#dr reid x you
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Mind Over Matter (Chapter 5) | Bylines to my heart
Summary: You are a young journalist navigating the turbulent job of reporting for a local newspaper in D.C. What happens when you constantly bump into a cute boy genius? Can FBI agents befriend journalists? Can they fall in love with one?
Word Count:
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
âOnce you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you'd been before the fall." â Jodi Picoult
Over the course of the next few days, Spencer finds himself all over the country. One week he's in Georgia, then there's a case in New Mexico, only for them to be called to consult over a case in Michigan the very next moment. When he first started at the FBI, he used to hear multiple people mention the dangers of travel burnout. As someone who had barely left the West Coast, that idea seemed ridiculous to him. Working remotely from different stations, visiting several cities in one week, and staring longingly out an airplane window seemed like a glamorous lifestyle. If burnout was the price to pay, he could deal with it.
But now?
After a decade in the BAU, he completely understand why all senior agents complain about their job not being a 9-to-5. He's constantly rushing, because the team is always inevitably called to consult in a case at the very last notice, so he never ends up unpacking, never turns off his brain, never rests, never stops. And when he's off work, itâs hard not to bring his work home with him. He doesn't really feel like he even has a personal life anymore. He's missed so many birthdays, anniversaries and holidays.
Keep reading or read it on AO3
Truth be told, Spencer simply doesn't know how to relate with most people. It's not that he dislikes them, but more so they are just too different from him. They don't have the same morals as he does, nor do they understand the way he thinks. On top of that, it's not like he had that many opportunities to learn how to navigate relationships growing up. His mother's illness made him pretty much a recluse, and only when he got older did he realize that a lot of people thought he was odd.
Being a child prodigy meant that, during all of his childhood, he was pushed beyond his limits time and time again, challenged to an unhealthy level of learning that forced him to give up the typical things people do during childhood and their teenage years. Even now, with all the knowledge he possesses, he still lacks the ability to navigate social cues.
He is aware of that, of course, but his awareness does not make things any easier. In his haphazard pursuit for his career, he has always pulled away before getting too close to anyone.
Then, he met Maeve and he felt understood for the first time. He felt seen. And, to be honest, he enjoyed the attention. But she died in his arms before he could even get to know her deeply. And when she passed away, Spencer lost the very little trust he had in relationships.
When your heart has been through so much loss it doesnât just go back to loving. It goes into a very different place. It goes to fear, anxiety and trauma. The first moment he feels a small glimmer of love, he immediately feels so much fear that it's almost like a panic attack.
He knows he will never fully recover from Maeve's death, but he wants to move on. The problem is that he's terrified of being hurt. After everything he has witnessed over the yearsâthe pain of others, the damage they can cause, the horror that comes out of themâ he knows that thereâs a certain level of risk involved in loving someone else.
He knows he will never fully recover from Maeve's death, but he wants to move on. The problem is that he's terrified of being hurt. After everything he has witnessed over the yearsâthe pain of others, the damage they can cause, the horror that comes out of themâ he knows that thereâs a certain level of risk involved in loving someone else.
And yet, Spencer needs someone by his side. Someone who understands him and won't leave him. Someone he can lean on. He knows it'll take time, patience and understanding. But he wants to try that with you.
His biggest challenge right now is that he fears the worst and hopes for the best. So far, he hasn't had the best luck with romantic relationships, but maybe, this time, luck will be on his side.
He just has to find the courage to send you a text. His fingers tremble as he looks up your phone number. He can feel his palms sweating, so he takes a deep breath, then another, trying to calm his racing thoughts and pounding heart. He types out the message, pressing send before he can overthink it.
The second he does, fear and relief wash over him. He realizes that he has been holding his breath while typing the words. Even though he's terrified, he smiles and lets himself breathe.
06:37 PM Spencer đâď¸: Hi. I was just thinking about your offer for a second date, but I'm a bit swamped at work at the moment. How are you? Miss me?
It takes Spencer several seconds to realize what he's done.
This was supposed to be a joke. A sarcastic, lighthearted line that would hopefully put both of you at ease. Instead, it sounds as if he's clingy and desperate. He stares at the screen, wondering how many times he can hit delete before it stops working.
But somehow, he doesn't want to erase it. He wants to see your reply. He doesn't know why, but he really does.
â
You're almost asleep when your phone lights up with a notification. You look at the number and see that it's from a couple of emails waiting for you from your boss and a text from Spencer. You've been so buried in work lately that you're even struggling to stay awake, you don't have the right mind space to reply at the moment. You make a mental note to answer him later when you're less stressed out before finally giving up and getting some sleep.
Once again, you wake up to an alarm going off. You turn to your side and turn it off, deciding that a few more minutes of sleep can't hurt. You get back under the covers and close your eyes again. It's only moments later that you realize you're gonna be late if you wait any longer. You roll over and grab your phone to check the time, seeing that you've got another email from your boss. You groan at the thought of going into work today.
"You'll do fine," you mutter as you get out of bed. You quickly get dressed and try to calculate how much it'll take you to get to work on time. Finally, you decide that you'll just have to cut out some corners this morning. You head to the metro station before you even get a chance to eat something. Once you get there, the wagon is so full that you end up standing all the way down to your stop. By the time you get outside of the station, you're already running behind schedule.
Finally, you get to your desk just in time to see an email come through from your boss. "Just a reminder: we need the next review done by noon," he says. You sigh. You've been so buried in work, which you probably should've been doing anyway considering how much of it you suddenly have. Seems like everyone in the newsroom has started to get stressed about imminent deadlines.
You've been struggling with writing a review about the Midsummer Night's Dream production at the National Theater. You had such a good time with Spencer. It was an interesting experience to see Shakespeare performed live, especially because the stagecraft was great. But, of course, it's something that has been performed a million times before. So it's hard to write about what you've experienced without trying to sound like a complete douche.
It's not that you think it's bad or anything. It's just that there are lots of people who've seen this play a thousand times. The job writing reviews is a bit more tedious than you expected. You have to go over the details of plays, movies or books you've seen and read over and over again. Sometimes, you wonder why they hire someone to do these sorts of things.
The rest of the day goes by slowly until lunch break comes around. You're nowhere near finished with the review. It's the second time this week you've let a deadline pass by unnoticed. John calls you into his office. You're getting used to dealing with him. At first, you thought he was too harsh with your articles, but his constant scolding actually motivates you to be better at what you do.
"I know I haven't exactly been easy on you," he starts. "But there's a reason why I'm doing it." He pauses for a moment as if thinking about what to say next. "You remind me a lot of my younger self. You should keep that in mind. I did some stupid stuff when I was your age and ended up ruining my career because of it. Don't let that happen to you."
You're a little surprised by that, but you also feel kind of touched by it. Maybe you aren't so bad after all. The silence stretches for a minute or so. You sit down in front of his desk and take a deep breath before asking: "But...?"
He leans back in his chair and folds his hands in front of him. "Your articles have been very good," he begins. "But I want them to be even better. And I'm not saying that to stroke your ego. You've missed two deadlines. That's twice now. If you can't meet those deadlines, then I can't afford to keep you anymore."
"I'm sorry," you apologize. "I really am. I didn't think I'd miss the deadlines."
"No one does. It's just something you have to learn to deal with," he says. "Now, I'm not telling you this to scare you. I'm telling you this because I care about you. I don't want to see you fail, okay?"
"Thank you, sir."
He smiles. "From now on, I want you to double check every single detail. No more missed deadlines. And, just in case, I'm assigning one of the editors to work closely with you. His name is Thomas and he's going to help you with everything from now on." He calls for Thomas to come into the room.
He looks a bit older than you. You're guessing he's in his early thirties, maybe a little older. Your boss, John, continues. "Thomas is one of our best. You two are going to go through each of your drafts until you get the hangs of it. Do you think you can handle that?"
You nod. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Don't take this the wrong way. You're young, you're bound to make mistakes sometimes, but try harder from now on, okay?" John stands up, walks around the desk and puts his hand on your shoulder. "You're a good reporter, kiddo. I really liked your coverage of the Tenleytown case."
You smile. "Thanks, sir."
"Don't thank me yet. We'll see how you do tomorrow. Now, if you two don't mind, I have a phone call I need to attend to. Don't fuck up, okay?"
And with that, he goes back to the desk and signals for you two to leave his office. Thomas accompanies you outside. He's carrying a stack of files.
"So, I take it you're new to the Capital." He mentions, hoping to start a conversation.
"Yes, I used to live in New York before. Moved there during college. After that, I got a job there and decided to stay. You know how it goes."
"Sounds fancy. NYU?"
"No, Columbia."
"Oh, well. I went to..."
You interrupt him. "Let me guess...Princeton?"
"What gave it away?"
"The fact that you didn't answer my question."
"TouchĂŠ." He laughs. "Still, I can't believe you came all the way here just to join the WTOP team. Have you seen the traffic?" You two keep talking until you reach your desk. He tells you he holds a Masters in English, something that makes you think heâd get along well with Spencer if they were to meet. You also learn that he likes to go out drinking on the weekends, but only if he can find a nice place that doesn't have too many hipsters.
There's a bizarre magic to finding the right editor who understands the stories you're passionate about, deals with all the internal newsroom drama necessary to get your story what it needs, and makes your work better. He is responsible for checking facts, spelling, grammar, and punctuation. Heâs the one that ensures that all your articles correspond with in-house style guides and feel polished and refined when done.
â
Your work day stretches until late once again. You're tired and worn out after having stayed late at work the last few days, but you have a deadline to meet and you know it's better to finishing things off before you have a chance to relax. Thomas approaches you with a cup of coffee in hand.
"How're you doing?" He asks.
"Busy as usual." You sip on your coffee.
"Don't tell me about it. No one tells you about the long hours we put in here. I mean, I knew there was a lot of work involved, but I hadn't realized just how much."
You nod in agreement, your computer shows it's almost 9 PM. "Shit, are you by any chance going home?"
"Sure," Thomas says. "I don't need to get back until the morning anyway. Where do you live?"
"A couple of blocks from Woodley Park. I guess it's technically Adams Morgan but everyone calls it 'the other' one."
"Oh, I live close to Kalorama Park. That's where I'm headed now. Think we could catch the train together?"
"That would be great." You smile. You soon find out Thomas loves to talk. He's a guy who knows his way around town, so you're always learning new things about DC while he tells you about the places you haven't yet seen. As you two walk to your apartment, which is the same general direction as Thomas', he's telling you about some article he was reading on the Atlantic and you tune out for a while.
"Earth to Y/N!" He says.
"Sorry," you mumble, looking at him with a guilty expression.
"I saw you staring off into space just now. I was just asking you what you're doing this weekend. You know, since we're not going to work."
"I don't have plans."
"Well, why don't you come to my house? Kyle would love to have someone over. He makes the best lasagna ever, plus I'd love to have an extra set of hands in the kitchen. We'll make some cocktails and watch some TV." He offers.
You suddenly remember Spencer's text. "Shit."
Thomas looks confused at your reaction. "What's wrong?"
"There's this guy I'm seeing...I mean, I think I am. We went to the theater a couple days ago, I just remembered I haven't answered his texts. I really should call him."
"Whoa, slow down. Slow down, Y/N. Tell me everything."
You tell him about your date with Spencer, including how you felt afterwards. "Wow." He seems in shock. "He's really an agent? Not just some big city police officer?"
"Yes, he's a special agent. Works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit."
His eyes widen slightly. Then he gives you this warm smile. "Wow, that really is something else. Must be some sort of genius."
"Yeah, he is."
"Out of curiosity, can I see what he sent you?"
"Sure." You pull up the message. "This is it."
"It sounds like he meant every word." You look up at Thomas. His eyes are filled with warmth and affection. "He sounds sweet. So... Do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Miss him."
"Um..." You hesitate. "We've only been on one date. Maybe he doesn't want anything serious right now.â
"You're not answering my question", he teases.
You feel your face flush red. You bite your lip as you try to figure out how to answer. "I... I actually do." You admit. "I miss him."
"So I take it you'll go out with him again? To get a good idea of whether or not he wants more than just a casual relationship?"
"I hope so."
"Then, please, let him know. Make sure he knows you're interested." Thomas nods. You debate whether you should follow his advice and text Spencer. Or maybe you shouldn't even bother trying at all. He's probably busy.
â
Spencer spends his whole day wondering when you'll reply. He begins to lose hope. He's usually really good at avoiding looking at his phone during work, but he lacks the willpower to do so, for the first time in a long while. He's been more withdrawn than usual. He falls asleep in the jet questioning why he's so anxious about your reply, his mind going down a dark and twisting path, one heâs not so sure if heâll find a way out.
When the team arrives at Quantico, Spencer is the last one to board off the plane. He takes a deep breath as he takes the elevator and checks his phone. When he looks down at the his phone, he realizes you've sent him a message:
08:42 PM Y/N: Hey Spence! Sorry I haven't reached out yet. I've been so busy with work lately. Funny thing you've asked, I do miss you. I'd love to see you soon. Let me know if you're free tonight. Hope all is well with you. XX
His heart leaps into his throat. Spencer smiles from ear to ear. His eyes keep darting back to your words on the screen. He feels his heart racing as he reads them over again and again. He rests his body against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. He's so distracted by his own thoughts he doesn't even realize Derek has made an appearance behind him until Derek speaks. "What are you doing?"
Derek asks, sounding curious rather than annoyed or worried. Spencer shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it. The words just won't come. "When youâre gonna tell me about whatever it is that youâre hiding?â
Spencer snaps out of his daze, pressing his lips into a tight line as he says, "I'm not hiding anything.â Itâs a fib, but one Spencer utters almost without thinking, adopting a nonchalance heâs perfected over years of lying to his coworkers about his whereabouts, his weekend plans, and most importantly, his love life.
