#Spencer smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gladiatorcunt · 24 days ago

Text

- IF YOU GOT TIME, THEN I GOT TIME

baby just relax and ride

cw: unedited, MDNI 18+ content, fem reader, blowjobs underneath the misletoe, season 9!spencer reid, piss kink mentions, dubcon somnophilia (like they didn’t talk about it but he’s into it), slight obsessive behavior (from reader), pregnancy mention, reader’s sensory issues, scent kink, one implication of pseudocest/incest kink, soft dom!spencer at the end, borderline cock slut reader, an age gap if you squint

note: title & subtitle from use your heart by swv.

please do not copy, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinkmas

This isn’t your first Christmas with Spencer, but something just feels different about this one. It snowed all night; the flurries might even still be going this late in the morning. You’ve convinced your boyfriend to take some time from work, he’s gone after his job with BAU like moth to a flame, but you had to tell him that it’s early still in his career (you use that excuse even though it’s been almost a decade since he’s started there). It wouldn’t hurt to be out of the office so he could enjoy the holidays with his very supportive and stunningly attractive partner.

You’re still riding the high of getting a breathy chuckle out of him as leaned over your side of the bed to reach the phone, making the call.

This Christmas morning is your time to suck the life out of your pretty boyfriend, his first gift of the day.

You reach down into the pocket of your sleep shorts and pull out a small piece of mistletoe. You’re already cringing a bit at yourself, but you’re stifling giggles as well. It takes every bit of your focus to creep back into the master bedroom after groggily doing your morning routine (even though your minty fresh breath is going to be replaced by the smell of Spencer’s cum).

The brown plush carpet sinks beneath your feet as you step towards the bed. Spencer’s sound asleep, he must be really exhausted if all your shuffling around and bumping into shit hasn’t startled him awake. You’re normally the deeper sleeper, your mouth leaking drool onto the pillow under your cheek. Spencer made a mini photo album of all the times he’s caught you like that; you teared up when he thought you would’ve flown off the handle.

His recently cut hair is smushed against the pillow and in that moment, you think you’ve beaten the grinch. Your heart grows a million sizes too big and throbs in your ribcage. Every day you’re surprised to rediscover just how much you can love somebody, how much of their love you can hold inside you until you burst.

Your breathing pattern stutters, suddenly it’s all you can think about as you gingerly climb onto the bed, a somewhat awkward left knee first approach. Spencer’s lanky limbs are sprawled over enough of the bed for you to have to squint so you don’t skewer than poor man. You forgot to put your glasses on the nightstand, and they must have fallen in between the mattress in the headboard while you slept, fuck.

“Spence.” You whisper, testing the waters.

“Spencer, big brother.” You whisper louder, using a nickname that you know your boyfriend likes more than he lets on.

His nose scrunches up, but he makes no sudden movements. You breathe a sigh of relief and peel back the covers, planting your right knee into the bed and bringing the left over the bunched-up fabric. You pull the green comforter & sheet set over your shoulder and scoot closer until you’re able to be in the middle of his spread legs.

Your vision is significantly darker now with the covers practically obscuring your head, but you swear you could pinpoint Spencer’s crotch in a room full of cropped underwear modeling photos.

You can tell that he’s wearing the pair of white briefs you bought him because you like how the style enhances his small ass, they smell too fresh to have been worn a decent amount of time. You’re excited for when the musk will start to come through, but Spencer’s extremely on top of washing clothes, both yours and his. You have to earn his sweat and grime.

Another day, maybe even later today after you open presents. It always makes you happy to get something that takes the stressful look off Spencer’s face, which snowballs into you getting turned on and trying suck him off right then.

You hold the piece of mistletoe above his crotch and dip forward to kiss the tip of his cock through his underwear, a habit of yours that Spencer finds so endearing. You can hear him call you cute even if he’s deep asleep, he’s probably praising you in his dreams anyway.

You check to see if he’s woken up, lifting the covers just enough to peek through. You dive back under when Spencer only scratches his nose in his sleep and grunts.

His underwear comes off slowly, you’re not trying to spoil the surprise too soon. Each of his ankles receives a tender peck as you guide Spencer’s briefs off and set them by your knee.

You don’t need light to know how pretty your boyfriend’s cock is, the full bodied thwap it makes against his stomach already has your pussy throbbing. You pick the mistletoe back up and hold it above him one more time, but over his balls instead, a 2 for 1 deal just for him. They’re so full and hefty in your mouth as you suck on them one by one, french kissing his sack. Your heart hurts for him, it must be painful to be so pent up.

Spencer hasn’t taken the recent lack of sex out on you, not when it’s his job that keeps his cock out of your pussy more than anything else. That’s another reason why you’re doing this, you’ve learned that you have to make time for each other if you hope to still be in a relationship, and this is you doing that. Your knees hurt, bent too far for too long, but nothing’s gonna take your mouth off his hardening cock, maybe not even him. You’re aiming to be the perfect little wife; everybody knows the number one job of a perfect wife is anticipating your husband’s needs and bending over backwards to fulfill them.

You take a hot second to mash your nose against his shaft and breathe in deeply, the faint scent of his body wash mixed with the natural odor of his body settles into your jowls and coats your tastebuds. You should’ve brought a bottle to store a few drops of his sweat in your purse for the times when you need a sweet little treat. You wouldn’t need your vanilla musk perfume oil if you had that, but you can reign your obsession in, you don’t need to go crazy on Christmas.

Fuck, he smells so good you could cream your panties on the spot. You’re not one of those girlfriends who bite the shit out of their boyfriends, no, you just have to huff Spencer like he’s a sharpie you could get high on.

You lick up a stray drop of his piss, dotting kisses back up his shaft until you return to the head. The mistletoe you brought in is crumpled under your knee as you wiggle around and adjust your stance, popping your ass out a bit more. It’s annoying to have to maneuver under the covers to suck him off properly, but you’re stubborn as hell and insistent on Spencer being the one to eventually peel back the covers.

You curl your tongue around the underside of his tip, and you hear a muffled groan above you. Merry Christmas, indeed.

A smug smile unfurls across your face, you close your lips around his head briefly in brief slurps, an imitation of a wet kiss. Your toes curl when his taste washes over you, another wave of barely-there soap as well as spine tingling musk, his middle of the night bathroom trip has left a few linger traces of piss too. And well, like a kitten with a bowl full of milk, you lap up that shit. Spencer doesn’t have this unrealistic, perfectly clean dick that some people would expect, he has pubes and a perfect natural scent and sometime his cum’s too tangy. If he insists on you never having to shave or be afraid to pee in his mouth, then it’s only right that you give him the same talk.

You flatten your tongue and drag you face up and down his cock, something that’s not meant to please him directly, you just want to degrade yourself on occasion. For Spencer you’d do things that would make God spontaneously combust, and Spencer’s mind would be blown in all kinds of ways.

You let the drop of precum that peeks out trickle down, stroking your boyfriend’s length, spreading it and slicking him up just enough. You dig your twinging knees into the mattress and tap his cock against your tongue. One, two, three. When you get more sleepy sounds from overhead you start to slide your mouth down on his cock, nestling it back in it’s home away from home.

You sit there for a moment, letting the atmosphere sink in. You’re convinced you can hear the snow falling outside, and the faint white glow of your living room christmas tree lights can still be felt even from under the sheets. You swallow around the length in your mouth, emitting a hum that’s closer to a strong whisper.

You try to say you love him, but you honestly forget your mouth is full of cock, so it comes out thick and muffled. You curl your right hand around the base and caress the skin there, an “I love you.” for his cock too. You slide that hand down to play with his balls and you lift your head up, the sheet scratches your scalp as it moves with you.

You give him a few pumps, suckling on the tip. Spencer’s right leg kicks out, twitching. Hearts bleed in your eyes as you swallow him back down, knowing you must look so pretty with your lips split around his hard dick. Tears bud at your waterline, you’ve trained yourself out of the brunt of your gag reflex, but you think you’ll always have a little tickle in the back of your throat and several tears that threaten to spill over.

You do wish Spencer were awake to chuckle softly and brush each one away his thumb, anchoring you to him.

“Why are you crying? You’re okay, you’ve taken it before, you’re taking it so well now. Shh, there we go.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you press your nails into his thighs, as far as you’re concerned sucking your boyfriend off into oblivion is the only thing you were put on this earth to do.

Spencer moans, a sleepy and guttural sound as he stretches, that brief tension you get in your body before you melt into goo. Your heart rate picks up but you keep up what you’re doing, humming and keeping your teeth away from his shaft as you bob your head up and down.

Your mind runs in so many different directions, but it’s so quiet now. When he’s awake Spencer adores when he can see you softly drift off like this into a certain headspace, hazy and surrounded by his body. You adore taking a plunge into the deep end, proving that you love him by putting your heart on a spike.

You cradle his balls in your palm, rolling them around as you let his cock flop out your mouth with a wet pop. You grasp his shaft in your other hand to steady it and tongue his slit, your clit pulses whenever another spurt of pre hits your tastebuds.

You moan and kiss the base of his cock, swiping your tongue out for little licks.

The sheets rustle around you, brushing against your skin until they’re not touching you at all, because they’re being lifted. A flood of warm lighting illuminates your cock sucking.

You don’t have the proper awareness to be nervous or afraid of his reaction, you mewl mischievously in greeting and drag your tongue up the couple of faint veins along the sides of his cock.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” Spencer rasps, settling a hand on top of your head, never dissuading, only handling.

Your pussy clenches around nothing as you rock your hip backwards, drinking up every drop he had in his balls, but the emptiness gets you going too. Forcing yourself to wait, holding out, starving yourself of cock. It’s almost religious, putting yourself through suffering with the expectation of being rewarded.

You have to look in his eyes so you can cum, and there’s something about the way the corners of them crinkle as you cream your panties that spawns nursery design ideas.

The rock that sits on your ring finger by lunch sparkles in the light of your phone camera, nestled in Spencer’s pubes, hand curled around his dripping cock, mid stroke.

The gift that keeps on giving.

