#Spencer reid/reader

[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.

[beelmons]

"Come on, up." Spencer commanded as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Five more minutes, dad." you muttered, your eyes not even opening. Reid scrunched up his nose in rejection to the nickname; considering the many things he had thought about doing to you, he would be seriously concerned if you had started to see him as a father figure. Even more so when you guys were close in age.

"Not up for discussion." his arm slipped undeneath your body to pull you up, enough to have you sitting.

Your eyes forced themselves open, barely, and you could finally make up the figure that was handling your limp body like a rag doll. "Reid?" you said as you watched him arrange something on your night table "What are you doing here?"

"Hotch said you called in sick" he began to explain "You weren't picking up your phone, so I decided to stop by and drop some soup, but you were burning hot when I found you." he explained. You then noticed that the things on your nightstand were a bowl filled with cool water and a makeshift rag he had made with an old shirt. "I managed to lower the fever, but I really need you to take these."

Once he was done, ha handed you a glass of water and a couple of pills that looked like ibuprofen. You let out a raspy cough, followed by a sniffle. You looked like hell and felt like so. You had given him a key for emergencies, you had one to his apartment as well, and Garcia's, and Emily's, just a little dynamic the group had cooked up when it came to checking up on each other.

"Thank you." you answered embarrassedly. Being alone was hard, having to constantly look after yourself, knowing that if you didn't do it, no one else was going to. Nothing that you couldn't handle, of course, but you always secretly wished that someone would come to your aid, that someone would notice that keeping yourself well was not really your forte.

"You hadn't taken anything, had you?" he asked with accusatory eyes, and you pursed your lips in embarrassment.

"Rest is the best medicine." you lamely tried to excuse yourself.

"Mhm" he hummed "So is oseltamivir." he took the glass away from you once you had downed the pills and set it back on your night stand. Gently, he grabbed at your shoulders and pushed you back so you could return to your laying position. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me, okay?" he got ready to stand up, but your hand quickly, yet weakly, reached out for his wrist.

"Actually," you muttered with slight shyness "could you stay for tonight?"

A small smile drew on his face and his hand twisted to hold yours instead. "Always."

[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.

[fandom-alley]

Rekindling at the Spa

18+

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader

Category: Fluff, smut (like hardly though)

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

Word Count: 3.7k

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

Also on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s so cold,” Y/n gasped out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[starogeorgina]

All mine

Warnings: Swearing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

1.02

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

“Uh no, not yet.”

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

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

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

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

You nod.

“We slept together nearly three months ago.”

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

“Have you told anyone else?”

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

“How many tests did you take?”

“Twelve.”

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. So what’s our plan now?”

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

“You’re staying with me?”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[smurphyse]

One Way Mirror | Spencer/Hotch/Alvez

Smurph's Masterlist

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

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

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

So, you usually ended up here. 

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

The one with the one way mirror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course I do."

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smurph's Masterlist

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

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

@louderfortheback @pandabiiissh @calebye

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

[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.

[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.

[eideticmemory]

SCRIBE | SPENCER REID

You: I need someone to document everything I say.

Spencer Reid: Done.

Word Count:

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 spot, 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 💋

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Dinner Time

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

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

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

Word count: 1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or something too hot.

“Honey?”

Bite four, five, and six. He chewed.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?” Bite seven, eight —

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

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

“Are you that tired?”

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

“It’s not your fault.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s going to get cold.”

“I’ll heat it up again, don’t worry.”

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

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Liqueur of You (S.R.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer, please.”

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

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

“Please,” you keen again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…” you whine.

“Good girl,” he answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[beelmons]

The downfall of Spencer Reid

(An interactive story, choose your ending)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit, 18+, minors are discouraged from interacting with this story. Summary: This is just smut, you f*ck Spencer senseless, or does he f*ck you? That's up to you! A/N: This is an interactive story! There are four different endings, you get to choose what you do or don't do to Spencer! At the end of the post you will find different links, each link leads to other posts and a continuation to the story depending on the choice, some choices won't allow you to come back, so be careful with what you pick! A/N 2: I cooked this up as a stupid idea. Posts on the options are not up for reblog as to not spoil other people reading the story. I do not know if this format is at all good, but let me tell you something, I had one hell of a time making it, it was super fun, let me know what you think and if you have feedback, tell me in my asks! Thank you to @cassiemartzz​ and @ihavemanyhusbands​ for always cheering me on on my writing <3 

Everybody knew the downfall of Spencer Reid had a name and face. He would always portray himself as the nerdy genius boy that wouldn’t hurt a fly, always innocent, ever naive. Until you came along and showed him the wonders of life. Most importantly, the wonders of a sex life. 

