#Spencer reid/reader

[happy74827]

White Lies

[Spencer Reid x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You have constantly lied to your mother about your private life, as she was one to disapprove of everything, but those "harmless lies" become a lot more serious when you forget to cancel plans with your closest friend.

WC: 3036

Category: Fluff, Fake Dating, Sassy!Reid {TW: Reader’s mom is Authoritarian}

Another drafted idea that I finally wrote up because Spencer is the definition of pookie, and you cannot change my mind. This is also a dedication to my girl, @yoursacredqueenmother, for matching my crazy delulu fantasies 🫶💖

『••✎••』

Your mom has always been a force of nature—a whirlwind of opinions, expectations, and unsolicited advice that sweeps through your life like a hurricane. She’s the kind of woman who believes she knows what’s best for you, even when you’re pretty sure she doesn’t. Ever since you turned 30 last year, her visits have become more frequent, and her nagging has reached a fever pitch.

"You’re getting old, sweetheart," she’d say, her voice dripping with concern that felt more like judgment. "You need to settle down, find a nice man, start a family. I’m not going to be around forever, you know."

The words were always delivered with a smile, but they stung like a slap. You love her, you really do, but her constant pressure makes you feel like you’re failing at some unspoken test of womanhood.

So, to get her off your back, you’d started lying. Little white lies at first—"I’m seeing someone, Mom, it’s just early stages"—but they quickly snowballed into more and more elaborate fibs. Soon, you were telling her that you were dating a doctor who wanted nothing more than to start a family with you but was waiting for the right time.

It was easier to make up a fictitious doctor than to explain the real reason you were still single.

Because the truth is that the man of your dreams is already in your life, he's been here for years, and he's always been the perfect friend. The problem is that he's a little hard to read. You have no idea how he feels about you or if he sees you as more than a friend.

You'd tried to tell him how you felt about him before, but the words had stuck in your throat. He’d seemed so confused, so shocked by the mere suggestion of romance. Maybe he just didn't see you that way. Maybe you’d ruin your friendship by even mentioning the idea.

This led to where you are now: alone, frustrated, and trying to figure out how to keep your mother from butting into your personal life. You’d thought maybe she’d drop the issue after your birthday, but she’d come by to "surprise you" last night and is now currently sitting at the kitchen table, looking around your apartment with an expression of vague disappointment.

"Honey, you’re an adult now," she says, not looking up from her coffee cup. "You can’t keep living like this."

She gestures at the living room, which is scattered with discarded letters and half-read books. The mess is a symptom of the chaos in your head as you’ve been too preoccupied with thoughts of him to worry about cleaning up after yourself.

"It’s not that bad," you mumble, though you know it is. Even he’d commented on the state of your apartment when he’d last stopped by, and his place is usually worse than yours. Messy, not dirty. He’s a bit of an organized hoarder.

"Well, maybe not for a single girl," she sighs. "But what if Doctor Whoever comes over? Don’t you want to impress him?"

You bite your lip, trying to keep your temper in check. This is the problem with your mother—she has a habit of steamrolling over your feelings, and you've never been able to stand up to her. You’d thought you were done having this argument when you turned 30. Apparently, you’d thought wrong.

"Mom," you begin, your voice firm. "I told you, he doesn't care about stuff like that. He's more concerned with things like—"

The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid-sentence. Thank God. You’re not sure what you would have said, but any excuse is better than none. You figured it was the mailman, late with that package you’d been expecting, but when you just so happen to glance at the calendar (the one your father bought you last Christmas, with pictures of cats wearing hats), your stomach drops.

March 21st, which may not seem important, and it really isn’t, unless you look closer and realize that the cat in the picture is wearing a lab coat and is holding a beaker. Because that, my friends, is not just a picture. It is a reminder.

The one thing you had not wanted to forget.

The one thing, apparently, you had forgotten.

You’d been so busy trying to avoid your mother’s questions about your non-existent boyfriend that you’d completely lost track of time. The calendar sits there, taunting you, and all you can think is:

Oh, no.

Because the person who had rang the doorbell? It was him. He and his adorable grin, hazel-like eyes, and messy brown hair. He probably even brought a bag of those terribly expensive chocolates you love.

You want to cry. Of course, it had to be that day, the day of all days, the day you'd been secretly anticipating for all month.

Chess day. It was a monthly ritual you'd started with him when he'd discovered that you, too, were a fan of the game. You were absolutely terrible at it, and he won every time, but honestly, you didn't care. Chess day was just an excuse for you to spend time with him.

Except today, you have company, and it’s not exactly the kind you want him to meet.

You were supposed to call him, but in your haste to please your mom, you completely forgot.

Your mother’s gaze shifts to the door, and her eyebrows rise as if she can sense his presence on the other side. "Well, aren’t you going to answer that?"

No.

That's what you wanted to say. Instead, you hear yourself saying:

"Yeah, just a sec."

And, like a complete idiot, you open the door.

You open the door, and he’s there, all bright-eyed, smiling, holding a box of chocolates and his perfectly polished travel chess set. You feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

"Uh, hey!" he chirps, his voice making your stomach flip. He doesn’t seem to notice the tension in the air or the fact that your mother is standing right behind you, peering curiously over your shoulder. "I know I’m a little early, but I needed to pick up some things and..."

He trails off as his gaze settles on your mother. She’s eyeing him like a hawk and doing what she does when meeting a new person: leaning forward slightly, squinting her eyes, and tilting her head. You can see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Is this him?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

Before you can stop her, she grabs your wrist and pulls you aside. You stumble into the kitchen, and she takes your place, smiling warmly at him.

"So, you’re the doctor," she says, her voice full of approval. "My daughter has told me so much about you!"

Oh, this is bad. So, so bad.

"Uh," he begins, clearly caught off-guard. His eyes dart to yours, and you were expecting his classic confused puppy look, but this time, it’s different. He looks... honored? No, that can't be right.

"She… talked about me?" he stammers, looking back at your mother.

She nods. "All the time! In fact, I was starting to think she’d made you up. It’s good to know my daughter has such a handsome young man in her life."

You want to die. Right there, on the spot. But, somehow, you manage to force a smile, even as your heart pounds with anxiety.

And your mother? She beams.

"It’s lovely to meet you finally," she gushes. She reaches out and shakes his hand, and he stares at her with a dazed expression. "My daughter has always been a bit shy, and she tends to keep things close to the vest if you know what I mean."

"Mom, please," you cut in, mortified. "Stop."

He still hasn't said a word, and the silence is killing you.

"Well, come on in, then," your mother continues, ignoring your protests. "I insist. After all, I can't wait to learn more about my future son-in-law!"

And this is when the situation goes from bad to worse.

This is when he freezes, and the box of chocolates threatens to slip from his fingers. You watched as he struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"I... Uh, that's not... we’re not..."

"Yes! Yes, we are!" you shout, desperate to cover up his stammering. He looks at you, his expression shifting from confused to shocked, and it’s like a punch in the gut. "That’s right, Mom. This is him. My boyfriend. Doctor Whoever."

"Oh, sweetie, this is so wonderful!" Your mother is so busy clapping her hands with delight that she doesn't notice his reaction.

"Doctor… Whoever?" He looks offended and a bit hurt. "What’s that supposed to mean—?"

"Shush!" You hiss, silently pleading with him to keep quiet. He must have caught your desperation because he shuts his mouth.

It allowed you a moment to process everything. Your mother is smiling widely, her face filled with delight. She doesn't even seem bothered by the fact that he’s currently dressed like a college professor with an evident love for scarves.

Meanwhile, he’s standing there, blinking stupidly, looking as if his entire world has been flipped upside-down. He seems torn between anger and elation, and honestly, it’s confusing as hell. You want to grab him and apologize and explain that this was all a mistake, but you can’t. Not with your mother right there.

So, you knew what you had to do.

"Mom! Say, would you mind doing me a huge favor and just give us like a few minutes? We have some important totally-not-boyfriend stuff to discuss."

"Sure, honey." She grins. "I'll do some unpacking. How about that?"

"Perfect!"

She practically skips into the other room, leaving the two of you alone. There’s a long, uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut.

The sigh you let out is one of relief, tinged with the faintest hint of dread.

Though, he was the first to break the silence with words.

"I didn’t realize we were dating," he says, his voice low. He's not quite glaring at you, but it's a close thing. "Last time I checked, statistically, dating requires at least two people. Which leads me to the logical conclusion that you are, in fact, a liar. Unless this is some strange, newfangled term for friendship, in which case, I think it would be more appropriate for me to refer to you as the "teller of lies" rather than a—"

"I know, I'm sorry." You blurt out, your cheeks flushing with shame. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. She was asking all these questions, and I couldn't tell her the truth, and then she just kept talking, and I couldn't get a word in edgewise, and... I panicked. Okay? That’s all."

"What do you mean, couldn’t tell her the truth?" He narrows his eyes. "Is something wrong? Did you get yourself into trouble?"

"No! No, nothing like that."

"Then, what is it that you can't tell her?"

He steps closer, and the concern in his eyes makes you feel even guiltier.

"Look, don't worry about it, alright? It’s not important." You turn away, refusing to meet his gaze.

"If it isn’t important, then why are you so embarrassed?"

"I’m not embarrassed."

"Your cheeks are flushed," he points out. "And you tend to rub your thumb against your forefinger when you’re feeling nervous or stressed. Which, coincidentally, is also something you do when you’re lying."

Damn it. You should’ve known better than to lie to a profiler.

"You don’t know what it’s like to be interrogated by my mother," you snap, harsher than intended. You soften your voice before continuing. "It’s like she’s constantly see-sawing between disapproval and pity. She means well, but when she’s around, I feel like I'm being crushed under the weight of her expectations."

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

"And I know, I know, that’s not an excuse for lying. I just... I’m sorry, okay? It was wrong and selfish and... I didn’t mean to drag you into it."

You brace yourself for the inevitable rejection, the anger, the disappointment. Instead, you hear him let out a sigh, followed by the familiar look of resolve that comes over him when he's faced with a challenging puzzle.

"You know, when we first met, you used to lie all the time." He glances at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You would say things like, 'I don't watch rom-coms,' and, 'I have a real job,' and, most infamously, 'there's no such thing as aliens.'"

"Hold on a minute—"

He ignored your protests, his smile growing wider.

"You’re not that bad of a liar. Actually, you’re pretty decent, considering your lack of social skills. So the fact that you’ve managed to fool your mother is pretty impressive."

"Hey—"

"And, honestly, it’s a little flattering."

"I— Wait… what?" You gape at him, trying to figure out what's going on. "Flattering?"

He shrugs, but you can tell he's trying not to blush.

"Liars tend to use people they know well or trust implicitly when they need a cover story because they have more information about them and are therefore more believable. So, by lying about your fake boyfriend, that being me, it suggests that you trust me enough to make a convincing cover story, and the fact that you are embarrassed about the deception implies a certain amount of fondness."

"You can't know all that from a simple lie."

"Can’t I?"

There's something in his tone, the slightest hint of a tease, that makes your heart flutter. He's always been like this, so damn perceptive. You never knew what to make of it.