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imaginethat-imnotawriter · 3 months ago

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Spencer Imagine

***MDNI***

So this is my first post. Disclaimer: I am not a writer. I am just a girl with dreams. I do not take responsibility if this is terrible, but I hope you read it anyway.

TW: situationship, angst (happy ending), you get a migraine, platonic nudity, nonplatonic nudity, fingering (I think that's everything.)

This story has smut, but it is mostly just plot and dialogue. I rate it one 🌶️/5 Spencer is absolutely pathetic in this, so if you like princess treatment, you may like this.

Word count: 12,673

Enjoy~

Spencer sees as you make a beeline for your desk while avoiding making eye contact with anyone. He decides to walk up to you, grabbing your forearm and turning you around to face him.

"What's wrong?" He whispers.

"Why does it matter?" You retort.

He crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. He was trying to be cautious with you, but seems like this is not the situation for that.

"Because you're acting strange and I'm concerned about you." He replies, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

You look at him but turn back to your desk. "Go show your concern to the witness you seem to find so enrapturing. I wouldn't want to waste your time" You roll your eyes, your jealousy on clear display.

He stops dead in his tracks, knowing exactly what you're getting at.

"You're jealous of the witness?" He asks, sounding a bit amused.

"What? No way. Why would I be?" You say in an angry voice.

Spencer laughs and leans on the desk next to yours.

"You are jealous that I was talking to the witness, aren't you?"

You stand up abruptly ready to take your leave and clock out early to get out of this situation, but Spencer grabs your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"Come on, I was just playing around..." He says, the playfulness in his voice gone, replaced with a hint of guilt.

Your breath comes out in pants, feeling uncomfortable in the situation. "Honestly, I don't know what I'm feeling right now" You confess, still looking around for a way out.

He watches you carefully, looking at the way you're glancing towards the exits.

"It's okay, I'm sorry if it made you upset" He says, loosening his grip on your arm, his thumb rubbing circles slowly, trying his best to soothe you.

You turn away, unsure of how to continue this awkward conversation. He gently grabs your chin, making you look back at him, feeling his own anxiety rise at your uncharacteristic response.

"Hey, talk to me... please" He asks gently, meeting your eyes, his brown eyes filled with genuine concern.

"She's into you. The witness." He sighs at your response, dropping his hand from your chin.

"I know that she was flirting with me...obviously" He says, seeming a little annoyed with the fact that you think it's necessary to point out a truth he is already aware of.

You give him a look of carefully concealed rage, the feeling slipping into your voice. "Then tell me, why were you humoring her?"

He furrows his brow, not appreciating the look you're giving him. "I was just being nice, it's what I do" He says bluntly, getting a feeling that he's walking into a trap.

You scoff turning your head away from him. "Unbelievable."

He grabs your chin again, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Unbelievable? You're the one getting all jealous over some witness who happened to be flirting with me." He retorts, matching your incredulous tone.

"YOU FLIRTED BACK!" you shout.

"I was being friendly!" He snaps, getting a little bit irritated with you. "And besides, what's it to you? I'm not in a relationship, I can flirt with whoever I want."

"You know what, you're right. I'll be leaving now." You turn towards the elevator, making large steps to get there quickly. "I don't need to be around this."

He watches you walk away for a few moments, feeling a mixture of annoyance and confusion, before following after you. "Hey, wait!" He calls out, rushing forward to grab your arm again to stop you from entering the elevator.

"Let me go," You say in annoyance, ripping your arm out of his grasp. "Go back to your new escapade, you're wasting your time with me."

He lets go of your arm, feeling a pang of guilt. "Just give me a minute" He says, a hint of pleading in his voice.

You huff and give him an incredulous look. "For what? Do tell."

He sighs, taking a step closer to you. "I don't understand why you're getting so upset over this" His usually soothing voice wavering with frustration.

"Some genius" You say hearing the elevator ding and watching the doors open, feeling slightly relieved at finally finding an exit.

He watches your gaze turn towards the elevator, and he quickly steps closer to you. There's a mixture of annoyance and desperation in his eyes, almost as if begging you to stay. He hesitantly grabs both of your arms, pulling you away from the elevator. "Can you stop for a second and talk to me?" He asks, his voice cracking with frustration.

"You said you were being friendly, what else is there to say Reid?" His name leaves your lips in a hiss, your anger at him clear in your tone.

He flinches at the way you say his name, not used to such unconcealed vitriol, but continues anyway.

"Do you think I was being flirty with her because I want to be with her?" He asks bluntly, his hands still firmly holding onto your arms.

"What does it matter? It has nothing to do with me" You pull away, pressing the button for the elevator again, making sure it doesn't leave yet.

"Nothing to do with you?" He repeats, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "You're getting jealous over me, you're trying to run away as soon as things get complicated, and you're saying that none of this has anything to do with you?!"

"You made it quite clear that I have no stake in this. You aren't in a relationship. Do whatever you want" You reply tiredly, your fight leaving you, the urge to cry starting to creep up. ‘I need to leave fast’ you think.

His heart sinks at your words. He knows he's been stubborn, but seeing you give up makes him stop and reconsider his actions.

"Wait-" He says, gently tightening his grip on your arm. "You do have a stake in this, okay? I'm sorry for being so-" He's cut off by his own guilt, looking down at his shoes for a moment.

"So, what?" You say, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but feeling foolish for doing so.

"So stubborn. So careless. So stupid..." He mumbles under his breath, guilt lacing his words. "Can you please just listen to me?" He asks, his voice hoarse. He lets go of your arm and gently grabs your hand, holding it in his own.

"I suppose careless is one way of putting it. I know I don't mean anything to you, but you don't have to rub it in my face like that." You turn around again and slip into the elevator pulling your hand away.

He sighs in defeat, watching you pull your hand back and enter the elevator. He looks down, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realizes all the mistakes he's made. Suddenly, he makes a split-second decision. As the elevator doors begin to close, he quickly slips through them, stepping inside with you and quickly slamming his hand against the 'stop' button.

"Reid," You say, refusing to call him by his first name on principle at this point. No use in using formality when he was so cold to you today. "What do you think you're doing?"

He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours. There's a mixture of desperation and guilt in his usually neutral expression. "I'm trying to stop you from running away. From me. From us. I messed up, okay? I was selfish and careless and I do care about you" He says, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

You scoff, but refuse to reply.

He continues, noticing your reluctance to respond. Spencer takes a hesitant step closer to you, his voice getting more and more desperate. "Yes, I was being friendly with the witness. But no, I was not flirting with her. I was just being nice, doing my job. And do you want to know why?"

You still refuse to speak but meet his gaze anyway.

He takes another step closer, the distance between you both getting smaller. "Because I like you. Actually, no, I don't just like you, I more than like you" He confesses, his eyes begging for your response, for some sort of reaction.

"You sure have a terrible way of showing it" You respond, still feeling the pain in your heart.

Spencer steps even closer again, his eyes full of guilt and remorse. "I know, I know I do. And I'm sorry-" He stops himself, taking a deep breath before continuing, the words pouring out of him like he's releasing them for the first time. "Do you wanna know why I don't tell you how I feel? Why I always keep it to myself? Why I just watch you walk around everyday, without ever telling you how much I want to hold you, how much I want to kiss you..."

"Reid–" You say again, wondering where he's going with this, but not yet ready to give in to him.

He continues, taking another step closer, his words getting more and more passionate. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of losing you, losing what we have. I'm afraid that if I do say something, it'll change everything. I'm afraid you'll wake up one day and realize that you deserve someone more stable, less damaged... someone who doesn't have my mental baggage, who isn't as emotionally stunted as I am." He finishes his rambling, the picture perfect image of desperation.

You almost roll your eyes at him, but refrain. "Reid. You know very well how I carry just as much mental baggage as you. If you think I can't handle yours, then what does that say about me? We're all damaged here. The only reason I want to run is that you keep pushing me away in such painful ways."

He listens to your words, his heart clenching with guilt. He knows that he's been pushing you away, hurting you even when he doesn't really mean to. He feels foolish for letting his own fears and insecurities get in the way of something that could be wonderful. Spencer closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before slowly reopening them and looking at you. This time his eyes are filled with sincerity, and there's a touch of vulnerability in his voice. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to push you away. I'm trying, I really am-"

You give him a skeptical look "Are you?"

He nods rapidly, his gaze locked with yours. He seems almost desperate for you to believe him. "Yes, yes I am. I'm just... I'm not used to this. To admitting how I feel-" He sighs, looking down for a moment before quickly meeting your eyes again "I need you to believe me when I say I care about you. I care about you so much it scares me"

You sigh and look off to the side, still unwilling to believe his pretty words. Especially since his actions have failed to prove him reliable. This situationship has gone on too long and you have finally hit your limit. Either this ends with him taking you seriously, or it ends ugly.

When Spencer sees you looking away, he feels a pang of anxiety. Is he losing you already? He takes another step forward, so close that he's practically towering over you, though his presence feels non-threatening. He gently puts his hand on your cheek, turning your head so you're looking at him again.

"Please, please believe me. I don't want to lose you..." His voice breaks, showing the vulnerability that he usually tries so hard to conceal.

"I'm too weak for you Spencer." You finally call him by his first name. "I'm tired of giving you chances for you to burn me again."

The doctor feels a mixture of relief and guilt wash over him when you call him Spencer. It's something he's been waiting for you to say since this cursed conversation started. He silently hopes that it means you are starting to believe him. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. I don't want to screw things up, or make you feel like I don't care-" He takes a deep breath "I do care about you. More than you know."

"I'll give you one more chance, Spencer. My heart can’t take any more of you denying me in public while you care for me in private." You gesture around to the location in which the two of you are. Alone. Still in the elevator. "You can say pretty things when there's no one around and it makes me realize how you're ashamed to be seen with me."

Spencer’s expression is pained, knowing that his actions have made you doubt how he feels about you. He takes another deep breath, still holding your gaze with intensity.

"No, no that's not it-" He says with urgency, dropping his hand from your cheek "I'm not ashamed to be seen with you, not at all... It's just-" He pauses briefly, trying to figure out how to put it into words. He swallows hard, feeling ashamed of the reason he's been hiding his feelings.