"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," Derek replies, shaking his head. "You've been checking your phone at least every fifteen minutes for the whole day and that's coming from the guy who is a self-proclaimed technophobe. Come on, that might work with Garcia or JJ, but you know I'm pretty perceptive. Tell me what's going on inside that big brain of yours.â
Spencer sighs heavily, "You don't understand."
"No, I guess I don't," Derek says, placing his hands on his hips. "If you're not hiding something then why are you acting like a nervous little puppy?"
"I'm just thinking about a text I got. That's all."
"Is it from a special friend by any chance? Is that why you're acting so weird?"
Spencer feels his cheeks flush. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. "It's from a friend of mine."
"Okay, so why can't you tell me who she is?"
âI just like my privacy, okay? Canât a guy have that?â
âOf course you are allowed to keep things to yourself, but you're the worst at keeping secrets. Besides, a little bird told me you went on a date with⌠Whatâs her name again?â
âY/N is her name, weâŚ" Spencer can't control the smile that takes over his face. When he realizes this, he quickly pulls himself together, feigning an expression of surprise, his voice getting higher: "Wait, what? Who told you that?â
Spencer knows all his colleagues make their own assumptions at his reluctance to share about his (very nonexistent) romantic life. He also knows that they speculate about his well-being after what happened to Maeve. Still, canât he have something for himself, once in his life? Something that he doesnât have to share with anyone.
âI ainât no snitch, Reid. But Iâm happy for you, my man. You deserve some happiness after all you've been through. So how about you be a good boy and tell me everything about her, huh?â
âWe've been on just one date. And it wasn't even an official one.â
"And do you plan on asking her out for another one? You know, officially?"
"I don't know. We havenât talked about that yet."
âSo what are you waiting for, pretty boy? Ask her out already!"
"It's not that simple. She's super busy and I need to figure out how to make time for us. I'd love to take her out to dinner again, butâ"
âOh, please! Sounds like an excuse. I know it's hard but don't overthink it. Just ask her out. That's all you have to do, the worst she can say is no."
"What if she says yes?"
"Then it'll be perfect."
Spencer shakes his head, unable to believe that Derek would be so naĂŻve about these things. It's not that easy to just ask someone out. "I don't want history to repeat itself, that's all." Spencer admits. "After Maeve, I'm terrified of being hurt again. I'm afraid of getting involved with someone. I'm afraid they'll be hurt again."
"I know it's hard, but you're not the same anymore. Don't let that fear stop you from living your life, Reid. Life is short. Hell, it's shorter than we think."
"Thanks, Derek. I needed to hear that today."
"Anytime. Now, do you mind using that big brain of yours to fill out some paperwork? We have a lot of folders to get through."
Spencer nods. âSure.â
â
It takes him around an hour to finish things up and get home. He takes a quick shower before climbing into bed. He starts to work on a reply to your text as soon as his head hits the pillow.
10:49 PM Spencer đâď¸: Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you! I just couldn't seem to find the right words. I hope you don't hate me for that. If you want, we could have dinner this Thursday?
Spencer sends the message. He looks at his phone and waits for a reply. Minutes pass, he checks the screen to see if you've sent anything else. Nothing. Spencer sighs in disappointment and sets the phone aside. He closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep. But sleep doesn't come easily to him. He feels defeated. Maybe you were never really interested. Or maybe you found someone new? He's so confused.
He rolls onto his side, his head resting on the pillow. He tries to sleep. His mind wanders to the day he met you. How crazy to think it was pure coincidence. He's reliving all your conversations in his head when his phone lights up. It's a text from you.
10:52 PMÂ Y/N: That sounds good. I'll see you then :) Let me know the time and place.
Spencer opens his eyes as he reads the last part of your text. 'See you then.' He finds himself smiling as he falls asleep.
#criminal minds fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid moodboard#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fluff#cbs criminal minds#spencer x reader#spencer x you#spencer x y/n#dr reid#dr reid x reader#dr reid x you#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#bau team
45 notes
¡
View notes
Text
we all joke about and objectify this man, but do we stop to think how sad his story is? he grew up friendless and ruthlessly bullied for being a literal genius. constantly picked on by his coworkers, and heâs never in on the joke. heâs always being laughed at, never laughed with because no one understands his existentialist humor. he never has plans or places to go on the weekend after work. he goes to work then goes to his lonely home with all his books to keep him company. on occasion, he haunts the chess table at the park or meets with an old professor. no one takes the time to appreciate his weird little quirks. no one took the time to ask him if he was okay after the several traumatic incidents he endured. no one takes care of him because everyoneâs too busy leaving. he could be a male model, yet heâs never thought of himself as attractive. when he does find love, heâs brutally stripped of it before he can blink. spencer reid, the lonely genius who learned of love too late and loss too soon.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#nerdy spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid edit#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x fem reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x plus size reader#spencer reid x luke alvez
5K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Drunk on You
Summary: Spencer is completely and utterly infatuated with you
Request: Pussy drunk Spencer where itâs the first time they sleep together and heâs completely obsessed with being inside her and eating her out (initially requested to @imagining-in-the-margins)Â
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Category: SmutÂ
Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected penetrative sex, slight overstimulation
Word Count:Â 2.2k
Masterlist
Maybe it was a bit clichĂŠ to invite Spencer into your apartment for coffee after your date. The ulterior motive was obvious but there was no elegant way of telling him what you really wanted. He didnât seem to mind when he accepted your offer with a grin on his face.Â
The tension between the two of you was palpable once you stepped through your door. The warm amber of Spencerâs irises shone even brighter under the lighting of your living room. It was mesmerizing to look at him, so much so that you quickly forgot about the coffee.Â
Spencer couldnât care less. It was obvious that he knew a hot beverage wasnât exactly what you craved right then. The way he licked his lips as he looked at you gave away that he was longing for something else, too.Â
Stepping closer, you left barely any space between the two of you. The warmth he radiated penetrated your skin and spread through your body. You breathed in his scent, a pleasant mix of his cologne and laundry detergent.Â
âSo,â you teased as you leaned closer. âAre you gonna kiss me now or what?âÂ
âGladly,â he chuckled.Â
To your surprise, he took his time with you. His fingers found your jaw, gently brushing along your skin before slightly tilting your head. His other hand made contact with your waist to pull you even closer. Then, unhurriedly and with a precise motion, he finally leaned in to close the distance.Â
Once your mouths made contact there was no more holding back, though. His lips were soft yet demanding and he didnât waste any time to deepen the kiss. Tasting you broke any resistance Spencer had and he couldnât keep up his demeanor anymore.Â
His fingertips dug into your waist before you felt them trembling against your body. His tongue brushed over yours as if you had finally granted him the first taste of water after a life-long drought. When your hands found the nape of his neck to playfully tug at his curls, he unabashedly moaned against your lips.Â
Spencer was desperate to make you his and he had no intention of hiding that from you. His lips only left yours to gasp for air before kissing you some more. When you wanted to lean back to look at him, he chased your mouth and immediately closed the distance again.
His enthusiasm made you smile into the kiss and he noticed. That was when he finally slowed down, leaving a few more feather-light pecks on your mouth before leaning back.Â
âSorry,â he awkwardly laughed. âIâve been waiting so long to do this.âÂ
âDon't apologize,â you breathed. âI like how eager you are.âÂ
To prove your words, you took his hand in yours to lead him into your bedroom. Spencer wasnât the only one who had been waiting too long for this to finally happen. You had no intention of acting shy with him when it was clear how much the both of you yearned for each otherâs nearness.Â
Right beside your bed you came to a halt and turned to him. Patiently he watched as you undid the buttons of his dress shirt and brushed the fabric over his shoulders. Once the shirt dropped to the floor, your hands wandered along the waistband of his pants.Â
Your eyes followed the movements of your fingers and you couldnât ignore the outline of his hardness straining against his trousers. You looked at the man in front of you and found him staring at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes.Â
âCan I touch you?â You asked and he nodded.Â
Your palm carefully made contact with his clothed cock and a sigh immediately escaped Spencerâs throat. He leaned into your touch and twitched against the fabric of his confines. You decided to free him as you undid his pants and slowly pulled them down together with his underwear.Â
As you took your time to admire the beauty of your lover, you completely forgot your surroundings. Only Spencerâs hand brushing along your arm brought you back to reality. You locked eyes with him again and felt your cheeks heating up.Â
âYouâre so handsome,â you mumbled.Â
His hand found the fabric of your shirt and tugged on it as he cooed, âI want to see you, too.â
Together you got rid of the remaining pieces of clothing until both of you were completely bare. You lay down on the mattress to continue kissing without any barriers between your bodies.Â
Spencer hovered over you when he began kissing down your neck. He left sweet pecks on your skin before biting down on your pulse point, drawing a whine from your lips. To soothe the angry skin, he carefully licked along it before moving further down your body.Â
âYou smell so good,â he groaned as he kissed your breasts. âI canât get enough of you.âÂ
He took one of your hardened peaks into his mouth while his hand found the other, teasing it with his fingers until you couldnât hold back your moans. When he heard your hymn of praise, he hummed into your skin.Â
Hungry lips found one another once more. âYou are marvelous,â Spencer mumbled into the kiss.Â
While he was distracted with his mouth on yours, a curious hand made its way down his body to wrap around his erection. It made him whimper against your lips. Your fingers brushed over velvety skin until they found the weeping tip to spread his arousal over it.Â
âFuck!â he hissed as he looked down his body to watch your hand caressing him.Â
âDo you like that?â you teased as you kept stroking him a little harder.Â
His hand found your wrist to stop your movements. âYeah, a little too much,â he confessed and his words made you smile.Â
You let go of him and watched as his fingertips danced along your chest and down your stomach until they reached their destination between your legs. Tentatively, he let one finger glide along your slit before spreading your folds apart. When he found you already dripping with desire, he groaned, âSo wet for me.âÂ
He collected your dew on his fingertips and dragged it along your folds before circling your most sensitive spot. The sounds of your pleasure only spurred him further on, caressing you some more before he breached your entrance with two digits, finding little resistance from your body.Â
Spencer kissed along your neck as he curled his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot that made you light-headed and let your walls flutter around him. He seemed to relish feeling your body like this, taking his time to explore your core before settling on a steady pace. It didnât take long for you to dance along the edge of euphoria.Â
His lips brushed along your ear as he whispered, âI canât wait to fuck you.âÂ
That was all it took for your undoing. Spencer groaned as he felt you pulsing around his fingers, your entire body writhing as you found relief. You were still panting when he withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the loss of contact.Â
With a playful smirk spread over his face, he brought his hand to his mouth to lick your release from his fingers, savoring the taste of your cunt on his tongue.Â
âYou taste so good,â he breathed before moving down your body. âI need more.â
Before he could settle down between your thighs, you grabbed his shoulders. The feeling of being empty was overwhelming and you yearned to be filled out by him. Even though the prospect of having his mouth on you was exciting, it was not what you needed then.Â
âI need you inside me now,â you whimpered. âPlease, Spencer.âÂ
He kneeled between your legs when he chuckled, âHow could I say no to that?âÂ
Hurriedly and with little grace you reached over to your nightstand to get a condom from the drawer. Spencer didnât waste any more time when he took the wrapper from your hands to put the condom on. As he leaned over you, you watched him closing his eyes for a moment before he aligned his cock at your entrance.Â
Then, after locking eyes with you, he began pushing his hips against yours. He hissed a curse at the sensation of slowly stretching you open one inch at the time. When he dared to look down between your bodies, he got so overwhelmed at the sight of his cock entering you that he almost came on the spot.Â
Quickly, he averted his sight to get his composure back. Your walls fluttered around him and you felt him twitch in response. Once he had filled you up to the hilt, he took a moment to feel your heartbeat deep inside you.Â
âSpencer,â you whined as you began rocking your hips against his. âPlease!âÂ
He didnât mean to tease you or test your patience. He just wanted to fully savor this moment. Feeling you tightly wrapped around him made his head spin. He felt inebriated when he began moving and started to think you had cast some kind of spell on him.Â
âYou feel so good,â he breathed when he began moving. âSo tight for me.âÂ
Pure magic was the only explanation for what you made him feel. Spencer struggled to wrap his head around the fact that this was reality. Nothing else mattered other than being right there with you, making you his as he fucked you against the mattress.Â
âHarder!â you cried and Spencer obliged.Â
It proved to be a mistake, though. As he watched you quiver underneath him, the bedframe shaking with his forceful thrusts, he struggled to delay his downfall. Feeling you getting even tighter around him made it impossible to not fully indulge in this sensation.Â
With his whole body trembling, he tried but failed to slow himself down. Desperation was written over his face as he attempted to prolong the feeling of being inside you. Of course you noticed it, too. Seeing him fall apart on top of you as pleasure overcame him was exhilarating and you had no intention of slowing him down. Â
âCome for me,â you murmured and Spencerâs eyes widened at your words.Â
Then, with a particularly hard thrust, he did. Trembling and groaning, the built-up tension was released as his climax washed over him.Â
Before you had a chance to wrap your arms around him to welcome him inside your embrace, he pulled out of you and quickly moved down your body. With your head still spinning, it took you several seconds to realize what he was doing.Â
Only when you felt his tongue glide through your folds did you comprehend that he had found his new home between your legs.Â
âOh fuck, Spencer!â You hissed at the feeling of his mouth caressing your sensitive center.Â
Like a man starved he collected your honeyed wetness on his tongue, moaning into your skin as he tasted your heady aroma. The vibrations he created sent shockwaves through your body, prompting you to buck your hips against his face.