"It’s actually a well-established behavioral theory," he continues. "Deceivers typically show affection toward the person they are attempting to deceive. In fact, a study in the 1970s—"

"Spencer, please." You hold up a hand. "I get it."

"I'm not so sure that you do."

There's an intensity in his gaze that makes your stomach do backflips.

"Because," he murmurs, moving a little closer, "if you did, I wouldn’t have had to spend the past three years of my life wondering why my best friend keeps avoiding my gaze."

"You noticed that?" You squeak, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

"I notice everything."

He takes a step toward you, and it’s so quick, so unexpected, that you can't help but glance up. He's actually extremely close, his face mere inches from yours, and you find yourself frozen, unable to speak, unable to think, as his eyes lock with yours.

"I notice that the color of your eyes changes depending on the lighting." He pauses, and his voice grows softer. "And I notice that your pupils dilate when I'm near. I notice the way you breathe, the way you laugh, the way you chew your bottom lip when you’re deep in thought. And I can’t help but notice that the closer I get, the faster your heart rate becomes. That could be a number of things, of course, and not just an indication of arousal, but considering the context, the likelihood that it’s due to anything other than sexual excitement is simply—"

"Spence," you breathe, your pulse pounding in your ears. You’re not sure what to do, so you blurt out the first thing that pops into your mind. "Do you want to be my fake boyfriend?"

There’s a moment of silence, followed by a quiet snort.

"I thought I already was."

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but the tension between you has lessened. Now, he’s simply staring at you with a smug smile, and it's like a dam has burst. The words tumble out of your mouth, spilling out like water from a leaky faucet.

"Well, then, you should know that my boyfriend is absolutely infuriating and has a tendency to ramble about obscure facts at inappropriate moments. And he’s really, really bad at taking a hint."

His smile widens, and his voice takes on a teasing tone.

"Oh, he is, is he? Tell me, is he good at chess?"

"No, he’s terrible at it."

"Then, he sounds like a total loser."

"Yeah," you admit, biting back a smile. "He’s the biggest loser I know."

"In that case, you should know that my girlfriend is incredibly frustrating and a compulsive liar who uses her boyfriend for cover stories. She also tends to cheat her way to victory despite still losing most of the time."

"I do not cheat!" You protest, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

"No, you just make up rules on the spot in order to justify why you lose so badly."

"You’re one to talk. You’re the one who’s been letting me win all this time."

"Perhaps," he grins. "Or maybe I’ve been letting you believe that."

You narrow your eyes.

"Are you admitting to me what I think you're admitting?"

"What is it that you think I’m admitting to?"

"I think you’re admitting to me that you’ve been throwing our chess games all this time."

"That sounds like the ramblings of someone who cheats and is trying to project their own faults onto others."

"Oh, you know what—"

And that's when the bedroom door swings open, and your mother's voice cuts through the air like a knife.

"Ahem."

She's standing there, smiling, and holding a box filled with old pictures and baby toys. Your father had sent it to you last year, hoping that you’d have children soon and use it, but you’d put it in storage, intending to deal with it later. Apparently, your mother had decided now was the perfect time.

The both of you share a look, and it's clear that he’s thinking the same thing as you.

"Not interrupting, am I?" She asks, glancing from him to you and then back again. Her smile was practically glowing, and she had a strange look in her eyes as if she were a cat watching a bird. "I was just looking for a place to put these old things and thought maybe my daughter's boyfriend might be interested in seeing them."

The shared look between the two of you solidified what was going through both of your minds. This was indeed going to be a long, long afternoon.

[khxna]

Spencer Reid x tech analyst reader rec list🌷💿⌨️

No more misunderstandings by @reidmarieprentiss

Kiss kiss fall in love by @rumplereids

PDA by @januaryembrs

Rewritten plans by @reidmarieprentiss

🩷 by @moonstruckme

Research purposes by @rumplereids

Pair programming by @gold-onthe-inside (prequel to greylist)

Greylist by @gold-onthe-inside

Critical asset by @gold-onthe-inside

Asylum by @gold-onthe-inside

Unexpected surprise by @dr-spencer-reids-queen

My petite protégée by @somethingubercool

Divider by @thecutestgrotto

Pls let me know if there's an issue with the links

[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.

[eideticmemory]

SCRIBE | SPENCER REID

You: I need someone to document everything I say.

Spencer Reid: Done.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Older!Reader, FamousRealityStar!Reader, Fuckboy!Gradschool!Spencer?? My brand I guess?? PreBAU!Spencer. And smut of course!!!

There is a perpetual knot in your neck. You cannot remember the day you woke up with it, but when doctors ask you about it, you estimate that it’s been there for about two months. Around the time the current season went on air. It is located between the base of your brain and your shoulder blade. It’s hard to raise your right arm too high. It is prominent and sharp at the most inconvenient times and only rests when you are asleep.

Today, it is giving you a migraine. You are slurring your speech in interview from interview, only halfway focused on each person. Each bright eyed, ivy bred, I-Am-The-One candidate with words per minute as high as 290. You are sitting at your desk, elbows resting on the glass as you rub the back of your neck, grimacing.

“Are you having a stroke?” Spencer asks.

“What?”

“Are you having a stroke?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Um…concern?”

“I’m not having a stroke.”

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Good.”

You shake your head, “How many words did you say you can type a minute?”

“Oh, like, on the computer?” he asks. You actually look up at him when he says this and he is chiseled in the face. Leaned back in his seat, his head held up by his hand. “Like…70, maybe?”

You look him dead in the eye and say, “70?”

“Yeah, around there.”

“Around there?”

“Plus or minus 5.”

You take a deep breath and your head hurts. You put both arms on the desk and ask, “What’s your name again?”

“Spencer.”

“Spencer, right,” you nod. “How, exactly, did you make it to the interview round?”

“Oh, I slept with your personal assistant. He’s a fiery little guy.”

And for a second, you think about Luke, you look at this pretty little boy and you think that it is plausible until Spencer says, “Oh, my god. Is that really all I had to do?”

You’re stunned, and you keep having to shake your head because there is no way this interview is happening.

“I have an eidetic memory. I don’t need to type. I just stand there and look pretty. Kinda like what you do.”

“Bite me.”

“Sore spot?”

“Okay, thank you for coming,” you say and you start to get up from your chair. Your head hurts with movement.

“Are you having a stroke?”

You stop in your tracks, you look at him, and with every fiber of your being, you say, “What?”

“Are you having a stroke?” he continues. “Why would you ask me that? Um…concern? I’m not having a stroke. Oh, okay, good. How many words did you say you can type a minute? Oh, like, on the computer? Like…70, maybe? 70? Yeah, around there. Around there? Plus or minus 5. What’s your name again? Spencer. Spencer, right, how, exactly, did you make it to the interview round? Oh, I slept with your personal assistant, he’s a fiery little guy. Oh, my god. Is that really all I had to do? I have an eidetic memory, I just stand there and look pretty, kinda like what you do. Bite me. Sore spot? Okay, thank you for coming.”

You stare at him.

“And the conversation repeats from there,” he nods.

You continue to stare and he says, “I know. It freaks people out. But I thought, hey, a job as a scribe. I’m perfect for that. I’m not that ugly I can be on TV-“

“When can you start?”

“O-oh,” he stutters. “Start? I can start tomorrow.”

You pick up the stack of applicants on your desk and drop them in the trash and tell him, “Luke will show you out.” And you go home to take a nap.

This is the one interaction in your life that was not filmed. Figures. Something of substance, something truly integral to the coming months of your life and it is done in private. How it should be, supposedly.

On Spencer’s first day, you are negotiating with Vogue. Vogue. The crew is there an hour before you. And he has the nerve to show up in sweats. A slutty little shirt with sleeves that cuts off at his elbow. He has prominent blue veins that run down his forearm and he is unbelievably pale today. His hair is disheveled and he walks in with his hands in pockets. Truthfully, there has not been much contact between the two of you, most communications running between him and Luke, who has a massive crush on Spencer.

He’s just so magnetic, Luke says. And the fact that he couldn’t care less is just soooo attractive.

But he’s a dick. He says to you, “You look professional.”

“You look sloppy. Did no one send you a dress code?”

“No, just a tax form.”

You roll your eyes, “Someone needs to dress you,” and with a snap of your fingers, you call, “Marcie!”

“Do you always snap at people like dogs?”

Marcie dresses Spencer in spare clothes. A nice button down and slacks. There are no spare shoes in his size so he has on his sneakers. He is sitting at the meeting room roundtable and from the waist up, he looks a bit more distinguished. He has bags under his eyes that have to be touched up with makeup.

You sit down beside him, because, after all, he is your backup here. He leans over and whispers, “Is every day like this?”

“Every minute, pretty boy, keep up.” You rub the back of your neck.

“Oh,” he smiles at you. “You think I’m pretty?”

You give his question some thought, get nervous when the two of you make eye contact. And then the cameras are rolling.

For most of the meeting, Spencer is leaned back. His eyes flicker from person to person, from camera to camera to you.

His eyes fall on you a lot.

In the weeks to come, he is, surprisingly, good at his job. He submits transcripts at the last minute, and he still hasn’t nailed the A-List dress code, but his work is immaculate. With every day, every week, every month that goes by, there is a new reason not to fire him. There is subtle assurance that you will not find a better scribe, even if you tried.

He comes to your home while the cameras are rolling and winks at Luke, who has to hide his face as he blushes.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him. You are poking around your walk in closet, fabric swatches for your upcoming fashion line splayed across the floor.

“The Elle Magazine meeting? Doesn’t it start soon?”

“Not for another hour,” Luke tells him. He’s giving Spencer this gooey, lovesick smile.

“Well, hey, look at that, I’m never early,” Spencer laughs.

You turn around as he plops down in your loveseat and you groan.

“What?” he asks. “What?”

“Come with me,” you order. You are at your limit. You leave the room and Luke and Spencer look at each other. “Now!” and they hop out of their seats.

Cameras trail behind you all through your massive home. You grab your car keys and Luke asks, “Where are you going?”

“We,” you explain. “Are going to get this boy some new clothes.” You stick your finger in Spencer’s face and he is very tempted to smack it away.

“I don’t need any new clothes,” he says.

And you only reply by looking him up and down. His gym shorts, his white shirt.

“Oh, spare me, little miss I-have-a-new-versace-outfit-for-every-day-of-my-life,” he rolls his eyes. “I dress just fine.”

“No, you don’t,” you tell him, and he crosses his arms over his chest like a child. You look over at the camera crew, “Tell production we’ll be behind two hours.”

Spencer is overwhelmed by paparazzi. He is in utter shock over the way they invade your space, crowding your car before he can even get out the back seat. He pops open the door and a flash goes off his face and he shoves the guy out the way.

“Hey!”

“Get out of the way, dude!” he grumbles.

“I’ll sue!”

“I know [y/n] [y/l/n], I’d like to see you try!”

Luke looks over at you from the passenger seat. His cheeks are red. “Could he be any hotter?”