You look down at your shoes as you wait for him to continue, not willing to give him any assistance. This mess is his to clean up.

He sighs, looking down for a moment before looking back into your eyes. "I'm scared, okay? Not of you, or of how I feel about you. God no." He starts, his voice cracking slightly from the emotion behind his words "I'm scared of how other people will react. I'm scared of how they'll treat us, how they'll look at us... how it'll change the way they think of you."

You scoff again "Reid, look." You start, straight back to his last name. "I'm under no delusion that we’re a normal couple. No. That we'd make a normal couple." You have to correct yourself since the two of you are obviously not in a relationship as he so rudely pointed out. "But give me the respect to make my own decisions, rather than you stepping in and making them for me."

He feels another pang of guilt hit him. You're making completely valid points, expressing your feelings with honesty, and he's been shutting you down at every turn. He feels the shame of the way he's been treating you start to grip at him painfully. "You're right... you're absolutely right. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry" Spencer says, his voice still full of guilt. "I know I have no right to make decisions for you... or to hide my feelings out of fear. You deserve better."

You hit the button to start the elevator again. "You're sorry, huh?"

Spencer watches you press the button again, knowing that this is probably not going to be over anytime soon. He lets out a deep sigh, still feeling a pang of pain in his heart. "Yes, okay? I'm so sorry. Not just for this, but for pushing you away and pretending like I don't care about you. I was being an idiot. A jerk, actually."

"-an asshole" You provide, knowing that's the better term for his behavior.

"Yeah, yeah, I was being an ass, okay?" He says with remorse, running a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. "I don't want to do this to you anymore. I don't want to push you away... to watch you walk away."

"Then why did you say those things to me?" You feel a bit of relief when the elevator finally opens again, desperate to get out of such close quarters with him.

Spencer follows you out of the elevator, still not wanting to let you go without trying his best to salvage some part of the relationship that he's practically destroyed.

"Because I'm stupid, okay? And a coward, apparently..." He trails off, taking a few fast steps to reach you. He reaches out and puts his hand on your arm once more, stopping your movements.

"You could say that again," You pull no punches, wanting Spencer to feel a fraction of pain that you have since this situationship started. You look back at him, trying to decide whether or not to believe his apologetic display.

His heart clenches again, hurting at your blunt tone, and realizing that you still don't believe him. He knows that he still has a lot of work to do to gain your trust again.

"Please..." He says, looking into your eyes pleadingly, still holding onto your arm "I know I've messed up, but I'm begging you not to walk away... I don't want to lose you."

You sigh, hoping to not live to regret this decision. "Get in the car Reid."

Spencer looks at you in disbelief, almost as if he can't believe that you've decided not to walk away. There's a mixture of relief and gratefulness in his expression. He nods, still holding onto your arm.

"Okay. Okay, I'll get in the car..." He stutters, almost as if agreeing to a compromise, though not fully believing that you're still willing to be in a car with him, alone.

You pull away from him and slump down into the driver's seat. Turning it on and putting it in drive quickly, not giving him much time to get in before just changing your mind and just driving off without him.

He quickly gets into the passenger seat, making sure to keep himself close to the door to allow you as much physical space as possible, not wanting you to change your mind at allowing him to ride in your car with you.

He sits there quietly for a moment, unable to figure out what to say after your previous interaction. He doesn't want to screw anything up again, so he settles for remaining silent until you speak.

You settle in and just start driving, not exactly sure of where you are heading and finding it a bit difficult to decide where to go. You risk a glance over at him and he's looking utterly pathetic. Curled up on himself obviously feeling terrible. Finally, you decide to just drive home, not wanting to be in public anymore. He watches you drive, keeping silent and staying as still as possible. He tries to keep himself from glancing over at you, though he finds it hard not to. Spencer feels desperate to reach out to you, to try to comfort you, but he knows that his touch is probably the very last thing you want right now. So he stays silent and keeps his distance, feeling incredibly guilty and ashamed of how he's behaved.

You keep on the route to your place wondering what to do now, you sigh softly, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, Spencer realizes what route that you're taking, knowing that it leads to your place. His heart feels like it's constricting, and he's overcome by guilt once again. He doesn't want to take this as an invitation of any sort, as he knows that he has a lot of work to do to earn back your trust. He's willing to put in the effort, but he's afraid that you'll tell him to leave as soon as you pull into the driveway.

You see the last turn coming up at the stop sign, but pause before turning, feeling the beginnings of a migraine start behind your eyes. The fight with Spencer has died down to silent treatment, but the high stress has finally caught up to you. You stop longer than normal at the stop sign and clench your eyes closed for a while, urging it to go away.

He glances in your direction when he notices you’ve stopped the car. You are sitting still with your eyes shut so tightly he can't help but feel concerned. He can tell something is bothering you, but doesn't know if it's okay to ask if you're alright.

"Are you..." He starts to say, hesitating for a moment. He doesn't want to annoy you by asking if you're okay, but he really can't hold back his caring nature. "...Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" You snap at him, not ready to hear him speak quite yet. You force your eyes back open, the migraine still lurking. You take the final turn and rush to pull into the driveway, parking in the garage.

Spencer flinches a bit at your sharp reply, realizing that he probably should have just kept quiet. He watches as you pull into the garage and sighs, knowing that it's probably time for him to go. Still, he doesn't dare move without you telling him to, or at least without any sort of response from you. Reid is still fighting an internal battle on whether or not to risk reaching for your arm, or if that would just send you over the edge.

You take a deep breath as you shut the car off and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the button to close the garage door behind the car. You don't instruct Spencer to do anything, just exiting the car and entering the house without shutting the door behind you.

He swallows hard, seeing you get out of the car without saying anything. He slowly unbuckles his seatbelt as well, feeling the weight of guilt upon him heavier than ever. He takes his time getting out of the car, almost as if preparing himself to be asked to leave. After he climbs out of the car, he slowly closes the passenger door and follows you inside, unsure if you'll be happy or pissed to see him.

You remove your jacket and hang it up on one of the hooks and toe off your shoes, giving Reid a pointed glare that he should remove his too. He quickly removes his shoes, placing them carefully next to yours. He knows better than to make you mad by leaving his shoes on, especially in your home.

You make your way into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of ice water and chugging it down. You open the freezer for an ice pack and drape it around your neck, hoping that it'll stop the migraine that you can already feel will be a bad one.

Spencer watches you hurry into the kitchen, silently noticing your strange behavior. He feels a pang of concern, knowing that something has to be wrong if you're taking such measures. He follows you into the kitchen, though he doesn't walk up right behind you. Spencer keeps his distance, his heart twisting in worry when he finally puts together that you have a headache. And it seems to be a fairly severe one.

You head towards the bedroom, closing the blinds and letting out a sigh of relief as you are finally free of the painful sunlight before turning around to look at Spencer who you have heard following you through the house. Spencer doesn't dare come any closer to you, afraid that his presence will be unwelcome.

"Reid," You whisper.

Spencer’s breath hitches as you finally speak to him, the sound of your voice making his heart constrict. He doesn't allow himself to hope that you calling out for him could possibly be a sign of forgiveness, but a part of him can't help but feel just a little optimistic. "Yes..?" He answers, his voice just as quiet as yours.

"I'm still angry, but right now, I'm in a lot of pain. Please…draw me a bath." Your voice is so quiet it's almost difficult to hear, but Spencer heard it anyway, his heart sinking a bit when you tell him that your anger hasn’t wavered. However, his expression quickly changes to concern when you tell him that you’re hurt. His heart aches with sympathy and guilt, hating knowing that you're in pain, guessing (correctly) that it is due to him causing you so much emotional turmoil.

Spencer swallows hard, before responding "Y-Yeah, I can draw you a bath... Anything for you..."

You watch as Spencer leaves towards the bathroom and then you sit down on the bed, hearing the water start to run. You massage your temples and take deep breaths.

Spencer enters the bathroom, turning on the faucet to draw a warm bath for you. He can't help but think of how pathetic he feels. He used to have the courage to pull you closer and hold you when you were hurting, but now he doesn't even know if he's allowed to ask if he can get closer to examine the source of your pain. He's scared of doing anything that would just make you push him away even more. When he's finished drawing the bath, he hesitantly peaks his head into your bedroom, not wanting to startle you and worsen your headache.

When you hear the tap turn off, you look up and see Spencer waiting. Standing up and making your way over to the bathroom, you throw all caution into the wind and decide to rely on Spencer to help you through the pain. You sit down on the chair in the bathroom and look over at Spencer, the exhaustion clear in your eyes. "Help me undress for the bath. I'm too tired to do it myself. Turn the light off first." You say, needing darkness mostly because of the migraine, but you are also relieved that the darkness can help you shield yourself from him seeing you so vulnerable.

Spencer wastes no time and immediately switches off the light as soon as you request for him to do so. He doesn't want you to feel even more pain from the light in your already weakened state. Reid quietly walks over to stand in front of you, looking down at you with a compassionate, though hesitant expression. "Are you... Are you sure about this? Letting me... Undress you?" He asks, feeling a bit nervous.

"Don't make me repeat myself.” Your voice is cold and tired as you feel exhaustion pulling at your bones. You carefully lean your head back against the ice pack. “I'm not asking you to do this because I want something from you."

He swallows hard, trying to push the feeling aside that you're just using him as nothing more than a tool right now. The feeling hurts him more painfully than a bullet wound. He reaches for the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up so that he can help you remove it, though he tries to avoid looking at anything and keeps his eyes focused solely on helping you. Once he gets your shirt over your head, he hesitantly puts his hands on the waistline of your pants, his eyes still averted from your body. He swallows again, before speaking up. "Lift your hips so I can remove your pants..."

You set the ice pack down so it doesn't make a loud noise if it falls. Your arms fall limply as he removes your shirt but you give no reaction at all, face blank and eyes are tired. "I'm not sure if I have the strength to do that right now" You sniffle as you feel tears rush to your eyes.

His heart clenches with sympathy as you sniffle, and he has to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to wrap you up in a hug and run a comforting hand through your hair. He knows can't do that right now. He just has to keep reminding himself that you don't want his touch.