Seemingly unfazed by your reaction, he wrapped his arms around your legs to keep you in place as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue and mouth.Â
âSo good,â he whispered against your heat.Â
Despite his effort to hold you securely against his mouth, you were sure you might start floating at any moment. Two of his fingers found their way into you, adding more pressure and bringing you closer to your undoing.Â
It only took a few more seconds until ecstasy overcame you. Your thighs trembled as you rode out your high, rocking gently against Spencerâs face. He didn't let go of you, though. Almost in a trance-like state he kept caressing you, licking up your release as you writhed underneath him.Â
Your chest was heaving when you looked at him, eyes closed and half of his face buried between your legs. Spencer didn't even consider stopping, not when you tasted so heavenly, even more so after you came. Drunk on your taste and scent, he would have been more than happy to spend the rest of his night right there.Â
It became too overwhelming for you, though. The constant stimulation was too much to bear and almost became uncomfortable, so your hands found his curls to pull on them. âEnough,â you murmured.
In an instant, he removed his mouth from your core to litter your inner thighs with little kisses. Then he looked up at you, a wicked grin painted on his glistening face. He wiped himself clean with the back of his hand before plopping down beside you.Â
âSorry, uhâŚâ he muttered. âI got a little carried away.âÂ
You placed a kiss on his lips, noticing your own scent still lingered on them.Â
âIâm not complaining,â you purred. âI just need a little break. We can continue later.âÂ
The glimmer in his eyes at your words must have been akin to someone witnessing a miracle. Content with the prospect of doing all of this again, he wrapped you into his arms.Â
Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.
Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
#spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fluff
5K notes
¡
View notes
Text
a love song for lady earth | s.r.
in which reader has her first experience with munch!spencer
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: oral (fem receiving), munch!spencer, a little bit of overstim, d/s dynamics if you spin in circles and then squint, pwp, cumming untouched, fingering, dirty talk, a little praise word count: 2.16k a/n: this one goes out to everyone who's ever gotten shitty head from shitty guys. also to people who like their men a little pathetic.
âWhat are you doing?â Your voice comes out higher than you anticipated. The slight panic in your tone sets your boyfriend on high alert, his eyebrows rising in curiosity as he hovers over you.
Spencer pulls himself up until you meet his eyes, concern and lust fusing together to create nothing short of confusion. He studies your expression, investigating your interruption with the kind of delicacy that he always has when approaching intimacy, âBaby,â he starts, âHave you ever received oral sex before?â
Your lips part in surprise, wondering why thatâs the conclusion he comes to, âI have,â you respond hesitantly. âI justââ you falter, âYou donât have to.â
His confusion deepens, âI donât have to what?â
âYou donât have to give me head,â you answer timidly, âBecause itâs notâ you just donât have to.â
Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. âItâs not what? Now you have to tell me.â
You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that wonât set your cheeks ablaze, âI donât like it, and I know guys donât like it. So, you just⌠we can skip that part.â
âJust out of curiosity, what about it donât you like?â Spencer asks, sitting up fully between your legs, one hand resting on your knee, keeping your legs parted.
Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, âI just donât get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.â
âAh,â Spencer breathes, âSo, youâve never received good oral sex before,â he amends his previous question.
Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, âIâm not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.â
He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, âDo you trust me?â
You frown, âOf course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?â
âWould you be willing to let me go down on you?â The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didnât know any better, youâd think he wants to eat you out.
Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, âDo you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.â
Spencer raises his eyebrows, âThen I guess that demographic doesnât apply to me.â
âOh,â you breathe, âYou can⌠We can try,â you offer. Nerves twist in your lower belly as his eyes widen ever so slightly, your eyes fall shut as he leans his head forward, pressing his lips to yours while his hand starts to pull at the waistband of your panties.
Your boyfriendâs lips are almost unfairly soft against your own as his hands continue to undress you, pushing your t-shirt up around your waist and pulling down your underwear to the middle of your thighs. Pressing his forehead against yours, Spencer pulls away ever so slightly, âYou can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?â
Nodding, you canât help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner youâve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouthâhe certainly was good at running it. âYes,â you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.
âThank you,â he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before youâd stopped him. Spencer lazily drags your panties down your legs, flinging them across the room to be found later before dropping his head between your knees, littering small, slow kisses along the insides of your thighs. âPretty girl,â he hums, inspecting your glistening sex with peaked interest.
Your cunt clenches around nothing at his words, earning a chuckle from Spencer as he set on top of your mound, pulling the skin taut before blowing cool air on you. You jump in response, looking down at where heâs smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, youâd never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.
He hums absentmindedly, âJust making sure youâre paying attention,â he teases.
There could be an air raid siren going off and youâd still be too focused on him to take cover. His movements are calculated as he exposes your clit to the air, leaning his head down and pressing his tongue flat against your folds, licking a stripe before readjusting himself on the bed.
A constellation of feather-light kisses is left everywhere, your inner thighs, up toward your hip boneâeverywhere except where you really need him. Your clit aches with need as he continues to tease you, the pad of his thumb skimming ever so slightly over the sensitive bud, relieving only a fraction of the pressure thatâs building up. âSpence,â you breathe.
âAre you enjoying this?â He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.
You nod once, âAre you?â You challenge.
His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, âImmensely.â
Spencer continues but doesnât move on, studying your anatomy so intently that it only serves to turn you on even more. His hand ghosts over your folds, running a finger over your slit and chuckling when your hips buck up in response to the stimulation.
He couldâve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you wouldâve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasnât what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.
âYouâre just so fucking perfect,â he murmurs, watching you intently.
Before you had a chance to reply, his mouth was on you again, his tongue deftly slipping between your folds and poking at your entrance. Other than working you up, you didnât feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragementâat least he tried, and at least youâd be wet enough for sex.
Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and thatâs where he finally got you. His tongue pressed firmly against the bundle of nerves as you squirm beneath him, your body moving faster than your brain as your hips move away from his mouth, âShh,â Spencer coos, âItâs okay, baby. I know itâs a lot. Iâve got you.â
Taking a deep shuddering breath, you nod. You open your mouth to form a reply, but the only thing that comes out is a breathy sigh.
Carefully, Spencer moves your legs, placing your thighs on top of his shoulders, giving you one more glance before diving back in, kitten-licking your clit while you try to catch your breath.
âSpence,â you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadnât thought was possible building in your lower belly. A swarm of nerves and aches of pleasure thrumming through your body like electricity.
He readjusts, lifting his head more so that his lips can wrap around the sensitive nub, his mouth gently suckling on it.
At a loss for what to do with your hand, they find their way down to his head, weaving your fingers through his hair as his ministrations drive you closer and closer to an orgasm. Tugging at the soft curls earns a groan from him, the vibrations on your clit causing you to cry out, âOh my god.â
He drops one of your legs, moving his hand up to grab one of yours before you cum, squeezing his hand as he gently nips at your clit, further encouraging your orgasm.
âIâmâ ah, please,â you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencerâs mouth continues working at you, licking softly as your back arches off of the bed, sweat causing the sheets to stick to your skin.
Your thighs are trembling by the time Spencer comes back up, his mouth shining with your arousal as he breathes as heavily as you. His hand cups your sensitive sex when he leans forward, leaning in to kiss your lips.
The taste of yourself on his lips doesnât even cross your mind as you cup the back of his head and pull his mouth to yours. The tang of your own cunt on your tongue draws a moan from the back of your throat, and you jump when one of Spencerâs fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.
âCan I go back?â Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.
Your mouth gapes, âYou want more?â
He groans in response, âAngel, Iâd spend all day between your thighs if youâd let me.â
Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, âI might just take you up on that someday.â
Lifting your body from the pillows, Spencer tugs your t-shirt the rest of the way off your body, leaving you fully nude in front of him, âFuck,â he groans, gently guiding your back to the mattress as he attaches his lips to your neck, leaving your fingers clawing at his back.
His head moves lower, nipping and sucking at your collarbones, leaving light marks as he makes his way down to your chest. His lips scatter kisses all along your breasts as he moves down, down, down. Right until heâs right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. âOh,â you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.
âPoor baby,â Spencer coos at your sensitivity, âYouâre doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.â
You sigh dazedly in response, every thought in your mind evacuating as his mouth drops to your pussy again, languidly lapping at your cunt while his finger eases into you, âYouâre so good at this.â
He hums against you in response, the vibrations causing your body to shudder and your hands to return to their home in his hair. The feeling of his mouth gently sucking on that little bundle of nerves and his finger starting to thrust makes your walls clench.
A strangled moan escapes your mouth when he adds a second finger, his second and third fingers driving into you with a steady rhythm as his tongue flicks your clit in calculated movements. The recognition of your impending orgasm hits you, ââm close,â you breathe, gasping as his movements donât relent, tears prick at your eyes as you chase that high.
Spencer pushes your legs further apart with his spare hand, keeping your thighs from closing around his head as he moans against your cunt. You pull on his hair, eliciting another groan from him that sends you hurtling into your second orgasm, crying out his name like a prayer as he tapers off his ministrations.
His hand slows first, gently working you through your orgasm as his tongue laps at your clit, gentle movements soothing the hypersensitive spot as you catch your breath, tears trickling down your cheeks as you smooth out the hair on his head. He pulls away from you, releasing your trembling thighs and letting them fall around him as he tiredly rests his head on your abdomen. âSpence,â you whisper, combing your fingers through his hair, causing him to rest his chin on you, meeting your eyes as he wipes your slick from his mouth.
He hums a response, âMy love,â he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.
You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, âDo⌠do you need me?â Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.
âUh,â he says, equally as unsure, âThatâs not necessary.â
You raise your eyebrows, âItâs not like I feel inclined to, but Iâd like to⌠to return the favor.â
Spencer shakes his head, âNo, I mean Iâm taken care of. I alreadyâŚâ his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.
âOh,â you breathe, âOh.â Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, âWell Iâm glad you enjoyed yourself.â Desperately. You were trying desperately not to laugh at the prospect of your boyfriend cumming in his briefs.
He rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. He seems almost proud, and you suppose itâs not often that a man finishes from giving head. âSo,â he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, âDid you enjoy it?â
You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing heâs changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? âImmensely,â you answer.
#kinktober 2024#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#kinktober#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours#margotober
4K notes
¡
View notes
Note
hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and heâs like âlemme help youâ andâŚ
you do you for the rest!
in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.
warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love
a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!
Itâs not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopenedâbut here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the womenâs bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied.Â
Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injuryâespecially when youâre at work and so canât take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means itâs taking longer than it should, so now youâre focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things itâs secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details.Â
A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name.Â
âYou in there?â
The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, âyeah, whatâs up? Is it Hotch?â you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You donât even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. âTell him I didnât forget our meeting, Iâll be there inââ
âItâs not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but youâve been in there a while.â
You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror.Â
âActuallyâcould you come in here?â
Thereâs a pause.Â
âYou want me to come into the womenâs restroom?â
âYes, Spencer. Itâs fine. Thereâs nobody else in here. I just⌠I need some help, I think.â
The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If youâre asking for help, itâs because you really need it.Â
âWhat do you need help with?â he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort.Â
âItâs gross, and you can totally say no.â
He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. Itâs not your fault, and the gore is not specific to youâanyoneâs body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.
âThat doesnât look good,â he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiarâthe drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lipsâbut it takes a moment before you realize what it is.Â
âReid,â you complain. Heâs still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.
âWhat?â
âYouâre looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.â
His nose scrunches.
Some might say it scrunches adorably.Â
âNo, Iâm not. Thatâs just my face.â
âOkay, well stop. Itâs freaking me out.â
He poutsâactually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. Itâs ridiculously endearing.Â
âMy face freaks you out?â
âWhâno! Thatâs not what I said! You haveâyou have a great face! I didnât meanââÂ
You manage to claw yourself out of the hole youâre digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face.Â
Oh. He was fucking with you.Â
He never used to do that. Itâs unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when itâs Spencer.Â
âWhat did you need me for?â Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them. Â
âUmâI just need you to put this bandage over it. I canât reach without taking my shirt off.â
And now youâre forced to wonder if heâs thinking about you shirtless as much as youâre thinking about you shirtless.
âYeahâdonât do that,â he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.
For some reason, this offends you.Â
âWhy not?â
Spencer pulls another face as he washes his handsâyou love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when theyâre not pleasant and directed at you. Â
âAre you asking me why shouldnât you take your shirt off?â he clarifies.Â
âI know why I shouldnât take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldnât take my shirt off.â
âBecause weâre at work?â he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. âI mean, I canât stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.â
âOh, so me shirtless is weird?â
Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your backâwhere everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly.Â
âSorry,â he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesnât really hurtâit hurts much less than when youâre tending to the wound, anyway. Itâs almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. âAnd that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.â
The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as youâre shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic.Â
âWellââ
Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you.Â
âYour, umâI think yourâŚÂ brassiereâŚÂ is in the way.â
As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room.Â
âMy brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?â
His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He canât meet your eyes over your shoulder.Â
âThatâs what itâs called.â
âSpencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.â
âI donât want to,â he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back.Â
âWhy? How is brassiere better than bra?â
âItâsâitâs too colloquial! Iâm trying to be professional!â
âCall it a bra or Iâm going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,â you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately.Â
âOh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and gâdo not do that!â
âSee? How hard was that?â
âI hate you,â he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. âAnd you still have to take it off.â
âExcuse me?â you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didnât mean it like that but itâs fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.