Spencer has never set foot in any of these stores. GQ, Maxfield, Fred Segal. He is in awe by the size of these stores alone, and even more so by the price tag on everything. Luke takes the lead, strolling through each department, plopping shirts and pants over his forearm in collection. Cameras and faces are pressed against the glass, watching you all like animals in a zoo. The pain in your neck is starting to radiate down your arm and you take every chance you can to sit. You offer comments from the sidelines, watching Luke dress Spencer from head to toe.

Spencer comes out in a polo and khaki pants and says, “I feel stupid.”

“You look amazing,” Luke grins, and he takes this opportunity to touch Spencer. Fix up his collar, smooth out his chest.

And while he may feel stupid, Spencer looks so good. The thought flashes through your mind for just an instant. You’d be blind to ignore it. The black fabric contrasts starkly against his skin. His waist is hugged by the fit and his hair falls into his face just enough that he has to tuck it behind his ear. You do not realize you are staring until he looks at you. His eyes catch yours and you look away.

“Oh, yes,” Luke grins, placing one last touch on Spencer’s shoulders before turning to the sales associate. “This is perfect. Evan, add this to the tab.”

You look back at Spencer and he has not stopped staring at you. He is fixated and holding your gaze. He gives you a small smile and you avert your eyes once again.

You drop five grand on Spencer and he cannot believe it every time you swipe your card. “Holy crap,” he says. “Thanks, sugar mama.”

Luke chuckles and you cut your eyes at him. Security surrounds you as you put shades on and leave the store. Spencer attends the Elle Magazine meeting in the polo and khaki combo. He has a tendency to make people nervous, the way he just sits there and watches and listens. When executives ask about him, you say he’s a scribe and you say nothing more. You’ve asked him to bring a computer, something, to make him appear less crazy, but he is incapable of listening.

“And, so, basically, what we would do, [y/n],” an executive says before clearing his throat. “Is use your image to promote the skincare line and divide those residuals amongst your team with, of course, you taking forty percent off the top.”

“It should be fifty,” Spencer says. Everyone’s eyes cut to him, including yours.

“I’m…” the executive laughs anxiously. “I’m sorry?”

“It should be fifty. [y/n] should be getting fifty off the top.”

“No…no, scribe, I’m pretty sure it’s forty.”

“Really? Hm?” Spencer tilts his head. “Clause 4, paragraph 5 of the contract sent to Miss [y/l/n]: Elle Magazine agrees to distribute remaining residuals amongst the [y/l/n] team, provided a fifty percent split profit between Elle and Miss [y/l/n] as per applicable profits. Now, I don’t have the document with me, but I’m willing to bet that fifty percent that I’m recalling correctly. Y’know, as a scribe and all.”

You take your eyes away from Spencer and turn to the executive who has gone red in the face, “Trying to pull one over on me, Vince?”

Vince sputters, “Of course not, [y/n]. I-I simply misspoke. Um, Eva, can we get an updated transcript to reflect the fifty percent divide, please? Thank you.”

You slowly turn your head back to Spencer, your lips pursed. He winks at you and leans back in his chair, tapping his finger to his forehead, “Eidetic memory,” he whispers.

Business discussions are very rarely filmed from start to finish, but once you exit the meeting room, you wish you hadn’t made an executive exception today. “What the hell were you thinking, dude?” you snap at Spencer.

“They were trying to go over your head. Isn’t that what I’m there for? To make sure contracts you signed are being honored? Why am I in trouble? Vince should be in trouble.”

“Actually, Spencer, that’s not your job. Your job is to sit and listen and document. Did you read the duties in your job description or what?”

“I can list them off the top of my head right now. Attend all relevant business and editorial meetings…”

“Okay, I can’t - I can’t do this right now,” your neck hurts. “Luisa, scrap that footage.”

“No can do,” Your producer responds. “We’re keeping that in.”

“What?” you cut your head to him and wince.

“In fact…” Luisa trails off, stepping closer to you and Spencer. “I think we should shoot the scribe here more often.”

“What?” you and Spencer ask at the same time.

“We’ll chat,” she tells Spencer. “Let’s get you some updated forms, a new NDA, and you’re gonna need some new clothes.”

“This shirt was five-hundred dollars,” Spencer pinches his polo. “What more do you want from me?”

“Luisa!” you interject.

“We’ll chat,” she touches your shoulder and walks off.

You sigh, pinching your neck and rolling your head back.

“You okay?” Spencer asks, reaching in to touch your neck, but you flinch and step back.

“I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m going home.”

“Want me to give you a neck massage?” Spencer asks. “We could add that to my contract.”

But you have professionals for that. You lay on a massage table, your favorite masseuse’s hands on your neck and Luke is standing in the corner, his hands clasped together, going, “Please, [y/n], please, please, please.”

“Lucas!”

“Pleaseeee. He’d be so good.”

“The boy has star power, [y/n],” Luisa chimes in and you groan. “You can’t deny it.”

“Do we have to talk about this right here? Right now?”

“I’m not quite saying we make him a regular. No,” Luisa continues. “But we get a few decent shots over the next few months, start off with that Elle debacle, maybe script a few more business disagreements. Oh, it’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you just offer him his own show?” you mutter.

“Well, y’know, the sexy broody genius thing is not a bad pitch.”

“Oh, he’d be so good!” Luke exclaims.

“Luke,” you sigh. “I’m begging you, just fuck him already.”

“Oh, p…please…like he’s interested?” he chuckles. “Why? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“That’s it!” you pop your head up and your neck cracks and you wince, “Fuck! Out, now!”

Nothing goes without your permission. Nothing is done, nothing is said. Nothing is written, nothing is signed. Spencer knows this. Yet, when he sits down to read and sign a new contract, he looks you dead in the eye and asks, “This is what you want?”

You avert your eyes, rub your neck without thinking.

“[y/n]’s already read over the contract, finalized filming schedules, updated your salary,” Luisa rambles and Spencer only gives her a quick, tired glance and looks back at you.

“This is what you want?” he repeats himself and he stares at you until he catches your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nod. “You’re already on camera enough. It makes sense.”

“It makes sense?”

“It makes sense.”

Spencer scoffs. It’s more of a huff. He glances down at the newly revised contract and shakes his head, “No.”

“No?” Luisa cuts her head to him.

“No,” he says to you. “No. I signed up to be a scribe, not some TV personality. I have classes, I have…goals. No.”

And you don’t say anything. But you look at him and you smile. Just a small smile, but he’s a smart boy and once he sees that smile, he stands. He leaves.

Luisa scoffs as she looks at you, her mouth open in shock. You drop your smile, purse your lips tightly.

You shrug, “It’s a shame I can’t fire him. He really is such a good scribe.”

He is. He knows his job description, he knows it well. He performs nothing more and nothing less. He authorizes the use of any film prior to the ill fated meeting and whenever he works, he thinks about that smile.

Hard as he tries, he can’t go unnoticed. He’s too pretty. Too…nonchalant. He’s not there to make friends, though the crew strikes up conversations when he can. He’s not there to get laid, though pretty girls and boys flock to him when he’s least expecting it. It’s obnoxious. The whole too pretty for the room thing. You don’t actually expect him to show up to the wrap party but he was explicitly invited.

Throughout the festivities, you massage the incessant pressure point on your neck, exhausted from doing nothing at all to put this party in motion. You’re there as a figurehead, an image to be photographed and immortalized. But your neck is fucking killing you. It’s the one thing that can kill the facade very quickly and it’s working overtime. You tuck yourself away in a corner and just across the room, Spencer is leaning against the wall, practically pinned underneath a tall, slender girl who drunkenly fiddles with the top buttons on his shirt. You can see the signs she’s spitting out from a mile away yet you don’t see him rejecting them. He even wraps his long fingers around her wrist and scrunches his nose up at her and whatever he’s saying is so funny that her laugh actually echoes.

With a vocal, “Ugh,” you roll your eyes and march to the bathroom, a single stall with a crystal mirror and a toilet that somehow sparkles. You splash water on your face and the cold grounds you just a bit. You rub the water into your eyes and press your frozen palm to the back of your neck. Blinking, you reach for a paper towel and press it into your cheekbones. It’s while you’re temporarily blind that you hear the door swing open. You gasp, coming face to face with Spencer who looks the most apologetic you’ve ever seen him.

“Oh! Sorry!” he implores. “Sorry. Thought it was empty.”

“It’s fine.”

He notices the way you lean on the sink, your head ducked down like you’re avoiding eye contact, so he naturally asks, “You alright?”

“Fine. I’ll get out of your way.”

But when you go to exit, he steps in front of you. “Woah,” His arms reach out to caress your shoulders but he stops himself so his hands hover over you. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Nothing,” you shake your head. “Clearly you’re having a good time so don’t worry about me.”

His eyebrows raise and furrow in such rapid sync with his confusion that his face eventually just falls flat. “Yeah…the fancy spring water is a real rager…”

“And all the girls.”

“What…” he stumbles, he laughs, “The…brunette?”

“Oh, that’s what you call her? It looked like you were already on a first name basis.”

“Her name’s Erica,” he shrugs. “But it wasn’t relevant to our conversation.”

“Oh, well, then, please. You and Erica carry on. Just avoid the vertical dry humping.”

“Oh, the…” he dissolves into chuckles. “You’re exaggerating.”

“It was pornographic.”

“And why does that bother you so much?”

It’s the first thing to actually throw you off guard because you don’t have an answer. So you shrug, “It doesn’t.”

“You sure?” he takes a step closer to you. “I don’t remember a no flirting, no dry humping and no sex clause in my contract.”

“Um, actually, it kinda is in your contract. It’s about the image.”

“The image? There’s people sniffing coke out there!”

“It’s tacky. It’s a PR nightmare.”

“Is it?” he takes another step and you instinctively step back even though he smells so good. “I mean, is that really what it’s about?”

“What?” you roll your eyes. You step back further but find yourself backed against the sink. “What are you implying?”

“That you think I’m pretty,” he grins.

“Ugh! Whatever.”

“That maybe…you wish you were the girl pressed against me? Not the brunette.”

“You are something else,” you shake your head. “Just so full of yourself.”

“I think you’re pretty,” and at the same time he murmurs the words, his hands run up your thighs. All the air leaves your lungs so you’re done talking. “I think you’re the prettiest girl at the whole party. Don’t you?”

His hands reach underneath your dress and when you don’t swat them away, when, instead, you stare him down and climb up to sit on the counter, he persists. “I knew you were the prettiest girl the second I met you.” He starts to rub you through the very thin material of your panties and you have to lean on your palms just to keep from falling back. You suck in a quick breath and exhale it with a soft moan. He grins, he presses against you a little harder.

“I just thought…” he kisses your cheek once, softly, and you all but melt. “She’s too tense. And you are, you’re too tense.”

You agree. By the way you’re rolling your hips against his hand, your body fully agrees.

“Can I push these to the side?” he asks, his fingers hooked onto your undies. He only hooks them further once you nod. He shudders at the feelings of his fingertips instantly drowning in an ocean of your own creation. Or…his? Either way, it’s nice and inviting. He shoves his fingers all the way into you and instantly, your thighs clamp down around his wrist. You release this strained moan before you clamp your hand over your mouth. Self satisfied and emboldened, Spencer starts to pump his fingers against your tummy and his dick is sooooo jealous. But this will do for now.

