And his doctor was correct. Spencer’s brain had been working double time, reading twice the amount of books he usually did in a day while he was immobile elevating his injured leg. Reading up on new techniques for profiling and offering tips to the BAU when they worked a local case.

His doctor could tell that his inability to relax his brain, therefore relaxing his body, was the last step in holding him back from complete recovery.

So here he was, entering a Nordic hydrotherapy spa, where he was not allowed to bring in any cell phones, tablets, or hold loud conversations with anyone. And while it was acceptable to bring books in to read, Spencer didn’t want to risk dropping one in the water and ruining it. So he was about to be forced to put his self meditation techniques to use. 

After changing into his swim shorts, putting on the complimentary robe and locking away his belongings, Spencer stepped out of the main building into the frigid evening air. He breathed in the scent of salt, chlorine, and eucalyptus from the nearby steam room. Hidden speakers in the plant beds around the property played out relaxing spa style music. Spencer had to admit, despite his reservations regarding germs, he already did feel quite relaxed.

The steam coming off the hot pools seemed to blanket the grounds in silence. It wasn’t that busy, but Spencer spotted a few people relaxing in the pools and walking in-between sections of the spa grounds. 

Upon his check in tonight, the kind lady at the front desk informed him how to use the spa for maximum relaxation and hydrotherapy benefits. She recommended he sit in a hot pool for 10 to 15 minutes, take a plunge in the cold pool for at least 15 seconds or as long as he could handle, and then relax in a sauna, steam room, or relaxation room before continuing the process a few times.

The property was large, with 4 different hot pools, 3 different cold plunge pools, 2 rooms for wood burning saunas, the eucalyptus steam room, and multiple chairs dotting the ground surrounding fireplaces where you could sit and relax. Without putting too much thought to it, Spencer hung up his robe near the closest hot pool and stepped into the burning water. 

The change in temperature stung his cold toes as they started to warm up. The water was only up to his waist as he waded through past a few couples sitting to the sides. He made his way to the back of the pool where it was blissfully empty and took a seat. Since he was so tall sitting on the built in seats along the edge of the pool, the water only went up to mid chest. But the rest of his exposed skin felt refreshed with the cool air blowing over him. A good contrast to the hot water covering the rest of his body.

Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to shut his brain off. It worked for a few minutes, before he heard a couple a few feet over whispering sweet nothings to each other. It just made Spencer start thinking about his own lacklustre love life.

With his job in the BAU there wasn't that much opportunity and time for a relationship. Sure, some of his co-workers had figured it out. Like JJ and Will for instance. Spencer had seen how difficult it was for Morgan to hold down a relationship with their crazy work hours as well.

He hadn't really put that much effort into a relationship, though. Part of the reason was that he just didn't have the time. Some of the cases kept them away from home for weeks at a time. Sometimes to the point where he really didn't know how his friends and co-workers were able to keep it up. He was the type of guy who wanted to get to know someone, be around them lots in the early stages, and that was just too hard with work.

Spencer jolted out of his daydream when someone splashed into the seat next to him.

"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to a pretty girl, who if he had to guess was maybe just a few years younger than him. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't seem to place where he recognized her from. "You're Dr. Spencer Reid, right?" She asked.

"Yes, that's me," he replied with a furrowed brow, wracking his brain on why her big brown eyes looked like they knew him as well.

Thankfully she caught on to his confusion. "I'm y/n. Penelope's friend from book club. We met a year ago at her place when she had a viewing party for the season finale of Love Is Blind. I almost didn't go because I really don't watch reality TV, but I had just moved to the area and I wanted to try and make some friends."

Spencer remembered her now. Back then at the party she had her hair down in unruly curls and it was the colour of fire engine red. Now her hair was tied back to stay out of the water and it was the colour of midnight black. He wasn't one to forget a face, or forget much of anything really. But something about a dramatic change in hair colour and style had the Clark Kent effect on him. Maybe it was because he was in a pretty decent state of relaxation.

"I remember you," he said, nodding his head in recognition. "I also didn't want to go to that party but Penelope is hard to say no to."

Y/n laughed, "Yes she is, isn't she. It's good though. Because of her persistence I was able to make a few friends that night. And on multiple other nights as well. Penelope frequently tries to set me up on dates." She was talking pretty quietly as per spa rules, and it would have been hard to hear if she hadn't sat close and leaned in while she talked. Normally Spencer would have backed away, but something about her presence was soothing. Or maybe that was just the water jets from the pool shooting into his back.

"So what brings you to the spa tonight?" Spencer asked her. He might have met her back then at the party, but they hadn't said many words to each other. He remembered being slightly intimidated by her fiery hair and bubbly personality and after their initial introduction he snuck away with his glass of juice to browse Pen's book collection.

"Actually, it was a birthday gift from Penelope!" Y/n smiled.

"Oh, happy birthday." Spencer smiled back at her. Why was he intimidated back then, he thought to himself. She was so beautiful and so nice, and so far fairly easy to talk to, it seemed.

"Thank you. But it's actually not until next month. Penelope just told me this was the only night she could get a reservation and that when my actual birthday happened she would buy me a cake," y/n laughed. 

Spencer pursed his lips in confusion. When he booked his reservation on his doctor's orders, there looked to have been multiple available times from now until the end of the year. The only day that was sold out was Thanksgiving weekend.

"When did she give you the gift with the reservation in it?" He asked y/n, with a hint of scepticism in his voice.

"About 3 days ago I think it was," she answered. About 3 days ago is when Spencer called up Penelope to rant to her about being forced to go to this spa. Was it possible Pen had given Y/n the gift as an excuse to try and set them up? Back at the party he had gotten the vibe when she introduced them that she wanted them to become friends. But Spencer had never gotten her number or email, and figured it just wasn't meant to be. Although how could it be, when he actively avoided her most of that night.

"What a coincidence that we're both here on the same night," Spencer told her.

"I know, right? I wasn't completely sure that you were you when I saw you sitting over here. But you're a hard one to forget, Dr. Reid," y/n said. Was that a blush he saw forming on her cheeks, or was she just getting too warm from the water.

"You can just call me Spencer. I really don't make anyone use doctor unless we're at work," he chuckled.

"Will do, Spencer. I hope you don't mind that I came over to sit with you. I can leave if you want the relaxation of being alone." She started to slide away from her seat slowly, giving him the opportunity to tell her she didn't need to leave. Which is exactly what he did.

"I don't mind. It's kind of nice to have company. I didn't realize how many people went to the spa with their partners," he told her. 

"Well, perfect. We can experience this spa together then. So how come you didn't come here with your partner?" Y/n asked slyly. Spencer could feel his face heat up with the attention turned to himself.

"No partner. I actually had to come here by doctor's orders. I got shot in the leg last month, and as the last part of recovery my doctor wanted me to relax more and figured what better way to force me to relax than to send me to the spa.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m tempted to ask if you’re okay, but it seems like you are, since you’re sitting here. I had no idea your job could lead to such violence,” Y/n exclaimed. 

“Every day is something different. They usually keep me off the field working from the office or police stations, but even then you never know what could happen,” Spencer explained.

“Wow. Okay, sorry. This is supposed to be relaxing and here I am bringing up work talk. What do you say we take a plunge into the cold?” Y/n asked with a grin.

This was probably the experience at the spa he was least likely to enjoy, but he followed her out of the water and next door to the cold pool. It was completely empty and Spencer was not surprised. Y/n grabbed his hand, sending a shock through his body, as they stood at the top of the stairs to the pool.

“It’s pretty likely that one of us is going to wimp out once our feet hit the water. So if need be, we have to drag the other person in, okay?” She said as she looked up at him. His voice got caught in his throat as he looked down at her and all he could do was nod in agreement. 

With a deep breath in, together they stepped onto the first step. It was so cold Spencer felt like his toes would fall off in a second. However he didn’t even get a second thought to think about stepping back out before y/n fell forward into the water, pulling him with her. He had to grab onto her hips for stability so he didn’t end up falling on top of her in the 3 feet of water. 

“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.

It might have been 15 seconds, it might have been 5 minutes, but Spencer felt lost in time as he held Y/n in his arms in the freezing cold water. He didn’t even feel that cold in the places where Y/n’s skin touched his. Slowly, as if held down by some invisible force, he removed his hands from her hips and grabbed her hand this time to help her out of the water.

Feeling a new burst of energy from the cold shock, Spencer helped Y/n into her robe before putting on his, then wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to one of the saunas. Inside, they were met with a blast of heat as Spencer guided Y/n to the back bench. Every seat in the sauna faced a wall made of glass that overlooked a small lake with a fountain cascading in the middle. As he relaxed into his seat, Y/n decided to lay out on the bench beside him and use his thigh as a head rest. 

Neither of them said a word as they gazed out the window, watching the birds fly by and the ducks swim in the lake. 

Spencer thought back to the night of Penelope’s party. After he had pushed himself to the wall to avoid interacting with people, he did end up watching from afar as Y/n made her way around talking to all the guests. He might have initially felt intimidated, but he was also fascinated with her. He’d seen a lot of different people with his job, and he’d seen people with colourfully dyed hair before as well, but something about her red curls just drew in his eyes and he couldn’t take them back.

She was beautiful, enchanting even, and he wanted to get her phone number. But then he had thought back to their last case. Where they had been gone for 16 days in a row. He had watched JJ as she video called Will and her kids any chance they got. Watched Hotch take numerous phone calls from his son. Even Morgan escaped for private chats with Savannah. He wasn’t sure if that was something he would be able to handle. So eventually he said goodnight to Penelope, left the party, and left any thoughts he had about Y/n behind as well.

Now that Penelope had schemingly gotten her back into his life, he was determined to make sure he got her number before leaving again. 

Spencer and Y/n enjoyed the spa amenities for another couple hours, cycling through the recommended steps while chatting quietly or relaxing in silence. Despite not doing much, they started to feel tired from the heated pools and saunas before eventually agreeing to meet outside in the parking lot after they got changed so they could say a proper goodbye.

Spencer rushed through changing, not wanting to take too long in case Y/n decided she didn’t want to stay, and made it outside in record time. He stood off to the side at the parking lot entrance, waiting for her with his heart racing. It took her a little bit longer, but eventually he saw her walking down the path. 

Her hair was down now, damp and a little frizzy from her curls trying to poke through. Wearing a simple black zip up sweater and black leggings, she looked cozy but also like she was about to rob a bank. She smiled at him when she reached his spot, taking his hand in hers to lead him to where she parked. The lot had almost emptied, leaving mostly staff vehicles and the last few remaining spa guests wanting to get every minute out of their visit as they could. Even with the empty lot, Y/n led Spencer to her car, a little black Honda, parked alone in the corner lit up only by the bright moon in the sky. 

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, Spencer,” Y/n told him when they stopped beside her car. She didn’t move to unlock it, opting instead to stand there with her hand still clasped in his.

“Of course. It was really lovely to see you again, Y/n,” said Spencer. Okay, he thought to himself, now is the time to do it. Bite the bullet and ask for her number. “Would you, maybe, be willing to exchange numbers and we can plan to go out for coffee some time soon?”

Y/n broke into a smile. “I would love that,” she said before reciting her number. She knew he would remember it, if Penelope’s constant chatter about how amazing Spencer’s memory is was to be true. 

“Awesome. So, I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Spencer moved to head back to his own vehicle but was stopped by a hand placed on the centre of his chest.

“Yeah. Or,” said Y/n, “Maybe we could do this?”

Before he could ask what ‘this’ was, she used the hand on his chest to push him back against the door of her car. Then she leaned in, rising up onto her toes to try and match his height, and placed her lips on his. It was quick, but enough to leave Spencer breathless, before she pulled away the slightest bit to look into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” she asked, and when he mumbled out a yes, nodding his head, she wasted no time going back in.

Their lips crashed together in an instant, almost too eager to finally be getting what they’ve both been craving all night. Y/n removed her hand from his chest to bring both of them into his hair, feeling the damp curls and giving them a little tug. Spencer brought his arms around her waist tightly, bringing her in closer to help relieve the strain of standing on her toes. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening, and in a parking lot. But he wouldn’t change a thing. Y/n’s hands made their way down to the back of his neck, before she brought them to his jaw. He let out a groan when she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth, before their tongues collided with one another.  

Spencer brought his hands down even further, to grip the soft area at the back of her thigh just underneath her butt. He used his new grip to pull her up higher, spinning them around so that it was her back pressed against the car this time. She wrapped her legs around him to hold on as Spencer moved one of his hands up to her face, running his fingers along her jaw before finally pushing her hair back away from her neck. He broke away from her mouth to trail kisses along her neck, stopping to suck or nip at areas that drew a soft moan from her lips. He made his way down to her chest, where she had left part of the sweater unzipped. 

When he pulled back on the sweater he stopped with a groan, breathing deeply as he held her closer and grew tighter in his pants. Where he was expecting to see some sort of lace bra, instead he was met with nothing. She wasn’t wearing anything under the sweater. Hungrily, he opened her sweater more and he attached himself to the soft swell of her breast. Kissing, sucking, and gently biting. 

Without even realizing it, they started to move against each other. Spencer rolled his hips against hers, seeking that friction but focusing his attention on the skin between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck.” Y/n threw her head back in a moan as Spencer finally attached his mouth to the hard nub that was waiting for attention. He swirled his tongue around as he sucked on the sensitive area. “That feels so good.” she groaned. She brought her hands up to tangle them in his hair and hold him in place, only letting him move when he wanted to show her other side some love as well. 

It was difficult to move much against the car, but Spencer was hitting her in all the right places. Y/n could feel a familiar welcomed pressure building in her core and she gripped her legs tighter around him.

“Spencer,” y/n breathed out. “I’m close.”

He lifted his head enough to look at her. Her head back and eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Yeah?” he asked and she nodded her head while trying to move her hips faster against his. 

Spencer ground into her with a new purpose now. Paying more attention to the moves from his hips, he went back to sucking on her breast. This time he brought his hand to palm the other one. Squeezing and feeling the fullness of it in his hand. He rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers at the same time as he gently grazed his teeth over the other one. It was enough to send Y/n over the edge, with Spencer right behind her. 

Spencer’s thrusts grew short until eventually they stopped as they came down from their high. He brought her in for another kiss, lazily moving his lips against hers while they got their breathing under control. Finally, Y/n unwrapped her legs from around him and he let her go.

“Holy shit. I can’t believe we just did that,” she said with a suddenly shy smile and glanced up at him. He looked down at her like he was seeing an angel. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He gripped the edges of her sweater and zipped it up tight to her neck. “What do you say we skip the coffee and go right back to my place?”