âOr at least undo it! Itâs in the way.â
With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your braâbut as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin.Â
âI canâtââ
âOkay, justâIâll do it,â Spencer says. âJust move your shirt again.â
So you do, watching his reflection as he works.
And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. Itâs quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirtâunintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate youâre realizing how touch-starved you are.Â
âYou do that often?â you find yourself asking, because youâre stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you canât help yourself even though you donât actually want to know the answer.Â
âI,â he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. âDo not think that is an appropriate workplace question.â
Something aches in the pit of your stomach.Â
Something resembling jealousy.Â
It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing theyâre discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I donât want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid.Â
Nor is it an easy yesâan admission between friends. He doesnât want to tell you.Â
You swallow and try to act like yourself.Â
âYet here you are, in the womanâs restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think weâre past professionalism.â
âWhen you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something itâs not. This is professional, because Iâm helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. Iâm being a good colleague.â
Your lips twist into a smile he canât see.Â
âA great colleague would kiss it better.â
âIt's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasingâyouâve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. âDoes that feel okay?â
You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure. Â
âItâs good. And heyâif I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think thatâs my best material? Thatâs just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. Youâd be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.â
He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp youâd had it onâand at that precise moment Emily walks in.Â
âHâwoah.â
âItâsâIâmâI was helping her!â Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively.Â
âOh, you helped me alright,â you tease, pulling your shirt back into place.Â
âDonât say it like that!â And then, to Emily, âI was changing out her bandage!â
âChanging my bandage,â you emphasize, winking more than is advisable.Â
âThatâsâthis is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!â Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. âIâm going to HR!â
âShut up! You love it!â
His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job.Â
You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring.Â
âWhat?â
âNothing,â she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. âYouâre just⌠you guys are funny.â
âWhat do you mean funny?â You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it.Â
âWhâI mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?â
You frown.Â
She makes a good point.Â
Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as youâd thought itâd be. Despite how cheery youâve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didnât need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting itâs even there because itâs on your backâitâs hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how youâd felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didnât know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when youâre asked to describe it all in excruciating detail.Â
It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time youâre leaving Hotchâs office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut.Â
When you open them, you realize thereâs a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. Youâre already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer.Â
On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl.Â
I would never report you to HR beautiful
That would be a stab in the back!
You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouthâbut youâve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen.Â
When you turn to look at Spencer, heâs not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But heâs got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.
Funny.Â
Maybe that is the right word for what you two are.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
7K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I like my men smart
#i need him#i am normal about this man#i want him#spencer reid#i love him#need him#spencer reid criminal minds#hes so babygirl#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#josh hutcherson#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid hands#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#five hargreeves#five hargreaves x reader#five hargreaves x you#five hargreeves x reader
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
sick love
spencer reid x fem! reader
pt2!!
synopsis;;
you catch your best friend spencer touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happenâŚ
cw;; (letâs act as if spencer and reader are the same age (consensual 18) in high school
really perv!spencer, dark themes, spencer uses readers body without implicit consent (i donât know if it counts as cnc since later we find out she doesnât mind), somnophilia (if you squint), INDECENT use of cum, stalker behavior, use of masculine sex toys, breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom spencer, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, hair pulling, blood⌠MINORS DNI OR IâLL COME FOR YOU!
@cafekitsune âs separators
Spencer was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed âthat tooâ but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were no where to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you invited Spencer for a sleep over.
Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in D.C in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been shared, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.
Full honesty? He didnât even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didnât care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living roomâs ceiling.
After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.
He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.
He liked to see you cry, but if it wasnât because of him, he wouldnât have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up,â and also, who would believe them if they said that the slender nerd of their class was the one that beat them upâ so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or youâll be.
You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, âFuck! I cant found my chapstick.â him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, heâd go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk â which he had under keyâ and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets⌠Panties.
He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs⌠He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, whichâs crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.
Another thing Spencer loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat⌠Being simply you.
But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body âfacing away from the door of your bathroomâ when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that youâd wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.
He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.
And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.
He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when youâd pull from it when heâd tickle you, and laughing when youâd scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.
He would steal food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. Youâd always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.
Spencer considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like youâd use a fucking toy. He had woke up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word âmommyâ.
Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.
Heâd prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.
So after a day full of what he thought of âteasingâ, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And thatâs what heâd do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. âYeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.â âThatâs a good girl for daddy.â Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldnât found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasnât your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.
He sometimes would leave his houseâs and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.
But they were all just dreams, they werenât supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.
That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. Youâd been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that youâd be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs âwhich spread sideways across from his â thumbs circling your soft skin.
The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Spencer was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.
âFuckâŚâ he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. âPlease, fuck me, pleaseâŚâ he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. âUse my cock, baby⌠Use meâŚâ he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that youâd torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. âFuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good⌠Ah, faster.â he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.
âSpence!!!â you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Spencer always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a book he had been dying to read for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been sold out. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the cityâs center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. âI have a surprise for you!!â you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didnât hear and answer from him. âSpencer?â you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.
âFuck, just like that. Faster, pleaseâŚâ was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Spencer fucking with some random girl that wasnât you. Youâve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasnât friendly, so, at the end, âbeing too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendshipâ you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.
Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that youâd leave once youâve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Spencer was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck⌠You needed to get away from there. Yeah, thatâs what youâd do. Youâd go back to your house and forget all about it⌠Or thatâs what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.
He looked so hot and pretty all needy⌠Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, glasses crooked, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lubeâs wet sounds fill the room. âAh, fuckâŚâ his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadnât bit down on your bottom lip.
Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friendâs lips. âFuck, y/nâŚ, mommyâŚ, please, fuck, fuck, fuckâŚâ your eyes widened, not only becauseâŚ, fuck, Spencer was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Spencerâs movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and book in hand.
He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. âFuck, y/n, IâŚâ he didnât even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him⌠Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. âHow much did you hear?â he cursed when you didnât answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.
âMommy.â you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the book fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.
âWâŚWhat?â fuck.
â âMommyâ. Thatâs what you called me.â you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. âWho would think that Spencer, the Genius Spencer Reid, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.â he stuttered as he shook his head.
âItâs not what it seems like, IâŚâ
âYou what?â you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. âAre you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?â he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. âMmh? Answer me.â you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ânoâ. â âNoâ what?â your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.
âNo, mommy.â you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. âPleaseâŚâ he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.
âOnly good boys get a kiss, Spence.â
âIâm a good boyâŚâ he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussyâŚ
âOh yeah?â he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. âThe why donât you show me?â he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. âWhy donât you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?â he moaned, muttering a âfuckâ as he nodded, making you smirk. âThen go ahead, baby, let me see.â you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.
In the state he was⌠He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.
He moaned when you sat down on his deskâs chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.
You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Spencerâs. It was big, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat youâd need to swallow when he came in your mouth. âAw, poor SpenceâŚâ you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. âCaught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesnât it baby?â he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. âAre you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Spencer?â he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.
Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.
âYes, yes, yesâŚâ he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. âFuckâŚâ he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. âFuck, fuck, fuck.â your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breastsâ hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingersâ and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. âShit, y/n.â
His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. âI need you. Need you so badâŚâ âPlease mommyâŚâ âIâm gonna cum, iâm gonna cumâŚâ
âOh yeah? You gonna cum?â You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. âLook at how pathetic you look.â he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. âHold it. I havenât even told you where to cum yet.â he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. âFuck, you are too fucking loud.â you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. âHere. Cum on my pussy.â you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.
You didnât even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. âGood boyâŚâ you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.
âFuck, fuck, fuckâŚ.â he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. Thatâs all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.
You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. âYou came again, baby?â he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. âFuck, SpencerâŚâ you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. âLook at you, making a mess of my cunt.â
âFuck, y/nâŚâ your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips⌠âPlease, can I⌠Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. Iâll make you feel good, I promise, Iâll be goodâŚâ you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. âI promise. I promise mommyâŚâ your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his hazel thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.
You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a âThe prettiest tits Iâve ever seen, fuck.â. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded it away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow âthe same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about youâ, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, âcause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.
He didnât waste time in parting your thighs âwhich he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years nowâ, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. âSpencerâŚâ you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin⌠He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy âwhich he had tasted before, but only clothedâ and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.
It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. Spencer knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. âFuck, Spencer, IâŚâ you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. âIâm gonna cum, Iâm gonna cumâŚâ you cried out, Spencer crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.
He moaned, begging for it. âPlease cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, pleaseâŚâ you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm youâve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Spencer drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.
You mewled when once youâve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. âPlease, just a little bit more, mommyâŚâ he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. âPlease, I need itâŚâ your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.
âIâll let you choose where to cum next, Spencer.â you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. âI could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourselfâŚâ his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. âOr you could cum inside of me.â his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. âWhat do you say, Spence? Where do you want to cum, baby?â he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling of his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.
âInside.â he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.
âOh yeah?â you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. âYou wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?â you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. âThen come here, Spence.â he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didnât even need since you were now entering your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. âFuck, baby, please fuck me Spencer, please, pleaseâŚâ you whimpered, and he didnât wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the otherâs as he bottomed out.
âFuck, so tight, mommy, so tight⌠Shit. Iâm gonna cum.â your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges youâd only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. âPlease y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to⌠I need toâŚâ
âGo ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?â he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. âOh fuck, yeah Spencer, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck meâŚâ
He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. âFuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyouâŚâ he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.
âFuck, Spencer, fuck, Iâm close, shit, Iâm gonna cumâŚâ you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.
âCum on my cock, mommy, please, please⌠Use me. Use meâŚâ he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.
The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. âSpencer, Spencer, SpencerâŚâ
âShit, Imma cum, Iâm cumming so fucking hard⌠Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonnaâŚ, fuck!â his thrusts became sloppier. âIm gonna cum, iâmcummingiâmcummingiâmcumming.âhips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering âmommyâ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.
âShit, fuck, Spencer. So goodâŚâ you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. âSpencer!â Though you really couldnât even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.
âYou didnât think I was done with you, were you, âmommyâ?â you could hear the teasing in his voice. âIâm sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didnât you?â you couldnât really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Spencer had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. âWell, I hope you did, âcause now is my fucking turn.â
-
i needed to.
#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#perv! spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x plus size reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!readr#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid cm#cm
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Bump Relief - S.R.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Content warning: fluff, pregnant reader
Word Count: 1.8K
Summary: Making you comfortable while you're pregnant is his number one priority, so he decides to give JJ's little trick a try
Request: maybe Spencer hearing from JJ or reading somewhere that holding the baby bump relieves the mother and decides to try it on his girlfriend/wife?Â
A/N: So a few days ago, I asked for short requests because I was dying to write something short. I sat down to write, and it got a little longer than I anticipated(I have no excuse). It's a known fact I can't write anything short, so I don't know why I try. I was going to post this tomorrow, but I really needed the serotonin I get from posting a fic, so enjoy!Â
masterlist | requests are closed!
Spencer was twirling a pen between his fingers, deep in thought. All of his thoughts were about you because of course they were.Â
He thought about you while he fell in love, proposed, and watched you walk down the aisle towards him. You occupied every waking moment when he wasnât focused on his work, friends and mother, or hobbies. You were a constant in his life, and have been for years.Â
But heâd been thinking about you a lot more in the last 6 months, and especially the last few days. About you, and the little angel.
At 34 weeks pregnant, you were glowing from the inside, just as beautiful as youâd been in your wedding dress. Or thatâs what Spencer saw when he looked at you.Â
But along with all the beauty of growing your little one came the few negatives, some of which he couldnât help but notice too. How you hadnât been wearing your wedding rings since the start of your third trimester.Â
Or the light sheen of sweat on your brow just going up the stairs to your apartment. Or even the discomfort at the small of your back from carrying all the weight around. The small winces he heard coming from you, along with the scrunch in your eyes and nose.Â
He wanted to take a part of your discomfort and bear it as his own. Heâd watched you grow this little bean inside you for months, fight the morning sickness, and the only thing heâd been able to do was hold your hair and rub your back, watching as you suffered through it.Â
Or the changes in your body, your clothes not fitting, or sometimes feeling like an outsider in your own skin. Heâd been able to offer reassuring words, and kisses laid across your whole body, any point that sparked an insecurity in you - worshiped.Â
Heâd wake up in the middle of the night to satisfy your weird food cravings, or even the desire to have him as a snack.Â
Heâd been to every appointment with you - held your hand, wiped your tears, or kissed the crown of your head. Youâd heard the heartbeat together, where heâd spoken in your ear, thankful to you for giving him the greatest gift of all to come in a few short months - being a dad. Something heâd wished for, for years, sometimes even thinking heâd never get to experience it.Â
But thatâs as far as he could help you and god, he wished he could do more.Â
He didnât hear JJ approaching and wasnât even paying attention when she called his name out softly. And then again, and again.Â
Snapping her fingers in front of his face worked like a charm though.Â
âYes?â He asked, after a light shake of his head to clear his thoughts.Â
âWhereâd you go Spence?â She leaned against his desk, giving his shoulder a small squeeze in support, âEverything okay?âÂ
âYeah, yeah. Everythingâs good,â He didnât look or sound convincing, and watching JJâs brow arch in question, he sighed, âWell, okay, not everything.âÂ
âWhatâs going on? Are Y/N and the baby okay?â She asked a frantic worry in her voice.