He wraps his arm around your waist to keep you right where he needs you. He peppers kisses all along your collarbone just so your muffled sounds are right beside his ear. Although his wrist aches at the angle and his veins are threatening to break through his skin, he never loses his rhythm or intensity. He presses his crotch against your knee but it’s too much, he doesn’t trust himself not to explode in his pants so he pulls away, counters it with a hard flick of his wrists that makes your body jolt.

And when the wave starts to roll over you, dangerously close to pulling you underneath, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. Spencer’s crotch lands in the warmest place possible and he realizes he’s gonna have to finish this fast before he loses his dominant aura. He follows the cues of your body and increases his pace and determination and you have to bite down on his shirt to maintain control of your volume. It all happens so fast that when you tense up, dig your nails into his back, Spencer’s mind struggles to keep up. He pushes his fingers even deeper just to feel the way your pussy tightens so perfectly around them and then he withdraws them slowly.

He rubs your back, gives you another kiss on the cheek as he wipes his hand on your thighs. He tries to help you pull your dress back down since all you’re doing is whimpering but you huff, “I’ve got it…I’ve got it.”

“Okay.” Spencer steps back to let you off the counter and you wobble as your heels hit the floor. “Not bad for a guy who can only type 70 words per minute, huh?”

You break a smile and shake your head, “This…never happened.”

He figured. Is it a fun thing to hear? No. But nothing could ruin his mood, not right now. “What never happened?” he shrugs and leaves the bathroom.

You splash more cold water on your face. Immediately after, you’re driven home where you have a nice, warm bath and the best night’s sleep you’ve had in a long time.

Where, for the first time in an eternity, you awake in the morning without any pain in your neck.

And it’s like it never happened. Spencer got the memo. He’s the scribe who’s primary duties include attending all relevant business and editorial meetings, document all verbal communication within said meetings, and fingering Miss [y/l/n] whenever she’s in the mood. He just hopes you’re in the mood soon.

He has no idea that you’re doing your best to keep him out of your thoughts. That your feelings are all scrambled inside since the dust was shaken off your g-spot. Every time you hear his name, your tummy caves in like it’s missing something it only had once. So when Luke says, “Would it be crazy to shoot my shot with Spencer?” you just say, “Yes.”

“But I know he likes boys. He’s always flirting with me.”

“You’re always flirting with him.”

“Exactly, so we should hunch.”

“Ugh,” you gag. “Lucas.”

“[y/n], I need him so bad. It’s driving me insane, do you have any idea what that feels like?”

Oh, yes. You do. “Since when is the lanky, scrawny nerd your type? Don’t you prefer them a bit more big and beefy?”

“Aha, see, that’s the illusion. The beefy muscle men get all the hype when in reality, it’s the lanky, scrawny nerds who can put you through the mattress.”

You scoff. You roll your eyes. But what a concept.

As if the universe knew you needed a distraction, you’re pulled into a PR crisis. Immediate damage control is required and when that happens, there is a very specific change of events that must occur and in a concise amount of time. Like world leaders preparing for war, you gather with your team and assume your Barbie position. As in, wherever you need to be, you’ll go. Whatever words you need to say, you’ll speak. And by the end of it all, you’ve ground your teeth dust and you can hardly swivel your head on your neck.

At home, you drink directly from a bottle of wine. Your mouth around the rim is necessary to live to fight another day. When your doorbell rings, you’re dubious that it’s one last command, coming in to stage and pose you in the required manner but it’s not. It’s Spencer. His tall frame looks so tiny on the front porch, a camera peering down at him from the corner. You open the door and he can see there’s no light left in you so he’s soft when he speaks, “Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Tough day.”

“Yeah…”

He invites himself in and you’re stunned but not surprised. You just close the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Just wanted to check on you.”

“You don’t need to check on me…” you shake your head. “I’m a grown woman. If anything, you need someone to check on you.”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“I’m fine!” you implore and the vibration causes an ache in your neck so you grab your shoulder. “Fuck…I’m okay.”

He sighs, “You know, you should really get that checked out,” and he touches your throat so lightly.

“It’s fine! I’m…you’re not gonna do this.”

“Do what?”

“Swoop in a-and end up inside me again. It’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“Spencer.”

“Why not? You had a nice time. I had a nice time. That’s…a-a nice time. That’s nice.”

“Eloquent.”

“You don’t even have to pay me for it. I’ll give it up for free.”

“You are…a child.”

“A…I’m 23!”

“Just a baby.”

“I can buy alcohol.”

“And my employee.”

“I can buy cigarettes.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“What else you got?”

“It would be a media shit show if word got out, you could end up suing me, I could end up being labeled a cradle robber, and for what?”

You are trying so hard to convince yourself.

“I wouldn’t sue you. And I wouldn’t tell a soul. And I would-I would do whatever you asked and whatever you needed and…”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you groan and with a careless force, you pull him in by his shirt collar and kiss him. He moans but it could just be the shock or the wine on your lips. Either way, he wraps his arms around your waist, his hand grabbing anything they can reach because holy shit! Being absolutely pathetic works!

“Come on,” you order and his feet scurry immediately as you drag him into your bedroom.

His first thought is that he’s never seen a bed this big but then he’s thrown on top of it and watching you undress.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims. He actually holds his face in his hands, his jaw dropped wide open.

You have to bite back your smile as you tear off your panties, step out of them. “Okay, hot shot, your turn.”

And he thrashes around as his pants fly off and then his shirt and then his boxers and his out of breath already. His entire body is so long, so pale, save for the red blush on his nose and chest. He reaches for you, his hand grabby and pleading. And as soon as you run into them, there’s so much commotion that the fitted sheet pops off the mattress.

Spencer is so eager that he forgets to purse his lips so every time and everywhere he kisses you, his mouth is wide open and wet. You can’t stop shuddering because he can’t stop groping you and his hands are big enough to spread warmth throughout your entire body. The rush is the only thing distracting you from his dysfunction but he’s vividly aware of his inability to get it up. The anxiety of finally having you is making him so insecure that his cock refuses to get hard. So he slides his fingers into you again but it’s nice because this time he gets to pin you down and watch your face. He gets even deeper than he did last time and you don’t have to be so quiet. It’s nice.

When you reach for his flaccid cock, he goes straight to eating you out because he’s not ready yet. He buries his face between your thighs and he starts off rough, pushing his entire tongue against you so you lose the ability to think. The trick, he suspects, is making you come. He grunts as you pull at his hair and scoot away from him because his mouth is just too much. That’s it. More, more, he needs more.

Once he gets past it, the anxiety, the nerves. Once he reaches the ideal maximum blood flow and his soldier stands straight up, once you roll the condom onto him so swiftly, he puts you on your back. He throws your legs over his shoulders and yeah, Luke was right.

Spencer puts you through the fucking mattress.

Afterwards, you’re upside down on the bed and wheezing like you’ve punctured a lung. You can’t even feel your legs. When Spencer starts kissing your angle, all the way up your knee, it helps you get the feeling back a bit. He kisses your lips, your cheek, your neck. He doesn’t want to stop.

“You okay?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you huff. You wipe the sweat off your face and nod, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Oh, now, that seems much more honest,” he grins and you can’t help but laugh. He’s quite proud of himself. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh.”

“What? Sure you have.”

“Nope. Trust me, I’d remember. You laugh much more on TV.”

You cut your eyes at him, tilting your head, “You watch my show?”

“Of course,” he shrugs, like this is common knowledge.

“You just don’t strike me as a reality TV guy.”

“Oh, well, thank you.”

You chuckle and prop yourself on your elbows, “Wanna take a bath?”

His eyes widened because he expected to be kicked out three minutes ago. But a bath? Completely unexpected and completely accepted. “Yes. Yeah. Yes.”

And in this bath, which is big enough to fit you both with room for one more, your bodies recover and your guard is down and you ask Spencer all the things you probably should’ve asked when he was first interviewed. Turns out, he’s a genius. Turns out, if you give him a chance, he’s funny. You don’t know if you keep inviting him back for the orgasms, or the fun facts or the laughs. Who cares?

He keeps coming back.

Spencer keeps coming back and each time, he’s nervous, but a little less than the time before. He’s great at still performing his scribe position like he hasn’t seen you naked. He’s still accurate and precise. He still has your back when executives don’t quite remember every clause of their contracts as well as he does. The sex. The baths. The time you eat Chinese food on the floor together. All of that is just a perk. Charge free.

You should’ve known it was doomed because it’d been weeks since you felt an ache in your neck. You should’ve known. The pain is your true state of equilibrium. The cloud you’ve been riding on was doomed to burst.

“What is this?” your publicist, Clara, asks as she sets a photo down in front of you.

It’s clearly Spencer, leaving your house at some ungodly hour, but you shrug, “That’s my scribe.”

Clara chuckles but it’s far from genuine. She glances at Luisa and back at you. “Mhm. What’s he doing at your house at one in the morning?”

Another shrug, “Scribing.”

“[y/n], what are my four D’s?”

“Oh, god,” you roll your eyes. “Clara…”

“You are required to tell me about all dates, dick, disasters and disagreements. That’s my rule.”

“Well…I forgot.”

“Yes, the dick option is well known for causing amnesia.”

“Paparazzi shouldn’t be allowed past the gate, that’s the whole reason I live there.”

“Oh, they’re not. A neighbor’s friend took this. Crazy inventions, those smartphones. They really make my job a lot harder.”

You sigh, “So…what do I do?”

“You gotta fire him, babe,” Luisa chimes in and it’s the casualty with which she says this that makes your head swivel, which it can now do with ease.

“What?”

“Look, I could’ve spun the scribe to lover storyline if he had let me, but he didn’t. Now, it’s not a good optic. I’m sorry, but pretty boy has to go.”

“Is that not more incriminating than just keeping him on?”

“He can easily be replaced. He’s a background character, it won’t cause commotion. Plus, if you wanted, this frees him up completely to be your boy toy.”

“Oh, my god…” you shake your head, put your face in your hands.

“Hey, plenty of scribes out there,” Clara shrugs. “Problem solved.”

Yeah, there’s plenty. But one like Spencer?

Never.

You go to his apartment with the full intention of telling him. You locate his address on file and take yourself to a neighborhood that you’d normally never frequent. You knock on his door and when he opens it, it’s only for a second before he slams it in your face. Stunned, you listen to the commotion on the other side. He is tossing clothes in the hamper, tidying up his bathroom, stacking books in some type of order to make them appear less scattered. This is as good as it’s gonna get so he opens the door back up.

“Hi. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t call,” you shake your head. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.”

You step into the small studio and it’s exactly how you pictured it. Tiny, cluttered, dark, but charming. Maintained.

“Can I get you anything? I don’t have that fancy spring water but, um, there’s tap.”

You chuckle, “No, thank you. This place is cute.”

“Ah, rich people speak for crap pile.”

Now, you cackle, “Nooo. No, not at all. It’s nice.”

He smiles as he wraps his arms around you. It’s so casual, so mindless. He’s so happy to have you here. You can see it all over his face. Feel it in the gentleness of his touch. So, you fuck him. For a while, you rattle around on his tiny bed so hard that his neighbor ends up banging on the wall. It’s spineless of you, to use your body to procrastinate, but you have to admit. It helps.