“I like the way you think. Lead the way.”

Click here for chapter 2! Available on AO3 only because it's basically smut and I was too nervous to post it on Tumblr lol

Thank you for reading, liking, or rebloging! <3

[starogeorgina]

All mine

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

1.02

You had expected Spencer to be in shock, stumble over his words, or be in denial when you told him you were expecting, but instead he focused on scribbling down a calendar on the back of a newspaper. Eventually, he looks up and asks, “Have you had a scan or blood work done yet?”

“Uh no, not yet.”

“Roughly how far along do you think you are? Sometimes the nurses and midwives calculate it from the date of conception or from your last period.”

You’re slightly taken aback by his question; you’d assumed Spencer would have worked it out in his head right away. You stare at him blankly while trying to figure out why he wasn’t freaking out.

“Spence,” he says, looking at you seemingly unaffected while awaiting your answer. It suddenly dawned on you that he might not have realized he’s the father. “This baby is yours.”

Spencer stares at you wide-eyed, in shock, before he finally snaps out of it and says, “Mine.” He freezes and sits with an unreadable expression on his face for a few moments until he’s able to talk again. “The baby is mine.”

You nod.

“We slept together nearly three months ago.”

“I know,” you say, feeling your hands begin to go calmly. He is watching you intensely, as if waiting for you to say something that will magically make the situation better. You feel the blood boil under your skin when you think about the unsub, who was unintentionally targeting the growling life inside you. In spite of the pregnancy being a total shock, you felt extremely protective already. Emotions start to swell inside you. “I’m scared,” you admit. “I’m scared of becoming a mother, of possibly losing a job I love, and of one of my closest friends, and I’m also terrified of what the unsub might do if they find out.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“Derek knows. I don’t want to tell anyone else yet, not until I’ve had a scan and know everything is okay.”

“How many tests did you take?”

“Twelve.”

Spencer smiles at your comment, his hand finding yours. “Our situation isn’t ideal, but I promise to be there for you every step of the way, but you need to book in with your doctor first thing in the morning.”

“I will,” you nod in agreement. “Until then, we need to keep Morgan quiet and hide that anything is going on from anyone else at work.”

“That will be easy. Hotch, Emily, and Rossi aren’t the most observant people; I’m sure they won’t notice something’s up,” Spencer says, making you laugh.

Although you were terrified, having Spencer confirm he would stand by you made it a little less frightening.

—

You and Spencer both stare at the small screen with your mouths agape. The sonographer has just confirmed you are ten weeks pregnant with twins. Spencer had called someone who owed him a favor, and within the hour he had discharged himself from hospital care, and you were getting scanned. Throughout the scan, Spencer’s nerves showed as he listed off rare diseases that can be missed on the scan. He didn’t seem to settle until it was confirmed the babies were okay.

“Can we actually have another few copies of those?” Spencer asks.

The sonographer agrees, prints off a few more copies of your scan, and hands it to him. It felt surreal knowing you had two tiny humans growing inside; it also made you more determined to find the unsub soon as possible. You wipe the gel off your stomach and sit up while the sonographer leaves the room to fill in some paperwork, and notice the way Spencer is staring at the black and white picture in his hand.

You put your hand on his back, “hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “We need to tell Hotch, I know you didn’t want to but seeing this now makes it so real.”

“I know. So what’s our plan now?”

“Well since I convinced Morgan and Garcia to go home, I’m guessing one of the cops will give us a ride back to the safe house. We’ll need to swing by my place first though so I can get some clothes.”

“You’re staying with me?”

He places his hand on your stomach, “I’ve got three reasons to stay with you.”

—

You twist the ring on your middle finger while nervously standing in front of the rest of your team, trying to find the courage to tell them you’re pregnant. You run head-first into danger nearly every single day, but this was different. You had so much more to lose if the killer found you. That morning you told Hotch, who congratulated you, until you said who the father was, and then he thought it was some kind of trick until Spencer pulled his wallet out and revealed the baby scan picture. Hotch offered to cover for you if you didn’t want to tell anyone else, but given the circumstances and the fact you were only two weeks away from reaching the three-month mark, you decided to tell them.

You cleared your throat; it made you feel selfish for interrupting the investigation, especially when the unsub had already killed three women. You cleared your throat. “I have something to tell you all, so I’m going to just come right out and say it. I’m pregnant with twins.”

Emily is the first to congratulate you; she hugs you and says, “Quinn, I’m so happy for you. I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”

“Uhh,” you pull back from her. “I’m not exactly…”

She raises her brows but says nothing; her gaze moves from you to Spencer, who places his hand on your shoulder. He smiles awkwardly at her, causing her mouth to fall open. Nobody else seemed to have caught on, but you noticed how stressed out Hotch looked. This whole situation was going to cause him a massive headache.

“And I’m the father,” Spencer blurts out.

The room falls silent until Gracia smacks Derek on the chest. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Damn baby girl, you’ve got a mean hit, and I only found out last night. Although I didn’t know it was twins.” He shakes Spencer’s hand. “I’m made up for you, Reid.”

When everyone is finished awkwardly congratulating you and Spencer, Hotch explains how the team was to continue as normal while searching for the unsub; the only difference was that you weren’t to go out on the field. He heavily hinted at keeping what they just learned a secret because the moment Erin Strauss finds out, she’ll remove either you or Spencer, which he didn’t believe was in his team's best interest. At least not for now.

—

Hearing your cell phone ring, you pull it from your pocket and stare at it, confused, before muting the call.

“Do you need to get that?” Hotch asks before delivering the profile.

So far, the evidence has pointed in the direction of the unsub being a white male in his mid-thirties. He’s highly intelligent and possibly had a job within the FBI. He was fired either by his boss, who was female, or because of an incident involving a female colleague, which is why he was only targeting women.

“It’s just my landlord; I’ll call him back later.”

“It’s the fourth time he’s called,” Spencer says, “you should answer the next one.”

When it rings again Hotch nods for you to answer it. You excuse yourself from the room and listen to what your landlord has to say. Shit. It was nothing good.

You step back into the room and say, “I think the unsub broke into my home.”

[smurphyse]

One Way Mirror | Spencer/Hotch/Alvez

Smurph's Masterlist

Warnings: hole in the wall, foursome, DP, oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, sex club, slapping, choking, spanking, toys, free use, aftercare

Summary: You like to spend your down time at a certain type of club... anonymity is key, but then one day the boys from the team come in for some nighttime fun.

Working at the BAU was stressful. Each day seemed a battle, and each night felt like a loss. You had no time for a personal life, nor the energy.

So, you usually ended up here. 

A wonderful club hidden away in a back alley, you spent most of your nights there. Hooking up took too much mental energy, too much work for a mediocre lay. Plus, it was dangerous, and you weren’t an idiot. No, this was the place for you. Each room had a different purpose, and you’d tried most of them. But, this was your favorite room. 

The one with the one way mirror.

You stamped your hand and headed inside, making a beeline for your room. You were even early so you could get your favorite booth. Dark sultry music played as you waltzed inside and shut the door behind you. 

Guys liked this room because of what it was, an oversized glory hole for them to use. The wall opened just enough for your waist to go through, a soft table on the other side for your chest to lay comfortably on while strange men used you for the night. There was a panel with three buttons on it; one red, one green, one yellow. You always kept it on green, a color system to let the men know they could keep going. So far you hadn't had a problem with anyone. 

The owner told you that a party had booked the room for the entire evening, and your body sizzled with excitement. You loved entertaining whole groups. Instead of the one by one men who came in and out of the room to use you, groups tended to rile one another up, trying to see who could make you cum the most. It was delicious.

Putting your things inside the booth, you stripped down to nothing but a pair of stilettos. With your naked ass bared for any to see as they entered the room, you closed the door around your waist and lay on the cushion in front of you. There was a mirror in front of you so you could see the people who used you. It was optional, but you liked to know everyone who came inside, to burn their faces and the sensations of their cocks in your memory. They couldn’t see you, though, and that was what was the most fun.

There was even a board next to where you lay on display, listing all the things they could do to you in this position. 

The owner always left a bottle of wine for you in the booth, and some lube and toys for the customers on the other side. You poured yourself a glass and waited patiently. People paid for the privilege to come to this club and participate, and anonymity was key. It was exclusive, expensive, and worth every penny.

You were already wet, just thinking of all the ways you would be used tonight, when the door opened behind you. You watched the mirror as the owner stepped in with a welcoming sweep of his hand across the room, “Welcome, gentlemen.”

Your heart nearly leapt through your throat at the group that followed him in. Aaron Hotchner, Luke Alvez, and Spencer Reid stepped through the door and into the lounge. You couldn’t believe it! They said they were going on a guy’s night to a bar, not to a sex club. Was this what they always got up to on their nights out? 

Hotch handed the owner a bill and shook his hand, “We’d like to be left alone for the night.”

“Understood,” he nodded in agreement. He pointed at the lights, “it’s a simple color system. Green means go. Yellow means slow down and pause until the light turns green again. Red means stop, and if it’s pressed someone will come in to check on her.”

He pointed to where your ass stuck out of the hole in the wall, “Ultimately, she’s in charge. Safety is our priority, gentlemen.”

Spencer leaned in with a cocked brow, “Can she even hear us?”

The owner nodded, “And you’ll hear her. She’s a screamer, that one. She’s also the best piece of ass you’ll find this side of the Mississippi.”

“Thanks,” Hotch nodded, quickly ushering him out of the room. He stuffed his wallet in his jacket pocket before shrugging it off. Draping it over one of the lounge chairs, Hotch plopped down in the seat and picked up a cigar waiting for them on the table next to a bottle of wine and some glasses. He lit it as Luke joined him, leaving Spencer watching your ass with wide eyes.

“It’s your birthday present, Reid,” Luke said cheerily, waving a hand toward you as you waited with bated breath and flushed cheeks. “Pick a hole, any hole, my friend.”

Your body couldn’t seem to help itself, your legs spreading wide and your back arching in pained anticipation. Oh, you’d thought about fucking Spencer Reid more than you’d thought about even Luke or Hotch. He’d been your boss long ago that you sinfully wished to screw on his desk, but he left, and when he came back was happy to work under Emily. But Spencer? All you wanted to do was tie him to a bed and fuck him until he was bone dry, pumped full with cum and his moans.

“See?” Hotch told him with a coy smile. “She wants it.” “You don’t know that,” Spencer whispered, but his eyes were transfixed on your slick cunt. 

Luke jerked his jaw toward the wall your ass peeked out of, “Give us a wiggle if you want him, sweetheart.”

You took a steadying breath. Your whole body trembled with excitement. Sure, you’d thought about them all individually… but somehow you hadn’t thought of taking them all at the same time. You truly were living the dream.

You shook your ass tantalizingly, and Spencer’s pupils dilated like saucers. Hotch stood, the cigar dangling out the side of his mouth and nearly making you cum at the sight. He put his hands on Spencer’s shoulders and murmured into his ear. “I told you, everyone who comes here chooses to. Nobody’s getting paid. They pay to live out their fantasies. You told me this was one of yours.”

Hotch took a deep pull off the cigar, blowing out smoke to the side. He handed it to Luke, who took it and set it in the ashtray for him. Hotch’s strong hands squeezed Spencer’s shoulder, and you watched with a dropped jaw as he pressed his lips to Spencer’s neck. 

"There's even a list of things for to do to her," he said, tapping the board with his knuckle. "You get to pick. She gets to take it."

Spencer closed his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath as Hotch smoothed his palms down his sides and slipped off his jacket, handing it back to Luke. He undid Spencer’s tie and let it fall to the floor, then slid his hands over Spencer’s crotch.

“It’s your birthday, Reid,” he murmured as he unzipped Spencer’s slacks. His deft fingers went quickly for his belt, letting it hang open as Spencer’s dick grew hard in his boxers. You nearly bit through your bottom lip as you saw it grow, thick and long… and then Hotch pulled him out of his boxers, dick springing free.

You always knew Spencer was beautiful, inside and out, but oh god was his cock a masterpiece. Hotch ushered him toward you, one of those large hands reaching around and gripping Spencer’s length at the base. He gently pumped him as Spencer stumbled forward. His hands hit the wall around you to brace himself as Hotch lined him up with your already dripping hole. 

“Have some fun. See how wet she is?” Hotch goaded him. He angled Spencer's cock to brush along your folds, so warm and hard against your aching cunt, and you couldn’t help but shudder. “She’s a little whore, waiting for you to use her. She’s just a hole.”

Hotch slapped your ass harshly, making you yelp, and Spencer’s eyes widened as it jiggled in front of him. “Isn’t that right, you little slut?”

That’s exactly what you wanted to hear, to be objectified so you could let go. Hotch pushed Spencer forward, his thick head breaching your hole. You moaned, your eyes rolling back as your walls stretched to accommodate his length. Spencer’s eyes flicked to the wall, goaded on by your sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," Spencer groaned as he inched inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his sheer girth. Hotch let him go, and Spencer's hands moved to grip your waist. 

They were strong and firm, wide palms smoothing over the expanse of your backside. He gave you a rough squeeze, then a light slap just to watch you bounce. You didn't even want to hold back your little moans as he rolled his hips to push further inside. 

His cock split you open, stretching you beautifully. You clutched the sides of the table tightly, nearly shredding the cushion as he bottomed out. 

Spencer's voice was strained, but soft as he sweetly asked you, "You're sure you want this?"

"Of course she does, Reid, or she wouldn't be here," Luke told him gently. "Look at her board. She wants to be used and degraded, like the cocksleeve she is."

With gritted teeth you slammed your fist down on the green button, over and over so it shone brightly in their room. Spencer's dick twitched inside you, so sinfully dirty to be fucking your coworker without his knowledge. 

"That's what you want, huh?" Spencer asked softly as he pulled out. You were about to slam that button again when his hands gripped the extra flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise. He shoved his cock back into you harshly, stars rocketing across your vision at the sensation. 

"Oh!" you cried out as he did it again. Soon enough he picked up his pace, railing you roughly into the table. You were sure your stomach would be badly bruised after, and you couldn't wait to see them. "Oh, fuck yes!"

"See?" Hotch cooed, egging Spencer on. "There you go, fuck her like the dirty whore she is."

Spencer seemed to let go then, using you like a sleeve as he rammed into you over and over. Yeah, it hurt, but it also felt so damned good. Your slick dripped down your thighs, his slippery cock holding you wide open for Hotch and Luke to see. 