However, he can still comfort you with his words.

"It's alright, I'll help you..." He says reassuringly. He kneels down on the ground in front of you, gently taking one of your hands in his own.

You watch him, tears falling down your cheeks silently.

He gently squeezes your hand in reassurance, trying to offer some sort of comfort to you. He quickly but carefully pulls your pants down, lifting each of your legs up to help you take them all the way off. Once he has removed your pants, he carefully returns your legs to the ground, before speaking up in a soft tone. "I'm going to help you into the bathtub now, okay? Do you think you can stand?"

A sob leaves your lips "I don't think so" You whisper.

He feels another wave of guilt wash over him, hating how weak and helpless you seem in this moment, and he hates himself even more for being the reason you're feeling this way. "Okay, that... that's fine..." He says, his voice thick with sympathy. His heart twists in his chest painfully as you sob, feeling absolutely awful about this whole situation. He slowly guides you off the seat, putting his arms around you for support.

As you near the tub, the climb to get in looks taller than a mountain and one of your legs twitch, but refuses to pull up high enough to make it over the side.

Spencer notices your hesitation as you approach the edge of the bathtub, and can guess that you won't be able to get into the tub on your own. "Hey, hey, it's okay..." He soothes, holding you closer to him. He gently puts an arm under your bottom and one behind your back, lifting you up carefully so that you're able to get into the tub.

You are shaky as Spencer sets you down on your feet and then you realize that you are standing nude right in front of him, but he's treating you so gently. "Help me lie down please, I don't want to fall" You keep your voice quiet, barely even a whisper. However, since there is no noise in the house, it still feels loud.

Spencer turns his face to the side, looking away to give you some sense of privacy as he carefully lowers you down into the bathtub. His hands are extremely gentle, his touch barely even registering on your skin as he helps you sit down . Once you're in, he stands up, averting his eyes, trying his best to make sure you don't feel as though he’s taking advantage of the situation.

"Do you... need help with anything else?" He asks, though he doesn't know what else he could possibly help you with while you're sitting in the bathtub. He just doesn't want to leave until he's certain that you're okay.

"Pass me the ice pack please." Your response is soft, and you can’t help but feel slightly pathetic at your inability to do anything. If you sat up, you’d likely be able to reach it yourself, but the pounding in your head keeps you from making any movements at all.

Spencer is happy to help, not even pausing before reaching for the ice pack that was already sitting on the little shelf on the side of the tub. He watches you take it from him, trying to resist the urge to help you place it around your neck, or to even reach for the washcloth on the other side of the bathtub.

You lean your head back and place the ice pack over your eyes, sitting in silence for a moment, weighing the options and deciding to keep Spencer around. Because even though he’s hurt you, he's still a comforting presence "could you..." I trail off, unsure of whether or not I should actually ask him.

Spencer is standing nearby, a respectable distance away. He doesn't want to overstep. However, when you seem to think better of whatever it was you were about to ask, his curiosity piques. "Hm? Could I what?"

"Massage my shoulders? I know it sounds weird, but sometimes it helps the pain go away." You feel ashamed for having to ask for so much help and are glad that the ice pack covers most of your face so he can't see your shame.

Reid blinks in surprise, a bit shocked at your request, though he's not sure if he's shocked at the fact that you're seeking so much physical comfort from him, or if it's at the fact that you're asking for a massage. He swallows hard, contemplating whether or not it's really okay for him to touch you in such an intimate way.

His silence has you jumping to conclusions. "You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable. If you want to leave, it's okay. You've done enough already" You say, not wanting him to feel trapped just because you’re hurting.

He quickly takes a small step closer to you, still unable to look at your body, but not wanting to let you believe he's going to leave. "No... no, it's alright... I can do it for you, I don't mind..." He says, trying to sound reassuring.

You sigh in relief knowing that he's going to help you and try to keep yourself from crying again.

His heart continues to twist with both sympathy and guilt for you, hating the way you look in this moment. So weak. So tired. He hates himself for being the cause, and he feels a lump in his throat, but he tries his hardest to push it down and focus on you. "Do you mind if I get in the bathtub with you?" He asks hesitantly, trying to make the question as un-suggestive as possible. Knowing that there's no way in hell he could massage you from outside of the tub without being completely awkward. The bathtub is tucked inside of a nook, and the open edge is to the side…if he were to try to massage you from the outside, it wouldn’t be very effective.

You pause for a moment, knowing why he's asked, but still feeling a little awkward "You can. But could you keep your underwear on please? I'd be more comfortable that way."

He swallows painfully at your request, a pang stabbing his heart as you clarify the necessity of him keeping his underwear on. Not that he would do otherwise. He's not a pig. However, the fact that you need to clarify such things speaks volumes on your level of current comfort and trust in him, and it makes his heart sink even more. "Of course I will... I'll keep them on, I swear."

You wait in silence hearing him undress, but you don't move to remove the ice pack from your eyes. Happy to have a blindfold.

Spencer slowly starts to remove his shirt. He's feeling even more vulnerable than usual at the moment, stripping down to his underwear in front of you. Reid is well aware that you aren’t looking at him, but this situation is very different than he’s used to and he feels unsure in the moment. He quickly removes the rest of his clothes before losing his nerve and slowly lowers himself in the bathtub behind you, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his eyes averted from your body. He hesitantly reaches for you, his fingers gently touching your shoulders, giving them a light pinch.

You let out soft cries, your shoulders being really tense. It hurts, and that much is obvious. But in order to curb the migraine, it’s necessary to push through the pain.

He almost flinches at the noise, feeling a pang in his heart as he hears you cry out from the pain, but he tries to push the feeling away as he slowly starts to massage your shoulders. "Tell me if you need me to stop... or if I'm pressing too hard..."

"Okay," You whisper, it was so soft that you wonder if it actually left your lips or not.

He continues massaging your shoulders, slowly and gently. He tries his hardest to be mindful of the pressure. He can see the expression on your face. At least the part of your face that isn’t covered by the ice pack. He knows that it's not completely comfortable for you, but he also knows that discomfort is to be expected. It's a massage. They're never comfortable. He keeps his hands placed carefully on your shoulders, trying his best to avoid touching elsewhere on your body...

You bring your hands up to hold the ice pack against your eyes as you lean forward, wanting him to massage a little bit lower on your back. "Are you still there?" You ask, knowing why he's being silent, but he's hesitant too.

"Yeah..." He responds in a soft tone, his hands still positioned on your shoulders, massaging your bare skin there. They hesitate as he tries to gauge whether or not he should move them lower. He finally decides to move them down, lowering his hands inch by inch, careful not to touch anywhere inappropriate.

You decide that's enough on your back and lean your full weight back against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and allowing the ice pack to just sit atop your eyes. ‘It's so much easier to be near him when I don't have to see anything’ you think to yourself.

His breath hitches as you lean back against him, sitting right against his chest. He stiffens up a little bit, not expecting such a move, feeling a mixture of surprise and a tiny bit of panic. He was not expecting anything like this... but also, he knows that he should have. He slowly resumes massaging your shoulders, trying to keep himself from reacting to having you so close against him, forcing himself to remain calm.

"You can stop massaging my shoulders now," You whisper quietly, "just hold me." The request is more of a plea, feeling the need to feel loved in the moment.

He almost sighs in relief that you've finally asked for physical comfort from him again. He immediately stops massaging your shoulders, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close, feeling his heart race at finally getting to hold you again. His arms wrap fully around you, pulling you securely back against his chest, letting his cheek rest gently against the top of your head.

"Spencer" You say softly.

His heart skips a beat as you speak, but he doesn’t remove his cheek that rests on the top of your head. He swallows hard, loving the sound of your voice as you speak his name, feeling a wave of relief that you're finally speaking to him on a first name basis again. It means you're finally forgiving him. He can't help but whisper his response in return. "Yes?"

"Don't hurt me again. You've never seen the aftermath until now, but I get these migraines each time you do this. I can't bear another." You don't move and just lie there, listening to his breathing. All the fight has left you, and you just want his love again.

His heart sinks deeper and deeper as your words seem to echo in his brain. The pain returns to his chest knowing that he had hurt you this bad so many times. He feels the burn in his eyes, threatening to turn into tears, but he desperately holds them back, not wanting to lose control in front of you. Today isn’t about him. Spencer refuses to be selfish anymore. He swallows hard, his hold on you tightening, but not too much that it would be uncomfortable. He's desperate to feel you as close to him as possible. "I won't... I swear, I won't do it again..."

"I believe you" You whisper, hoping that you’re not foolish for doing so.

He feels a pang of hope at your words, loving the way that you trust him, even now, when you have every reason not to. "Good... good, that's good..." He says, still trying to keep himself and his emotions in check. He knows better than to push his luck by asking for too much, but he can't help himself, whispering his next words in a quiet, pleading tone. "Can... can I ask you something?"

"What?" You keep your tone neutral, even in whispers.

Spencer swallows hard, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. He knows that you can probably feel it against your back... he tries to steady his voice, feeling extremely nervous at the thought of asking you this. "Can, I... Can I kiss you...?" If you were to look at his face right now, you would see that his eyes are screwed shut, as if he's unable to hold your gaze, as if he's too nervous to look.

You remove the ice pack from your eyes and gaze up at his face "Spencer" You say, waiting for him to turn back to you.

He swallows hard, keeping his eyes shut, trying to prepare himself for whatever you're going to say. He was really hoping that you'd just say yes, that you'd let him kiss you. But he has a horrible feeling that you're about to reject him, and he's trying to hold himself together for when that happens. "Yes...?" He responds, slowly opening his eyes, his heart speeding in his chest as he turns his gaze down to look at you.

You can sense his fear of rejection, and while you still feel sorrowful at the events of today, you’re no longer angry. "It would be an awkward angle to try and kiss in this tub" Yousay, slightly sarcastically but not denying his wish.

His heart stops racing as he notices that you haven't actually said "no" yet. In fact, he's almost certain that that was... dare he think it... you actually accepting it…?? His hopes rise even further hearing you mention that it'd be an awkward angle to kiss in the tub. He can't help but let a little smirk creep onto his face as he responds. "So, if we weren't in the bathtub, you wouldn't mind?"