“Coffee?” Spencer offers and you haven’t fully landed from the stars yet so you give him a weak nod.

He kisses your forehead and springs into action, walking around naked in the kitchen. You pull his bed sheet around your body and keep a hold of it as you wander around his apartment. You check out all the photos and the books and the mess overrunning on his desk. You catch a quick glimpse of his assignments and all the numbers and big words hurt your brain so you salute him silently for managing it all. What truly catches your eye is the FBI logo buried underneath the chaos. You think it can’t possibly be the actual Federal Bureau of Investigation so you look closer. Despite the obvious invasion, you read through the letter.

You pick it up, your eyes flicking off the last word and over to Spencer. “What-what’s this?”

Spencer looks up at you with a smile but it quickly drops when he sees the paper in your hand. Awkward. “It’s…” he breaks eye contact with you. “It’s a job offer.”

“Oh,” you respond immediately but not for the reason he thinks.

“I-I…wasn’t sure I would be accepted. I’m not at all buff or tough or anything of the sort but, um…the behavioral analysis unit…it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Yeah…” you nod, floating over to him with the sheet hugging your body. “I could tell just from the stationary.”

He laughs, but it’s uncomfortable. He feels like he’s been caught. So you want to assure him. “You…want this? You want this job? You’d move to DC?”

He exhales a long breath out of his nose and he knows he has to look at you, “It’s a solid offer. I don’t see any reason I shouldn’t accept it. Is there…”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Is there what?”

“A reason I shouldn’t take it.”

Fuck. You want to say there is. Any reason. Any reason at all. But, “You should take it.”

Spencer feels like his entire chest just got cracked open. He can feel the ache in his sternum like he’s been shot. But, he just nods. He holds up a mug, “Coffee?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Informally, that night is his one month notice, even though he doesn’t come into work any more after that. He still gets two final checks. And severance. Major severance. That was your call.

The next time you visit his place, you don’t make it to the bed. His stuff is all in boxes, his bed doesn’t have any linens, his plane is taking off in the morning so there’s no time. You stand in the middle of the living room and hold each other tight. You smother each other with your lips, making out so passionately that you can hardly breathe.

Spencer has to take a moment just to catch his breath. Just to touch your face, “If…you ever find yourself in DC…”

You laugh. It’s sad, but you laugh. “You think they’ll let me into Quantico?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nods. “I’ll leave your name at the door. [y/n] [y/l/n], allowed entry any time.”

You giggle and you kiss him. And you kiss him and you kiss him. You roll around on a bed with no sheets and then you refuse to spend the night. If this is it, you demand to do it yourself. You demand to be the one to leave. You never say it out loud but Spencer understands. It’s the reason he doesn’t fight you on it. Instead, he hugs you. For an eternity, tight. Tight, tight, tight, tight. You can feel the pressure decrease as soon as he lets you go. You give him one last kiss. You whisper, “Give ‘em hell, pretty boy.” And he swears he will, just because you asked.

You walk out, you close the door behind you and almost immediately, you cradle your neck.

Author’s Note:

As always, thank you for reading!!! Please like, reblog, comment, all the things!!! Thought of this while I was binge watching Keeping Up With The Kardashians so this fic was entirely inspired by Kris Jenner randomly deciding to get a scribe to document everything she said. Been in the drafts for a while!! SingleDad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader coming up next. Love you all, stay safe out here! Mwah 💋

[smurphyse]

Cardinals | Spencer Reid

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 11 of Routine Maintenance

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Spencer head back to Thunderbird after your day out. Spencer gets a call from JJ.

The sun dipped down beneath the trees, the now familiar nighttime chill of Northern California starting to seep through the blanket. Honey snored quietly on Spencer's chest. She was drooling a bit, but he didn't mind. 

He'd been awake for a while, just watching the afternoon turn to evening. This stunning place enraptured him with its serenity. Nothing else seemed to exist besides the river, the fire, the wildlife that ran in the forest around them. Honey's breathing lulled him into a happy security, a calmness he hadn't felt in a long time. 

Spencer had his hand over hers on his sternum, the other running lightly over her ample backside under the covers. It all felt so natural, like this was right where he was supposed to be. Such a thought would have been terrifying a few weeks ago and sent him running for the hills. But at the moment, it only served to comfort him. After running for so long, the last week or so of sitting still and breathing in the salt air seemed to heal a part of him. 

The fact that his car was stuck in Rose's shop against his will only forced him to let it happen. 

I wish I could stay like this forever, he found himself thinking. It made his blood run cold. 

Here he was, in one of the most beautiful places on earth with a wild wonderful woman on his chest. Her soft moans and sighs echoed around his skull. The memory of her body pressed against his had burned into his mind forever, her trust in him making everything else fall away. The world was still, his mind was calm, and yet his heart began a panicked thumping. 

He couldn't stay here. Spencer didn't belong anywhere. He'd lost that right the second he picked up that gun the night before his mother died. Even without pulling the trigger, he became a ghost. He'd killed a part of himself that night. 

He actually liked Honey, and it terrified him. While he meant what he'd said to her about intimacy, it wasn't supposed to last and she didn't expect it to. She'd been through enough without becoming romantically entangled with him. Everyone he loved either got killed, died tragically, or somehow became broken beyond repair. 

But she's already broken, that small hopeful spark that lived in the back of his heart whispered. How much more damage could I do? So much more. He knew from experience that you can never break completely, but that doesn't mean there's a point in which it just stops. You just break in different places until you die. 

"What made you finally leave DC?" Honey's voice came. In his mindful terror, he hadn't noticed her wake. Maybe his petrified heart battering his insides pulled her from her slumber. 

Spencer swallowed thickly, but his body couldn't help but hold her a little tighter. "My mom died. She was the only one who needed me."

She kept her head firmly on his chest, almost as if to force herself not to look at him. Her thumb rubbed softly along his chest hair. Whether she was comforting herself or him, Spencer couldn't be sure. 

"Everyone here needs me," she whispered. It broke his heart. She sounded so small, like in one blink she might disappear. 

"I just want you," he offered quietly. "Whatever you want to give."

Honey slowly got up on her elbows to look at him. Her thigh still slung over his hips, and her wild hair glimmered in the firelight as the sun faded. "I don't think I've ever had a choice before."

She was ethereal in the evening glow. Like an angel that came down just to watch him in the darkness. Spencer didn't want to like her, didn't want to touch her again, but he couldn't stop himself. Maybe he didn't want to. He brushed back a stray curl and nodded. 

"Let's make the most of this, then."

She kissed him. Another broken piece of heart muscle glued itself together. Honey pulled herself away and got dressed. The piece broke again as he followed. 

They cleaned up their camp and headed for Thunderbird. It was still early when they got back, maybe five o’clock. The light was brighter here than in the forest, as the trees swallowed the sun in their thickness. Now it bobbed easily above the ocean, steadily making its way under the surface to disappear for the night. 

"A cardinal crashed into my windshield once," Honey said as they broke through the trees that separated the town from the rest of the world. "I thought he might die. Planned a funeral and everything, but he got up and flew away a day later."

She turned to look at him, "What do you think that means?"

Spencer shrugged. He liked the way she asked these types of questions out of nowhere. First about God and the billboards and now this. "I don't know much about them, besides that they're also called Virginia Nightingales."

She smiled at that, "My mom used to say that they were our passed loved ones coming to visit."

Spencer hadn't heard her talk about her mom, but from Rose's words and Honey's own, she'd lost her sister and her father was a bastard. Maybe he didn't want to know more about her family. 

"Maybe what he saw in the reflection was a better life."

She didn't say anything after that. Spencer walked Honey to her door, shoving his hands in his pockets. His sudden anxiety at his feelings toward her eased a bit under the fabric. 

"Dinner later?" Spencer asked hopefully as she went to unlock her door. 

Honey smirked and leaned on a hip, "You spent most of the last day with me, and you still want to see me tonight?"

"If sex is involved, definitely," he replied with a grin. She squinted playfully his way, and he shrugged, "I'm also just gonna get hungry later."

"I'll see you for dinner, then," she replied smoothly, then headed up her stairs without another look back. Spencer couldn't help but wait until she got to the top of the stairs to close the door behind her, eyeing her skirt and thighs in reverence. 

Spencer went into his room, smiling despite himself. He knew he was in trouble with this girl, but he was also leaving in three weeks. Even if he fell for her, he wasn't staying here. Being stuck here was likely the only reason he had the feelings he did. Forced proximity and all that. 

All he wanted to do was plop on the bed and fall asleep for a bit after the long drive, but the blinking of the landline on the nightstand caught his attention. It was an old answering machine with a tape recorder. He clicked the button without much thought and went about getting undressed for a well deserved shower. 

"Hey, Spence," JJ's voice filtered through. She sounded worried, like she always did when she called. Her voice shook, "I had a nightmare that I've had before again. You were seven, and helpless, angry as hell. You balled up your fists and I laughed at your swings…"

There was something about the way she spoke that made him stop in his underwear in the middle of the room. 

"Emily told us what happened. I'm not calling to ask if you're okay, even though all I wanted was to fly down and check on you myself. She says you're okay, that you just want time. I'm going to give you that."

Spencer's jaw trembled at the resignation in her voice, like she'd given up on him or seeing him ever again. He tried to distract himself by grabbing his suitcase and pulling out some pajama pants, but she wasn't done. 

"I thought this whole time that you were just running away. I thought you couldn't handle it, this life or your own… I realized something when I woke up this morning in a cold sweat." Tears came to JJ's voice. She sucked in a wavering breath and let it go. "I'd been staring at this hole in your chest that had been dug there for decades. I know you've always been at war with your bloodstream and the lies the FBI fed you."

Spencer sat down slowly on the bed, listening like his life depended on it. "I thought you'd find some way to fill that hole, or that we were helping you. We weren't. I should have been there when you needed a friend. But I was off on my own, we all were, selfish and stupid…"

Spencer held his breath as tears streamed down his face. Silently, they dripped down his cheeks and landed on his thighs. His heart cracked open. He let it pour out. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," JJ pleaded through the crackling speaker. "I can't say it enough. So, if you call me back or let me in… I swear I'll never let you down again. You're my best friend, my brother. I like to think I know the devil you've been fighting with, but I see now that I didn't give you the chance to just tell me about it."

She ended softly, but full of that maternal sisterly ferocity he knew to be true to who she was. "I love you. I'm ready to love you how you deserve. Whether you come back or not, I'm here. I'll always be here."

"Also, not to be nosy, but this nice woman named Mattie May answered when I called," JJ chuckled happily, her usual voice returning. "She said you were on a day trip with a girl named Honey. I'm not gonna tell you to go for it, but I hope you're having fun. I want you to be happy, so I just… I hope you're enjoying yourself."

The line clicked off. Spencer found himself laughing quietly all alone in his dark room. He loved JJ, and the team, he really did. There was just so much history between them all it seemed to do in the last few years was separate them further. 

It was time to open himself up to them again. 

Spencer picked up the phone. He dialed a familiar number, one he'd memorized the first time he saw it. 