His world was turned upside down, he had become your servant, loyalty at your mercy, doing as he was told just as long as he got access to the sweet relief of your body. People around him knew that you had put a spell on him, because everyday at 6 o’clock sharp he would be gone, and god himself couldn’t find him, because he was gone to be lost in you. 

It was friday night and, as per usual, your hands were already roaming around your boyfriend’s body. You had memorized every curve, every sensitive spot, yet nothing compared to the thrill of having him in the flesh, and mind you, you decided a great way to welcome him back home was wearing nothing but a bra and a matching set of panties when he walked through the door. Within seconds of your reunion, you had him pressed up against the wall of his apartment as he let himself be devoured by your lips in any way you desired. Your teeth sank onto the skin of his neck and you heard him whimper in pleasure; as a reaction, his hands reached down to give your ass a rough tug forward, his hips rolling to let you feel his imprisoned erection.

“Eager, babe?” you pulled back to look at him. He was still clothed, his work shirt disheveled from having your body rubbing against it during the make out session. 

“You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to have self control” he complained, but his wording came out as a praise. 

“I have so many ideas to please you tonight.” your lips were on his once again as you spoke, your breath heavy with lust as you kissed. 

“Do whatever you want with me.” he muttered, his tongue immediately massaging yours the second he was done speaking. The sincerity in his voice was piercing. He needed you, right that moment, to touch him, to please him. As you wanted to obey his wishes, your fingers threaded south to undo the button of his jeans, knowing full well that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

So many options, so little time, what will you do to him? 

Tease him a little bit longer

Take him straight to bed

Use him to please yourself first 

[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,"

[fandom-alley]

Sun Kissing

Summary: The BAU team just finished a case on the California coast and were rewarded with a couple days off for vacation, so Spencer's girlfriend convinced him to spend the day at the beach. Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem Reader Category: Fluff, slight bit of angst with Spencers feelings towards the beach Warnings: 13+, kissing/making out in public, slightly inappropriate thoughts in public Word Count: 1.6k AO3

“Are you sure about wanting to go to the beach? You do know we’re probably going to get sand in the food, potentially a sun burn which heightens your risk of melanoma, and not to mention the drug resistant bacteria that’s spread through seagull feces.” Spencer said with a glance down to his girlfriend, who stood beside him looking out at the ocean with a smile on her face.

“Spence, I’m sure. Remember half an hour ago when you told me we could do anything I wanted with our extra day off, and then when I said ‘are you sure, what if it’s something you don’t like’ and you told me you’ll like anything we end up doing because we’d be doing it together? This is what I choose. And we’re already here. I promise you I can help you enjoy the beach.” Y/n said back.

“I’m not sure,” Spencer said, biting his bottom lip in hesitation. 

“Okay, how about this. Give it at least an hour, and if you’re really hating it we can just go for a stroll on the boardwalk and get some ice cream,” she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Spencer always had trouble saying no when she gave him this look. Head tilted back so she could look up at him, brown eyes wide and reminiscent of a puppy, with a small pout. Usually she gave him this look when she was trying to convince him to order take out or to watch one of her favourite movies. And it was always a resounding yes, even if that movie was Mean Girls, and for the 5th time in a row. But they had never been to a location one of them had disliked before, so this was new territory for them.

“Okay. I can accept this compromise, but I make no promises,” he agreed with a sigh. Y/n jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands together like a kid who just received the best birthday present ever. 

The excitement that y/n found in even the smallest moments was something about her that made Spencer just fall in love so much faster than he was used to. When she first started working for the BAU, covering JJ’s role as the media liaison, he was instantly infatuated. He liked to think he hid it well, but Derek would poke fun at his crush any chance he got.

When JJ came back from maternity leave and he saw her sitting in  y/n’s chair, his heart skipped a beat. Thinking that he had missed his chance, that JJ was back to re-fill her roll and he would never see y/n again. Until she walked out of Hotch’s office five seconds later with the biggest grin on her face that he had ever seen. 

Everyone in the bullpen had stopped to watch as she stood outside his door, jumping and squealing as if she had just found out she won the lottery. But really it was Spencer who had won, since she had been in a meeting with Hotch where he was offering her a full time position, thanks to JJ being promoted to a supervisory special agent.

Spencer asked her out that night, and they had been together ever since. 

Now, Spencer held onto her waist as she rose up on her toes to give him an excited kiss after saying yes to the beach.

“Come on, it’s not that busy we can get a good spot down by the water!” She grabbed their two bags of beach supplied while he grabbed the small cooler full of drinks and snacks, then she led the way down the sand towards the calming blue waters.

He only tripped on the uneven sand a few times before y/n found a spot on the beach that was to her satisfaction. He watched as she dug out a big blanket and shook it out, placing it onto the ground and securing two corners with their bags. He placed the cooler on the third corner, and his shoes on the last. 