You whined loudly, yelping each time he hit a deeper spot, one that made you nearly black out. This was so taboo, and Spencer didn't even know just how much. He just thought he was using some random girl in a sex club, but if he knew… maybe they'd all use you at the same time. 

The thought consumed you, and before you knew it, one of the fastest orgasms you'd ever had blasted through your body. Your eyes rolled back, body arching to take even more from his leaking cock. Your walls clamped down around Spencer Reid's dick, body shuddering violently as it took you over. 

"There you go! Look at that drippy pussy," Luke called happily, toasting him with his wine glass. "Fuck that whore, Reid. Use her up."

Spencer panted behind you, his jaw dropped open as he watched his cock disappear and reappear from your stretched hole. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes transfixed on the sight before him. Your body went limp as your orgasm waned, and you watched with bleary eyes as he bit his bottom lip and thrusted deep inside you one last time. 

Cum hit your cervix, sticky and hot and oh so good. Spencer moaned breathily as he emptied himself inside you, shuddering with each thrust until he was spent. 

Hotch stood as he slowed, and when he was done he simply grabbed Spencer by the shoulder and guided him back to the lounge chair. Spencer collapsed into the leather seat, his softening cock glistening in the dim lighting as he caught his breath. 

With that cigar hanging out of his mouth, Hotch unzipped his pants and brushed his thick cock against your folds. They were slick with cum and your own juices, and he let out a soft groan as he grinded against you. 

"Leaky little slut," he murmured, half to himself with glassy eyes. Hotch slapped your ass even harder than before, earning a sharp cry from you. "Let's put this hole to good use."

Stretched and open, he had no problem shoving himself inside. It was strange, as it always was, to have one cock leave you and another enter almost immediately. Hotch was thicker than Spencer, but a little shorter. That familiar burning stretch made you moan deep from your chest.

"You like being used, don't you? What a fucking good for nothing cocksleeve," he said, taking a puff off the cigar. Smoke filled the room, the heady scent of sex and sweat filling up the empty spaces. 

You watched through the mirror as Spencer and Luke watched Hotch. Luke unzipped and pulled himself from his pants, lightly palming his own length as Hotch toyed with your open cunt. His thrusts were shallow, but you knew from experience he was ramping up to something. 

His hand came down so hard on your hip you nearly screeched. Your body shook with the force, but he just laughed cruelly. "Disgusting slut. By the end of the night, you won't be able to walk."

His grip was fierce, fingertips bruising your skin as he stared to fuck you. Hotch was brutal, slamming his hips against the backsides of your thighs and ass roughly. He even pinched and flicked you, grunting deep and grinding hard. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks, but you loved it. He used you like you were nothing, just a toy to be played with. You were sure that if you weren't in the wall, he'd be holding you down by the back of your neck and holding your arms behind your back. "Fuck, daddy!"

It came from nowhere, that word, but it seemed appropriate. Luke let out a moan as he palmed himself, Spencer growing hard again as he watched, transfixed, as Hotch brutalized your cunt. 

"That's right, you little bitch," he grunted, his hips slapping against your skin lewdly in the small room. "Take it like the fucktoy you are!"

Your cries and whines echoed loudly, your dripping pussy soaking down to your ankles. It was so much. The heat, the smoke, the brutal fashion in which he fucked you like a madman. You couldn't help it when another orgasm shattered your mind. 

You squirted over his cock, drenching the front of his pants as you screamed in pleasure. Hotch braced himself against the wall, nearly tearing you in two with each snap of his godly hips. 

Your body shook again as you spotted Spencer fucking his own hand, Luke's jaw dropped down as he watched your juices flow from your split hole. It was perfect, brutal and beautiful in its own way, and the memory was all yours. 

Hotch came with a guttural snarl, slamming his head so deep inside you were sure you split in two. His cum spurted into your womb, filling you and pushing Spencer’s further inside. Tears dripped down your face as you gasped, that full feeling nearly making your belly hurt. 

He took a deep breath before pulling out, and both their cum oozed out of your pussy. It globbed down your thigh, running down until it slipped into your stiletto. You watched hazily as he went and sat down on a chair, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head, looking quite satisfied with his pants hanging open and his cock out. 

Luke slapped his hands together, eagerly jumping from his seat. "Looks like it's my turn! Let's see, let's see…"

He went to the small table with toys and lube, twinkling his fingers above them as he decided which to grab. Your eyes went wide as he picked up a thick dildo with straps and some lube. He twirled it in his hand at the boys before turning to you. 

You couldn't help but moan as you watched him drag the tip of it across your folds, gathering up slick and cum. You nearly went cross eyed when he brought it to his mouth and licked it off with a pretty pink tongue. 

Luke tapped your cunt with the flat of his fingers lightly, just enough to make you jump. Your cunt trembled, wondering just what he was going to do with it. He had a devilish glint in his dark eyes, watching you clench around nothing. 

"Let's see what this tight little body can take, huh?" Luke mused as he inspected you.  

He dropped to his knees and licked a thick stripe up the back of your thigh, gathering up Hotch's and Spencer's cum before swallowing it. You let out a shuddering moan at the sight, his hot spit cooling quickly on your skin. 

His tongue trailed up until it reached your pussy, and he delved his tongue deep inside, making you hold onto the cushion for dear life on the other side of the wall. Your whines grew steadily louder as he ate you out, flicking your clit over and over. 

Hotch watched with a smirk as Spencer’s eyes glazed over. It was deliciously sinful to see, but just as you were about to teeter over the edge again Luke pulled back. 

"Calm down," he shushed when you whined pitifully. "You'll be all filled up in a second, sweetheart."

He lightly bit your ass cheek before focusing back on the toy. It was thicker than any of them, heavy and made of silicone. Your legs spread wider on instinct as he dragged it up your thigh. You ached with anticipation, still unsure of what he had planned until he looped one of the straps around your ankle. 

Looping the other, Luke slid the brace up your thighs, angling the dildo to your entrance. He pumped you with it, easing it inside until it filled you. Your walls clenched around it, a filthy squelching sound echoing around the room as it bottomed out. 

Making sure it was firmly inside, Luke tightened the straps, keeping the dildo in place. It was so thick, holding you wide open to do nothing but clench around it. He went to the table next and grabbed some lube, then squirted it around his fingers. 

"We'll go nice and easy," he said as he got to his feet. 

His fingers rimmed your exposed asshole, slippery and hot. You did your best to remember to relax, but even his fingers were thick, probing gently into the ring of muscle until you let go. His fingertip breached you, and you moaned with your jaw dropped as he pumped you slowly. 

"That's right," he cooed. He pushed in to the knuckle, curling just enough to make you clench around him and the toy. "Take it like the whore you are, sweetheart. We're gonna fill you up nice and pretty."

Luke spread your hole with his finger until he was satisfied, adding another. He turned to the chairs, spotting Spencer. "Get over here, Reid."

Spencer got quickly to his feet, nearly tripping over himself to meet Luke's command. Luke put him between you both after he stretched you open, and you squirmed in excitement at what was coming next. 

Luke pulled down Spencer’s pants until he could kick them off, leaving him in nothing but his shirt and socks. Luke undid the buttons and tossed it aside, then grabbed the lube bottle again. 

He pressed himself against Spencer, who in turn pressed his own cock against your wet and open hole. All you wanted was to be fucked, but when you spotted Luke depositing some lube into Spencer's hand all you could do was watch. 

"Spread it over your cock," he whispered in Spencer's ear. "This is what you wanted, right? To be in the middle?"

Your pussy clenched so hard around the dildo that if it wasn't strapped in you were sure it would have rocketed across the room. Spencer nodded shyly, but Luke just smacked his ass. 

"Right?" he asked again, sharper this time. "You said, 'I want to try being with a man and a woman at the same time.' I'm giving you what you want, okay? I'm gonna take care of you."

"Right," Spencer gulped, nodding emphatically. He did as Luke told him, coating his dick with the lube as Luke spread more over his own fingers. 

"Fuck her in the ass, Spence," Luke murmured, pressing a kiss behind his neck. "It's what she wants, man. Look at her. Dripping with cum and filled to the brim, and all she wants is more."

You wiggled your ass just to prove his point, pushing down on the green button as well. Spencer nodded again, pressing the blunt head of his cock against your exposed hole. Luke held onto his hips as he pushed inside, making sure he didn't jerk forward too quickly and hurt you. 

You and Spencer both moaned loudly as he pumped himself inside. It burned, hot and painful and so wonderful. With your cunt filled with thick silicone and Spencer’s beautiful cock pushing inside, you almost came again. You were so full, so blissed and fucked out as he used you like a toy. 

"So fucking tight," Spencer groaned as he bottomed out. He grinded deep, your back arching to take more of him. "I wanna live here. This body… goddamn."

"That's right, man," Luke murmured. He pushed Spencer against the wall, pushing hard against you. You moaned and tried to wiggle, but you were trapped there. "She's gonna be your little slut to use, and you're going to be mine."

Your brows raised at that, and you watched the mirror with a fierce intensity as Luke put a hand between Spencer's shoulders. His hand disappeared between them, but Spencer moaned wantonly and grinded deeper in you. You whined pitifully with the lack of friction where you needed it most, but you knew what Luke was going to do before he did it. 

You watched him wipe off his hand, then look down at his crotch. Spencer's dick twitched and bobbed inside you as he grunted, his jaw tightening, but Hotch spoke up from where he palmed himself in his chair. 

"Relax, Reid," he said softly, encouragingly. "Do what this whore does. Just take it."

Spencer relaxed a bit, but not enough, so you grinded back onto him. You rolled your hips the best you could in this position, rocking back on his cock. He mimicked you, doing the same and rolling in between your asshole and Luke's member. His jaw dropped and his eyes fluttered shut, and you had him right where you wanted. 

With Spencer's hands on your hips, Luke braced himself with one on Spencer's own and the other on the wall. He started slow, quickly picking up his pace, and Spencer followed. His cock bounced inside you, ramming you into the wall, but you let out every moan and whine you could, crying out with each thrust. 

"Fuck, this is a good little hole, Hotch," Luke grunted, his face screwed up on concentration. "We don't even need the girl. We can just use Spencer!"

"Oh, we can find a good use for them both," Hotch replied, getting to his feet. He picked a vibrator off the table, angling it between your dripping pussy and turned it on. 

The vibrations hit you like an earthquake. You were so full and being touched by them both, and watching Spencer come apart from Luke fucking him like a beast was almost too much too soon. 

"Oh god, oh god," Spencer panted, his cheeks bright red. Your pussy clenched around the dildo, your other hole tightening around his cock at the sound. The vibrator was driving you mad, and when Hotch slapped your ass with his free hand you cried out. 

"Thank you!" you screamed, drool dripping down your chin. You were so hot, and the room filled with hazy lust and grunting. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" 

"Go on, Spencer. You hear that?" Hotch growled lowly. "Give it to her. Fuck that hole. It's just a fleshlight."

Spencer nodded, his head bobbing up and down, "It's a good hole. A good fucking toy… oh fuck, I wanna destroy this little hole for anyone else!" 

Luke bit his bottom lip as he rammed Spencer from behind, thrusting him deeper inside you. Spencer exploded without warning, hot sticky cum flooding your ass as Hotch slapped your cheek again even harder. The vibrations rocketed through you, your whole body arching and spasming with Spencer as he rode his high. 

You vaguely heard Luke cum, felt the way Spencer’s hips jerked forward as your ears rang with bliss. Spencer cried out and moaned with each new thrust, clinging to your hips with everything he had. 

After that, they all used you. For hours, it seemed, they fucked both holes over and over, taking turns. They ate you out, stuffed you with toys and their cocks, used vibrators on you. All until you were a weak drooling mess lying limply on the table. 

They took a break, catching their breaths and taking sips of some gatorade to recharge. Your body twitched as you lay useless, soft moans and whines escaping you. You couldn't really do anything else but lay there, so full of cum and drenched with it where they sometimes pulled out and came on your back and ass. 

"I think I have one more in me," Luke decided, and Hotch nodded in agreement. Spencer lay slumped against Hotch, who rubbed his fingertips lightly up his arms as he caught his breath. "Wanna have some fun with it?"

He pointed at you, and your body clenched in excitement. One more was about all you had as well. After cumming so many times at once you knew it would take you some time to lay there and recover, but you wanted one last memory to keep with you. 

Luke got shakily to his feet, running a light hand over your cum-covered thigh. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, "What do you say you come on out of there, sweetheart? Take us all at once before we head home for the night?"

Your heart pounded at the thought, but you hesitated. What if they saw you and decided they didn't want you?

"We'll take good care of you. I promise," Luke offered. "We'll clean you up before we go and everything. Give you the aftercare you deserve after all you did for us."

"Oh, I wanna do that," Spencer agreed, getting up from the couch. Hotch followed him, and Spencer came up to lean against the wall, rubbing one knuckle across your backside. "Let us take care of you, huh? I don't know if you heard, but this is my birthday present."

You bit your lip and grinned. Even if they decided they didn't want you, you knew you'd given Spencer a good birthday celebration. You decided to go with it, as the thought of having all three holes used by all three eligible men in your group was too enticing to pass up. 

You hit the green button, and they shared an excited smile between them. Taking a shaky breath, you unlatched the door and let it swing open. 

Hotch and Luke grabbed your arms gently as you tried and failed to push yourself up to sit. Spencer ran a soothing hand up your back as they turned you around, but the shock that hit their faces when they saw your teary smile was almost too much to handle. 

"Y/N?" Spencer gasped as he recognized you. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are, boys," you replied sultrily, but your voice shook a bit with your exhaustion. "Paying for the privilege."

Luke's dumbfounded look turned into a smirk, and he confidently made his way between your legs, putting his hands on your thighs. His eyes glinted mischievously as he said, "I always knew there was a dirty girl hiding under that blazer."

"Oh my god, do you know what we just did to you?" Spencer marveled, his eyes wide. "Oh, Y/N, I'm so-."

"Don't you dare say sorry, Spencer Reid," you snapped, pointing at him. "I came here to get fucked by any one who walked in the door and it just so happened to be you guys. I don't regret that for a second."

"You don't?" Spencer asked hopefully, and you reached out and cupped his jaw in your hands, doing your best to ignore Luke's creeping fingers up your wet thighs. 

"You don't even know how many times I've thought about you, baby. I can't even count how many times I've cum on my own fingers thinking about you guys."

Spencer smiled happily, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Hotch knocked his knuckle on the board of your green light list, "Everything on here, that's what you're comfortable with?"