âTheyâre good and healthy,â Spencer confirmed, watching her let a sigh of her own. He decided then and there to seek her advice. She was his friend, and seeing as sheâd been a mom twice now, she knew exactly what you were going through.Â
âSheâs been feeling uncomfortable, carrying the weight of the little bean around,â He smiled, simply mentioning his child softened everything within him, âAnd I see her trying not to show it that much, but itâs clearly exhausting her even more, and I wish there was something I could do to help, you know?â He sounded so small at that moment, rubbing his wedding band, feeling like he was failing you somehow.Â
He knew that wasnât possible, you told him daily how proud you were of him and everything he did and has done for you, but even now, he couldnât help but worry sometimes.Â
âWell, thereâs this one thing that worked wonders for me when I was pregnant with Henry, and Michael too.â She started before she shared her little secret.
You breathed in deep, moving around yet again, and then exhaled a long breath.Â
Your couch was one of the most comfortable things in the apartment - at least it had been before youâd started popping. Now it felt more like the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever, but you knew that was just your inability to get comfortable - well, anywhere really.Â
It was a struggle finding a way to feel good, but not like your baby was sitting on your bladder, or putting more pressure on your back than needed. You had roughly 6 more weeks to go, but you already felt about ready to pop.Â
Your bean was grown in size - with a tall daddy like your husband, you werenât even that surprised. You somehow knew that theyâd take even more than his height - you hoped theyâd inherit his best characteristics too. His love for learning, his calmness, and most of all his heart. Maybe his hair too - you loved his hair. And his smile. God you simply loved him.
You couldnât wait for him to get home - the only time you felt like your whole body could relax was whenever he was with you, one hand or both thrown over your bump in a protective manner, talking to you and your baby quietly.Â
You tried a few more times to get comfortable, a few different positions - leaning on your left, your right, or even with your back straight, and nothing worked. Â
Another deep exhale left you and you simply gave up - lying on your back and praying for no uncomfortable sensations for at least a few minutes.Â
Just as you felt your eyes droop - you wanted a few minutes to simply breathe - you felt a little kick to your left. It didnât hurt, luckily for you, your little one seemed to be a pretty calm, small bundle so it wasnât often any cry for attention left you rattled.
You did let out a little chuckle, rubbing the spot. As you rubbed at your stomach, small kick after small kick under your hand, you heard a key being inserted into the lock - the door opening and closing, keys rattling on the key hanger next to the door.Â
âSweetheart? Where are my girls?â He asked, as you heard the familiar sounds of him hanging his jacket and satchel, and taking off his shoes. Youâd decided the gender would be a surprise, but Spencer insisted that it was a girl - you had a feeling he wanted to be a girl dad.Â
You raised a hand, waving in the direction of the door, not wishing to move now, âWeâre here, love.â
You didnât attempt to push yourself up, you just stayed where you were, rubbing your belly and waiting for your husband to make his way over.Â
Sure enough, just a few seconds later he was kneeling next to the couch close to your head, moving pieces of hair away from your face.
âHi.â He whispered before he leaned down and laid a series of small kisses all over your face - one on each cheek, one on your forehead and nose, finishing with a gentle press of his lips against yours. It still made a small shiver run through you, just like it always did.
âHi.â You returned when he pulled away, watching him as he leaned towards your belly then, kissing just next to where your hands were still sitting. A kick followed his kiss like your baby knew it was his daddy having returned from work.Â
âHi, little love.â It was his little nickname for them, and you loved it. You ran a hand through his hair then, soft and thick to the touch.Â
With his hand sitting next to yours, wedding band gleaming in the light, he pulled you into another small kiss. His face was inches away from yours.Â
âCan you stand up for a second, love?â He was whispering, content in keeping you three in a small bubble of touch and soft words.Â
âWhy?â It sounded like a whine, but in your defense, everything felt more comfortable than before now that he was there.Â
His eyes softened then, understanding written all over his face, and a small smile on his slightly chapped lips too.Â
âJust want to try something JJ suggested. Please? Itâs going to feel good, I promise.â He kissed your brown in reassurance, and promise.Â
You sighed again, allowing him to pull you up.Â
âIf I hate this, you have to go get me those super sour lemon candies from the candy store on the other side of town, okay?â You bargained with him. Youâve been craving those since last night, but heâd been going out on a limp for your every whim and you wanted to cool it for a day or two and allow him some time to breathe.Â
He smiled softly, hand on your lower back, moving up and down.Â
âOkay, sour lemon candy it is.â
âWhat are we doing again?âÂ
âOkay, Iâm going to settle behind you, and I want you to lean your upper body against me, lay your head on my shoulder,â He instructed, moving behind you, hands on your hips just like heâd told you to do. His scent filled your nostrils, and you moved your head to the side to nuzzle his neck. He kissed your head, âOkay, now relax, and let me do all the work, yeah?â Again, soft, in a whisper.Â
âWhat work -â You started before you felt his hands settle underneath your bump, holding onto it, and allowing the weight to fall on his hands instead of falling on you. You felt light like you were no longer carrying your little bean, but instead, it was safely nestled into his fatherâs arms. A half sigh-half moan left you, so relieved, thankful in that moment, to JJ and to your husband.Â
âGood?â He asked. Tears gathered in your eyes, so overwhelmed by the reprieve. You nodded, just a tiny bit choked up at that moment.Â
âSo, so good. Thank you.â You said, one hand moving to cup gently around his, face once again burying into his neck. You couldnât believe the universe had granted you this man to be by your side for years to come. This dedicated, adorable, kindhearted man, and all his care.Â
He rubbed his thumb against your bump, feeling your little girl kick against him, and he kissed your hair, holding you both, doing his very best to help in any way he could. Just like he always would.Â
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fluff#reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid
5K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Between the Books
Summary: Reader is a librarian at the library Spencer frequents while he's finishing one of his degrees. They find themselves in a precarious situation when everyone's left and they're the last two people there.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), themes of exhibitionism, public sex.
Word Count: 3.9 k
Masterlist
Being observant came naturally to you, almost as if it was a reflex embedded into the core of your nervous system. Youâd say âhelloâ to a new face and as if under command, your eyes would naturally drift to the small pieces of hair on that strangerâs coat.Â
Dog? Cat? Freakishly large gerbil?Â
Whatever it was, you couldnât turn it off. And thatâs why when Spencer Reid caught your eye, you simply couldnât find it in yourself to look away.Â
And with time, it seemed like his actions mirrored yours.
Youâd taken interest in a position at a university library for the summer. The job seemed to be a welcome change of pace from the likes of hectic summer jobs youâd go for typically in the past, a position that would mostly consist of monitoring graduate-level students who were, thankfully, much calmer than their undergrad counterparts.
 For the most part, you were right. Your days were filled with reading in an air-conditioned building, looking up titles of reference books for other students, and of course, the unexpected, yet welcomed, occurrence of Spencer Reid.Â
The longer you spent at the library, the more you came to learn more about him.Â
Well, as much as you could learn without actually speaking to the man.Â
Youâd learned his name from the library card heâd brandish when it came time to check out materials. Heâd frequent books about Jean-Paul Sarte, Camus, and Nietzsche, opting to stay in the same, well-lit corner by the window every time he visited. While he could come in at any part of the day, he seemed to prefer later hours, when the library would be mostly vacant. His outfits werenât over-the-top with formality, but he clearly wasnât in the business of dressing casually.
 You found it attractive, honestly, how put-together he seemed.Â
His return-rate on books was freakishly fast, and at one point, youâd assumed he was checking out books to read a certain page or chapter for research, and would then put it back, until you found yourself properly watching him and realized, no, he actually was just reading that fast. He could finish texts that would take almost a year to cover by seasoned professors and scholars in mere hours.
 How? You had no idea. Nevertheless, you desperately wanted to learn- to know him beyond the gazes of a library hall.Â
Youâd decided to try your luck at speaking to the man, noticing the three books heâd chosen all seemed to have one incredibly common theme amongst their authorship.Â
âExistentialist?â You ask, trying to make your tone seem polite but still friendly.Â
He blinks, as if he wasnât expecting to be spoken to, and takes a second, his gaze meeting yours. âSorry, what?âÂ
âExistentialist.â You repeat, motioning to the books you were checking out for him. âKierkegaard, Dostoevsky, Kafka. Your books seem to share a commonality.âÂ
He chuckles, realizing the meaning of your words and shakes his head. âNo, no. Not an existentialist. Iâd like to believe the world is better than what any of them make it out to be.âÂ
You smile, and nod. âIâd hope so.â Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting slightly. âWhy the interest then?â Thereâs genuine fascination in your tone, and he seems to absolutely thrive off that, his eyes lighting up as you continue the conversation.Â
âIâm completing my Masters in Philosophy.â He responds. âWeâve been doing an assignment on existentialism, hence the ridiculous amount of gloom and doom in my reading.â
 Thereâs a pause, before he cracks a smile, and then asks you, âRomantic?âÂ
You look at him in confusion. Itâs your turn to not get the joke. âSorry?âÂ
âAre you a romantic?â He asks. When you retain that confused look on your face, he continues.Â
âYouâre almost always reading some variation of a romance novel here. So far Iâve counted Austen, Bronte, and I think I saw a copy of Anna Karenina on the counter once.âÂ
You feel a bit of heat rise to your face, realizing that in his own way, heâd been observing you as well. In a second, the tables were turned, and the lens you often used on others was abruptly focused on you instead.Â
âWell, Anna Karenina is hardly a romance, Iâd argue.â You say, before nodding. âBut, yeah. I guess Iâd say Iâm a fan of romance in novels.âÂ
He smiles, shaking his head. âIâm not asking you if youâre a fan of romance in novels, Iâm asking you if youâre a romantic.â He says, putting emphasis on the last word, as if that was supposed to provide some grand difference to the statement.Â
âJust as much as anyone else, right?â You respond, still a bit puzzled at his insistence on contrasting the syntax of his statement.Â
âI see.â He says, nodding, continuing to look at you, as if he was sizing you up. âIâll have to pick up a copy of Anna Karenina sometime then. See if itâs as much of a love story as I remember.âÂ
âI think youâll find itâs absolutely not.â You reply, smiling. âI believe we have a copy of it here, as a matter of fact, if youâre actually interested.â Thereâs a hint of skepticism in your tone, wondering why he seemed to be taking so much regard to your conversation.
âOf course Iâm actually interested. You seem passionate about the subject.â He counters, grinning.Â
âI mean- yeah, I am! Itâs a pretty misinterpreted book, I think.â You say. Thereâs a slight moment of silence, before you find yourself saying your next few words. âIâm also surprised youâre interested. Iâm not always sure if itâs up everyoneâs lane. Lots of people canât get through it.âÂ
âIâm sure the least I can do is try.â He says, shrugging.Â
You check out the last of his books, placing them in his outstretched hands. âHonestly, Iâm even more surprised you noticed. You seem pretty into it in your corner over there.â You say, half-jokingly, but with a hint of seriousness mixed into it.Â
He gives a softer smile, almost boyish, as he replies.Â
âYouâre pretty hard not to notice.âÂ
He keeps the smile on his face, giving you a slight nod of his head, before leaving you to deal with the sudden heat that had risen to your cheeks as a result of his words. You couldnât find it in yourself to respond to his quick wit in the moment, your heartbeat still racing long after heâd left.Â
Over that summer, the two of you get continually closer. To your absolute delight, he does end up reading Anna Karenina and better yet, he agrees with you. You immediately take an even stronger liking to him than before. Thus starts your tradition of recommending books to each other, the two of you discussing them when heâd come to the library, almost like a secret, private book club that only you two were privy to.Â
You come to learn more about him. His doctorates, his job. The secret of his inhumanely fast reading was revealed to you later down the road, when he explained the abilities of an unconscious mind.. or something. While you wanted to give your undivided attention to him, there was an unspoken part of you that couldnât help but find it ridiculously attractive when he explained things to you. He never seemed to notice that enduring part of your psyche, and you were grateful for that.Â
Overall though, he made quite the friend. He shared your love of literature, and could be a wonderful listener at times. Your previous days of solitude in the library were long forgotten, and you found yourself looking forward to his daily visits, ready to share your thoughts on some book heâd last asked you to read.Â
You find that his visits become less and less about the actual establishment, and more and more about you, especially when he opts to visit you at the front desk first, as opposed to over at his usual spot by the window. Somedays, he makes it obvious, not even bothering to peruse the selection of books he was previously accustomed to, and merely opts to talk to you the entire time, right up to the point where youâre locking the doors of the library and heading to your own place for the night.Â
Thereâs a part of you that wonders why he hasnât asked you out. You wonder why you hadnât asked him out. It only seems natural, given how much time the two of you were spending- a date seemed like an obvious byproduct of the lingering gazes youâd catch him throw at you, the absolute joy that would bubble in your chest everytime the two of you shared an afternoon.Â
You shrug it off. All in good time, right?Â
Itâs another night at the library, and you found yourself a bit frustrated. Youâd asked your manager if there was any way she could take on the later shift of the day, increasingly tired with the hours of the job and simply needing a break from it all. She refused, and tonight, that refusal seemed to be on the forefront of your mind.Â
âI just- I donât get it, Spencer. I know she can take on this shift.â You say, wheeling around a cart of books to be reshelved, talking openly since the library was empty at this point in the day, all patrons packed up and soundly at homeâ while you were stuck here.Â
He stayed, of course, following you around diligently as you completed the task, listening to every word.