You roll your eyes. Spencer is back. "Oh brother." You can't help it, a small smile creeps onto your face even with the migraine, though under Spencer’s care, it has ebbed away considerably.

He feels his heart almost skip a beat as he notices your small smile, feeling a wave of relief and hope as he sees you finally, truly smiling at him again. A weight that he didn't know was on his chest feels like it's being lifted, as he responds just as sarcastically as you were being, a smile still playing on his lips. "Hey, don't roll your eyes at me."

"I can do whatever I please, Spencer."

Spencer feels the sudden urge to laugh loudly, but reels himself back in, feeling his heart swell with happiness as you banter with him. He loves this, seeing you finally act like yourself around him again. Finally forgiving him. He responds playfully, not wanting the banter to end. "Whatever you say. I'm still gonna call you out for rolling your eyes at me though."

"You deserved it" Your response is blunt, but still laced with humor.

He smirks again, feeling a bit of his confidence returning. He's loving this playful banter. This feels so familiar. So... normal. He missed this. "You're rude." He responds, in the same playful manner.

"Only because you're dumb" You retort. To the untrained ear, this conversation may seem rude, but it feels so natural with Spencer to tease him this way.

Hearing you call him dumb almost makes him burst into laughter. He's so incredibly relieved that you're acting this way. So playful and sarcastic again. He's not used to you being serious and upset. He responds in the same playful manner, not to be outdone. "Says the girl who lets the guy who 'keeps hurting her' hold her in the bathtub..."

"Give me more sense and I might just change my mind. Don't tempt me." You cock your eyebrow and give him the side eye.

He tries to keep the smirk off of his face, knowing that you probably need rest right now. Hell, he needs some rest...however, he can't help but tease you just a little bit. "Well, that's a shame. I like tempting you."

You glare at him out of the corner of your eye again. "Dumbass." You whisper.

He snickers, trying his hardest not to just burst out into full-on laughter. He loves this, he loves hearing you insult him. It feels right. It feels like things are actually getting back to normal...

He responds, again, as playful as possible. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Princess. That's the best you've got?"

"You really want me to dig into you, don't you? Is this some weird degradation kink you have? I'm not into that kind of thing."

He almost actually laughs this time, some of the noise escaping from his lips. Your quick wit always surprises him…you're even implying that he has a 'degradation kink'??? He's definitely not into that.

He snickers one more time before responding, hoping you're just teasing him. "If I had a degradation kink, I don't think I'd be the one getting talked down to here, Princess..."

"You insult me and those will be your final words, Reid" You pull his last name back to show you mean business.

His eyes widen at the stern sound of his last name being said by you. He feels a pang in his heart, but then he notices the hint of a playful smirk on your face, making him sigh in relief. His response comes in a softer tone, though he definitely isn't admitting defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll shut up..."

You let out a soft giggle and relax against him again.

Spencer feels his heart swell as he hears you giggle. It's like music to his ears. It's literally the first laugh he's heard you let out since he hurt you, and it's absolutely beautiful... He swallows hard, trying to keep himself from getting too carried away, as he decides to press his luck a little bit. "Hey, um... Can I ask you something kind of weird, or random?"

"You're full of questions, aren't you doctor?"

He grins a little bit at the fact that you still refuse to call him by his first name, but he'll get there.

However, hearing you call him 'doctor' does bring another thought to his mind that makes his heart swell... "Yep. And I plan on asking a lot more."

"Fine. Hit me with it" You relent, curious as to what he has to ask.

He takes a deep breath, slowly trying to form the words he wants to say... "Uh... I was kind of wondering if... Um..." He says, pausing for a moment, suddenly feeling so nervous about this. But he needs to ask, so he finally forces the question out without hesitation. "Could I call you by a nickname..?"

You freeze. Well that was unexpected. You turn your head to look at him the best you can while lying against him, "What did you have in mind?" You ask tentatively.

He swallows hard, seeing the unsure look on your face at his suggestion. He decides to just go for it... "It's... stupid... but, um..." He pauses for another second, still nervous that you'll say 'no'. "Can I call you... 'Baby'?"

You giggle a little "Come on doctor, be a little more creative."

He can't help the grin on his face when hearing your challenge. He really loves your attitude, and he really wishes that he wasn't such a coward. He knows that 'baby' is so boring and unoriginal... "Fine, fine..." He grumbles before continuing. "Can I call you..." He pauses for a second, trying to think of a good nickname… "Babe?"

You groan, "That's somehow even worse!" You turn to tuck your shoulder against his side so you can look at him better.

Spencer can't help but chuckle a bit, loving your sassiness and your stubbornness. "Okay, you're just being difficult now..." He responds playfully, feeling his heart race as he looks down at your gaze.

"If I'm gonna allow a nickname, doctor, it better be a good one. Keep thinking."

Spencer feels his heart speed in his chest, loving it when you call him 'doctor' again, especially in the playful manner that you're doing it in. However, he knows that he has a challenge ahead of him... Reid lets out a deep sigh, but he keeps searching for a good nickname. He can't think of anything else off the top of his head though... "Um... I don't know... I'm not so good with this sort of thing, but... 'babe', 'baby', 'darling'... I just don't know."

"You decided on wanting to give me a nickname before thinking of a good one? How short sighted" You say holding in your laughter.

He almost huffs in annoyance, though he's mostly just amused by you. "Shut up." Spencer responds, still looking for a good nickname. He doesn't want to give up yet. "How about..." He says, trying to think of a good pet name that would suit you.

"What is it this time?" You sigh and rest your head against his shoulder and lay your hand on his chest.

He wrecks his mind to find another nickname, hoping that it isn't too corny. "Sweetheart?" He almost scoffs as he says it, realizing right away that it's so unoriginal. At this point, he's actually starting to grow frustrated with himself and how awful he is at pet names.

Your face scrunches up "Ummm...."

He sighs heavily seeing your reaction, knowing that all his attempts have been failures. "Oh, come on, I'm not good at this. If you can come up with something better, then be my guest."

"Sweetie?"

He nearly snorts, thinking that that one is just as bad as 'sweetheart.' "Sweetie?" He responds, trying to hold back his laughter.

You pout. "Hey! You're not being very friendly. I AM sweet."

He can't help but laugh at the little pout on your face. "Okay, okay, you're sweet, but the nickname still makes me wanna laugh." He says still chuckling a bit.

"Isn't it a good thing that the nickname brings you joy too?" ‘Laughter is a good thing, is it not?’ you think to yourself.

Spencer’s laughter dies down as he thinks about what you just said. "I mean... yeah. But I'm pretty sure it's supposed to bring you joy... You're the one that I'm trying to find a nickname for, not me."

"Well, try it out. Use it in a sentence or something and I'll tell you what I think of it."

He hesitates for a second before slowly nodding. "Okay..." He responds quietly, before finally saying it out loud. "...Sweetie?"

You squeal and kick your legs a little bit "No way! That gives you far too much power, we have to think of one that doesn't make me want to hug you." Your tone is full of merriment.

At your reaction to the nickname, Spencer lets out a hearty laugh, smiling as you kick your legs a bit and giving you a curious glance. "Oh? And why wouldn't you want to hug me?"

You squint your eyes at him "You're testing me again. Foolish man."

He smirks, enjoying your playful banter too much to stop. "I absolutely am." He responds, almost daring you to challenge him further.

You let out a ‘humph’ and turn back around, quickly pressing your weight back against him, trying to knock the breath out of his chest. When you hear an ‘OOF,’ you know that you were successful at catching him off guard.

"Feisty... I like it..."

"I'll show you feisty, you popsicle stick" You mumble.

He chuckles at your pathetic little insult. "A popsicle stick? Come on. You can insult me better than that."

"Again with the degradation kink. What is it with you??? Weirdo." The last word comes out in a whisper, trying to sound horrified at Spencer.

"Hey, I'm not the one who came up with a not-so insulting nickname that makes us both sound very hungry, princess..."

You glance back at him wondering if he's realized it yet, but alas, Spencer is as thick headed as he is smart. His face is the picture of dumbfounded confusion. He hasn’t realized anything.

"Uh... What?" Spencer says cautiously.

"You've already given me a nickname, ya nitwit" Punctuating your sentence with an eye roll.

"Wait, what? No I haven't. Sweetheart doesn't count..." ‘Clueless as ever,’ you think at his response.

"If I keep rolling my eyes, I'm gonna lose them in the back of my head at this point. I need to talk to whoever tested your genius and give him a piece of my mind. That's not what I meant."

"Then...what the hell are you talking about?"

"Princess" You say with a 'duh' tone. "You only use it when you're being sassy, but you've used it more than once tonight."

He feels like an idiot. "Oh...right..." He pauses for a moment, finally coming to a realization. "But...it's not even a real nickname. I mean, I don't really call you princess seriously."

At that, you fix him with a deadly glare. "Am I or am I not a pretty princess?"

He immediately regrets what he just said, the fact that you're a princess being extremely obvious in his eyes. "Yes! Yes, you're a pretty princess..."

"Good. It's settled then."

He sighs in relief. Feeling like he's escaped your ire for now. "I can't believe I didn't realize I'd already given you a nickname until right now." He pauses for a second, though he has another question. "How long have you noticed that I only call you that when I'm being sassy?" Genuinely wondering how long he's been subconsciously calling you that without realizing it.

"I notice a lot more than you do, doctor." Your response stays cryptic, not wishing to give away how long you have been making tiny notes about how he shows affection.

He scoffs a bit as he responds. "Alright, yeah. Don't rub it in, princess." Spencer tries to hold back a grin.

You let out a sigh, deciding that you want to get out of the tub, but would rather be clean first "The princess has a demand for her most loyal servant" You say in an over-the-top royal voice.

He barely holds himself together at your sudden change in character. He decides to indulge you, enjoying the banter.

"Yes, your majesty. Anything for you." He responds, playing along with your little game.

You give him a sideways glance "are you truly the most loyal" You ask, squinting your eyes at him in scrutinization.

He smirks as he responds, already knowing what you're getting at.