It was the first time he'd spoken, his dark eyes watching you intently as you turned back to him. All four of you were naked as the day you were born, and he looked good with that fuzzy chest and his hard cock bobbing in front of you. 

You nodded, reaching out to palm him. His dick was slippery from your juices and lube, letting you glide easily over him. Hotch was never one to give anything away, but he smiled down at you, pressing one knuckle under your jaw. 

He kissed you then, hard enough to bruise. Always so calm and collected, he really let himself out in bed. He pulled back, but not before nipping your bottom lip and making you moan. 

His hand flashed out in a second, dragging you by your throat onto the ground. You let out a surprised yelp but your sloppy cunt squelched loudly as you clenched. He shoved you onto your knees, looking down at you so imposing and strong. 

He held his dick by the base, "Open your mouth, then, whore."

You did as you were told, sticking out your tongue. You put your hands on your knees and arched your back, and he quickly gripped you by the hair and shoved his cock down your throat. 

He was relentless, ramming himself deep as Luke and Spencer joined him on either side. They took turns with you, quickly pulling you off one by the hair and shoving you down on another as tears dripped down your cheeks. They called you all sorts of names- whore, bitch, cocksleeve, fucktoy.

Hotch pulled you off one last time, leaving you gasping for air and your throat bruised. As you collapsed on the ground, he pushed Spencer into a chair, then leaned down and gripped you under your armpits to lift you up like you were nothing but a doll. 

Spencer sat splayed in the seat, his cock glistening with your spit. His chest was patched red as he panted, watching Hotch pick you up. He maneuvered you to sit on your knees, spread wide over Spencer's lap. 

He leaned down and brushed your hair back to whisper in your ear, "It's his birthday present, you dirty little toy. Ride him like the good whore we all know you are."

You couldn't help but giggle excitedly, nodding. Spencer watched you nervously, his hands set gently on your hips. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his to quell some of his anxiety, moaning happily when he relaxed a bit. 

"You gonna cum inside me, Spence?" you asked sweetly as you angled him to your entrance. "Be the last one to fill up this little pussy?"

He nodded emphatically, "Please, it's all I want."

You both groaned as you sank down on him. He filled you up beautifully, so thick and hot. His cock pulsed inside you, already ready to burst. You set your hands on his shoulders and lifted your hips before dropping back down. He was perfect, so sweet as he caressed you. 

Spencer's hands wandered to your tits as you rode him hard, body bouncing and jiggling with each drop. His blunt head bounced off your cervix, stretching you deeper and wider. You felt Hotch come up behind you, his hands gripping your waist and squeezing appreciatively as Luke approached from the side. 

He jerked himself off as he watched you, eyes glassy. Hotch smacked your ass a few times, making your hips jerk and twitch as you moaned. 

"Oh fuck," you gasped, body coiling for what felt like the thousandth time that night. "Fuck, Spence, you feel so good…"

"Yeah?" he asked coyly, cupping your jaw with one hand. The other pinched your nipples, swiping a soothing thumb across before switching back to the other. "This is how you like it? Being groped and touched and fucked by a bunch of strange guys?"

"I love it!" your voice hitched, eyes rolling back. You felt Hotch line himself up to your gaping hole, his knee braced on the chair. 

Your head rocked back as he breached you, so stuffed full and plugged. Cum streaked across your skin from them using you all night, and you let out a high pitched moan as he fucked you from behind. 

Their cocks moved in time, one sliding out as the other slid back in. It was all so much, so gratifying and dirty. All your moans and grunts echoed around the room as they fucked you, and Spencer quickly gripped you by the hair and pulled you down for a kiss. 

Hotch slapped your ass again, and you knew tomorrow you'd have bruises staining your skin. Spencer's tongue plunged down your throat, drinking in the taste of their cocks on your spit. He moaned into you, and all you could do was kneel there with your back arched as they used you like a doll.

"That's right, take it all," Luke marveled, and you had to pull away from Spencer. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, leaning over for him. Luke shoved his cock into your open hole, grinding deep in your throat before fucking you in time with the other men. 

Spencer moved your head by your hair, pushing you down on Luke's thick length over and over as their cocks pumped in and out of you. You were completely stuffed, body locked in this position. Fluids dripped down your thighs, drool leaking out of the sides of your lips and down your chin. 

Your brain was completely fuzzy, desperate moans reverberating around Luke's cock. He pulled out quickly, his hand slapping your cheek and making you cry out. Spencer let go of your hair to pinch and slap your tits over and over, red welts breaking out across your skin. 

Hotch joined in, "You like that, you dirty cumdump?" 

"Yeah she does," Luke agreed. He slapped you again, hard enough to rock your head to the side. Then he tangled his fingers in your hair and shoved his length down your throat again before you could answer. "Look at her, covered in cum… this is how she should be. We should tie her up in the jet and just use her every case. She doesn't even need to work. She's useless except for this."

You moaned and nodded, tears streaming down your face as he fucked your mouth roughly. You relaxed your throat and opened your jaw as wide as you could, letting him facefuck you as Hotch and Spencer rammed your other holes. 

"What a good toy you are," Spencer grunted. His hips pistoned up into you, slamming into your cervix so hard you saw stars. Your body clenched up, starting to shake, and Spencer laughed and pinched your tits harder. "Look at her, she's gonna cum."

You nodded weakly as they used you, and when Hotch suddenly grabbed your arms and twisted them behind your back your whole body jerked in primal response. The stretch in your shoulders burned, and he held you up by your wrists as Luke held you up by your hair. 

They had you trapped, and if you wanted to move you couldn't. Their tight hold on you cut off circulation, your slippery cunt leaking at the sensations of it all. Luke pulled out and slapped your cheek again, but all you could do was groan happily. 

"Oh thank you!" you cried out as they rammed every hole you had. Luke jerked himself off in front of your face, his cock twitching as he was about to burst. "Thank you for fucking me like this! Fuck, fuck, just wanna be a hole for you to use… just wanna be filled with cum!"

Luke groaned, cum spurting from his head. You stuck out your tongue as it landed on your cheeks and chin, trying to get as much of it as you could in your mouth. Hotch and Spencer fucked you relentlessly even as Luke waned, but he pulled you close and shoved his dick back in your mouth. 

"Clean it off, slut," he panted, hips twitching at the overstimulation. You laved your tongue over it, licking up every bit of yourself and his cum you could. 

Spencer pinched your tits so hard you began to cry, but you didn't stop and neither did they. Hotch's nails dug into your wrists as he thrust one last time deep inside. His hot cum spurted into your asshole, shoving so far in  you were sure your whole body was rearranged. 

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," he gasped, his body shuddering with the effort. "You good little fuck…"

Spencer tugged you off of Luke, not caring at all that your face was covered with another man's cum. He licked your cheeks and chin, tasting it and moaning as Hotch pulled out. You felt his spend leak from your gaping hole, but Spencer was relentless. He never stopped, instead plunging his tongue down your throat again.

Hotch and Luke caught their breaths as you made out with Spencer. Your hands were released, and you rode him like a madman as he fucked up into you. Your body clenched, beginning to tremble and strain from the effort as Spencer pulled back and put his forehead against yours. 

"You gonna cum?" he asked darkly, his sweet eyes meeting your teary ones. "You gonna cum just for me?"

You nodded pathetically, so needy and exhausted. "Wanna cum, Spencer, please!"

"Yeah?" He mocked your teary expression, and his hand came down sharply on your bruised asscheek. You yelped, sobbing as you nodded again. "You're so stuffed and fucked out… this hole is all stretched. Maybe I should go find a few other guys to help me fill it up."

You shook your head as you cried, "No, please. Just you, just need you Spence! Want you to be the last one to fill me up… just want you to make me cum… please!"

Spencer grinned, tugging you back for a sloppy kiss. It was all teeth and tongue. Your fingernails drug down his back as he caressed your body. He held you so tight and close, ramming his cock deep. 

Your eyes rolled back, body trembling violently as you came harder than ever. Your vision blacked out as pure ecstasy rocketed through you. You squirted over his lap, the filthy sounds of slapping skin and squelching taking over the room. 

Spencer called out your name as he came, moaning against your lips and holding you so close you were sure you became one. You went limp in his arms as he finished, spent and used and covered in cum and bruises. 

Spencer collapsed against the back of the chair, panting and trying to catch his breath. "Jesus Christ, Y/N… holy shit."

You couldn't speak or move. Your mind didn't have the capacity to do anything anymore. After a while, you felt someone lift you. You were laid down on the couch with your head in Spencer's lap. Hotch sat down by your legs, rubbing your feet as Luke knelt on the floor with one of the cleaning rags they left in every room. 

Luke cleaned you while they caressed you. Spencer brushed back your hair, lightly running his knuckles over your face as you struggled to come back to earth. Hotch massaged your feet and legs, warming them back up after they locked into soreness. 

"Mmm," you groaned, smacking your lips as you finally came to. They all sat around you, gently touching and giving you praise. 

"Such a good girl," Luke murmured. He was rubbing cooling gel over your bruised breasts, massaging it in gently. "You were perfect, sweetheart."

"Best ass this side of the Mississippi," Hotch agreed, making you smile. 

You glanced up at Spencer, who was watching you with those sweet eyes of his. He pushed back your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. "You're amazing, you know that?"

You couldn't do anything but grin. Hotch lightly tapped your thigh, "You're alive, right?"

"Mhmmm," you groaned, but that was all you could say. 

They waited until you could move again before dressing you and then themselves. Spencer picked you up and settled you on his hip, your head dropping onto his shoulder as you started to fall asleep. 

You vaguely registered him saying he would take you home. He carried you through the club and put you in his car, both Hotch and Luke giving you a kiss goodnight. 

He talked to you the whole way home, but you were pretty out of it, slumped down in the seat and fucked into blissful semiconsciousness. Your whole body was sore, but it was amazing. You'd never felt this content and satisfied. 

He got your keys out of your purse and brought you up to your apartment, rubbing a soft hand up and down your back as he spoke praises and sweet words to you. Your heart opened up each time he did, so safe and warm in his arms. 

Spencer set you down gently on your bed. He eased your clothes off and set your shoes neatly on the floor. He even folded them for you, setting them on a chair in the corner. He tucked you in, sitting on the covers next to you. 

Spencer sighed and brushed back some of your hair as you lay cozy under the covers. He gave you a soft smile, "I'll check on you in the morning, okay? Then we'll go get your car."

"Mm okay," you murmured back, hardly able to keep your eyes opened. 

Sure you had all those dirty thoughts about the people on your team, but the sweet ones you reserved for Spencer. He was so kind and warm to be around, while the filthy sex you'd just had with him was a fantasy of yours, having him tuck you into bed as a dream come true. 

Spencer leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and tried to commit it to memory, to burn it into your mind forever. When he pulled away, your arm broke free of the blanket cocoon and gripped his wrist. 

"Do you… do you maybe wanna stay?" you asked quietly, hopefully. 

Spencer watched you with wide eyes, but it quickly turned into one of those beautiful smiles of his. 

"Of course I do."

You grinned like a maniac as he toed off his shoes, then took off his clothes. Red lines littered his back from where you scratched him, marking him as yours. 

Spencer slid under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around and pulling you to his chest. You pressed your nose into his neck, and he rubbed his thumb against your spine as you lay there, safe and happy. 

"Y/N?" Spencer asked softly into the darkness. 

"Yeah?"

Spencer took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for rejection. He gave you a quick squeeze and in a small voice asked, "Do you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"

You pulled back a bit to look at him, and he was watching you with wide and worried eyes. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled, "Like a date?"

Spencer swallowed thickly, "Yeah, like a date."

You bit your lip and looked away, nerves taking over. "Even after seeing me like that? With… other men? You still want me?"

Spencer laughed breathily, like you were an idiot. He cupped your face with his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You melted into him, letting out a small moan. 

"All I ever wanted was you," he murmured as he pulled away. He held you so delicately. "Before I knew it was you in that wall… I was imagining it was."

You giggled sweetly at his words, kissing him again. You pressed your body against his, and even though you'd been through a lot tonight your pussy was slick as it slid against his hip, your thigh slung over his middle. 

"Oh, no," Spencer scolded you playfully. He shook his head and gave you a serious look. "You may have an unlimited libido, but I couldn't get it up again if you paid me. Plus, you should rest for tomorrow."

You smirked, "You're gonna fuck me tomorrow?"

Spencer grinned back at you, one hand sliding over your bruised ass. He squeezed you tightly, making you hiss in pain and pleasure. 

"Baby, after tomorrow, you won't want to fuck anyone else ever again."

"I already don't. Happy Birthday, Spencer."

Smurph's Masterlist

Notes: Whoo... I got myself ALL worked up writing this <3

@thedancingcostumeyoungadult @muffin-cup @simplyparker @spencerreidsmommy @hotchandspencearedilfs @gspenc @kbakery @nomajdetective @givemeth @hoshihiime @halloween-is-my-nationality @reidselle @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid @dreatine @thebloomingeagle @fortheloveofwonderland @theforgottenwinter @parkerreidnorth @reidselle @randomhoex @scargarcia-magshotchner @stitchwrites @pygmygoat-bicyclehelmet @cle13 @aysixdy @elhotchner @directioner5life @elhotchner @loveeee2134 @preciousbabypeter @la-stuffs @stories-you-wont-hear @hotchlover @fortheloveofwonderland @lokiandhisdagger @bellanutellababyyy @dark-night-sky-99 @straightforbuckybutgayfornatasha @maltamurdock @charelletjee @kansas-reid @zephyrmonkey @spencer-reid-wonderland @spencersprettyslut @im-sure-its-fine @tvdstelenaforever @teddylupintonks  @lilibet261 @kneelforloki @dirtytissuebox @almostgenerallyalways @whovian378 @cl0udyqu33n @thegettingbyp2 @averagestudent03 @the-sun-died-out @squishycalumxo @sebastiansstanswhore 

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

@dottirose @lfaewrites @padsfirewhisky @wheels-upin-thirty @f-me-reid @justanothercmblog @academiareid

[beelmons]

Escapade 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!reader Rating: NSFW, readers under 18 are not advised to read this story. Tags: smut, best friends to lovers, possible angst at some point, porn with plot, mentions of weapons, minor OC appeareances for plot purposes, mentions of death for plot purposes, unprotected sex Summary: The stress of the job can take a toll on one’s mind and body, and as your friend Spencer and you come to realize: there’re many fun ways to cope up with it. Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 / 3: Bonus | 4 | 5 | 6 A/N: This was supposed to be a one shot but people on AO3 asked for continuance and now I have made a very interesting mess. The format used dashes instead of quotations for dialogue since it's more AO3 friendly. Responting so it can appear on spencer tags. Enjoy and let me know what you think. 