 âI get that this is the worst shift to have, but come on. Iâm a good employee, you know? I feel like I deserve a break here and there.â You come to a stop, picking up a stack of books with a huffy sigh. âBut no. Iâm the one who has to go home late. Iâm the one whoâs on closing every single night. Iâm sick of it.âÂ
He nods sympathetically, and you continue to grovel, deeply appreciative that he was allowing you to vent to him like this. You stand on the provided step-stool on the ground, allowing you to have the height necessary to shelve some books that belonged further up than normal.Â
âLike, is it really that hard?â You grumble, your face turned away from Spencer as you find each bookâs proper place. âGod forbid she sleeps at a later time than normal- or I donât know, hires someone else.â The last book is reshelved, and you turn around, about to dismount the stool. âAnd another thing-âÂ
In the midst of your rant, you find yourself distracted, missing the step on the stool that wouldâve allowed a safe dismount, and you quickly realize youâre falling off, letting out a small yelp before a stronger force keeps you upright- a force that happened to be Spencerâs arms catching you.Â
âYou alright?â He asks with heavy concern, trying to look into your eyes or your legs, attempting to discern for signs where you mightâve hurt yourself on your descent.Â
It takes a second for you to process that you are insanely close to Spencer. His features are almost enhanced by the low-lighting of the dark library, his eyes entirely dilated as he stares at you, his lips soft and perfectâ and those cheekbones, god. You could practically cut yourself on them.Â
You quickly return to your senses, trying to go back to a more suitable position that wouldnât leave you so absolutely tongue tied. âNo, no. Iâm fine, honestly.â You step back, wiggling your leg a little. âSee? Entirely fine.âÂ
He smiles a little sheepishly. âSorry, I just get worried. Iâm a doctor, you know.â He says, a teasing quality in his tone as he steps closer.Â
âNot an actual doctor.â You say, rolling your eyes fondly.Â
âCome on.â He says, letting his hand drift over back to your arm, which had taken most of the shock of falling onto him. âHumor me.âÂ
Thereâs that grin again, and you canât help but relent.Â
And so you humor him like he asked, letting his fingertips trail over the skin to properly check for any injuries, the action much more sensual than it shouldâve been for a friend checking up on another friend.Â
âYou know.â He murmurs, his voice a bit lower than before. âI donât actually think this is the worst shift to take on.âÂ
Your throat is dry, a physical reaction being drawn out of you as he touches you, and thereâs a conscious reminder you actually have to respond to his words.Â
âOh? Why is that?â You force out.Â
âItâs so quiet.â He mumbles out, immediately, his fingertips now tracing down to your waist, as the two of you made eye contact. âNobodyâs even in here at this point.âÂ
You swallow, trying to calm the rapid beat of your heart. âYeah, I suppose youâre right.âÂ
âI like the quiet.â He says, continuing on. The previously feather-like touch on your waist becomes more grasping than anything else. âThereâs just so much more you can get done when itâs quiet.âÂ
You nod and half heartedly mumble. âMhm.â Youâre far more focused on your growing proximity than his actual words, the act rendering you entirely breathless until heâs standing face to face with you, your breaths mingling due to the closeness.Â
âI can feel your heart beating.â He mumbles. âSo fast. Do I make you nervous?âÂ
You lick your lips and nod out of instinct, before squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. âNo, no. Itâs just the closeness. Iâm not used to it.â You whisper, eyes openingâ and his gaze is as intense as ever.Â
One of his hands goes to cup your face. âUnless you tell me otherwise, Iâm going to kiss you now.âÂ
You donât move a single muscle.Â
And then all of a sudden, heâs everywhere. Heâs pulling you closer, absolutely devouring you like heâs been starved for your touch all along. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you respond in approval, humming with a deep content against his lips, your hands going to wrap around his neck, pulling your bodies flush together. You donât want spaceâ not now, or ever again.Â
âFuck. Wanted this for so long.â He mumbles, as soon as he breaks off the kiss, finding the pulse point on your neck, and going at it with his lips, causing you to quietly moan out in pleasure. Youâd never heard him curse before, and the act only served to add to the steadily growing throb in between your legs.Â
He pushes you even more insistently up against the counter attached to the bookshelves, your weight slightly more supported by the wood, as opposed to his body like before.Â
âYouâre so pretty.â He breathes out in between his assault on your neck, his mouth finding every inch of your nape, and marking it as his own. Itâs almost like heâs hellbent on mapping out every plane of skin there, committing every spot that makes you whine or let out his name to memory.
Youâre breathing so heavily, and you think it canât possibly get any better than this, but he proves you wrong when he abruptly gets to his knees, your eyes widening.Â
âNeed to taste you. Please.âÂ
Heâs begging, like, on-his-knees, doe-eyes, broken voice- begging to eat you out.Â
And how could you ever say no, what, with those pretty eyes of his, and that expression on his face that made you practically weak with need? Â
âYes.â You whisper out, and in record time, heâs undoing your jeans and underwear in one clean swoop, not even bothering to fully remove the material before his tongue is all over your cunt, lapping up the wetness that had accumulated in the past few minutes. Youâre half surprised he didnât just rip your clothing off, given the enthusiasm he was showing at this moment.Â
Youâre suddenly incredibly aware of where you are- your place of work, a fucking library, and Spencer Reid was buried in your thighs like a man parched, lapping up wherever he possibly can. You can hear the obscene noises of your passion, his tongue lavishing over you, before he pays special attention to your clit, wrapping his lips around the nub and sucking softly. You cover your mouth with your free hand- grateful that the wood behind you was supporting you, because without it, you truly think youâd topple over from the sheer pleasure of it all.Â
âFuck.â You whisper, voice high-pitched as you try to hold back your noises. âFuck. Gonna come.â You warn, legs shaking as you barreled towards your release.Â
Without warning, his fingers enter your cunt, and youâre fighting back a scream.Â
How long had you stared at his fingers before this? How many times had you watched them run up and down the spines of the books he read, or gestured with them constantly whilst speaking? How long had such a simple part of his body captivated you?Â
How many times had you secretly wondered to yourself how theyâd feel inside you?
It didnât matter anymore. You had your answer now. Fucking amazing.
âSpencer!â You whine out, his fingers naturally reaching that soft spot inside that you often struggled to even brush against. His lips find your clit again, sucking softly and you know youâre an absolute goner.Â
âOh, fuck, fuck, fuck-âÂ
Before you can even voice in coherent terms how good this feels, youâre coming, the walls of your cunt spasming around his fingers as he relishes in the reaction, using the tip of his tongue to circle your clit, and slowing his fingers down as you ride out the remnants of your orgasm. He slips the digits out of you as he rises to his knees, and sucks on his fingers, one by one, practically moaning as he tastes your release.
The sight is downright sinful.
âYou taste so good.â He whispers, crashing his lips against yours again, and youâre already needy again when you can taste yourself on his tongue.Â
His hands drift down to his own slacks, undoing them and pulling his cock out, already dripping with precum.Â
âYou ready, pretty girl?â He murmurs, guiding his tip to your waiting cunt. Youâve situated yourself on the wood of the desk entirely now, needing the support for what happens next.Â
You nod, and without even realizing he was already mostly there, he pushes into you entirely, and your jaw drops. Your head rests against his shoulder, trying to accustom to feeling of him stretching you out so fucking perfectly.Â
How could you ever fuck anyone else again, when he just felt so perfect for you?Â
It seemed that he agreed with the sentiment, moaning softly as his free hand steadied himself by gripping onto the shelf. âYou feel so fucking good.â He murmurs. âCan I move? Are you okay?â He asks, softly.Â
His other hand rubs soothing circles into your hip bone, and youâre nodding, touched by his concern for you, even during such a salacious act.Â
His thrusts are slow at first, still allowing you to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, before heâs truly going at it, his thick cock rubbing against your wet walls in a way that makes you feel light and full all at once. It's delectable, and you never want it to end.Â
You whine, holding onto his neck, your head thrown back as you take it, feeling the books rattle around you with every hump he deals into you. You canât even find it in yourself to careâ all that matters right now is you, and him, and how fucking amazing it feels when heâs fucking you like this.Â
You can feel yourself building towards another pleasurable release, before you hear the telltale click of the library door opening, effectively removing you from the moment. Fuck. The janitor.Â
âSpencer, Spencer!â You whisper-shout, biting your lip. His cock doesnât once slow inside you, and you find it hard to think when it feels that good.Â
âWeâre gonna be caught!â You whine out, dizzied by how you were simultaneously turned on and utterly panicked.Â
âNo, we wonât.â He whispers, gruffly. With your hands now around his neck, he lets his hand drop from the shelf and covers your mouth. He leans in even closer, if thatâs possible, eyes dark.Â
The sight makes a shiver go up your spine.Â
âStay quiet.â He murmurs, as he begins to deal slower, more deliberate thrusts into your cunt.Â
âFeel that? Feel how Iâm filling you up, nice and slow?â He whispers, the words barely audible, but with how close heâs standing to you, they overtake every one of your senses, and you nod desperately, eyes glistening as you feel yourself dancing on the precipice of release.Â
âShh. I know.â He murmurs. âCome for me, yeah? I know you want to. Show me how much you like my cock inside of you.âÂ
It's a combination of his tone, of the risk you two were facing, and the sensation of him that has you responding exactly the way he wants, and in an instant, youâre coming with a shuddering breath, holding back a loud whine, just like he asked you to.Â
The feeling of your walls spasming has him releasing as well, a warmth flooding in your deepest point. His head drops into your shoulder as he attempts to muffle his moans the best he can, and you both bask in the afterglow for a second, trying to pant as quietly as you could.Â
Spencer immediately springs into action, redressing you with precision and care, guiding your underwear and jeans back up, buttoning them up for you. Youâre still in a slight haze from the two orgasms heâd just given you, and when you properly come to, his slacks are back on, and he leans in for a much more chaste kiss. It leaves you with butterflies, despite everything, and you find yourself smiling softly at him. The fondness reflected in his expression is undeniable.
âLetâs get out of here.â He murmurs, grabbing your hand and guiding you in between the shadows of the shelves, effectively keeping you both from being caught. The janitor remains clueless, as you two sneak out, giggling like teenagers as you find yourselves outside, the summer night warm and cool all at once.Â
âThat was..â You mumble, laughing a bit, surprised that had even happened.Â
âI know. I- uh. Mightâve gotten carried away?â He says. âI usually like to do that after a date. I just-â He steps closer, cupping your cheek. âI couldnât wait. I hope thatâs okay.â He whispers.Â
âMore than okay.â You whisper back.Â
His thumb slowly strokes over the expanse of your cheek, and he bites his lip. âCould we? Date? Try this out?â He murmurs. âI know I didnât get much of a chance to say it back there, but I really like you.âÂ
You canât help the chuckle that escapes you. This man had just been inside you, and now he was blushing and stuttering whilst he attempted to ask you out.Â
âYes.â You nod. âLetâs try this.âÂ
Heâs got the most genuine smile on his face, and a sigh of relief can be heard as he leans in again to kiss you, and you canât help the smile on your face as your lips meet his, the elation in both of your bodies absolutely radiating inside and out.Â
You recount your first conversation and know now, there was a difference between liking romance, and being a romantic.Â
You reckon Spencer Reid could make quite a romantic out of you.Â
this is uploading an hour later than i wanted it to :( but whatever. i hope you guys like this one <3 i'm trying something new! not first person pov, but "you" ? pleaseee let me know how this works for you guys! i love experimenting out with new fic methods but if it's clear this isn't working TELL MEEE so i can go back to what did work. anyway, any likes, reblogs, comments are so so so genuinely appreciated. thank you thank you thank you for reading either way <3
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid self insert#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
close to home | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x reader
a/n: this has been rotting in my brain for days now i hope you enjoy the angsty comfort this brought me <3 my requests are open (guidelines in pinned!) or if you wanna just chat hop in my ask box :) gonna hopefully work on a smut fic in the next week so keep an eye out hehe
cw: angst, hurt/comfort, protective!spencer, afab!reader who uses she/her pronouns, non bau!reader, cm type violence, reader sustains injuries from unsub, vague description of injuries, maeve mentions, derek being a good friend, spencer being so in love with reader, this takes place probably a year after maeve, inconsistencies with tls and characters but who cares
wc: 2.4k
summary: the bau is working a local case when their unsub strikes again mid investigation, hotch tells reid and morgan to go check it out but spencer finds the address of the crime to be a little too familar
_______________________________________________
Whenever the BAU has a case based in the D.C. area, itâs always a little easier on the team. Familiar stomping grounds, ease of resources, no major time difference, and everyone can sleep in their own beds. The hard part about home cases is knowing thereâs a serial killer in the place they know deeply, with people they cared about deeply.
Spencer and Callahan are in the middle of the bullpen staring at the giant white board with all the evidence they have so far. The unsub has been killing women in their mid 20s in the local dc area, with the mo currently unknown. there had already been two victims, both killed in their homes. Spencer was currently trying to analyze all the information the case had alongside with what Garcia was able to provide, and he was still hitting a dead end. Morgan had joined them at some point too, trying to offer what he could remember from the crime scenes but to no avail. He felt his eyes straining and dropping so he decided to get more coffee, but was stopped by Hotch and Garcia entering the bullpen.
âPolice just got a 911 call about a break in, but thereâs a witness this time. She was home when it happened and it looks like he didnât expect that and tried to knock her out before escaping. I think it sounds like our unsub. Morgan and Reid, I need you to go check out the scene and interview the witness, see what she remembers.â Hotch explained.
Morgan and Reid nodded as Garcia spoke up, âI just sent the address to your phones, itâs a house on Hillcrest so it's not that far from here.â
Spencer froze. he had to have heard wrong, she did not say Hillcrest, âDid you say Hillcrest?â
âYeah, Hillcrest Drive. Itâs like, a 15 minute drive, not that far.â
He felt his heart drop to his feet, a sinking feeling building in his gut. That was the street you lived on. He tried to ground himself with logic, the probability of it being your house is only 10%, but he was dreading asking the fated question.