"I assure you, Princess, I am most loyal to no one more than you." He says, giving you a playful wink.

"Very well then. I need to be washed. Grab the soap, my servant."

He smiles, loving how into this you're getting as he reaches for the soap.

"Yes, Princess." Spencer responds, reaching to hand you the soap so that you can wash yourself. He doesn't know what the extent of your 'demands' will be.

You turn back around and make no moves to reach for the soap "well?" You say expectantly.

His hand freezes in midair, holding a bar of soap and he is back to being unsure of what to do.

"You want me to wash you myself?" He asks cautiously, not wanting to cross any boundaries here.

"A princess does not wash herself." You say petulantly.

He finally smiles, amused by your playfulness as he responds. "Yes, your majesty." He says, before beginning to run the bar of soap gently down your back, washing your shoulders first.

"You know, your majesty is reserved for a queen. Your highness is what you call a princess" You say this a little absentmindedly, appreciating his gentle movements.

He grins a bit, amused by your correction of his incorrect use of royal terminology. He continues washing your back before responding. "I'll be sure to remember that, your highness." He moves one of his hands to gently run along your side, washing your waist now.

You take a deep breath and relax against him once again. "I'll forgive the misspeak, this time."

"Thank you, your highness." He responds playfully, moving the soap along your waist and stomach. "Now, if you'll permit me... Could I have the honor of washing your chest?"

"My request to be washed included my whole body, you lowly servant" You say this in a 'you should know that' tone.

A grin splits Spencer’s face at your little scolding tone, loving your princess behavior. "Yes, of course, your highness. My apologies." He responds, moving one hand closer to the middle of your chest now, gently lathering soap across your skin there.

You bite your lip to hide your grin, pleased at how he's treating you with such care.

However, Spencer spots your grin and he just knows that you're enjoying this. He decides to test your royal highness by asking another question. "May I ask something, your highness?"

You pull your face back to a royal one and give him a sideways glance. "I'll allow it."

‘Gosh, I missed seeing her like this’ Spencer thinks to himself. ‘She really fits the princess title.’ He moves his hand along your chest, making sure to get every spot. "Well... I was just wondering... Do you really need help washing your legs?" He asks, a little bit nervous about your reaction. He knows he's pushing it a little bit here.

You scoff again "You tell me servant, are my legs a part of my body?" You know you’re being a brat, but this game is far too fun to stop now.

A smirk cracks his face, scaring away his nervousness. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, and right now is exactly why. "Yes, your highness, your legs are indeed a part of your body."

"Then use the tiny brain that you seem to possess and rethink the order I gave you."

His smirk grows, finding this little bit of your stubbornness strangely playful and adorable. He moves his hand down to your thighs. "Very well, your highness. I will use my tiny brain to wash your legs now."

"Smart choice. Make another mistake and I'll have your head." Teasing him is far too much fun. It's not everyday that you can call a genius a pea-brain.

His smirk refuses to leave his face, knowing that your threat holds no weight. He moves his hands down from your thighs to your calves, making sure that your legs are covered completely in soap.

"Don't worry, I'm a quick learner." He responds, still in the playful mood.

"It isn't me that should be worrying. Princesses do not worry over petty servants" Crossing your arms to punctuate the sentence.

He lets out a soft laugh at your little show of attitude. He decides to play along again, playing the role of the humble servant and 'admitting his mistake.'"Forgive me, your highness. What I meant to say was that I know you do not worry because you are a princess who doesn't worry over petty servants."

"Goodness, I can almost feel your tiny brain growing the longer you spend in my royal presence."

Spencer snorts a bit, loving the way that you keep coming up with new ways to say that his brain is small. It's honestly almost cute the way you keep trying. "Yes, all of the royal knowledge that you've bestowed upon me is truly overwhelming me, your highness."

"I am endlessly gracious, aren't I?"

He smiles, loving how fast your sarcasm comes in this situation, deciding to push the boundary just a bit further. "Yes, yes, you truly are endlessly gracious. Now... I do have one last place that your highness needs washed. Or do you want to do that yourself?" He asks, trying to fight back a smirk.

"Lowly servant! Must I repeat myself again, or would you rather keep your head?" You give him a look saying that you know what he's thinking, but there's no way you’ll be backing down from this challenge.

He smirks, loving how committed you are to your little act. He decides to continue, already knowing that you're not gonna back down. "My apologies, your highness. You'll have to give me specific instructions though... Your loyal servant is a bit dense."

"Dense is to gracious a word for how pathetic my lowly servant is, my God. If you don't wash me there right now, I will have you thrown out on your behind. Headless."

The chuckle he lets escape his lips hearing your stubbornness is downright sinful... but the more you talk like this...he has to admit...fuck it’s turning him on. He does his best to hide it though, knowing that it would ruin the game. "Oh, your highness, I beg of you, please forgive me for my mistake." He moves his hands down further, gently rubbing soap onto the parts of your inner thighs, slowly letting his hands move closer and closer to your innermost area.

"Is there no end to my graciousness? I will forgive you only if you complete your final task perfectly."

Spencer smirks, he absolutely loves your little game. "There truly is no end to your graciousness, your highness..." He moves even closer, his hands almost... but not quite touching your most sensitive area. "I pray I can complete this final task perfectly."

"Don't pray to a god, my servant, pray to me" You tilt your head back against his shoulder and let out a sensual exhale.

His smirk grows, loving that you're enjoying this just as much as he is. "You are right... I am no true believer of a god..." He responds before leaning in a little closer, speaking gently in your ear with a voice full of reverence and devotion. "I pray to only you, your highness."

"You truly are my most loyal" You whisper in anticipation of him finally reaching me where you need it most.

His jaw nearly drops as he hears you speak in such a sensual tone. He almost loses it, and he nearly does lose it as he recognizes the soft anticipation behind your voice. He decides to get right to the point, slowly moving his hands forward until he's just barely touching you, the feeling making his heart race even more. "Your highness... May I...? It is my final task..."

"Please" Your voice comes out desperate, your facade of being demanding crumbling slightly. "Make your goddess feel good."

He swallows hard at your desperate plea, feeling his heart race at the use of the term 'goddess' from you. Spencer can see it clearly now, you are his goddess, and he keeps returning to you, longing to worship you. He decides to go for it, trying to fight back a moan as he responds in a low tone. "As my goddess commands..." He slowly moves one of his hands forward, finally touching you between your legs.

A breath leaves you quickly in relief, and your hips buck up against his hand, Spencer knows just how to build up your desperation, and he’s done his best work tonight.

Spencer feels your reaction to his touch and lets out a pained groan. He leans a bit more forward, kissing your cheek and bringing his mouth closer to your ear. "Just relax and follow my lead, my goddess..." He says, his voice low and soft, full of lust and devotion, as he starts to gently caress and explore you with his fingers.

"As you wish" You manage to say, your voice breathy and full of need.

Spencer’s heart skips a beat hearing your voice, the need, the trust, the desperation in it fueling his flame. Spencer starts slow with gentle circles around your clit, but he gives a light tap tap tap against it and you jolt at the intense feeling. He can't help but let out a sigh, his breath warm against your neck, as he feels himself getting more worked up by this with every passing second. Spencer does his very best to hold back a groan, but he can't help but feel like this is the most intimate moment he's ever shared with you. You have trusted him to care for you when you were hurting, and now you are allowing him to bring you pleasure.

"More~~" You truly can't help but beg him regardless of the fact it’s unnecessary to do, he's always known exactly what you need.

He lets out a soft, shaky moan as you whimper into his ear, your soft voice sending a shiver down his spine. He obliges, his fingers still moving in a circular motion, continuing to massage that same place with the same slow, gentle pace as he whispers into your ear with a low, shaky breath. "That's it, my goddess... Just let me take care of you..." Spencer moves his other hand down to join the first and gently circles your entrance before gently dipping inside.

A broken moan leaves your lips. ‘Finally,’ you think with a sigh of relief.

His heartbeat speeds up even more, his breath becoming more and more shaky as the moment grows even more intimate. He starts to increase his pressure against your clit, dipping his long fingers as deep as they can reach. His fingers gradually speed up their pace and movement, continuing to let your soft, needy moans and whimpers fill his ears as the sound drives him crazy. He begins to kiss and nibble on your neck and jaw, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath picks up speed, and your hips can no longer keep still, you need more, but don't know how to ask for it.

But you needn’t say a word. Spencer can feel the need in your movements, as well as hear it in the soft breaths that are leaving your lips. He knows what you need, so he takes it upon himself to give it to you, as he synchronizes the movements of both of his hands and turns to bite down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, trying to fight back a moan of his own as he feels how badly you want it.

"Spencer" You finally break, crashing through your release, your hands grasping at his wrists to hold his hands against you, not allowing them to leave your body.

His jaw drops a bit, breathing deeply through his nose trying to keep his composure. He feels you spasming around his fingers, and he gently guides you through the feeling and slowly brings you back to the present. He can't help but moan a little bit, feeling your hands hold him in place, keeping him down there. He waits until you've rode it out before slowly, reluctantly and gently pulling his hands away.

"Thank you" It’s an odd thing to say in a moment like this, but it feels right anyway.

He lets out an unsteady breath, almost like he's panting from all of the emotion and need of the moment, before voicing his response. "You're welcome, my goddess..." Pulling his head away from your neck, Spencer stares at you for a moment and his eyes scan your face, as if he's looking at you for the first time. He stares at you for a few more seconds, the love and care crystal clear in his gaze before he finally speaks again. "You're so beautiful like this..."

"Help me from the tub, my loyal follower, I'm starting to catch a chill from the cooling water" You look at him, and the emotions in his eyes reflect in your own.

"Yes, my goddess." He responds with a soft, warm smile, slowly standing up without breaking eye contact with you. Spencer’s hands gently tuck under your arms, using his strength to lift you from the water and he helps you out of the tub before quickly grabbing a towel to help you dry off. Spencer starts on his next task to softly dry every last part of you...just because he can.

You stand there watching him dry you reverently, finally feeling the love you've been needing for so long.