The most interesting part of working in the BAU was definitely the bouquet of personalities that the team had to offer. Not one of them was similar to the other, not in how they talked, nor thought or behaved; granted, that happened to be the biggest asset of the unit and what got them through most of the cases they had had so far.

Dynamics were always different, from one member to another, and certainly everybody seemed to fit the best with someone else. Prentiss and JJ, Garcia and Morgan, Rossi and Hotch, everyone but Spencer Reid. Or so he felt, until he met you. Being closer to his age than any other agent around him, he felt a slight relief knowing that you would join as the expert negotiator, finally someone that could relate to the struggles of what youth and inexperience could bring into this high-stress job.

Since social interactions were not really his forte, getting to know him was a bit of a challenge. And yet, it was the easiest part. A man who overshared and couldn’t hide his excitement about certain topics, smart like no other, and easily shaken by the vile nature of many of the subjects he got to study, you could read him like he was a children’s book since the moment you were introduced by Hotchner. Shortly after, and thanks to Morgan’s efforts to nudge the two of you into talking more, you became friends. You enjoyed his nerdy presence around you so much, he was fun in his own way and never ran out of topics of conversation, for obvious reasons. Spencer Reid was your FBI partner and friend, and as hard as it was to admit, you would even consider him your best friend.

Aware of said fact, you couldn’t stop asking yourself why, then, were you in this utility closet, standing with your chest against the wall, barely able to see your partner as he pounded inside you from behind, the waistband of your pants down to the mid of your thighs and feeling the way the fabric of his own brushed against your ass. Spencer leaned back trying to get a better view of his work, even when the darkness of the suffocating room would not allow much vision, his moans reduced to quiet but quick breaths. You missed the heat of his body once he pulled away, having been flush against you seconds before, and you let him know with a whimper. He was quick to emit a “shh” from his lips, knowing that if you got caught it would mean the end of your careers. Feeling him slide in and out of you was blissful, and the thrill of being found out was just adding to the knot forming in your stomach. He felt the twitching of your walls and quickly bent forward again, his clothed chest rubbing against your blouse as he whispered into your ear.

— Hold on — he let out — I’m almost there, too.

The restraint in his voice sent chills down your spine. He was trying his best to keep himself quiet, even when his hips wouldn’t give you a second of rest, you clung to the pores of the wall trying to hold back your climax as you felt his tip hit to the very end of your insides, he kept your lower body still with his fingers, his palms tightly gripping onto your clothes to avoid changing the angle he knew was driving you crazy. It took only a couple more deep thrusts to send you over the edge, you couldn’t help a moan at the feeling of your orgasm, and he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand as soon as he heard your voice start to come out, his free arm wrapped around your waist, pushing your ass further against him as he kept still to release inside you, burying his face into your neck with a low and quiet groan.

Your bodies pulled apart and you gave him a second to dispose of the condom he had previously put on, in the meantime you fixed your clothes and inspected the blazer you had removed and hung from a shelf before the act just to make sure it was not messed up from any cleaning materials. Spencer mimicked your actions and tidied himself up before you finally turned around to check on him and grinned for a bit once you locked eyes.

— You okay? — he inquired.

— Yes, Don Juan — you chuckled at his concern — It was nice. So much for “it was a one-time thing,” huh? — He responded to your question with an awkward, almost uncomfortable, laugh. This was not the first time you had done something like this with Reid and it most likely wouldn’t be the last one. — Okay, doctor, do me. — you said as you stood straight after sliding on your blazer.

— I… — Spencer furrowed his brows in slight confusion — I… think I just did?

— Not that, smart-ass — you snarked back playfully — the profile. Look at my outfit, my expression, my hair, everything that could not match the story that we came up with. Listen, we work with some of the brightest, most observant minds of the FBI, if we don’t cover our backs, they will find out pretty soon about it, so to keep this quiet we need to outsmart them.

— Right, right — he reminded himself of the pact you had made a couple of weeks before. With a prolonged glance he started to examine your body, head, chest, bottom, legs, anything that could give away the fact that he had just had you up against the wall doing your best to not scream his name outright. — Your shirt looks too tidy, if we were out buying coffee, it would have slipped out of the pants a little bit from the walking. It rained yesterday, but the mud of your shoes has already dried up from being inside, so you should probably damp it up in the bathroom, you usually don’t button up your blazer after midday so it would be odd if you just came back with it buttoned up — he made a quick motion with his finger to have you turn around, to which you happily obliged — your hair is slightly messy from the back… hold on. — you thought he was going to fix it himself, but instead you heard him type something into his phone — It’s windy today, so it’s okay that it remains like that.

He grabbed you by the shoulders to gently spin you once again, and his hands ruffled the top of your hair slightly. He retracted his arms once he was satisfied with his work and tensed up for you to examine him next. He looked oddly nervous and avoided eye contact, guess he wasn’t used to being an anatomy skeleton for students to observe. You observed his shoes, pants, shirt, everything on him intently, and you didn’t like to admit you spent a couple milliseconds more on his face than needed. Once you had gotten your verdict you began to talk.

— Even if it rained yesterday, the sun is out, so it’s a little bit hot today, it’s better that you remove your sweater vest, you rarely wear it outside because the heat makes you grumpy, so it wouldn’t make sense to put it on outside.

— I thought about that too but… — he said as he pointed at his shirt — this is way too wrinkled, and I ironed this morning before I came to work, Morgan or Prentiss surely noticed.

— That’ fine. — you said as you continued to observe him — We will drop a bit of coffee on your shirt, which will give you a perfect excuse to not remove the vest. Make sure to drop some on your shoes too and a bit on your pants. Also, your zipper, it’s too far up to the top, once you start walking it slides a little bit because the safety grip gives in slightly. Your hair also… — you reached to ruffle it roughly, to which he responded with an “ouch!” — Sorry, your hair is just always getting too messy with the wind, so we must keep that in character. Also, roll your sleeves up, you do that when you carry coffee trays.

— Wow. — he exclaimed as you helped him roll the shirt as you mentioned — I mean, I knew we observed everyone in the team a lot, but this was pretty impressive.

— Yeah. — you said absentmindedly — Hurry. We’ve been out here for eight minutes, the coffee shop is a four-minute walk, and the delivery boy is already outside the building.

— Right, right.

You stood behind the door as you often did. That was the modus operandi, he would go out to grab the coffee and let you know if the hall was clear, which it almost always was since it was a service hall, and you would go out after his text, often grabbing a cloth that you would claim having gone get it if any of the janitors happened to see you go out. You had everything planned, brilliant minds coming up with brilliant plans to get away with what they needed to do, or rather wanted to do. After sneaking out of the closet you headed to the bathroom. Shirt, shoes, blazer, hair, everything was fixed to the way Spencer had told you.

You met him halfway back to the office and he handed you one of the coffee trays. Morgan’s, Prentiss’s, Rossi’s, none for Hotch, JJ’s with cream, and Garcia’s caramel macchiato, you looked over the orders once again, everything seemed in place, nothing they could read on you that would be out of the ordinary. Steady pace, not too fast not too slow, just two partners walking back into the office.

— Glad you two are back. — Hotch said as soon as you entered the BAU floor — We’re adjusting schedules for the upcoming guest lectures we are meant to give during law enforcement week in DC, they are meant to be given to a group of selected universities.

— Why are you wearing you vest? — Morgan interrupted all of a sudden as he scanned Reid up and down. — It’s like a million degrees outside.

You froze in your place and did your best to not show the panic in your eyes, hoping all the attention would be on him instead of the muscles that had tensed up involuntarily. You looked at Spencer as well, trying to join the questioning look of everyone else. You had told him about the vest, why did he decide to ignore you? You were beginning to spiral into the scenario where Morgan found out and you were kicked to the curb and eventually ended up homeless before a motion from Reid pulled you out. He pulled on the neckline of the vest to awkwardly reveal a huge coffee stain on his right pec. Everyone seemed to either laugh or at least smile at the way he ashamedly pursed his lips. You joined in the teasing as to not arise suspicion, since in any other situation you would do exactly that.

— Don’t worry, Reid, the day will come when you win your endless battle against slippery sidewalks.

— Something fun always happens in your coffee escapades — Emily mentioned.

— Actually, — Reid began to ramble — “escapades” comes from the Spanish “Escapar” which means “to escape from a place or a situation”, and in English it can be translated as “to part into adventure” which implies that the objective of the travel is unknown, “Crusade” is a mission to retrieve something, more specifically the holy grail, that could compare to coffee-

— Reid. — Hotch said firmly when he noticed the rest of the members confusedly staring at the blond doctor.

— Sorry. — he said as he cut himself short, pursing his lips embarrassedly as he used to.

— As I was saying, the lectures that the BAU will be imparting in different universities have to cater to the needs of each student bodies, since we’re looking to recruit future members with them. Look over the files on your desks and propose topics to lecture on before the end of the day so we can start working on the actual content. We will meet later to discuss how we will split to do the tour without spreading our workforce too thin. Get to work.

With a single hand movement, Hotch finished the briefing of the uninteresting task and grabbed the cup that was meant for Rossi, likely to take it to his office since he had shut himself in there working on something unknown. Morgan and Prentiss grabbed theirs too, and JJ mentioned something about bringing Garcia’s to her. Before heading back to your place, and making sure no one else was looking, you leaned back onto Reid’s desk with him resting comfortably against his seat. You looked at each other with a slightly smug smile. It was the first time you had gotten away with it at work, and it had been nothing short to exciting.

— An escapade. Doesn’t sound too shabby. — you said, your lips still curled up. — New code word?

— I do think that “escapade” is a way better code word than “let’s do the thing". It’s not very FBI-y if you ask me. Although, I still have to argue that an escapade has no apparent purpose and it’s just for the thrill of the adventure, as for what we’re doing we clearly have an objective in mind.

— Sure, that’s a good point of view, but also, you never know what’s going to happen in this adventure, and of course won’t be the same every time.

— Well, yeah, but the goal of the adventure doesn’t really change, it’s still to achieve the holy… — he stopped himself, threading carefully over his words, trying not to sound too tacky — the holy grail?

— Well, it certainly felt holy. — you took a sip of your coffee as you spurted those words.

— Hey! — he darted out loudly before lowering his voice. — Someone could hear us.

He stopped you mostly to avoid getting any redder on the face. He would so confidently take you in a utility closet, but being praised for his performance was making him shy? God, you found this man so amusing.

— Whatever, I’m not discussing the etymology of our code word with you. Let’s get to work if we don’t want to end up with boring lectures.

You pushed yourself away from his desk and walked back to yours, just a couple meters from his, to obey the orders you had given yourself. You buried your nose into the files that the boss had left for you, so much that you didn’t notice the way he kept slightly grinning in your direction. He knew he needed to wipe it out soon, or all the planning, sneaking, and stealth would go down the drain. Whatever it happened at work from now on, there was something for certain, you could always look forward to the next escapade.

[lightvixxen]

Kinktober day 7- hunter/prey

finally a longer fic! this one is a little over 1k! This couldddd be classified as CNC but i have other plans for that day >:3

WARNINGS: breeding kink, slight degradation, thats it!

Your lungs burned, your breath coming out in short gasps of air. You couldn’t stop, not with him hot on your trail. You ducked behind a tree, desperately trying to catch your breath. Exhaustion pulled at your limbs, your legs hurt from running and your chest hurt from the way your heart and lungs were pounding against it.

You looked around the woods you were in, trying to find Spencer, he was fast, and surprisingly with his tall stature, good at hiding. You leaned against the tree you were behind, a sigh of relief at your short break, closing your eyes you were finally able to catch your breath. 

Then, you hear a twig snap, your eyes shoot open, looking at your surroundings again, you spot him, the dress shirt and slacks he was wearing harsh against the woods colors. You took off, he was too close, and you weren’t done quite yet. 

Of course, it didn’t take long for him to catch you. You couldn’t have gotten more than a few feet before you were being tackled to the ground. There was a distinctive click of handcuffs before he forced your arms behind your back, cuffing you.

“There, maybe that’ll keep you from running, bunny.” Spencer pants, obviously out of breath from the chase you had given him. You both loved it, this is what you did on his weekends off, drive into a desolate part of the woods and let him chase you into it. Great training as well, double win. 

Spencer dragged his hands down your body, before flipping you over so you were on your back, laying on your hands. 

“You're so pretty like this, bunny…completely at my mercy.” This was the scene, he was a hunter, something akin to a wolf and you were his pretty bunny. 

Spencer undid your jeans, he never lets you wear a skirt or dress during these, mainly because he thinks they slow you down. He pulls them off your body, before pulling your panties down with them and stuffing them into his back pocket. He throws your jeans somewhere in the dirt, before flipping you around again. 

He lifts your hips so you are face down ass up. He smacks your ass once, causing you to yelp and jump slightly, Spencer chuckles behind you. He pulls your pussy lips apart, smirking at the slick that had gathered during the chase. 

“I haven’t done anything to you bunny, and yet you're so wet” he says, watching the way it slowly drips down your pussy, coating the inside of your thighs. 

“Can’t help it…” You whimpered, moaning when Spencer leans down to blow on your cunt, before licking a stripe against your hole. 

“I know, baby, just can’t wait to be used, hm?” Spencer asks, sitting up onto his knees, He unbuckles his belt, you shiver at the metallic jingling, knowing what was to come. 

You nodded, wiggling your hips to emphasize how much you needed him. Spencer places one hand on your hip, bracing himself, and with the other he lined himself up with your hole, pushing into you. 

A low moan falls from your lips, Spencer was big, not necessarily in girth but in length, he was tall and skinny, which was a pattern his cock kept. It took everything in you from rocking your hips back and taking him all in, you really didn’t need the punishment that follows it. 

It didn’t take long before Spencer was completely bottomed out, his cock completely sheathed in your cunt. 

“Spence!” you moaned, you were so fucking full and he wasn’t moving, but you could feel his eyes on you, watching where your bodies connected.

“Patience, bunny, we’ve talked about this.”  He scolds you, before he finally starts moving. The pace was slow but deep, enough to pull softs moans that were like music to his ears from your throat. He kept the pace like that for a while, letting your body get used to the pleasure of him being in you. 

Spencer grabbed onto your hips with both hands before he finally became rough. Which of course had your soft moans turning into loud moans and whines, his hands dug into your hips, which you knew were going to leave bruises later. 

His cock was hitting that spot deep in you, you were seeing stars, your brain becoming mush with pleasure. 