Spencer had to admit, when he wasn’t thinking about potential bacterias in the sand, the warmth of it really did feel nice between his toes. 

He took a seat on the blanket, watching as his girlfriend unpacked all of her beach essentials. Her Kindle, sunglasses, a small pillow to rest her head on while she tanned. And an umbrella that she aggressively stuck into the sand, casting their spot in a shadow that Spencer was grateful for. It wasn’t the hottest day out, but the sun could burn you even behind the clouds.

Spencer didn’t bring any of his books to the beach, not wanting them to get covered in sand that would inevitably make its way back to their hotel room. Instead he opted to people watch. Or more specifically, girlfriend watch. His eyes were drawn away from the water and towards her when she started to take off her clothes to reveal her bikini. A deep red with white stripes, it reminded Spencer of a candy cane and it made his mouth water.

She caught him looking at her chest, and when he didn’t look away, she smirked. 

“Spencer, get those thoughts out of your head, we’re in public,” she laughed. 

“What thoughts?” He asked innocently, finally looking to her eyes, and at the quirk of her eyebrow he gave in. “Sorry. But it’s hard when my girlfriend is most beautiful girl here.”

Y/n blushed and glanced around at the other people dotting the beach. Given that it was the middle of a work day in May, it was mostly young families and retired old couples walking up and down the sand for their daily exercise. But she took the complement in stride. 

“Keep buttering me up like that and we’re going to be leaving earlier than an hour and skipping the ice cream as well.” Y/n leaned over Spencer, bringing herself closer to kiss him. 

They might have been in public, but Spencer couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in closer as he got lost in their kiss. Y/n nipped at his bottom lip, sending a shiver down his spine. He ran his hands along her body, enjoying the feel of all her skin thanks to the small bikini. They came to a stop on her butt, which felt as if there was no fabric there at all thanks to the style that she chose, so he squeezed. She let out a quiet moan, which fuelled him even further. Shoving his tongue in her mouth with a new fever, he tightened his grip on her butt in preparation to pull her fully on top of him, but before he could they were interrupted by a kid screaming not too far away.

Y/n broke away, panting, as she looked down the beach at the kids playing. Nobody was giving them any dirty looks for so much PDA in public, but Spencer still let go of his hold on her, guiding her to lay down beside him as he put her arm around her instead.

It took a few minutes for their breathing to return to normal, both of them with their eyes closed enjoying the warmth of the sun on their bodies. 

“I think I could enjoy the beach,” Spencer broke the silence. Y/n propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

“Yeah? So does that mean we can stay longer than an hour?”

“Actually, after the hour I was thinking we could go back to our hotel room and have a different kind of fun,” he smirked at her, lazily running his fingers up and down her arm. 

“Oh! I like that idea,” Y/n blushed, thinking about reenacting what they just did on the beach but in the privacy of their room, and continuing on without any interruptions. “But first we’ve got to make the most of the beach. Let’s go for a swim!”

She jumped up off the blanket and Spencer watched as her hips swung while she ran towards the water. 

“Come on!” She stopped a few feet before the water, turning back to yell at him. “Take that shirt off and come for a swim with me.” Then she spun back around and ran into the ocean until she couldn’t run anymore, and dove in. 

It had been a while since Spencer had been in the ocean, or even a swimming pool, and he kind of craved the feeling of being weightless in the water. He pulled off his shirt and ran to meet her. It was cold and a shock to the system as he dove into the water, but it helped cool off his thoughts of what he would be doing to her an hour from now. 

They didn’t go in too deep, which made it easier for Spencer to sneak up behind her and lift her over his shoulder. Y/n let out a yell as he spun around and tossed her into the water. 

“That’s not fair, I can’t lift you like that,” she said when she resurfaced. Then as he was distracted about to apologize she splashed him with as much water as she could manage. Which wasn’t as much as he probably could have done, but it was enough to get some of the salty water into his mouth. 

Y/n laughed as he spit it out and wiped the water off his face. But then he was on her in a second, tickling her sides and making her squeal in laughter.

“I surrender, I surrender!” She managed to say between breaths of laughter. Spencer stopped his attack and pulled her into his chest for a hug.

“I love you.” He said with a kiss to the top of her head.

“I love you too. Thank you for enduring the beach for me,” Y/n said, squeezing him a little bit tighter. 

“Anything for you, my love.”

Thank you so much for reading!

[starogeorgina]

All mine

Warnings: None

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

1.01

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

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

“I don’t really like sweet things.”

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“Hey Quinn, aren’t you coming?”

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

“Yeah, just coming,” you croaked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t… well it’s complicated.”

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

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

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

“Spencer is the father.”

—

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

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

“Yes, Spencer.”

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“Josephine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m pregnant.”