Spencer stares into your eyes as he gently rubs the towel over your bare skin, drying every last part of you off without missing an inch. It's clear from the look in his eyes that he loves nothing in this world as much as he loves doing this with you, taking care of you and loving on you. Once he's finally satisfied that you're dry, he glances down, grabbing the edge of the towel and gently wrapping it around your body, leaving you tucked into a little bundle.

"I'm a burrito goddess" You say, the migraine has mostly gone away, but you blame it for the stupid comment anyway as you make your way back to the bedroom and grab a fluffy robe. After putting it on, you open the drawer that holds a few spare clothes Spencer left behind at your place from last nights he spent here and pass him a clean and dry pair of underwear.

He lets out a soft snort at your cute little comment, watching you walk back to the bedroom and put on your fuzzy robe. When you return with his spare underwear, he takes them with one hand, watching you with a small smile. "Thanks." He says, deciding to go on ahead and remove the sopping wet pair he has on and slip the clean pair on right in front of you, not caring if you see. He knows it's silly, but he wants you to see that he's completely comfortable being this vulnerable with you.

"Come lay with me?" You ask, not wanting it to sound sexual, but needing reassurance that he's staying the night.

He looks at you for a second before gently and softly responding. "That was the plan." He responds, loving that you're feeling vulnerable enough to even ask. He walks up to you, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a light hug and taking in your scent, kissing your head softly for a moment before pulling away and staring into your eyes. "Of course I'll lay with you..." He responds, his voice soft and comforting.

You tilt your head back, finally giving him the kiss he asked for at the beginning of the bath.

Spencer leans forward, his eyes fluttering a bit as he finally feels your lips against his, savoring the feeling of you finally kissing him, he closes his eyes and kisses you back softly. After a few seconds, he reluctantly pulls away, though he keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes slowly open to stare into your eyes. He smiles a bit and speaks again. "I could kiss you like that all day."

"Even if people see you do it?" You prod because he seems to lose his nerve to show his feelings for you when you’re not alone. That's why you were hurt in the first place.

Spencer immediately realizes what you're talking about, and his smile slowly fades. "You're right. That was kind of a dick move on my part." He swallows hard, guilt returning, and he can't help but look away from your gaze, ashamed of himself.

"I just don't want you to be ashamed of me, of us." Your voice is soft and non accusatory.

He takes another deep breath before slowly looking back at you, his jaw quivering a bit, his voice shaky. "I'm not ashamed of you. I think you're perfect." He shakes his head, his stomach twisting and churning with guilt. "I'm ashamed of myself. You deserve better than someone like me. Someone who doesn't want to lose everyone around him. Someone who doesn't run away from his feelings. Someone who is terrified of being vulnerable. Someone who doesn't... can't... allow himself to be loved."

"My love is there for you. Whether or not you accept it, is a choice you make on your own." You say this and turn to go lay down, still feeling the exhaustion that grips your bones.

He swallows hard, letting you go as you walk over to the bed. He decides to wait by the edge, watching you, before finally responding softly. "Just a choice I have to make, huh?" He slowly walks over to the bed, climbing under the covers with you. He looks at you for a moment, deciding to try and take a leap here... "And if I decide to take that love that you're offering...What will you do?"

"Give you more" You say it simply, for what else could you do?

Spencer blinks back tears, feeling his heart race and his stomach knot again as he listens to your response, staring at you, not able to look away.

"What could 'more' possibly be? You say that you love me...What could be more than that?" He asks, genuinely curious, as his eyes trace over every detail of your face.

"The amount of love a goddess shares is endless and self sacrificing. I will love you to the ends of the earth. Just stop being afraid of it" You look at him seriously.

His expression softens a bit as he listens to your words, unable to look away from those gorgeous eyes of yours, his heartbeat speeding up as he slowly nods. "I'm just not used to being loved, at least not in a way that isn't painful..." Spencer never breaks eye contact with you, feeling as though he's baring his soul to you in this moment.

"Love shouldn't hurt, Spencer" Calling him by his name feels right again, so you say it with reverence.

He swallows hard again, loving hearing his name on your lips. It's been too long since he's heard that reverent, loving tone come from you.

"I know it shouldn't, my goddess..." He responds, his own voice still shaky, but full of love and care. His head drops back to the pillow and Spencer finally finds the moment too much to keep eye contact. His eyes close.

"Then stop running from it. I'm only your goddess, I don't need any more followers. I have so much love to give and only you to lavish it upon. Let yourself be loved for real."

He slowly nods, reconnecting his gaze with yours. "Alright... Yeah... You're right." His voice is shaky at first, but he slowly finds his confidence again as his voice gains strength and conviction. "I'm tired of running, Princess...I don't want to run anymore. No matter what happens, I'm not leaving you again..."

"Good. That's what I needed to hear." Your tone holds finality in it, and Spencer feels a little stupid at how simple your logic is in this situation. Why hasn’t he seen how well you fit together? Why has it taken him so long to accept your love?

He stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah, me too."

With that, he slowly slides closer to you under the covers, gently wrapping his arms around you, as if making sure that you're real and that he isn't dreaming all of this... Spencer loves the feeling of you in his arms, he loves knowing that you're not going to leave or run away at the first sign of him being vulnerable and trying to trust you.

You finally give in to your exhaustion, drifting off into a pleasant sleep. Spencer watches as your breathing settles and your body relaxes as you fall asleep in his arms, feeling his tense, stressed body calm significantly as he holds you. He takes a moment to just savor the weight and feeling of you in his arms, the feeling of truly loving and being loved with no running, fighting, or hiding. He smiles softly, finally feeling safe, as he kisses your head softly and gently. Without even trying to stay awake, he soon allows you to drag him into sleep with you, and he does so happily, without resistance, finally completely at peace.

#Spencer imagine #Spencer Reid Imagine #criminal minds #imagine #angst imagine #spencer smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #smut

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gladiatorcunt · 3 months ago

Text

- FEARS TO FATHOM | XIV.

i can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try

cw: kinktober prompt (roleplay), fem reader, early criminal minds, background hotch x reader x spencer (age gap, reader and spencer in their early-mid 20’s), knifeplay, degradation, murder fantasies, necrophilia fantasies, snuff films mention, blood play mentions, part of the roleplay is that hotch is your daddy (open to interpretation on the exact meaning), one mention of sadomasochism, knife (handle) fucking, dead dove do not eat, under negotiated kink but hints of you and spencer being secretly disturbed freaks, spencer referred to as ghostface for most of the fic, one face slap, fantasy fulfillment (bc spencer is a soft dom TO ME), off screen recording

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“Spence, come on, I’m gonna fall asleep by the time you get ready.” You shout at the closed bathroom door, if only to stave off your own nerves and lingering excitement.

The beginning of October was a snooze fest, you, Spencer, and Aaron had so much work, back to back cases that ran longer than anyone thought. Elle couldn’t stop ranting to you, and you to her, about how fucking aggravating things have been. None of you could even afford to make lazy plans for Halloween, the office already minimally decorated with tiny plastic pumpkins and purple-green-orange streamers here and there.

Until the angels granted you mercy, Aaron bargained some time off for the rest of the team in exchange for him spending hours eye level deep in paperwork.

You and Spencer each gave him a brisk but heartfelt thank you kiss before you headed home, to the house owned by a man who wouldn’t be accompanying his partners tonight.

Spencer calls back to you in between awkward bangs of his knees against the wall, shuffling his work clothes off and getting into the costume. “Just a second, you’d think you’d appreciate the lenghts i’m willing to go for you.”

You definitely do when after some more bumbling about he comes out in the ghostface costume, his gangly body in the long black fabric, holding the mask in his hand. Because of course you can’t do a more normal boss and secretary type situation, no, you have to have your boyfriend dress up like a horror movie serial killer, one of your favorites, and act like he’s gonna do the same to you.

You also wanted to see Spencer let go a little bit, be darker in ways your toes curl thinking about, Aaron was the one that bought the costume anyway. You were too shy to do anything beyond mentioning off handedly that it would be hot, and Spencer wanted you to squirm.

“Aaron waited 45 minutes for the employees at Spirit Halloween to find one in the back because they were sold out. The least we do is put it to good use since we’ll be working on the actual day.”

Your cold feet turn freezing, “This is so stupid and weird, we can just lie when he comes back and say we used it-”

Now here you are, breath caught in your chest as you gaze up at the handsome looming figure, Spencer huffs out a laugh at your shyness and flicks the hood up. He puts the mask on and fastens it around his head, now nothing but his gait and his voice signify the man behind the mask being your boyfriend. You can almost see his amused small smile, the knife he swiped from the kitchen block taps a tune along your jawbone, humming a note on every point of contact.

Your eyes flutter shut, setting the scene and dimming the lights, a cold and black gloved hand shoves you back onto the bed, pushing you right into the deep end.

“Please, I- I’ll do anything, I don’t wanna die, sir.” Your voice actually cracks on the tail end of your sentence, putting your all in your amateur-porn-without-a-camera performance.

“Shh.” Ghostface whispers but it’s jagged with long held back arousal, “You’re not going to die yet if you give me something for my trouble. You let me waltz right in just because Daddy’s not home, and now I'm supposed to pass up a pretty little lying whore like you?”

You whimper, “I’m not a whore, I just- He doesn’t have to know, please, I’ll do whatever you want, I swear.”

“Oh so you admit you were lying to him? How do you think he’s gonna feel when he comes home to see his precious baby’s guts spilled all over the bed she wanted her secret boyfriend to fuck her in. You were so giggly when you told me it was his.” He cocks his head to the side, teeth no doubt gleaming white under the mask. “What’s wrong, sugarplum? Not so proud of being a slut anymore?”

“Spread your legs, I have the perfect game in mind. Your pussy can’t lie like your mouth can, and I have just the thing she wants.”

You tremble, letting tears gather in your eyes so you really look afraid for your life. You sink into the mattress, your upper inner thighs glisten with your juices, already wet and he hasn’t thrust his knife inside of you let alone his cock. Your head says you should just lie there and feel the overhead fan blow gently on your exposed pussy but your clit wants to scream at Ghostface to go in blade first.