âGarcia, whatâs the house number?â
âReid, I already sent it to your pho-â
âGarcia, what is the house number,â he spoke again.Â
Please donât say 1159. Please donât say 1159. Please donât say-
â1159.â
Fuck. The color drained from his face, and the nausea was building to a head quickly. Spencer hurriedly tried to think through the last time he spoke to you. Last night? This morning? He doesnât check on you as much as he does when heâs not on a case, but oh my god why canât he remember the last time he saw you.
âReid,â Hotch bellows, finally breaking spencer out of his trance, âWhat is it? What do you know?â
He shook his head, âNothing. Morgan, letâs go.â he grabbed his jacket and booked it out the door.
Morgan, Garcia, and Hotch all looked at each other in concern, before Morgan spoke up, âIâll see whatâs up.â The latter two nodded softly, though the worry didnât let up in their eyes.
Morgan walked up to the car to find Spencer repeatedly trying to call someone on the phone, clearly unable to get through and getting really frustrated.
Spencer was alerted by Morganâs presence hearing the car unlock but he didnât even look at him, just immediately got in the car and strapped his seat belt. Morgan joined him in the drivers seat giving him a wary look before turning the car on and pulling out of the bureau.
âOkay Reid, spill it. Itâs obvious you know who lives here.â Morgan speaks up.
âJust drive, please.â
âBecause if you know something, something that could help the case, it would be helpful if we knew.â
âMorgan, just drive.â he borderline yells.
He raises his eyebrows at his raised voice, âListen kid, iâm just trying to help you. I can see youâre upset but weâre on the same side, you know that.â
Spencer takes a shaky breath, feeling another shade of guilt at yelling at one of his friends, for something he didnât even know about. Heâd kept you a secret for many reasonsâ your relationship with him was still new, and he just wanted to keep you to himself for a bit. After what happened with Maeve, he felt especially more responsible at keeping you safe and making sure you didnât get tangled up in his line of work.
Some job he did of that.
The one thing he regrets about how he handled the Maeve situation, was not asking for help until it was almost too late. For not doing anything about her stalker when he was part of one of the most famous fbi teams built to find people like that. Heâd always live with that guilt, but he vowed not to do that with you.
He loved you so much. You were so kind, and smart, and beautiful. A breath of fresh air after feeling lost in a dark tunnel for so long. You were so understanding when he explained what he did for a living, and what had happened to him and people he cared about as a result. He still remembers what you said to him when he told you that you could have an out, if you wanted.
âAny risk is worth taking if getting to be with you is the consolation prize.â
Tears welled up in eyes thinking about the memory. If you were willing to take any risk, then he should be able to as well.
He cleared his throat, and Morganâs ears perked up, âMy uh, my girlfriend lives there. Where the unsub, at- attacked.â he voiced softly.
Morgan looked at him for a beat while driving, Spencer missing the way his face dropped. He tightened his hands on the wheels, and without hesitation he turned the lights and siren on and shifted gears to speed up.
__
The car pulled onto your street and the first thing Spencer sees is the flashing light of the ambulances. Morgan doesnât even put the car in park before Spencerâs bolting out hoping he can find you quickly.
Heâs asking all the paramedics heâs passing if theyâve seen you or know if youâre being treated, were you transferred to a hospital and he didnât know. The tunnel vision slowly overtaking him until he hears a voice breaking through like sunlight call out his name.
He whips his head in the direction he heard it come from, and heâs never been more grateful to be met with the beautiful sight of you. You watch his eyes widen and let out a sigh before running over to where you were sitting in the back of the ambulance. Heâs definitely not thinking when he goes in to hug you, not even knowing the extent of your injuries. Heâs overtaken by the desperate need to hold you in his arms so he knows youâre safe and okay.
âHi,â you choke out muffled, âFunny seeing you here.â
He pulls back to inspect your face, taking note of a small cut above your left eyebrow and the beginning splotches of a bruise forming on your lower jaw. His heart aches so much looking at you, knowing what happened to you and who did this to you.
âHi, honey,â he lets out tearfully, âAre you okay? I mean, of course youâre not. But what did the paramedics say? Did they give you anything? Are you sure they checked all your injuries? You know what, let me go call the guy over. Iâll be two seconds.â his panicked ramble fading off as he rounds the truck youâre sat in to find the emt.
Upon his extensive questioning of the man who treated you, he found out that you had sustained a minor concussion from when the unsub swung at you with an umbrella, superficial cuts caused by a broken vase you threw to defend yourself, and a dislocated shoulder from getting shoved into the wall.
You were okay, but at what cost.
The EMT leaves you two and Spencer sits himself next to you on the rig. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as tight as he can and the other hand cradles your head into the crook of his neck, holding you so tight heâs hoping he can squeeze the bad memories out of you. Itâs at this moment of feeling safe and sound in his arms when the adrenaline of your attack wears off.
Spencer hears a small whimper and feels a few hot tears trickle down his neck, your breathing gets faster as youâre attempting to beat your bodyâs fear response. The slow build up of sobs starting to rack your chest, and he immediately holds you tighter.
âItâs over, baby, they wonât hurt you anymore. I promise.â
You sniffle, âI know, I just canât believe this happened. To me. To us. Itâs not fair to you.â trailing off the last two words.
âTo me? Wh- what do you mean?â
You take a deep breath, âI donât mean to bring it up again, I just know how eerily similar this is to a past experience youâve had. and I hoped that I wouldnât be in a position to make you feel that way again. I donât know why this happened, I'm sorry.â
He looked down at you incredulously, genuinely unable to believe that you were sitting next to him on an ambulance, beaten up with bruises and scars after a home invasion attack, worried about how he would feel when he got to you. It was enough to finally let the swell of tears saved up in his eyes fall.
âOh sweetheart,â he chokes out, realizing youâve been trying to be brave for him this whole time, âWhat happened is not your fault, do you understand me? My job is to always worry about you and your safety. When Garcia said the address IâŚI couldnât even process it, I donât even know how I got to the car,â he shook his head, âBut I am the last person you need to push your emotions down for. I will always take them in stride and love you even more for that, okay?â
âOkay,â you take a shaky breath, âI love you.â
âI love you.â he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
Both of your heads look up at an approaching figure, who you quickly recognize to be SSA Derek Morgan. You knew Spencer hadnât told the team about you yet, so you tried to sit up independently as fast as you could before he came over and suspected something.
Spencerâs grip didnât let up when he bent down and whispered, âItâs okay, he knows.â You look up at him with wide eyes when derek finally reaches you.
âReid, I already talked to the detectives and weâre good to go when youâre ready,â he turns his body to you and gives you a comforting smile, âHi sweetheart, Iâm Derek Morgan, itâs nice to meet you.â
Spencer rolls his eyes at the nickname while you giggle softly, âHi Derek, Iâve heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you too.â
âI wish it were under better circumstances,â he sighs, âListen, I know itâs all still really fresh for you, but it might help the case if youâre able to come in for a cognitive interview, or even talk to a sketch artist.â
Spencer doesnât miss a beat before protesting, âAbsolutely not. We can do it later, itâs fine.â
âReid-â
You look up at him placing your hand on his chest, âSpence, Itâs okay. I want to help, please.â
He rests his hand on top yours and gives it a light squeeze, âOkay, but iâm not leaving you alone for a second.â
âI didnât think you would.â you smile.
âAlright lovebirds, you can have your private time later, we should go now.â Derek teases.
Spencer groans, âSee, this is why i didnât say anything.â
âYou think Iâm bad? Wait till Penelope meets her.â
__
The three of you pile into the car before starting the drive to Spencerâs apartment so he could get you a change of clothes and other things you might need. You end up falling asleep in the back seat, the final stage of your shock sinking in like a rock. Spencer checks on you from the rear view mirror and sees you passed out, and smiles.
âSheâs cute,â Derek starts, âCan I ask how long?â
âNine months.â he replies, fishing for something out of his pocket.
âPretty boy hid a girl from all of us for nine months? Maybe weâre not as good profilers as we thought.â
âImagine that,â he laughs, and gestures to the item in his hand, âLook.â
Spencerâs holding out a well loved photo booth strip with three pictures, of you and Spencer from the time you went to a local county fair. Youâre sitting in his lap, mostly due to the cramped space and the expansive limbs. The first picture is the two of you holding up finger guns attempting to be as back to back as you can. The second picture, you intended it to be a normal one where you both smile at the camera, but spencer couldnât take his eyes off you and the picture captured the love struck gaze he had on you. The last one you were about to tell him the idea for it, when he grabbed your face and pulled you closer to kiss you, neither of you knowing when the final picture snapped.
The edges were worn out and frayed, clearly broken down by the oils on his fingers from pulling it out frequently. It was his most treasured item, a constant reminder of what was always waiting for him when he got back from grueling cases, and how lucky he was to have you in his life.
âYou look really happy, kid.â Derek says, thinking about the many times heâs seen his friend at rock bottom, the things that have been so brutally taken from him, and the suffering heâs had at the hands of his job. His heart warms for his friend, who seemed to finally catch a break.
âI am.â
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#dr spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#bau team#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fanfiction
5K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Stress Relief
You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) dom!spencer, sub!reader, oral (f), reader in handcuffs so light bondage?, choking, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare and domestic bliss because heâs still our beloved spencer
Words: 5k for 5k milestone celebration! TYSM ILYđđ
A/n: I combined two requests asking for him to get all angry/frustrated because an unsub had a particular thing for winding him up (from anon 1) so he needs some kind of smutty release (from anon 2). You know who you are.
You could tell something was off.Â
A sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as the front door creaked open, and instead of the usual lively greeting from your husband, you were met with silence. It was as though he was physically there and yet you could sense his absence in the air.Â
"Spence?" You called out, stepping out of the kitchen. When there was no response, you tried again. "Baby, are you okay?"
Your feet guided you down the hallway where you found him standing by the door with his back facing you. Even from behind, you could sense the foul mood he was in. His shoulders seemed more tense than usual, his hair slightly disheveled, and there was an edge to his movements as he closed the door with a loud thud.
"Babe?"
His response was brief, his gaze flickering towards you before quickly darting away, almost as if he were intentionally avoiding your eyes.
"Hey."
"Hey?" you echoed. "That's all I'm getting?"
When his eyes met yours again, you could practically feel the tension radiating from him. It was clear that he was angry, his usual calm demeanor seemed to be replaced by a subtle but palpable edge. There was a tightness in his jaw, a clenched fist by his side, and his usually warm gaze now held a hint of sharpness.
Only one thought crossed your mind whenever he came home like this.
"Bad day at work?"
He slowly nodded.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
"Do you want a hug?"
He hesitated momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly as if debating whether to accept your offer. Then, without a word, he closed the distance between you. His arms enveloped you, pulling you close as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. Your hand instinctively found its way to his hair, fingers gently running through the soft strands.
"Oh, honey, you're so tense," you noted as your other hand trailed along his shoulder. "Is there anything I can help with? A massage? A nice warm bath maybe?"
You felt him shake his head against you, but you persisted, wanting to offer him comfort in any way you could. When your hand smoothed down his back, his hold on you tightened. When your fingers brushed the nape of his neck, you felt his warm breath caress your skin.
Then it happenedâsoft lips brushed against the spot under your ear, tentative at first, before growing more urgent. It wasn't the tender, affectionate kisses you were used to, but a different kind of intimacy that felt almost desperate. His lips nibbled and sucked gently at your skin and it became clear to you what he wanted.
"You want another kind of release, baby? Is that what you want?"
His lips momentarily paused against your neck, his arms loosening their grip around you before he rested his hands on your hips. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?"Â
"Becauseââ he stopped, his grip on your body tightening. âBecause I don't feel like myself right now."
You grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away just enough to see his face. "What makes you say that?"
Spencer held your gaze. How could he explain to you that he was on the verge of acting out his frustration? That he was so close to losing control?Â
He knew how difficult he could be when anger took hold of him. In his younger days, he wouldn't hesitate to fire off sassy remarks and snarky comments, letting his emotions dictate his behavior. However, as he matured, he learned better to hide those emotions behind a composed facade.
But tonight felt different. Despite his best attempts to maintain his control, he could feel his anger slipping away, and it was unfair to burden you with it. Especially when you were offering yourself to him, so sweet and so pretty, when he knew love wasn't exactly what he could offer you right now.Â
So he decided to release you, his grip loosening as he stepped back.
"Forget it," he muttered under his breath before turning towards your shared bedroom. Your brow furrowed as he walked away, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly agape, bewildered by his sudden withdrawal.
"Spencer Reid," you called after him, your voice laced with a hint of irritation as you followed him. "I wasn't done talking to you."
He paused, his hand halfway to his tie before he loosened it with a sharp tug. You leaned against the bedroom doorway, crossing your arms as you continued to study him. His lack of response only fueled your growing annoyance, but you knew better than to escalate the situation into a fight.
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you spoke up, your voice steady but tinged with frustration. "Honey, I can't help you if you're acting this way."
"What makes you think I need help?"
"The way you're wrestling with your tie gives it away," you replied, your words laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He shot you a pointed look, clearly unimpressed by your remark. "I don't need your help."
Your frown deepened. "Seriously? You're just going to shut me out like this?"
"I'm not shutting you out," he countered, moving around the room. "I just need some space."
"Well you're doing a pretty damn good job of it," you shot back, your patience wearing thin as you pushed yourself off the doorway. His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, his actions focused on undoing the button on his wrist now. You scoffed at his lack of response again.