“Sir! Oh my god, yes! Yes! Just like that please!” you begged, your eyes rolling back into your head, you were approaching your climax, and fast. 

“Yeah? You gettin close bunny? Gonna cum on my cock?” He asks you, fucking into you at a brual pace. 

“Yes! Can I? Pleasepleaseplease sir! Please!” you begged him, hoping he would let you cum instead of denying you. 

“You can, Bunny, just don’t complain when you get overstimulated.” He tells you, his own moans falling from his mouth, you knew he was close aswell, Spencer mainly got vocal when his own orgasm was close. 

You nodded, a few mintues later white hot pleasure ripped through your body and your vision went black for a few seconds, and your cunt clenched around Spencers cock, sucking him in, your body begging for him to cum inside of you. 

“Good girl, good- Fuck- I’m close, want me to cum in you, bunny? Breed you like the whore you are?” Spencer asks, leaning down so his mouth was next to your ear. 

“Fuck- Yes- yes, Please, cum in me Spencer!” Specer moans loudly, thrusting into you a few more times, before thrusting all the way in you, the base of his cock against your lips, unloading his cum deep in you. You moaned, feeling him coat your inner walls. 

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your labored breathing, a sheen of sweat covering you both. Spencer pulled out of you, causing you to wince slightly from overstimulation. Spencer pulled your lips apart again, watching his cum drip out of you. Collecting it with his fingers he pushes it back into you, causing you to whine. 

“Can’t waste any.” He tells you, before unlocking the handcuffs and pulling you down to lay with him on the dirt floor. 

“Are you okay? I didn’t go too rough did I?” He asks you, worridly, It was weird how Spencer could go from a dominant man, hellbent on getting you to scream, to the sweetest guy on the planet. 

“I’m fine, I’ll just be a little sore for the next day or two.” you tell him, resting your head on his chest. 

“Good” He smiles, kissing your head.

[motherjoel]

masterlist

all my work in one cute little place :)

fluff = <3

angst = :O

smut = ;)

spencer reid, criminal minds

hostile <3 :O

hot cocoa <3

ugly christmas sweaters <3

tall doofus <3

birthday gift <3

stupid genius <3 :O

get her <3 :O

shameless <3 :O

from heaven above <3

technicalities <3

cup of sugar <3

you like me <3

in case <3

last cup of coffee <3 :O

fine line series: part one, part two, part three

joel miller, the last of us

something special <3 part two <3 ;)

arms tonite <3 :O

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[xsimbaaa]

This scene makes me feral…

The watch, the jaw, the wrist flick, the VEST….🤤

[tinystarbites]

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

read pt.II here

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Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has.  “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

------------------------------

Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

------------------------------

You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school. 

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

------------------------------

He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just- 

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

pt. II? 👀

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Dinner Time

Summary: Reader makes Spencer his first homemade dinner after getting out of prison, and they both realize he's got some adjusting to do.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Content warnings: Eating, mentions of weight loss, hurt Spencer, ambiguous ending

Word count: 1k

Spencer sat at the small table in your kitchen. You set it up with funky-patterned napkins, an extra big spoon, and a used candle lit in the middle; the whole shebang. You prepared his serving of your vegetable soup, the meal he requested to celebrate his arrival home. “Are you comfortable?” You ask as you hover over the stove.

He nods and picks up his napkin, observing the pattern and weight. “Where did you get these?”

“Your mom found them when we were shopping. She said they reminded her of your socks. Isn’t that sweet?”

He blew air through his nose before saying “Wow.” He rubbed his thumb along it, following the vivid stripes. You didn’t want to tell him how she teared up when she spotted them. How she held the set close to her chest made you feel sorry that she remembered without help.

“She took it as a sign you were coming home.” Half true. More like you convinced her it was. She asked you to buy them for that reason, to celebrate. “And now here we are.” You beamed as you say the words.

“That’s wonderful.” He looked up at you and smiled. You saw it in your peripheral as you opened a pack of oyster crackers. You knew he wanted to thank you for making time for her. He wanted to, but you insisted the thank yous were enough after he said it the fifth time in 24 hours. You flashed him a brief grin as a muted response, and he appreciated it.

“Alright,” You held the bowl carefully, mistakenly filling it to the brim. Due to the sheer joy of having him home, safe, and innocent (in the eyes of the law), you almost didn’t notice he had lost weight. The first time you saw his spine after getting out of the shower, you didn't even think it was possible for him. “Extra potatoes, per your request, mon amour.” You emphasize your terrible French accent which makes him chuckle.

“Merci, mon amour.” His flawless accent almost ruined the joke.

“Okay, show off, so happy you're home.” You sneered, and his smile was even wider. You grab your own bowl and sit by his side. His elbows somehow naturally find their way to the table, boxing in his soup like he was cornering prey. Spoon in hand, he dipped in the hefty bowl. Then he shoveled in some of those extra potato chunks with some tomato-y broth. Hungry, you thought, as he leaned over the bowl, steam gliding over his rough stubble. He took a second and third bite, despite his mouth being nearly stuffed.

You didn’t say anything at first. You didn’t want to imagine the food he had to eat or meals he might have skipped because of poor quality (or other reasons). As he chewed hastily, for a moment, it gave you hope he'd gain weight quickly.

But then he reached out for his water to drink like he needed to soothe something too spicy.

Or something too hot.

“Honey?”

Bite four, five, and six. He chewed.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?” Bite seven, eight —

You put a hand on his arm and Spencer’s head immediately turned to you. It made you pull back, not touch him. His face was red and his mouth hung open, similar to a dog sticking its tongue out to cool off. “Spencer. You can let it cool.”

He swallowed, not chewing enough, and it pained him. “I can’t. I want to finish before bed.” His tongue barely touched the roof of his mouth as he spoke.

“Are you that tired?”

“No.” His eyebrows furrowed at the question, looking just as confused as you. “We only have 30 minutes for dinn—” And somehow his face of realization was even more upsetting to witness. There's a silence, brief but heavy as his whole face fell and he covered his eyes with one hand. “I’m sorry.” He sniffles.

“It’s not your fault.”

"I'll… take my time." He leans on his elbow and looks down at his meal, staring, waiting for the steam to stop. It was seconds later that his eyes were lined with tears again.

You were afraid to ask the question. “How’s your mouth?”

“It hurts.” He bites his lip as tears trickle.

You drop your spoon and scoot your chair closer to his. You ask him to sit up straight and drink water. Once he’s done that, drinking as much (or as little) as he can tolerate, you gently press his face into your shoulder. Tears collect on your skin, but you keep him close and encourage him to let it out.

And he does. His chest caves with every sob he's locked away for two months. His arms wrap around your waist, the first time he's touched you since he’s been home, apart from the delightfully suffocating hug you trapped each other in when he was released. And for a moment, you’re hit with the reality that the Spencer you’re holding has changed. His survival instincts are still active, you're just now noticing it.

You still hold him as he heaves. You rub his back to let him know you’re still here, but you stare at the blank wall in front of you. Your head is spinning, running through therapists to call and books to read that could help you. To help Spencer. Because that’s what he needs.

Spencer pulls away for a minute to look over his soup.

“It’s still there.” You say, and wipe his tears with your thumbs. “No one’s taking it, I promise.”

“It’s going to get cold.”

“I’ll heat it up again, don’t worry.”

Spencer looks down at you as you hold his face. The dark circles around his reddened eyes were prominent, and you brushed the mess of curls off his forehead. Tiredness isn’t enough. He’s scared. From what he’s seen or become, you don’t know. But his stubble pokes your skin and you realize that you don’t know what to do. As you look at the man you love, you wonder how much you can do to help. You hope you can help.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Liqueur of You (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer goes down on Reader for the first time.

Request: Spencer gives fem!reader oral sex for the first time and she finishes really quickly 🤭 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), fingering Word Count: 1k

Spencer Reid is nothing if not a persistent lover; a scientist hellbent on studying any evidence of the divine written on your skin. His hands would gently caress every inch of your body, carefully detailing how you shivered or squirmed from his touch.

Spencer is an earnest, clever boy who wants nothing less than all of you. Even as he’s kissing you, his hands are finding new ways to worship you. He slips one past the waistband of your underwear and nearly moans at the mess he finds.

Slowly, he drags a single digit through the honeyed wetness that had gathered between your folds. His finger teases at the entrance but doesn’t go any further.

You whimper. You can feel his skin grow rough with goosebumps, but he doesn’t slow down. He runs his tongue along the column of your throat, and he can feel how it trembles as you beg him.

“Spencer, please.”

“You taste so good,” he groans before suckling at your pulse point.

Your body feels like it’s on fire. Everywhere he’s touching you is somehow too much and not enough.

“Please,” you keen again.

He listens this time. You soak in the anticipation of his touch only to feel the ultimate disappointment of its withdrawal.

Spencer’s fingers are practically dripping with your essence as he lifts them to his face. At first, you look at his hand as he inspects the evidence of your desire. But then you look at him. You gaze into brown irises set ablaze and watch how they change the second he places two soaked fingers on his tongue.

He moans as he savors the taste of you. His hips buck forward. He presses his erection hard against your hip. You almost wonder if he could get off just like that.

When he finishes cleaning his fingers, though, he returns to his worship with renewed vigor.

It’s the same as it always is, until it isn’t. The kisses he’s pressing against your breasts begin trailing south. For a moment, you are unsure. But then his tongue swirls at a point just beneath your belly button.

You suck in a sharp breath. He can feel the muscles in your stomach roll as they tense. He doesn’t stop. He keeps going, lower, and lower until he can feel the heat through flimsy cotton.

Spencer is careful as he helps remove your underwear. You wonder if you should tell him the truth—that you’ve never done this part before. That you’re worried and unsure about whether it’ll work the way he wants it to.

“Spencer,” you start with a sobering tone, “I’ve… I’ve never…”

“I know,” he says simply as he lifts one of your legs from the bed. “It’s horribly unfair.”

It’s shaking as he guides it over his shoulder. His lips curl into a cheeky smirk that makes your heart beat even harder.

Despite the twitches and trembling, Spencer senses no resistance; your legs practically fall open for him.

That creeping insecurity begins to resurface, but it is assuaged by Spencer laying tender kisses against your inner thigh.

“This is going to be easy, sweetheart,” he whispers against your skin, “just lie back and look pretty.”

“But…” you whine.

“Good girl,” he answers.

Then, before you can offer any other protest, you feel the heat of his tongue as it slides between your folds. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by his new form of worship. There is no hesitancy as he laps at the liqueur of you.

Your hands thread through his hair and grab hold of him like he is the only thing keeping you tethered. You pull, gently at first.

Spencer’s nails dig into the pliable skin of your thigh. While your legs apply crushing force to try and bring him closer, he remains adamant in holding you exactly where he wants you.

While his tongue toys at your entrance, seemingly savoring each drop from a never-ending pool of desire, you are left dumb and defenseless. Whimpers flow from your lips. Your whole body is trembling, but you try your hardest to heed his orders.

You hold yourself back… until Spencer decides that your shyness, while endearing, just won’t do.

You try to keep track of his hands as they stray from their place. Your legs close against his ears, and you can feel his moans as they reverberate through you.

One of Spencer’s hands joined his tongue before replacing it entirely. You feel the tension building in your stomach at the same time another hand presses hard against the midpoint between your hips.

Just as two lithe fingers press into you, his tongue presses flat against the pearl at your crest.

Immediately, the ever-growing euphoria comes to a breaking point. You choke on a scream, but still manage to sob as every muscle in your body tenses. Your heels dig into his shoulder blades and your thighs quiver as they close around his head.

Spencer seems unfazed. Instead of stopping, like you’d expected him to, he closes his lips around that sensitive nub and continues. Without air, he suckles your clit like it could sustain him all the same.

He pays no mind to the way you are falling apart. His fingers pump into pulsing muscles and he continues to hum sounds of pleasure against you. He doesn’t stop until your body falls limp.

It is then that he pulls away, ever-so-slightly. His touch becomes gentle and less insistent. Eventually, he sighs against heated skin. The contrast makes you shiver.

“That was…” you start, but he stops you.

“I’m not finished yet,” he mumbles against the newly soaked skin between your legs.

He looks up at you with a wicked grin reflected in his eyes. His hair is knotted around your fingers and his face glistens with the mess you’ve made.

It isn’t enough for him. Lazily, he kisses every inch of you that he can reach before he draws his tongue through your folds. He makes a point to circle your most sensitive point once more before he speaks again.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

(Tell me what you thought about this piece here!)

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[fandom-alley]

Sun Kissing

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. 

“Anything for you, my love.”

Thank you so much for reading!

[starogeorgina]

All mine

Warnings: None

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

1.01

You do your best to stifle a giggle as Spencer looks at you horrified; your most recent confession has thrown him for a loop.

His mouth twitches as he says, “You’ve never tried them?”

“I don’t really like sweet things.”

“How have you never tried a doughnut before?” The giggle escapes your lips as Spencer looks at you unamused before reaching his hand into the paper bag sitting on the table and popping the last mini donut into his mouth. “You’re missing out; it's delicious.”

Watching him lick the sugar off his fingers caused something inside you to twist into a knot in your stomach. He’d smeared some of the sugar across his lips, which he failed to notice. “Hmm,” you cocked your head to the side, “actually, I think I’ll try one.”

“Um, that was the last of them, but I think I might know somewhere-”

You weren’t sure if it was the countless beers you’d drank or the near darkness you were sitting in, but something gave you a sudden urge of confidence you’d never had before. You grabbed the collar of Spencer's shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing the corner of his mouth, which still had sugar on it.

After working late on a case, Spencer insisted on walking you home. When the storm picked up and flash flood warnings came on the news, you offered to let him sleep on your couch. This wasn’t how you intended for the night to go, and the moment you did it, you realized you’d crossed a line. You were about to apologize for overstepping the mark when Spencer kissed you back.

—

You listened to the rest of your team leave the room as your eyes remained fixated on the board in front of you. The bodies of three victims were pinned up; all of them had been stripped naked and brutally murdered. You had been struggling to hold it together for the past few hours, and now your emotions were starting to overflow, thinking about how helpless they must feel.

“Hey Quinn, aren’t you coming?”

You wipe the tears that had fallen from your bloodshot eyes. Damn it. You thought everyone had left.

“Yeah, just coming,” you croaked.