“See, look.” He taunts, parting your folds with the chilly tip of his knife, “She’s co cute, glistening and puffy, she’d look so good being fucked on the hilt of my knife, don’t you think?”

It’s not quite what you want but you nod, letting your legs go lax so he can get a proper look at your juicy cunt. He hums in approval, the soft sound raises your hackles and causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

He slaps the tip of the blade against your clit, and it’s the miracle that you weren’t cut that has you pleading up at him with your eyes. To pretty please at least thrust the hilt in so you can feel like you’re getting stabbed on something, Ghostface tilts his head again, his long body bending to the side, considering giving you what you want.

But wasn’t the point of this whole charade to turn you into a whiny bitch who’d risk her life for a serial killer’s knife, lusting after it possibly more than his actual cock?

“Oh, fine. I guess we’d better be quick if we don’t want your daddy to drop in on us too soon, I'd hate to have to gut him too, baby.” There’s a false hint of concern, you can picture a slight pout under the mask, his fingers tighten around the handle.

You eagerly scramble back on the bed, and Ghostface follows after you. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of your hips, one gloved hand shooting out to steady himself by your head and the other keeping a firm grip on his knife. He makes sure you can always see it, not because you actually need a reminder of the threat your (and your daddy’s by association) life is in, but because it entices you into being good.

Not that he’d mind a brat, but he doesn’t have the time today to break you apart piece by piece. He waves the knife in front of you, dangling a carrot in front of his dumb bunny, and reaches down under his cloak to unbuckle his belt.

“Aw, you perked up as soon as I started fiddling with my belt buckle, huh buttercup? Don’t get too excited, that little heart might burst and we haven’t even been able to watch any scary movies together yet.” Ghostface teases, shuffling back so his pants can fall to the floor.

You weren’t touching yet, but you still whine. His eyes must be crinkling under the mask because he giggles and climbs back up your body to hover above your face. He boops the tip of your nose with his knife, the edge gently scrapes against your chubby cheek and your jawline as he drags it along the contours of your face. Mapping it out so he knows which cuts to make without making you too ugly, as long as your holes can tighten enough to hug something, he doesn’t mind.

“Are you scared? Aw, I hope so, it’s only gonna make you tighter, you might even bleed without me having to give you a single cut.” He laughs when you pout at that, dragging the tip of his blade under your shirt before cutting it off and doing the same to your bra, a lacey thing you may or may not have bought specifically for this occasion. Blood red and now in tatters on your daddy’s bedroom floor, hopefully you can pick it up later before he comes home if you’re still alive.

“Mmh, don’t hurt me, please, I’m doing what you want aren’t I? I’m being good for you, that’s all I want, just wanna be good for you so fuckin’ bad.” You plead, gasping as he cuts away your mini skirt too.

And you do, it’s why you want your boyfriend to let go and carve you up as if all you’re good for is to be a monument to how much you adore him. You love him like this, slipping into the role of a guiltless killer who just might snuff the life out of you no matter how stellar your pussy game is, and you’ll love him afterwards when he needs round 3 (because you want one round with him in your pussy and one in your ass) to be gentle and sweet, his hung skinny boy cock stealing the breath out of you even when his strokes are languid and honey fueled.

“I know you do, I wouldn’t be giving you a chance to live otherwise, you whore. You’re just a sweet girl who got tripped up as soon as it was looking like you were gonna get dick, right? Doesn’t matter what happens after, don’t sweat it, you’re gonna get everything you want.”

You mewl, and your eyes flutter shut as he pushes your clothes off of your body. His knife’s blade shocks you a little when he drags it along your skin, making a path towards your dripping pussy. Your clit throbs in anticipation, Ghostface’s cloak shifts as his shoulders slightly shake from laughter.

“Greedy girl, I'm gonna put it in okay? Feel free to cry and scream all you want, I'd prefer it actually.” Is all the warning you get before he positions the black knife handle in front of your pussy, and starts pushing it in.

You whine at the stretch, and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust beyond that, slamming it in until the blade is just outside your hole. He grunts in pain, wrapping his hand around the sharp edges, his gloves are too thick for his skin to be sliced through, but you notice his cock twitch under his cloak.

You gush around the hilt of the knife, feeling too dizzy to look down at where it disappears into your body. It doesn’t do anything but split you in two, there’s no special spot it hits and the smooth bumpy ridges are too slight to provide any stimulation. It’s the brutality of the act that turns you on, a masked man looming above you as he plunges his knife into you, stabbing you from the inside.

The blade makes itself known every so often, poking your folds, imitations of sharp pecks as Ghostface thrusts the hilt inside your sopping wet pussy. The mess on your daddy’s sheets takes on more fluid, growing into a small puddle, you’re so embarrassed and your heart is beating faster than a hummingbirds as you stare up into the eyes of his mask. Black sinkholes surrounded by bright white, elongated and macabre, you clench around the handle. This could be the last sight you ever see, a ghostly specter getting off on desecrating your body and settling you on fire with your own shame.

You drool at his long fingers, curled so tightly around the blade, he must be in tremendous pain. Your clit jumps, listening for muffled pained groans held behind clenched teeth. It’s not your own suffering that gets you going apparently, this deranged man’s desperation to make you cum from being hurt that he ends up getting off on hurting himself is all you care about. Your daddy would forgive you, you just couldn’t help sniffing after a big soon to be bloody cock, maybe if you’re left alone afterwards he can put you back together. Kiss your wounds and gently guide you through a soft orgasm, a pink frothy ring permanently tied around the base of his cock.

“Is this knife a good enough dildo for you?” Ghostface sneers, he can tell that you’ve started to drift off, getting so caught up in the moment you can’t even be present enough to ride it out. “This pussy’s so tight I can't fit anymore of it in, guess you’ve been a good whore, I’m sorry I can't cut up your insides, carve them up like my special little pumpkin. Round and sweet and so fucking easy to squash into gooey pulp.”

You whimper and rock your hips down, desperate for the blade to somehow slip inside and absolutely mess you up. You want to bleed out around his cock and stare up into the eyes of his mask as you shatter around him, sharing the experience of cumming together while the light leaves your eyes. You don’t even know what he’d do, if he’d pull out right away and leave a sea of blood and other bodily fluids surrounding your corpse, if he’d snap a pic or two before sauntering right out the front door, whistling an old timey love song as he runs through his options for what to watch when he gets home.

Or maybe he’d stay, jostle his softening cock inside of you, softly bouncing your cooling body until it becomes too stiff. If he’d tear up just a little behind the mask and brush the gaping long oval shaped mouth over the lips on your face, your first kiss, only in death. He’d die someday and pull you down to hell so he can tell you his name and do this all over again, kissing the sweat off your philtrum and huffing the sulfur and brimstone from your bush.

“That’s it, clench on my knife handle, I know that’s what you’re after, but you’re still drooling… don’t tell me you want my cock now? We were just getting started…”

“I- I want your cock, so bad please, I wanna cum on it, wanna make you feel so good you’ll come back to finish me off later.” You beg and play with your tits, rolling your nipples in between your fingers so you’ll be even wetter.

You want it to be amazing for him, to be enveloped in so much liquid he’d only have to close his eyes and imagine it was your blood. You hear a groan coming from above you and you smile, “It’ll be so good, you can keep pretending you’ve killed me so we can do this again and again and again and again. I can be your perfect murder victim, a toy that never breaks for good, your cumsock. Please, Mr. Ghostface, we can even make a movie together if you want.”

Amateur porn, snuff, erotic-sleazy-trashy slasher gore porn, cheap horror, you’d do it all.

“God, you really are such a freaking freak. I thought I told you I wouldn't make a decision until I've ruined every one of your holes for anybody else. I guess this can be your audition, you wanna be my little star so bad then you can prove that you can handle what that’s really gonna be like. Gonna rough you up and leave you scraped raw, bully this pussy with my dick and choke you out when it’s time for bed.”

Your clit throbs painfully, and you almost cum on the now uncomfortable chafing material of his knife’s handle when he abruptly yanks it out, leaving your hole hungry and empty. More wetness dribbles out, some of it falling right on the black hilt and into the grooves, staining it in a way, you hope he sniffs it and jerks off while he kills some less lucky girl later.

He drops the knife right by your hip, and you wince as it knicks you. Ghostface braces himself on either side of your head and reaches down to ruck up his cloak, clumsily unbuttoning his pants with one hand and freeing his rock hard cock. You don’t get to marvel at it, to live with the knowledge that you know what the infamous serial killer terrorizing your town’s penis looks like. He doesn’t allow you any prep time now either, you’re not empty for long before he’s impatiently thrusting his bare cock in your puffy pussy.

It makes the most sickening squelch when his balls swing to hit your ass, like an organ you forgot existed just burst.

He gets so excited that he smacks you clean across the face, panting like a rabid dog mounting his prey.

“Fuck, virgins have the best pussies. Does this hurt, my fat fucking dick breaking you down into nothing? You look like you’re gonna cry, baby, it’s okay. You’ll like it soon, or not, this isn’t about what you want anyway, right? This is what you wanted, opening the door for a stranger only to get destroyed by his raw cock in your daddy’s bed.”

You’re still reeling from the slap but you have enough sense to nod, sobbing as his thrusts become harsher, sending you up the bed and spreading the burn of his length forcing itself to fit all throughout your abused body.

The smell of sex is going to take forever to come out, seeping through the walls and into the foundations of the house, an invisible scarlet letter for his future starlet.

Spencer’s phone beeps hours later, once, then twice, then a few more times before it falls silent.

I let you play without me this one time, don’t forget that.

Make sure to bring her room temperature water. Cold water gives her headaches. Two painkillers, not four unless she asks, she gets dizzy otherwise.

Take a shower if you’re feeling up to it, she’ll get fussy if she’s sticky and you’ll get fussy if she’s fussy.

Send me the video, last one on this floor of the bulding by now. Gideon went home an hour ago. I want pictures of you in the costume too.

Love you both, I’ll do my best to be home sometime tomorrow. No cockwarming if she’s too fucked out, just slip a plug in. You know her favorites, don’t get smug if she picks the pink heart shaped one again.

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