"Jareau," JJ's voice came through. Spencer swallowed down the lump in his throat. It took a few moments for him to open his mouth. "Hello?"

"It's me," he managed quietly. He rubbed away his tears as a smile he hadn't felt in a long time creaked open on his weary face. 

"I love you, too."

Smurph's Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Notes: I missed these guys <3

Also, have you guy listened to any of the songs that these chapters are inspired by? Which one is your favorite?

@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 @moyo5653 @comfybabie @duds31 @trxshwriting @boimlers-gonna-boim @farfromthehomelands @cynbx

[hisonlyreid-er]

Our kitchen

Summary: Despite the horrors you both see in your job, the comfort of your apartment is a bubble away from the real world.

Warnings: a slight mention to cases involving gore, mostly fluff

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

Daily life was always a little different for you and Spencer. A normal couple may go on date night on Thursdays but for you, Thursdays are for catching serial killers in small towns. It may not be normal but it was just how it worked.

Having returned from a case yesterday, you and Spencer were allowed the day off today and decided to spend every moment of it attached at the hip. The day began with the two of you sat at the kitchen table. Spencer sat sipping his sugar with coffee while reading the paper and you sat nursing a mug of tea as you read the poetry book that has been waiting to be read for weeks. It was peaceful to just sit together, co-existing while doing your own thing.

The rest of the day was surrounded in a simple peace. You both went about your tasks, smiling as you crossed paths every once in a while. As you walked towards the kitchen to make lunch, you bumped into Spencer who was headed to the bathroom. His hand rested on your waist as you both looked at one another. " Fancy seeing you here." He smiled down at you. You released a little chuckle and stared at him with a goofy grin that you couldn't fight off anymore. "Such a coincidence Dr Reid." His eyes sparkled with love as he stared at your smile, never wanting this moment to end. He leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your lips while grinning before moving back. Just as you were about to move from his hold, Spencer gave a simple kiss to your forehead, his nose nestled amongst your hair. He took in a small breath through his nose and savoured the smell of coconut that was left from your shampoo. After standing there for a little while, you decided that it was time to carry on with your tasks and slipped from his grip. Walking down the hall, you were unaware of Spencers gaze following you as he stared with adoration adorning his soft feature.

The rest of the day flew by and now all that was left to do was cook dinner for the two of you. It was a task that you loved doing together. You both settled into your routine, Spencer began cooking the sauce while you boiled the water for the pasta. Everything as almost done when you let out a small shriek, hands gripped you from behind and pulled you back into Spencer body. He gave a slight chuckle and spun you round. You were so close that you could feel his warm breath fluttering against your cheek.

One of his hands left your body, reaching for something on the counter behind. All of a sudden music started playing from the speaker. The tempo was slow and the melody was soft. Spencer started swaying slightly with you still in his hold. He brought his face next to you ear, " May I have this dance?". You could feel your face flush a bright red at his words and all you could manage was a little nod. His hands became glued to your waist as your arms drapped over his shoulders, hands clasping behind his neck.

And you stayed like this for the duration of multiple songs, moving with one another to the music, staring into the eyes of the love of your life. In you entranced state, neither of you had noticed the pasta boiling over the side of the pot. You spotted in over Spencers shoulder and realised it had burnt. " Spence, the pasta.." was all you could manage before he turned his head and came to the same realisation. You released him and turned the gas off. Both of you looked at the ruined pasta and simultaneously burst into laughter. After deciding that it wasn't worth cooking anymore, Spencer suggested take out and you happily agreed.

You ended up on the couch, cuddled against his side with a box of pizza on his lap. Enjoying this moment was the priority because there was an understanding that you'd be called to deal with another monster soon enough, but for now this time was yours. For now, he was yours.

[hoshihiime]

Calling all Spencer Reid/Reader fans who are stuck on inspo

Take these notes I wrote a few years ago if you need BDJWVDJAJS

[lunarsaturn88]

Baby Booties- Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Imagine telling Spencer Reid you’re going to have his baby.

@thefandomimagine

Warnings: Fluff

Words: 1013

You took a soft breath as you looked at the sonogram that you had in your hand. You had always suspected that something was wrong with you when your period never showed up on time for the last few months. But you always thought that it was the stress of the job that you were in. Because you had missed periods before when it came to stress. This was the last thing that you expected though. 

You didn’t expect to be pregnant with a baby that belonged to your boyfriend Spencer. Someone that you kept a secret about as much as he kept you a secret. Neither of you wanted the rest of your friends to know that you were dating let alone sleeping with one another. 

But you now supposed that there was no reason to hide this from Spencer. You needed to tell him the truth and soon. What worried you was you weren’t sure if he wanted a baby with you or not. You could only hope that he did want the baby with you and remained by your side to raise the child that you created together. 

Your heart rammed in your chest as you carefully put the sonogram into your purse as you headed to your car. You had to come up with some way to tell him the exciting yet nail-biting news of the baby. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~  * ~ 

You carried a present into the BAU biting your lower lip softly worried that he might not like the surprise that you had for him, but you needed to show him. You had gone out of your way to make this box up to surprise him. You just hoped that he would be accepting of the pregnancy. 

You walked off of the elevator into the room seeing the workers bustling around making sure that their work was done for the day.

JJ saw you come in and walked towards you. “Y/N I didn’t think that you would be in today with your appointment with the doctor.” 

You smiled a soft small smile. “I didn’t think that I would finish in time either.” You admitted softly grasping the box a little tighter in your hands. “Where’s Spencer?” 

“I believe he went to get a coffee. He should be back shortly.” JJ looked at you slightly concerned. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said softly looking at her. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?” 

“You just seem a bit…”

“I promise I’m fine JJ.” You said offering her a small smile knowing that she was rather worried about you, but you didn’t want to give away the surprise that you had for Spencer. You saw Spencer coming from the break room with his coffee in hand. A small smile came to your lips as you walked towards him. 

“Y/N… how did your appointment go?” Spencer asked with a concerned gaze that he tried his best to keep hidden from the other profilers in the room. 

You smiled softly seeing the love and adoration in his eyes. “It went fine.” You said softly as you carefully put the present down on the desk. “Got you something.” 

“Y/N you didn’t have to,” Spencer said slowly picking up the present off of the desk. 

“Oh, but I did.” You said coyly as you looked at him. “Just promise me you won’t think the worst?” 

“Why would I do that Y/N?” 

You bit your lip softly unsure of the whole thing. You could only hope that you were right on this whole thing. 

He slowly began to unwrap the box that held your surprise in it. He moved the ribbon off of it putting it down onto the desk before removing the lid. His brows pinched together when he was paper in it first. He slowly removed the thin paper to see a pair of baby booties. His brows pinched together as he carefully lifted them out of the box. “Um… Y/N… what are these for…” 

You chewed the inside of your cheek in worry. Perhaps he didn’t get it yet and that was something that worried you. “Keep going.” You said softly.

Spencer moved the booties to his desk before slowly taking out a white shirt that seemed like there was nothing on it. He carefully unfolded it and saw what it said. ‘Daddy of a baby genius.’ His brows pinched together as his head shot up to look at you. “Y/N… are you…” 

Your lips quirked into a small smile before nodding your head. “Yes.” 

Spencer put the box down not caring if anyone would see what happened next. He moved quickly towards you wrapping his arms around you before his lips met with yours in a sweet kiss. 

“Whoa…” Morgan said stopping in his tracks and seeing the two of you kissing softly. “Pretty boy got game.” He saw the shirt and let out a soft chuckle. “Alright, more game than I thought.” 

Spencer rested his head against yours softly. “That’s why you had been sick on some days.”

“I wanted to make sure that I was one hundred percent on this.” You admitted softly. “I am sorry that it took me so long to tell you the truth… I always had an inkling.” 

JJ looked at the two of you slightly gobsmacked. “Y/N is pregnant?” 

Spencer slowly looked at his best friend and nodded his head. “Yes…” 

“And how long has this whole thing been going on?” Morgan questioned pointing at the two of you wondering how long the two of you had even been together.

You looked at Spencer before letting out a soft chuckle. “Three years what in June?” You questioned looking at your boyfriend. 

Spencer’s cheeks flushed and nodded his head. 

“Oh damn… I owe Penny money now.” Morgan said with a groan.

Spencer laughed lightly knowing that there most likely had been quite a few bets made, but none would even make it this far of pregnancy. 

“No more betting Morgan, haven’t you learned, that Pen has a knack for these things?” You teased softly.

[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.”

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

[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.

[hufflepuffsandghosts]

The Costume Contest

Plot: Garcia has made plans to host a Halloween party at the BYU office after a stressful mission. Little do you know that you and your best friend have the same plans in an unexpected way. (Friends to Lovers, Fluff)

TW: slight mention of alcohol

The streets of Quantico buzzed with excitement as Halloween approached. Agent Spencer Reid couldn't help but feel the festive atmosphere of the crisp cold air and the smell of stale leaves. He normally found himself buried in case after case at this time of year, however, his good friend Garcia and Y/N had managed to convince him to attend a Halloween party at the office after a case. “And remember..” Garcia said, sternly, “…you HAVE to wear the costumes that will be provided by either myself or Morgan.” She gave a wink to the both of them, Their faces blush with anticipation as to what they might be.

As Halloween night arrived, Spencer found himself in front of BYU, nervously adjusting the costume that Morgan had him put on and making sure not to ruin any of the makeup Garcia did. Morgan chose Victor Van Dort, from Y/N’s favorite movie “The Corpse Bride”. They watched it together almost every Halloween, it was almost tradtion at this point. But surely a change might be good for both of them, especially after the case the crew just worked on. A typical serial killer basing her kills off of Michael Myers. Which took hours of work on all fronts in order to bring justice to the lives that were lost. As Spencer glides into the building he sees the big gathering in the office and stops. Time seems to slow down at the sight of Y/N, Her makeup done to resemble a blue corpse, with stunning Fx’s and a torn-up white bridal gown, dirtied with mud and coffee stains to make it seem older. She was Emily, his Emily. As the rest of the team look they are greeted with admiration and applause for their perfectly coordinated costume.

Y/N smiles, walks up to him, and holds out her hand. “Looks like we make a great pair, don't we?”

Spencer Chukled nervously, “I guess we do.”

The night was filled with laughter and joy. They danced, played games, and enjoyed each other's company like they always have done. They were, as always, in perfect sync, easily understanding each other in games and humor.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to get some drinks for the two of them, leaving Spence to talk to their other colleagues. As she walked to the bar she overheard two other people dressed as Barbie and Ken.

“My money’s on them becoming a real couple by the end of the night.”

Y/N blushed. There’s no way Spence would reciprocate her feelings right? What they had was something special, sure, but there was no way that she would want to ruin their relationship.

When she returned to Spencer’s side, she noticed he was engrossed in a conversation with another agent and dear friend, Derek Morgan. Spencer appeared somewhat distracted, but as soon as he saw Y/N, his eyes lit up.

‘Hey, you,” he said, smiling.

“Hey,” She replied, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach caused by his smile.

Eventually, the party’s host announced a couple's costume contest. Spencer and Y/N exchanged amused glances. They hadn’t really planned for this, but now they were unexpectedly part of the contest.