Cautiously Derek walked towards you as a sharp sob cut through the room, it takes you a moment to realize it came from you. Derek steps in front of you, gently cupping your face so that you’ll look at him. Ever since joining the BAU he’d taken on a protective brother role, most likely because you reminded him of Desirée, his younger sister. He says you share her feistiness. “You are going to be fine,” he says reassuringly, assuming he knew what the issue was, “we have a safe location for you, and there will be officers outside at all times. It won’t take us long to find this guy.”

“This isn’t about the unsub, I’m worried about Reid.” Spencer had gotten caught up in a crossfire with the last unsub your team had been chasing and ended up in hospital with minor injuries. He suffered a head wound along with a grazed shoulder from a stray bullet.

He chuckles to himself, “he only needs to stay one more night for observation then the doctors are letting him out.”

You feel yourself breaking as your eyes sting with fresh tears. “I’m pregnant. I found out last night.”

“Oh,” he looks down at you with a fresh wave of concern in his eyes. He briefly looks at the doorway where Garcia was waving for him to hurry up through the window on the door. “Babe, I promise you I will be there for you, whatever you need. But right now I need to take Garcia to the hospital to visit Reid. Do you want to come with us? Or I can swing by after.”

“I-,” you shake your head. “I don’t know what to do.”

Derek lets out a deep sigh, he was torn between how to help multiple friends at once.

The newest unsub your team was focusing on was a killer stalking and murdering women in the FBI all over America. Security specialists, financial experts, intelligence analysts and now he was targeting behavioral Analysis. When you arrived at work in the morning you opened a letter that had a threatening note inside, in the same handwriting all the victims had received days before being killed.

“I think you should come see Reid with us,” Derek puts his jacket on. “At the very least listening to him criticize the hospital food and cleanliness, it will be a distraction.”

You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath, “okay, okay your right. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just overwhelmed.”

He pats your shoulder, “of course you are. Finding out your target and pregnant within twenty four hours would shake anyone. I gotta say I’m surprised, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t… well it’s complicated.”

Derek raises his hands and says, “Hey, no judgment from me, baby girl. I’ve just never heard you even talk about dating. I thought it was an uptight thing.” You swat at his chest playfully as he opens the door for you with a stupid grin on his face. “I was serious, though; whatever happens next, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, and I’m thankful you’re here for me.” You let out another deep breath. “I need to tell my father, who will no doubt freak out.”

“No doubt," he snorts. "Is it someone I know?”

“Spencer is the father.”

—

"Thanks for driving me to my apartment to pick up a get-well present," Garcia says, unbuckling her belt. “But I think I’m going to drive myself to the hospital. There’s a weird vibe in here, and I just don’t want to be part of it. I’ll see you guys soon.”

She hops out and quickly heads into her building. You lean your head back, puffing out your cheeks, knowing Derek is desperate to say something. It had been killing him that Garcia reappeared in the hallway seconds after you told him who the father of your child was, which had caused a building tension. As expected, Derek turns to you with a serious look on his face before he drives off. “Axel Josephine Quinn, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and then expect me to go on as normal. Reid?! Spencer Reid?!”

“Yes, Spencer.”

“I didn't—since when were you guys a thing?” He asks while pulling out onto the road, his voice alarmingly high.

“We aren’t; we are just friends who had a one-time thing.”

He shakes his head. “You know you need to tell Hotch right after you tell Reid, right? Especially now that you are a wanted woman. I’m coming to stay with you at the safe house; there's no way in hell I’m leaving you alone.”

“Thank you, and I’ll tell Hotch as soon as Spence has come to terms with it.” You’d been friends with Spencer long enough to understand that depending on what head space he was in, it would determine how fast he came to terms with the news of becoming a father.

—

“Baby girl, do you want to accompany me to the canteen? I’m starved,” Derek says, looking directly at Garcia.

“Sure thing,” she looks over at you, “are you coming, Joey? Who can resist hospital jelly? I’m sure those guys won’t mind,” she says, motioning to the two cops waiting outside the hospital room. Derek made sure to call them and inform them that you were taking a detour before going to the safe house.

The mere mention of jelly made you feel nauseous, but you managed to fake a smile. “No, I’m good, thanks; I’ll keep Spencer company while you guys eat.”

Spencer was happily reading the science magazine you brought him, along with coffee and rice crispy treats you’d bought from the hospital gift shop. How the hell were you going to ruin his happiness by telling him? Would he be mad? Upset? Closing your eyes, you let out a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself.

“Josephine?”

You chuckle at hearing your name. Since high school, you’d gone by your middle name instead of your first name, but nobody on your team called you Josephine; it was always Joey, so you knew Spencer was feeling awkward.

You open your eyes when Spencer places his hand on top of yours. “I know you have a lot going on right now with being the killer's target, so I won’t push you into talking about what happened between us that night right now, but I want you to know I care a lot about our friendship and hope this doesn’t come between us.”

“I’m so glad you said that; I have something I need to tell you.”

“Does Morgan know? I saw the knowing look he kept giving you, and Gracie was looking between you both, trying to figure out what secret you both know.”

“Spence, please, I’m trying to tell you something important.”

“Sorry, sorry, go on.” He says to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I’m pregnant.”

[smurphyse]

Big Bad Handsome Man | Spencer Reid

Series Masterlist | Smurph's Masterlist

Part 20 of Room 405

Warnings: angst, tension, awkwardness, strip-tease shows, morning sickness, blood

Summary: You and Spencer finally learn what each other do for a living

There were a few things in life that knocked Spencer on his ass. He really thought he had himself figured out more than once, and sure enough life came by and sucker punched him in the jaw, emerging from a passing crowd like an assassin in the night. 

Each time his body lifted with the force. His feet left the ground and he hit the concrete with such force he was sure that blow would be the one to do him in. Each time, Spencer got back up. Sometimes it took weeks, months, even years …but he got back up eventually. 

Those fists to the chin could never have prepared him for this, tonight. No, this was definitely another thing Spencer never saw coming. 

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…" the announcer's voice rang out over the lounge as Spencer and Hotch waited for the Arends' to begin their set. 

The crowd rowdily banged on tables and stomped on the floor, yelling in their excitement. Spencer looked around and cocked a brow at them. It was just a strip tease, how could these people be so into it when none of these performers would want anything to do with them on the outside?

"The Nocturne proudly presents, not for the first time and certainly not the last… the beautiful minds behind this den of depravity, the parents of pleasure, the owners and leads of this proud establishment…"

It felt wrong being here like this, with scantily clad people all selling the idea of sex and strip tease. He supposed it made some people happier to escape into this fantasy for a few hours…but you were his escape and he'd much rather be with you. 

He blanched when he thought about how he'd tell you all about this, but then he thought maybe you'd like to see the show someday. Then he'd have to explain what the hell he was doing here in the first place… oh you were going to make such fun of him. 

"Momma and Daddy, a song of lust and trust. Just don't cream your pants too early, children," the MC purred over the speakers as the lights went dark in the lounge. "It's about to get hot in here."

The curtain began to lift slowly, the drum rolls of the people and the band shuddering the ground beneath them. The tension in the air was thick, heady and putting Spencer on edge. A shimmering sinful red backdrop appeared behind the curtain, the glimmering dancefloor illuminating the whole place with the illusion of depravity. 

Long, lean legs and glittery red stilettos began to appear, followed quickly by a matching bustier and feathered short skirt. Sleek hair was pinned up in a 50s style boudoir look, shining under the spotlights. The woman posed with a grin, leaning on one hip with a flourishing hand pointing up at the lights. 

Charlie Arends stood behind her in black leather pants and a matching vest with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and a confident smirk on his face. He looked over the crowds as they began to cheer, the rest of the stage cast in shadow. He turned his head into the crook of her neck and placed a kiss there. 

When the curtain hit the top, a sultry crimson glow blew across the stage, blinding Spencer for a moment. 

A blasting of trumpets and saxophones exploded through the venue as his eyes adjusted, cheers from the crowd going wild. It was then that Spencer finally took in this woman and her outfit, and his stomach dropped as he noticed the final finishing touch. 

A red collar with a heart charm…just like the one you'd surprised him with all those months ago when he came back from Texas after five weeks away. 

Because the half naked dancer in a barely-there corset for every rich man in this room to see… was you… dancing with Charlie Arends.

Your head turned to press your cheek against Charlie's, and he quickly moved to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. His whole world stopped, a fifty pound weight sinking deeper in his belly as your hand pulled the back of his neck to bring him closer. You pulled away as the music swelled.

"The man is tall, mad, mean and good lookin', and he's got me at his eye," you sang sultrily as you and Charlie locked eyes with cheeky grins. Spencer's fingers gripped his pants leg tightly as boiling hot jealousy coursed through his veins. "When he looks at me, I go weak at the knees. Got me going like no other guy."

Your palm landed gently on your husband's cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist. He twisted you out in a flash, lingering fingers clutching yours as you posed for the crowds. They went wild as Spencer sat, mouth agape, watching you in the last place he'd ever thought you'd be. 

"He's the devil divine, I'm so glad that he's mine. 'Cause he's my big bad handsome man."

A song of lust and trust…

Spencer foolishly thought you saved the lust part for him. Was this how you two always were? Clinging and close and unembarassed by touch?

Spencer's rational mind recalled you saying how close you were with your husband, that you didn't date because people never understood your relationship…but as he watched Charlie Arends dance sexily with you, he wanted to melt into a puddle of self-doubt and anxiety. 

You twirled and sang with your lacquer-lined lips, smiling like a fiend. You turned back to him, belting out with a beautiful confidence, "Oh, the music he plays, the way he moves me and sways, rocks me to the floor."

Charlie placed a palm on your chest and with a choreographed shove pushed you to the floor. Your hand lashed out to grip his tie and pull him with you. Charlie leaned in close and licked a heavy stripe up your neck, and Spencer nearly shredded his pant leg as your eyes rolled back into your head. "When he sings in my ear, he makes me shiver and leer. Leaves me wanting more and more!"

Another carefully planned move later, and you were swept up high, then back on your feet. Charlie twirled you out, and with a faux look of surprise you gazed demurely at the crowd as your bustier slipped off and was thrown to the crowd, leaving you in just a lace red bra. 

The crowd whooped and yelled, and without much thought besides not wanting any of these assholes touching anything belonging to you, Spencer’s hand reached up and snatched it out of the air. 

“Cause he’s my big, bad, handsome man. He’s got me in the palm of his hand…”

A few celebratory claps and disappointed boos sounded out behind him, but Spencer's gaze was solely on you as he clutched the fabric. He vaguely noticed Hotch watching him worryingly out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. Instead he rubbed his thumb over the lace and beadwork, his usually lightning fast mind struggling to process. 

He wanted to march right up on stage and throw you over his shoulder. He wanted to carry you out and make sure you knew who you belonged to… but another part of him was heartbroken. You looked so happy, in a way he'd only seen in Room 405. But then again, he'd rarely seen you outside it. 

Your hair bounced free from your updo, falling over your shoulders. It flew with you as Charlie and you performed this routine. It was so practiced, so comfortable and full of trust between the two of you. He couldn't figure out why he felt so crushed, so betrayed. All he knew was that he thought he was falling apart in this stool.

The music swelled and boomed, the lights shone off your bright lipstick. Another flick of Charlie's wrist and your feather skirt was gone, disappearing over the crowd. It left you in only some lingerie and those sparkly stilettos, and it looked like something he would've bought for you. 

Charlie twirled you out and you walked sultrily down the glossy stairs of the stage. Your hands flicked out expertly to draw attention to your figure. The music hit a peak, and with sudden fear, Spencer realized a spotlight had turned to him and you were fast approaching. This seat was a hot seat, a place for the performers to interact with the audience. 

Spencer swore he saw the moment your breath caught in your chest as you spotted him. Your steps faltered, your jaw dropping. He shifted in his seat to sit up straighter, locking eyes with your suddenly pleading gaze. You looked back at Charlie with wide eyes, and his head cocked in confusion, but you quickly snapped back into gear as your part came up again.

Strutting to the hot seat he was in both metaphorically and physically, your hand slipped around Spencer’s shoulders as you plopped down in his lap. One long leg crossed over the other, and it took everything Spencer had not to pick you up and run you out of the lounge. Your palm slid over his chest, a perfectly manicured nail moving up to guide him by the chin to look at your beautiful face.

“With his rugged good looks, yeah, he’s got me hooked,” you sang sweetly, but your eyes were watery. You were scared and trembling in his lap at his reaction, and without much thought Spencer slid a hand over your thigh and squeezed your knee. “Got me where he wants me to be.”

“We’re going to talk about this later,” Spencer whispered in your ear as you sang. “Just act natural so nobody suspects.”

You didn’t react the way he thought, your eyes turning into a squint. In a flash you twirled off his lap. The spotlight followed you as you moved, hugging your curves in a silhouette. Your palms slid over his chest as you sang, “He’s the kind of guy that does it for me.”

With a quick push, Spencer’s chair flew back. He landed heavily on his back on the hardwood, watching in pure shock as you glowered down at him for a moment before turning on your heel away from him as the crowd roared. Hotch was there in a second, pulling him and the chair upright. 

“He’s the devil divine, I’m so glad that he’s mine.” You sauntered back up the stairs slowly, hands flourishing out. The music pulsed through his veins as the crowd exploded with excitement and you wiggled your backside for every man in this place to see. 

“Cause he’s my big. Bad! I’m so glad.” You turned enough to gaze sultrily out at the audience with a cocky grin, body posed seductively and wrenching Spencer’s heart in his chest. “That he’s my big bad handsome man, hmm…”

The lights cut out, flooding everyone in darkness. The crowd went wild, clapping and jeering. Spencer clenched his fingers around the bustier as he stared at the spot you and Charlie had occupied, a vein pulsing painfully in his forehead. 

He knew this was irrational jealousy. You'd told him time and time again that your marriage was in name only…but that chemistry between you and your husband was undeniable. 

Another act came on a few seconds after the lights faded, dancers flying about the stage in shimmering costumes and singing along to the beat, but his vision tunneled as it became nothing but background noise to Spencer's own insecurities. 

You were the owner of the Nocturne, the wife of Charlie Arends, the mother of the witness to a brutal murder. You were the burlesque dancer who hated cops…the one Hotch said had a police officer ex who was abusive and cruel. 

Why did you keep this from him?

"Reid," Hotch's voice came from his right, and Spencer turned to see his boss watching him with concern. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he spat through gritted teeth. Spencer picked up the bourbon courtesy of Miss Fierce and downed it in one gulp before slamming it back down on the table. 

You ran straight to your office after stepping off stage, flinging the door open to your private bathroom as your stomach lurched. Your knees hit the tile painfully as you threw your dinner up into the toilet loudly. 