Y/N started to fidget a little, and with Spence noticing he leaned and whispered. “We don't have to do this if you don't want too, sugar.” Y/N looked up and blushed, noticing how close they were to each other faces, She smiled softly. “Why not? Could be fun.” He nodded, both their hearts fluttering with anticipation.

They stepped onto the makeshift stage, and the crowd cheered for them, standing together, shoulder to shoulder, hand grazing each other until Spencer held Y/N’s hand gently. When it was their turn to present themselves, Spencer couldn't help but get caught up in the moment.

“Hello, everyone. Sorry about this but I would like to make a small speech.” he paused, looking at Y/N before looking back out to the crowd. “Tonight, we honor the spirits of the past and I could of think of a better partner to do that than with Y/N,” he said, his voice sincere and filled with kindness.

Y/N eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat. She kept our composure and added, “We may not have planned this, but sometimes life surprises you with the best of partnerships.”

The crowd erupted into applause, and Spencer and Y/N won the contest hands down. They were awarded a cute trophy, which they shared as they posed for pictures together.

As the night wore on, everyone ended up sharing ghost stories and Spencer, in his natural enthusiasm, explained some historical context behind the tales, captivating everyone in the room. After the party ended and they all said their goodbyes, Spencer walked Y/N back home to her apartment. Hand in hand, still basking in the glory of the evening. Underneath the full moon, they shared a few lingering glances and smiles that spoke volumes. When they both arrived at the doorstep, Spencer hesitated for a moment before speaking. “You know Y/N…I didn't realize how much I truly enjoyed your company, and just how special you are to me,”, he admitted, cheeks flushing.

Y/N nodded, her heart now pounding. “Spence, you are so incredibly special to me too. More than you know-”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence Spencer leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. It was a sweet, tender moment. Y/N pulled back a bit, smiled, and asked “Do you want to come in? Watch some corpse bride with me?”

Spencer grinned, “of course, I would love that.”

All content © hufflepuffsandghosts 2023. Do not repost, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[fandom-alley]

Strangers On Vacation | Part 2

Summary: Spencer convinces reader to go to the pool with him, where she meets his co-workers who try and convince her to spend the rest of the cruise in Spencer's room. (This is a really bad summary of this chapter sorry lol) Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem Reader Content: Fluff, angst (ish) eventual smut. Warnings: negative body thoughts, mentions of alcohol, low self esteem but shes working on it (pls let me know what i missed, i wrote most of this like 3 months ago and only skimmed for spelling mistakes lol) Word Count: 4k Part One also on AO3 masterlist

I awoke the next morning to the delightful aroma of freshly brewed coffee. For a second my brain imagined that John had brought me breakfast in bed, before I opened my eyes and remembered the events from yesterday. I was in some strangers room, still in my bikini, with the dress bunched up around my hips from a night of restless sleep. 

I pulled the dress down and was smoothing my hair as the stranger walked back into the room from an adjoining door which I assumed to be the bathroom. I did remember that we were on the top floor, most definitely in an expensive room. It was three times the size of the room I had gotten for John and I. With 2 full size king beds and what looked to be a separate living space through an open door on the far wall. Plus a spacious balcony outside to my left. 

“Good morning,” the stranger said when he noticed I was awake and sitting up. “I have coffee ready in the next room, as well as some breakfast. Eggs, bacon, sausages, pancakes and fruit. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

At the mention of food my stomach decided to remind me that I hadn’t ate since breakfast the day before. And now that he mentioned it, I could smell the bacon wafting into the room as well.

“Oh, um, thank you,” I didn’t know what else to say.

“The bathroom is right in there. I’ll be in the other room whenever you want to come eat.” He gestured to the doors as he spoke and moved towards that open doorway where I had suspected the other living space would be. He stopped in the doorway and turned his head to look at me and said, “My name is Spencer, by the way.” 

“Y/n.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He replied and then softly closed the door.

I took a moment to take in more of my surroundings. Spencer had a pretty spacious room just for himself. No other belongings seemed to be in the room besides his. Half the closets and drawers remained empty, and only one side of his bed looked to be slept in. Why did he need such a big space all to himself? Who was he to afford all of this?

The bathroom was no different. Spencer was very neat and organized. His toiletries lined up perfectly on the left side of the counter, and inside the shower his supplies sat neatly along the built in shelf. I dug out my own bathroom bag and vigorously brushed my teeth, washed my face and tied back my ratty hair. I wasn’t about to strip and take a shower in this mans bathroom. I thought about changing out of my bikini but I did want to experience at least one of the pools on board the ship before I got off at todays dock, so I left it on.

True to his word, Spencer was sat on the couch in the next room, flipping through the pages of a book at an inhuman pace. My nose dragged me over to a small kitchenette where a catering cart was placed with more breakfast food than two people could eat. I grabbed a mug of coffee and a plate that I loaded with strips of crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and a fluffy pancake. 

When I was halfway through eating I could feel eyes on me and looked up to see Spencer gazing my way with a small smile on his face. I realized I was eating like a starved animal and slowed down. But then my thoughts again went to yesterday. Would Spencer also think I was disgusting for eating this much food? With only a few bites left on my plate I lost my appetite and pushed it away. 

Why was I thinking these thoughts? I didn’t even know Spencer, and I would be leaving him soon anyways. Plus these thoughts had never crossed my mind until John’s accusations last night. He had just successfully gotten into my head. I didn’t want him to ruin the only day I would be having on this ship, so once again I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and went to clean up my dishes. 

“So, thank you for the place to sleep last night. I’ll be getting off the ship today so I’ll just take my stuff with me to the pool in the meantime and get out of your way.”

“Are you sure? You kind of sounded last night as if you had some more plans,” Spencer said.

“Well, I did. But they’ve been cancelled and I’ll be getting off early,” I replied, trying to avoid specific details.

“What about your other friends?” Spencer pressed on. “They won’t miss you, or think you’ve gone missing since you didn’t show up last night?”

It was hard to avoid his pointed stare. I didn’t want to go into details about my messy breakup that happened less than 12 hours ago, but Spencer’s stare was so soft and concerning. He looked genuinely worried for my made up cruise ship friends thinking that I might have fallen overboard or something.

Spencer hadn’t done anything to make me not trust him so far. Besides not knowing anything about him, at least. But he gave off vibes of an old soul. Someone you could trust, who would have your back no matter what. Deciding that I owed him a little bit of truth as well after all he’d done for me, a stranger, I sat down across from him in the living space and told him most of the truth.

“There are no friends,” I said, to which he scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion. “I made up that story last night because you were a stranger inviting me to your room when I was in a vulnerable position and I was scared you would murder me or something.”

Spencer was speechless, staring at me with his mouth agape and blinking as he processed my words.

“The truth is,” I continued, “I was supposed to be on this cruise with my boyfriend. But I broke up with him last night and I was hoping to switch rooms because obviously I didn’t want to spend the next week stuck in a windowless room with him. Which, off topic, but how on earth do you have this whole suite to yourself? It must have been so expensive.”

I waited patiently as Spencer gathered his thoughts for a reply.

“I’m sorry to hear that” he started off saying. “I was trying my best not to come off as a creep. My friend and I overheard you at the front desk, and she made me come ask you to stay with me because of the extra bed.”

“Why isn’t your friend staying with you?”

“She has her own room, with her husband. We’re here on a mandatory work vacation.” That made me laugh, and Spencer cracked a smile as well. “Ok, I can admit saying that out loud sounds like a rouse, but I promise you I’m here with work.”

“Oh, so your work company is one of those people who booked up a big chunk of rooms then, aren’t they?” I smirked.

“I guess so, yes.”

“So, if your coworker friend was allowed to bring her husband, how come you didn’t bring your partner?” I tried to make it sound like I wasn’t prying on his personal life, but let’s be real. I was.

“I’m single, that’s why.”

I nodded my head in reply, looking everywhere around the room except for at him.

“Where do you work where they can afford to put everyone in the most expensive rooms on the ship?”

“The F.B.I.” he said matter of factly.

“Shut up. You don’t work for the F.B.I.” I denied. Spencer just nodded and pointed to a badge on the coffee table that I somehow did not notice earlier. Sure enough, there was his smiling face, Dr. Spencer Reid of the behavioural analysis unit. 

“Taking vacation is mandatory, but none of us ever really book it off so the department booked a week long trip for all of us,” he explained.

“Oh, so the bad guys just take a break as well when you’re gone?” I joked.

Spencer gave a light laugh, “We have other departments filling in for us while we’re gone.”

We sat together in silence, Spencer thumbing the pages of his book, neither of us knowing where to take this conversation to next. 

“Well,” I eventually said, “Spencer, thank you so much for your hospitality. I’m pleased to know that you’re not a creepy axe murderer. I should get going though. I want to take advantage of one of the pools before I disembark and hopefully not run into my ex.” 

I stood from my seat across from him and went to make my way into the bedroom to gather my things. 

“Oh, right.” Spencer trailed behind me. “You know, I have access to the vip area’s. There’s a lounge and a pool, and most likely no chances of running into you ex. Then you can leave your stuff here instead of dragging it around. Someone might steal your bag if you left it unattended at the pool. Or they might think it was a bomb.”

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip as I pondered his suggestion. I wanted to turn down his offer, he was being too nice to me after we’d only just met. But the thought of running into John at the pool in my bikini, the very one that started our argument that led to the breakup, was enough to make me accept.

“That would actually be very nice, Spencer. Thank you.”

“Of course. Let me just get changed and we can go. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, if you want,” Spencer offered. I watched as he grabbed some clothes from the closet and locked himself into the bathroom. Not wanting to stand around in the bedroom like a lost puppy, I followed his suggestion and went to the kitchen to look through the cabinets. They were empty apart from a few boxes of granola bars, and the mini fridge was stocked full of water bottles so I snagged one of them to put into my pool bag.

Soon after, Spencer emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of dark purple swim shorts and a black t-shirt. It was distracting to see his arms and legs for the first time. He was hiding some seriously toned arms underneath that long sleeve shirt of his. And his legs seemed to go on forever, he was so tall. In his arms he held two pool towels that the ship provided to guests, and he handed one to me that I put into my pool bag.

Spencer grabbed his own bag, a brown satchel, and made sure he packed his book and grabbed his room key from the coffee table. It was a bright and shiny gold colour, indicating its vip status. My previous room key had just been white with the cruise ships name written in a dark blue cursive font.

“We might run into a few of my co-workers, if that’s ok with you,” Spencer informed me as we made our way outside his room. He made sure the door was closed behind us then we were on our way. I had no idea where we were going so I trailed half a step behind Spencer, which wasn’t hard since he walked fast with those long legs. 

“Oh, not a problem at all. There’s nothing I want more than to be surrounded by F.B.I. Just so you know, I’m well over 21, so don’t arrest me if I order a drink,” I joked.

Spencer laughed along with me. “There won’t be any arresting, I can promise you that. It’s nearing noon, I’m sure most of them are on their second drink by now.”

I felt bad at the mention of Spencer’s friends having fun without him, but I refrained from commenting. Something about Spencer told me he liked the quite more times than not.

It didn’t take us long to make our way towards the vip areas. I would have never known this spot on the ship even existed if not for Spencer. He scanned his gold card to open up the door, and then we were in. Right into the spacious lounge, with a shiny bar on the left, lots of comfortable seating and a grand piano in the centre of the room. No one was sitting at it right now, but there was some soft music playing over the speakers. We walked through onto the deck, and I was stunned by the view.

We were at the very top of the ship. All I could see around us was the open blue waters. I knew we would be docking later this evening, but wherever that piece of land was, it was not visible to us yet. Looking over the side of the railing, I could see the pool on the main deck. This was the one John wanted to go to last night. I didn’t spend that much time spying on the people from up here, just in case I caught sight of him. Although from this high up, it was hard to make out details. 

As Spencer and I made our way around the deck looking for open chairs, someone called out his name. With a glance to me and a nod in the persons direction, I followed behind him as we made our way over. The call came from a gorgeous blonde, looking effortlessly like a model as she relaxed on her lounge chair. She pushed up onto her forearms as we reached her, a wide smile on her face as she looked between us.

“Spence! Is this the girl?” She asked. The girl? 

“JJ, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is JJ. My friend I was with last night who convinced me to ask you to take my extra bed.” Oh, it clicked into place now. This was one of his co-workers. The one with the husband, who apparently wasn’t around right now.

“It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for pushing him to ask me. He found me later on and I relented, which I’m glad I did. Those beds in the vip suites are so comfortable.”

“Oh good! Spence here didn’t want to intrude, but he’s always the one with the extra bed when we’re at hotels, so it felt like a good option. Come one, take a seat! The other’s are just hanging around the bar.”

I followed JJ’s orders and sunk into the lounger beside her, and Spencer chose the one on the other side of me. He immediately pulled out the book he was reading early this morning and started reading at that inhuman pace again. After only a few minutes of basking in the sun I was getting too hot. The vip section was great because there were only a few people bobbing around in the pool, so I decided I would join them. 

“Ok, I need to get in the water,” I informed my two new somewhat friends as I sat up. I pulled my pool towel out of my bag to set on my chair, ready for easy access whenever I got out of the water. 

Thoughts of John’s comments about my body threatened to sneak back into my mind again and I locked them away. I was never one to feel self conscious about my body, and I did not want to start now. So, with a deep breath, I removed my bikini coverup dress and bunched it up to shove into my bag.

“Wow, Y/n. I love that bikini, it’s so cute! Where did you get it?” JJ immediately asked.

“Oh, thank you. I just stumbled upon it at the mall. I felt it gave off nautical vibes that would be fitting for a cruise,” I chuckled. 

“It looks so good on you. I’ve never been one to pull off lot’s of colour,” she gestured to her own black two piece that was stunning on her slender frame. “Wait until you meet Penelope. She’ll be down after lunch, she’s a colour fanatic. She’ll love you!”

“I can’t wait to meet her. Anyone coming in the water with me? Spencer?” I turned to look at him and found him already staring. Tinges of red stained his cheeks, probably from the exposure to the sun and heat. 

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Maybe in a few minutes. I just want to finish my book first.” He said, very intent on not looking anywhere but my eyes.

“Alright, well, you know where to find me.”

I tried to feel confident as I walked towards the water, but it was like I could feel eyes all over me. When I reached the edge of the pool I turned around, but couldn’t see anyone looking. Spencer was leaned over whispering with JJ, refusing to look my way. 

I stepped into the pool, not even caring that the water was a bit cold. I just wanted it to be up to my shoulders so that I could feel hidden. So much for those self conscious thoughts not overtaking me. Most people in the pool were just hanging around the edge chatting to their friends, so I swam to the far side where no one was around and started to swim laps, back and forth. 

It was meditative. The feeling of the water rushing over my body started to calm me down, and I ran over lists in my head about all the great things about myself. Like my ability to swim multiple laps of a pool without getting tired, for one. Or my skills in baking. My small client list was always supportive and excited when they picked up their weekly treats from me. There was also the fact that I was a strong woman. I had spent my entire twenties fighting to prove to my family that I could make it on my own. That I didn’t need to be some stay at home wife to a husband who expected me to bend over backwards for him. They truly didn’t leave me alone until I moved to Virginia and met John. Because they assumed I would drop everything and ‘let him take care of me’. 

Okay, now these calming pool thoughts were starting to become angry thoughts. I took a pause from swimming laps to lean against the pool wall. Thankfully my brain was interrupted from overthinking by Spencer finally swimming over to join me in the pool.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked me as he leaned against the wall beside me.

“They’re nothing interesting. Your friend JJ seems really nice.” I told him to change the subject. Both of our gazes drifted off to the side where she still lay on the pool chair. A man walked up beside her and handed her a drink before leaning down to give her a kiss.

“That’s her husband, Will.” Spencer informed me. Soon after Will had taken a seat beside his wife, a few other people joined. Spencer was in the middle of explaining to me that they were his other work friends when I noticed they were all staring at us.

“Spencer, why are they looking at us?” I interrupted him and turned around to avoid looking back towards the crowd of people. Spencer shifted his body to look back towards the edge of the pool and gave a sheepish laugh.

“Uh, probably because I’m in a pool with a beautiful girl they’ve never met before,” he said. My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. I was shocked to hear one like that after only knowing the guy for less than 24 hours. He looked just as shocked that it came out of his mouth if the red tint to his cheeks was anything to go by.

I chose to ignore how awkward we both felt by his statement and attempted to move the conversation forward.

“What, they’ve never seen you in a pool before?” I joked.

“Actually no, they haven’t.”

“You’re kidding.” I said, but he shook his head. 

“I’m known to be a bit of a germaphobe. Pools hold a lot of bacteria and things that I don’t even want to think about,” he shivered. 

“Gross, but I’m honoured you joined me in here. It was getting kind of lonely. But what do you say we get out and you introduce me to your friends?”

Spencer nodded his head eagerly, clearly happy to have an excuse to get out of the water. Lazily, we swam back towards the pool stairs. I climbed out after Spencer, and was met with eyes of multiple people on me as we walked back to the chair to get our towels. It was a little unnerving, but the small smile Spencer gave me as he handed me my towel distracted me from how nervous I was feeling in a bikini around these strangers.

He was so distracting. The tips of his curly hair were dripping with water onto his face and shoulders. I watched as a particular drop rolled down his collarbone, gliding its way down his chest and over a nipple. Why did I want to follow that trail of water with my tongue?  

A not so subtle cough broke me out of my trance. After I wrapped my towel around my body I looked at the new people standing around our chairs. Most of whom had just witnessed me staring right at Spencer’s nipples. They introduced themselves to me. 

Emily, Luke, Penelope, David, Tara, and Matt and his wife Kristy. Will introduced himself as well.

Spencer was about to explain who I was, but I beat him to it.

“Hey, I’m Y/n. Spencer rescued me last night when I had no where to sleep. I’m leaving when we reach the port today, but he invited me to the pool first so I could at least experience some of what the cruise had to offer.”

There was a jumble of nice to meet you’s and how are you’s as everyone spoke at once. But then someone talked over everyone else.

“Why do you have to leave? Just enjoy the rest of the cruise with us!” It was Penelope, pushing her way in front of everyone to come over and give me a hug. 

“Oh, thank you for the offer.” I spoke into her hair as she clung to me. “But I shouldn’t. I don’t want to impose on Spencer for that long. It was so generous to lend me a spot to sleep last night, but this is his vacation. All of your vacations. I don’t want to intrude.”

“I don’t think he would mind. Would you, wonder boy?” Penelope laughed, finally letting me go with a look to Spencer’s direction.

“Plus,” Emily stepped forward. “It would be nice to hang around someone from the outside. Someone we don’t see every day.”

“What, are you sick of us already?” David joked.

“You know what I mean.” Emily said.

“Wouldn’t everyone love to have Y/n around for the rest of the week?” Asked Penelope. 

There was a resounding yes. I couldn’t believe these people I met just minutes prior were trusting enough to want to spend 6 more days together. I looked to Spencer, expecting him to say no thank you, please leave. But he was giving puppy dog eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and I couldn’t say no to that face.

“Well, I guess so.”

His friends cheered, resulting in a nearby group of people to look over at the commotion. 

“Come on, let’s go celebrate with a drink!” David said, and put an arm around my shoulder to steer me towards the bar.

“I definitely won’t say no to that.”

[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

[hisonlyreid-er]

Everything She Had

Summary: Sometimes Spencer has a rough day, sometimes you do too. Both of you are each others comfort.

Warnings: mentions of stress, being overwhelmed and loneliness.

Spencer Reid x nonBAU!reader

"And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality...."

People. The sheer greatest foe for both you and Spencer, but for entirely different reasons. Spence hates trying to navigate the 'norms' such as handshakes and not relaying facts. It made him dread meeting anyone new. You, however, hate the fakeness and pressure people push. It makes you want to throw hands with everyone who gives you so much as a dirty look. That's why you are perfect for each other, Spence doesn't confront people when they are being bitchy and you do. That's why he admires you with such gravity.

Spencer had returned from a tough case and you had gotten back from work at the law firm. He spent the entire case treading lightly around everyone because tensions were high. You spent the whole day rushing files back and forth, doing everyone's job as well as your own. That stress meant that you didn't even clock the fact there was an extra car in the buildings parking. You didn't even notice the lights on when you got to the door of your joint appartement or the familiar coat on the rack once you opened the door.

Shrugging off your coat, you kicked off your shoes. Spencer stood at the end of the hallway, waiting for you to notice him. He always told you to be more vigilant and if he hadn't missed you for over a week, he may have told you off but he just couldn't. Spence watched you drop everything at the door before running a hand down your face in a tired motion.

Someone behind you cleared their throat. You spun around in fear expecting to find a murderer but instead caught the sight of your love. He just stood there with a goofy smile, watching you. " Spencer" Your voice caught in your throat and your feet began to move towards him. Your pace began to increase as he opened him arms in a welcoming display. Trusting Spencer completely, you jumped at him. Wrapping your arms round him neck, burying your face in him neck and your legs enclosing him waist. His hand flew beneath you to hold you up.

That's how you stayed for god knows how long. Holding each other. Allowing the stress of today to be washed away in the presence of the other. Spencer held on tightly, not wanting to let you go ever again. You held onto him as if he might just disappear if you didn't keep him there. The whole time you were apart was riddled with longing nights and disappointed mornings. It broke his heart every time you had to wake up alone, go through a stressful day alone, eat alone. You hated everyday he was chasing killer, not knowing if you were going to get the call to tell you he'd be injured or worse. But it was times like these when all the worries were washed away and you didn't want to take that time for granted. You didn't want to take him for granted.

Spencer had 3 days without work. So, for 3 days, you laughed with each other, ate together, read together, did everything together to make up for the time lost while he was away. Those 3 days flew by and before you knew it, there was another case lined up. But even with all this time apart, your relationship stayed strong because you knew Spencer would come home one day and you'd have time for just each other. That's why you chose each other. That's why you'd always choose each other.

Because for her, he was everything she had and for him, she was everything he ever wanted to have.

"...I'd find you and I'd choose you,"