Clutching the cool porcelain, your sobs broke free as your stomach emptied itself. The music downstairs vibrated the floor beneath you as you sat in a red lingerie set and sparkly stilettos for everyone to see. God, what did Spencer think of you now?

Everything had been going so well, too well. Loud footsteps came up the stairs as you leaned back to lean on the wall. You suddenly felt so dirty sitting there in underwear and a collar on a strip tease bathroom floor. You were nothing in that moment, once again a pregnant whore who felt like she had nowhere to go.

What the hell was he even doing in a place like this? Had one of his friends dragged him here and he lied and told you it was for work? Could you really be mad at him for coming here when you're the one who owned the den of sin?

Act natural so nobody suspects. He'd talked to you like a dirty little secret…and after this that was probably all you'd be to him. 

Charlie flew into the doorway, collapsing to his knees and putting his hands on your shoulders. You burst into unwanted tears and clung to him like a child. Your future was so uncertain at that moment, and all you wanted was your best friend. 

Charlie curled you up in his lap, holding you so tight you were sure to burst. He brushed back your hair to see you as heavy mascara streaked down your cheeks through the glitter and foundation. 

"Baby, what is going on? Are you okay?" he asked softly, full of such protectiveness you wanted to hold him forever and not let go. 

"Oh, Charlie!" you sobbed hysterically. "I need to go home. Please, please take me home."

"I… I, uhm," Charlie sputtered. He didn't let go of you, but you knew how he got when he felt bad about something. You sat up and watched him warily. 

"What did you do?"

Charlie hung his head in shame, "The FBI is here. They want to talk to you."

You shook your head, "I can't. Not tonight. I need to go home, okay?"

"What's going on?" he asked seriously. His arms around you kept you grounded, but you were terrified. Your whole world seemed to be crashing down around you, and you didn't know what was going to happen next. 

"Charlie…" you whispered. Your voice wavered, and Charlie stiffened. Slowly you raised your eyes to meet his. "I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped, eyes widening in excitement…but then his face scrunched up as he likely realized that baby had no way of being his. Your heart sank into your belly as you watched the father of your children come to his own terms with this, and he nodded slowly.

“The boyfriend?” he asked quietly. You nodded. “Does he know?”

You shook your head, becoming frantic once more. “And for some reason, he’s in the audience in the hot seat… he didn’t know where I work and now he does and… oh, fuck, Charlie!”

You motioned to the mess you looked now with your smeared makeup and scant clothing. “He’s not going to want me anymore… you don’t know about my past, everything… the more he finds out about me the faster he’s going to leave and so will you!”

Charlie’s hand clamped suddenly over your mouth, his brows furrowing together. He watched you with such determination and love you could have died right there. “I know about your past. I didn’t leave, and if he leaves you because of this then you and that kid are better off without him. I’ll be a dad of six instead of five, and you and I both know whoever you marry after me is going to have to deal with that anyway.”

Tears poured over your cheeks and onto his hand. Charlie simply slipped it away from your mouth and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. You sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked you back and forth. “You… you knew? About me this whole time?”

Charlie nodded against your head, “My dad wanted a background check after you told me you were pregnant. I saw everything, and well… I didn’t give a shit because I knew that you were my soulmate, baby. He tried to talk me out of it and… I lied and told you it was because of the club. I’m glad he’s not in our lives, because we deserve to surround ourselves with people who accept us for who we are.”

He pulled back to brush your hair away from your forehead and smile at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s what we’ve done for the people here, together. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Okay?”

Your voice shook but you believed him, and you were so happy he never made you talk about being a call girl or made you ever feel bad for having to do what you did to keep Tulip safe. “Okay.”

Charlie kissed you then, soft and slow. It wasn’t sexual, it never was anymore. It was comforting, full of love and devotion in a way so few people would ever understand. You kissed him back, clinging to him like the lifeline he was in the darkness you’d found yourself in so suddenly. 

There was a clearing of a throat, and a soft knock on the doorframe, and when you pulled away you found yourself looking up at Agent Hotchner… and Spencer, holding your discarded bustier.

“Mrs. Arends,” he said softly, always nice to you even though you’d been a raging dick to him time and time again. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but you couldn’t pull your gaze from the sheepish man before you. He lacked all the confidence he had in Room 405, and instead watched you with watery eyes… you knew he’d seen you kissing Charlie, and it had broken his heart.

“Spencer,” you murmured, mostly in shock.

“Y/N,” he replied quietly. 

Agent Hotchner sighed and ran a hand over his forehead. He held out a hand for you. “I think we have a few things to talk about, including your relationship with Doctor Reid.”

He and Charlie helped you stand shakily while Spencer held himself back with his hands shoved in his pockets. Your brows furrowed, and you pointed between them, “You two know each other?”

Agent Hotchner nodded, “Doctor Reid works with me in the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Charlie gasped and his head shifted down to you. Everyone seemed to be staring right through you as your brain struggled to process what he was telling you. Charlie thrust a finger at Spencer, “This is the boyfriend?”

Spencer's eyes lit up a bit, turning to you with hopefulness. Anger and confusion battled in your mind for dominance, old memories of Tulip's biological father swirling to the surface. 

“I… I didn’t know,” you muttered, staring hard at Spencer. You cocked your head, “You’re in the FBI? You’re a cop?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, almost shamefully. “I convinced your husband to let us talk to you tonight… about interviewing Tulip. We think she might be th-.”

“You’re a cop!?” you asked again sharply. All the men seemed to take a collective cautious breath in as rage boiled through you like a wildfire. 

Spencer's eyes clamped shut for a moment, like he always did when he was frustrated, and he ran a heavy hand over the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. You knew that about him, all those little things about his personality…and here he stood before you in too similar a job as someone who almost broke you. 

He opened them slowly, those long lashes flickering as he struggled to contain himself. Spencer straightened his shoulders and locked jaw. His reached out his palm with your bustier and handed it to you. "You should probably get dressed."

Your battered mind struggled through the slosh of emotions and all this new conflicting information, but you managed to look toward the mirror above the sink and see how much of a mess you were. 

Mascara stained your cheeks, your lipstick smeared. Your lingerie was rumpled and rucked up around your waistline. The only thing still in tact was that fucking collar. Your chin began to wobble as you saw yourself… you looked just how you did when you were stripping for money or getting dressed after visiting a client… like a whore, a sex worker no FBI agent would dare be seen with. 

You nodded slowly and grabbed it from him, your arms moving up to cover yourself. Sucking in a pained breath, you moved forward and pushed past them without a word and into your office. 

You had a paper divider by the window so you could change by yourself and in privacy, and a dresser behind it. With wobbly legs, you struggled to carry yourself over, but Charlie was right behind you, keeping you safe without having to ask for it. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Miss Fierce came in. Her jaw dropped a bit as she spotted you, but she didn't comment on it when she saw Charlie. She thrust a thumb over her shoulder, "I'm sorry to bother, but there's some guy bothering Tessa near the bathrooms."

"Where's Manny?" Charlie asked gruffly, making it clear he didn't want to leave you. 

"He's on stage and so is Marty."

"Go," you told him softly, but he put a hand on your waist to tell me he didn't want to. You pushed him lightly, "Seriously, go take care of it. I'll be fine."

He shifted so you couldn't see Spencer or Aaron, leaning in close, "You sure?"

"We have to take care of our girls, Chuck." You gave him a soft smile, "You know me. I'll be okay."

Charlie nodded and pressed his lips to your forehead. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the office, making sure to take the time to eye Spencer on his way out. Miss Fierce followed after him, closing the door quietly on her way out. 

"Have a seat," you offered, waving my hands at the fuzzy pink chairs in front of my desk. You went behind the divider and opened a drawer where they couldn't see you. There was a dressing mirror in the corner, and it took all you had not to break down looking at yourself. 

"Obviously, this situation was unexpected," Aaron's voice came from the other side. You heard him sigh and continue, "I knew Spencer had a girlfriend, but I didn't know it was you and he had no reason to tell me as such." 

You shrugged a long duster over a bodysuit tank top and pulled on some jeans, but something about that sentence bothered you as you dressed. You slipped on a black pair of stilettos and pulled your hair back into a ponytail. The anger bubbled further to the surface as you wiped off your makeup, and as soon as you were done you flew out from behind the divider in a rage.

“You knew your team was questioning my daughter!?” you snarled as you stomped toward the desk, your finger pointed at Spencer. “Did you read my file?”

His eyes turned to saucers, wide and a bit scared of your rage. Spencer leaned back in the ridiculous chair and braced himself on the arms. “I… I didn’t…”

Aaron put a hand between you as if to protect him. “Out of respect for your privacy and explicitly detailed lack of trust in the police, I did not divulge any information with my team except what was necessary. Doctor Reid had no idea you were the mother of a victim.”

Spencer watched you and nodded as your chest heaved. You couldn't seem to help but growl as you struggled to contain your anger. You hated cops. They couldn't be trusted. 

You decided to sit down and pour yourself a drink of water from the bottle you kept in your desk drawer. You didn't offer Spencer or Aaron anything, just took a long sip and glared at them. 

"We initially came here tonight to see if you were open to the idea of Doctor Reid speaking with Tulip," Aaron continued cautiously. "He doesn't seem to have had any idea you worked here even though you're supposedly together, but I guess that's something we can sort out later."

"I'm pretty sure I told you exactly where to shove your badge after talking to her last time," you replied coldly, setting the heavy tumbler on the desk. "She's had nothing but nightmares since she spoke with you."

"I understand, but Reid has a great rapport with children, and like I said before I believe talking about it is going to help Tulip more than keeping it inside."

You turned to Spencer, who watched you with those damned puppy dog eyes, "Why should she talk to you?"

"I, uhm, specialize in what we call 'cognitive interviews,'" Spencer started slowly. He cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed his neck again, and all it did was make you angrier. "This is especially helpful with children. We talk them through the incident as if it's happening in real time, and they experience it again in a safe space where they know they can't be injured or harmed."

He swallowed thickly, hardly able to keep eye contact with you. How could he after seeing you on stage? "It helps people work through the effects of early PTSS, as the event no longer tends to appear in their mind like it's still happening."

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back, eyeing him critically. Spencer leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and finally locked eyes with you. 

"You'll be right by her side, keeping her safe," he pleaded, eyes wide and full of what you could have confused for love for you if tonight hadn't happened. "Please, sweetheart, trust me with this. I won't let anything happen to her. You have to know that."

"I don't know anything right now," you whispered, and he nodded sadly. Using his nickname for you in this situation… it gutted you. 

And knowing you were pregnant…you wanted to believe him, but your mind was so scattered. You had kids who needed you now, and your body was trying to create a new one. All this stress… it couldn't be good for you or the baby. 

A sharp scream echoed from downstairs, jolting all three of you from your spot. Your family was down there, and you were on your feet quicker than Spencer or Aaron. You tore across the room without any thought, barreling down the hallway with them following closely behind. 

"Sweetheart, stop!" Spencer called, and you heard the familiar click of a gun leaving its holster. You hadn't even noticed one on him… so many things you didn't know about the man you were in love with. 

As you reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, you spotted a group of people gathered around the bathroom doors. The music had stopped, and someone had turned all the lights on, which only made the danger seem that much more nefarious. 

"Move!" you yelled, shoving through the throngs of people. If one of your girls was injured, you needed to get to them. "Get out of my way!"

There were a few disgruntled hey lady's as you elbowed your way through them. Flinging open the door to the bathroom, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw on the tile floor. 

A man was slumped under the sink, a bloody trail leaking from his stomach and over the porcelain. Your eyes glazed over the scene, not really processing it, until you saw Charlie. 

He lay on his back, and he wasn't moving. His blond hair was flecked with splattered blood and mucus. His face was covered with thick red liquid, pooling beneath him and onto the floor below. Your veins filled with ice as you began to panic. 

You collapsed with a scream, reaching out and cradling his head in your hands. It smeared under your palms and across his skin, but you tried to push that out of your mind. He grunted a bit but his eyes didn't open. "Charlie? C'mon, baby, look at me!"

"Move," Aaron's voice came from the side, and he pushed you away. His hands wandered under Charlie's neck, and you realized he was checking for a pulse. 

"No, no, no," you sputtered, unable to comprehend the sight before you. It was all too much, and you couldn't do this without him. You needed him. 

You tried to put your hands on Charlie again, babbling like a child, "Charlie, baby. Baby, please wake up!"

"Reid, get her out of here!" Aaron snapped, and before you knew it a pair of hands grabbed you under the armpits and lifted you in the air. 

"Get off me! Let me go!" you screeched, kicking and flailing, but Spencer never dropped you. 

He pushed you out the door, and you managed to wiggle out of his grasp, falling to the floor. Your morning sickness hit, and before you knew it you threw up all over the ground.  

The gawking staff and customers cast a wide berth, not wanting to get your sick on them even during a time like this. Spencer's pulled back your ponytail as you threw up again. 

"It’s okay, it's gonna be okay," he soothed, rubbing a palm over your spine. "Sweethe-."

"Get off me!" you snarled, shoving him away. Spencer lifted his hands from you and held them up to prove he wouldn't touch you again. You panted as you watched him on your knees, "Let me in there. Now."

He shook his head firmly, getting on his knees to block you. "I can't do that. I called 911, and they're on their way. You'll only get in the way."

Your face scrunched up in rage as you pointed past him, "That's my husband in there!"

Spencer sighed and nodded. You watched in confusion as a tear trickled down his cheek. 

"I know."

"He needs me." 

Spencer shook his head now and wiped his face, "He needs EMS, and Hotch is first aid certified. You need to stay here."

You couldn't focus your rage anywhere else but at him, lurching forward and shoving him again from your spot on your knees. "You don't get to tell me what to do! Not you, not ever again!"

"Okay," he agreed sotfly. Spencer looked like he wanted to touch you again, but he kept himself back. "Okay, whatever you want."

All the fight left your body as you began to hear sirens, and you went mostly limp on the floor. Tears streaked down your cheeks, your hands slick with blood as you watched the love of your life keep you away from your soulmate. 

"He's my husband," you whispered tearfully. 

"I know," Spencer said again, his chin wobbling. He nodded bravely, but his eyes were red and watery. He gave you a weak smile. 

"I know."

Notes: I promise you we'll have a happy ending!

I also wanted to say thank you. I know this was a long update coming, but I have had some of the craziest stuff go on, both good and bad! I chose to work on other stories since I had a block on this for so long, and people gave me a lot of hate... so for those of you who were nice and encouraging, THANK YOU <3 It means a lot to me.

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