"Oh, so now you're giving me the silent treatment?" When it seemed evident he was trying to ignore you, you pressed on. "Fine, keep your silence, let me do the talking."
His eyes flickered momentarily at you before he turned around, undoing the button of his shirt. You watched him quietly as he continued to avoid your gaze.Â
"Spencer," you began, your voice softer now. "I know your job can be hard, and I know you're going through a lot right now, but shutting me out won't make it any easier."
âI've already told you, I'm not trying to shut you out."
"Then what are you doing?" you pressed. "I tried offering you help when you didn't want to talk about it. And the one thing I can help you with, the one thing I'm sure will help you relax, you refused."Â
You let out a frustrated sigh, hating how much your voice wavered now.
"Spence... youâyou didn't even want to have sex with me."
His shoulders stiffened at your words, finally turning to face you. "You think I don't want to have sex with you?"
You swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted. "You're giving me the cold shoulder, itâs hard not to take it personally."
The room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence. Then, you watched as he began to walk towards you. One step. Two steps. Until his presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that suddenly made you feel small and vulnerable.
"I'm refusing to have sex with you right now not because I don't want to," he said, his voice dangerously low. "I'm refusing because I'm trying to protect you."
You frowned, confusion furrowing your brow. "Protect me from what?"
There was a moment of silence before he replied, âFrom myself."
You felt a knot tightening in your stomach, goosebumps forming on your skin as you struggled to comprehend what he was trying to say.
âI⌠I don't understand."
"I don't want to risk it. I'm afraid that if we... if we cross that line, I might hurt you."
"Spencer," you whispered in disbelief, as if his words were the most absurd thing you'd ever heard. "You would never hurt me."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't be so sure if you knew half of the thought in my head right now."
You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his words. Then your gaze involuntarily flickered down his body, tracing the lines of his open shirt and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze moved lower, taking in the way his pants hung low on his hips, and the trail of soft hair leading downwards.
You swallowed hard.
"Tell me then," you challenged, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze again. "Tell me how you'd hurt me."
He studied you, assessing, calculating. "You won't like it," he warned.
"And what if I do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flashing across his features. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I know what I want."
He regarded you for a long moment, weighing your words carefully. Finally, he stepped closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "You really want to know what I'd like to do to you?"
You held his gaze. "Yes," you replied. "Tell me."
His lips curved into a faint, almost rueful smile. With a slow, deliberate movement, he reached out and traced a finger along the curve of your jaw. "I want to use you," he murmured. "I want to feel you, to taste you. I want to make you scream."
You could feel the heat traveling through your body, a heady mixture of desire and anticipation flooding your senses. You reached out, fingers trembling as they brushed against his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.
"I want to control you," he continued, his gaze darkening. "I want to tie you up leave you bruises, mark your skin. I want you helpless, begging for mercy."
He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking with yours.
"I want to see how far you'll go for me."
Your breath caught in your throat as you drank in his words, and you couldn't deny the heat spreading between your legs. "And what if I want that too?"
A tense silence settled between you. Then slowly, almost as if testing the waters, he wrapped his fingers around your throat, simply holding you there. "You don't mean that."
"Try me," you dared, holding his gaze. "Put your hand between my thighs and see just how much I mean it."
His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly while his other hand hovered at the waistband of your cotton pants. You felt a jolt of anticipation as he slipped his hand inside, your breath hitching as the pad of his calloused fingers dipped inside your panties.
A soft hum of approval escaped his lips when the slickness of your arousal coated his skin.
"Would you look at that? Barely even touched you and you're already this wet?" A low gasp fell between your lips as he found your clit. "You really want this, don't you?"
You could only manage a whimper in response, your breath coming in ragged gasps.Â
"Tell me," he insisted, his breath hot against your skin. "Do you want me to stop?"
Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "No," you finally managed to gasp.
With deliberate slowness, he trailed his fingertips lower, teasingly circling your entrance. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out.
âYou dirty girl,â he muttered, and you feel yourself getting wetter as his finger continued to touch you teasingly. Then slowly, the grip on your throat loosened before his hand moved to cup your cheek.
âI need you to be sure," he whispered, "Because once we cross that line, there's no going back."
Your eyelids dropped lower as you chewed on your bottom lip, feeling the weight of his desire hanging in the air. It was a heady mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but one thing was clearâyou wanted him.
You wanted him to use your body.
âUse me however you like,â you confessed. "I-Iâm all yours.â
His lips were on yours in an instant. There was no mercy in his kiss, only raw desire and urgency. He kissed you as if he needed to breathe in your air, his lips moving desperately against yours, his tongue seeking entrance to taste you.
His hand then left your pants to cradle your face, holding you gently yet firmly as he explored every inch of your mouth, leaving you breathless and wanting more. Finally, he pulled away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he caught his breath.Â
He looked down at you, his gaze intense, and saw the dazed expression in your eyes. Your touch, taste, and scent clouded his vision as you trembled in his arms, the soft sounds of your labored breath sang in his ears.
Mine, mine, mine.
"Now listen to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I'm going to leave you for a while, and when I come back, I expect to see you lying on the bed naked with your legs spread apart."
You swallowed hard, eyes slightly going wide. You felt his hand gripping your jaw.
"Do I make myself clear?"
You quickly nodded. "Y-Yes."
His grip tightened momentarily before he released you, his gaze piercing as he held your eyes for a moment longer. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.Â
With trembling hands, you began to undress, each piece of clothing dropping to the floor until you stood bare before the bed. The cool air prickled against your skin as you slowly climbed onto the bed.
You brought your feet onto the bed before spreading your knees apart. It felt weird, you had never felt so exposed and vulnerable, yet you couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your thighs. And then you heard him, his footsteps gradually coming closer and your heart pounded in your chest as you gripped onto the bed sheets.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he took in the sight before him, his eyes lingering between your legs. He watched your chest rise and fall, watched the way your legs fell apart even more as if you were offering yourself to him. Without a word, he approached the bed and stripped off his shirt.Â
Before you could catch your breath, he stood over the bed beside you. "Put your arms above your head."
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze, but then slowly, almost instinctively, you complied, raising your arms above your head as instructed. You watched as he reached behind his back, and your heart raced as you glimpsed the glint of metal in his hand.
He didn't say a word as he reached for your wrists, securing them above your head with the cold metal of the handcuff, restraining you to the bed. The click of the cuffs echoed in the room before he stepped back, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam as if he was admiring his handiwork.
Your pulse quickened as you lay there, exposed and at his mercy and you couldn't help but squirm under his gaze. He moved closer, his fingers trailing lightly along your skin, and you shivered, both from the chill of the metal and the warmth of his touch.
"You look so pretty like this," he murmured. "So helpless, yet so willing."
Your eyes followed his movement as his fingers moved to unbutton his pants. Then he was completely naked, and even though you had seen him like this countless times, the sight of his cock never failed to make your cunt clench in anticipation. He was thick and hard, with veins pulsing along its length and droplets of wetness glistening at the tip.
The bed sank under his weight as he positioned himself between your legs. You gasped when he leaned forward, the underside of his cock teasingly brushing against your wet folds as his lips met your collarbone. You bit down on your bottom lip as he kissed lower, stopping at your left breast, where he suckled on the supple skin just above your nipple.
His mouth latched onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. But he was a simple man. His lips worked precisely and diligently, and you watched as he left marks on your breasts, his teeth gently sinking into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings.
The kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. Spencer felt a rush of satisfaction like no other, his touches growing more urgent with each sound that escaped your lips. His tongue glided over your plump breasts, teasing and tantalizing, until finally, his mouth enveloped your nipple.
You squealed, squirming underneath him, and he smiled against your skin, his lips forming a knowing smirk as he continued to suck while his thumb flicked the nipple he wasn't focusing on. There was no doubt you would be left with bruises tomorrow morning.
Your eyes drifted downward just as he looked up, his gaze meeting yours, and you couldn't help but whine when the tip of his tongue circled your nipple teasingly. You reached out, craving the sensation of your fingers in his hair, only to feel the metal of the handcuffs digging into your skin.
"It's torture, isn't it? Not being able to do anything," he taunted with a laugh, shifting his attention to your other nipple. "But I guess that's the fun part.â
You whimpered as he softly bit your sensitive bud, and your back arched off the bed in response. He leaned back, admiring the marks he'd left on your skin.
"God, look at you," he murmured as his gaze lingered on your flushed skin, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath. "I could do this all night."
Slowly, he lowered himself back down, his lips tracing a path from your chest down to your stomach. You squirmed, anticipation coiling tightly in your belly as his warm breath ghosted lower. His hair tickled your legs, and he took the opportunity to turn his head slightly to the side, immediately pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss against your inner thigh.Â
You gasped as he sucked your skin into his mouth, teeth grazing over the flesh as if he was intent on marking every inch of your body. His lips continued to trail along your thighs but never quite reaching the place you craved him the most.
For someone with pent-up emotions, his movements were agonizingly slow. It was frustrating, the way he toyed with you, drawing out the anticipation until you couldn't bear it any longer.
"Please," you whimpered, the chains rattling softly against the headboard as you continued to squirm beneath him.
He paused, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he looked up at you. "Please what?"Â
"Pl-Please touch me."
He kissed over your mound as he hooked an arm under your leg. His other hand reached for the heat radiating between your thighs before two of his fingers brushed along your outer lips, dragging your arousal along your skin. "Like this?"
You groaned as he kept on teasing you, stroking you with featherlight touches. âMore," you pleaded desperately, almost pathetically. "Please."
His fingers stretched your folds, his gaze fixed on the glistening wetness, on the way your cunt clenched around nothing. "You're so pretty, you know that?"
"Spence..." you breathed out, feeling his breath achingly close to your heat.
He didn't respond with words. Instead, he lowered his head, his breath hot against your flesh. The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a writhing, whimpering mess. Your head began spinning, nerves and pleasure swooping into one big fuzzy mess in your mind as his tongue teased up and down your slit.Â
"Oh my god," you whined the moment his mouth circled your clit before sucking on it, sending waves of pleasure along your body. And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his finger at your entrance, and without warning, he pushed in his digit, sending your head tilting back with a desperate gasp falling from your lips.
His groan reverberated against your skin as your walls clenched around him. He pushed his finger deeper, curling it inside of you as his tongue lapped at your dripping folds. With each movement, he pressed his face even further into you, relishing the sensation of your wetness coating his jaw.
Your eyes drifted downwards at the same time he looked up, locking gazes with him, and you let out the most filthy cry of pleasure. He held your gaze as his tongue quickened its pace, sucking your clit even harder as he added another finger inside you.Â
Your mouth gaped open as you felt the delicious stretch, and you couldn't help but buck your hips towards his face. Spencer always had a fixation on pleasuring you, but not like thisâit was never like this. He seemed desperate, almost possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of your taste.
He continued his relentless assault, his fingers pumping inside you with a steady rhythm while his tongue worked tirelessly on your swollen clit. The squelching sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of your dripping walla was so lewd that it made his cock stir against the bed.
You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, the heat spreading like wildfire through your veins. Before you knew it, your climax hit you hard, without warning, without mercy, and you were gasping his name over and over.
You shivered and trembled beneath him, tossing your head back even farther, squeezing your walls around his fingers and your legs around his head. But he didn't stop or even slow down. Instead, he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push your thighs apart even when your legs were shaking uncontrollably.
"Stop moving," he ordered as he leaned in, tasting you all over again. He didn't care that you were a complete mess, that you were still reeling in from your climax, that you were trying to move back away from him. All he cared about was giving you the best pleasure imaginable, and he was intent on seeing it through.
"Spenceââ you gasped when his nose brushed your clit. âI-I can'tâ"
He gently held your fragile body in place to prevent you from running away from his mouth. "Hold still and give me another one."Â
How could you not relent when he treated you like this, so considerate yet so rough? You groaned, your eyes meeting the ceiling as you felt his mouth continue its relentless assault on your cunt. The sensation was overwhelming, yet despite your protests, you couldn't deny the building pressure.
Your muscles tensed. Your breathing hitched. You gasped for air. And just as the waves of pleasure threatened to consume you once more, you surrendered, letting out a pathetic cry as your body convulsed with the force of your climax.
His tongue lingered over your sensitive skin, savoring the taste of your release, before he finally withdrew, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. He then lifted his head, your juices glistening on his lips as he watched your heaving chest.
Spencer had never been so thankful for his eidetic memory. He took in the sight of your hands, bound above your head, the rise and fall of your chest as you panted, the tousled strands of hair framing your face. His gaze lingered on the way your legs willingly parted for him, your skin flushed and pussy swollen, all because of him.
It was a sight he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
You bit your bottom lip as his gaze lingered on you, feeling your body flush under his scrutiny. Then, as if something within him shifted, he reached for you, urging your body to turn until you were facing sideways, the chains rattling softly as you moved.
He settled behind you, and your heart quickened as you felt him grab your leg, lifting it in the air. With one hand gripping your thigh firmly, he positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds.Â
You could feel the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his breath ghosting over your neck as he leaned in closer. With a deep, guttural moan, he eased himself into you, every inch of him sliding effortlessly into your wetness. You couldn't help but arch your back in response to the sensation of being filled so completely.
"Fuck," he murmured, the curse slipping past his lips in a breathy whisper. It sounded foreign coming from him and yet it only encouraged you more. You pushed your hips back into him, meeting his slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Needed this so much," he confessed, his breath coming out in ragged pants against the nape of your neck. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you like this for so long."
Your head fell back onto his chest, completely enveloped in himâthe scent of his skin, the warmth of his touch, the rhythmic movement of his cock thrusting inside you.
"Thought it was wrong of me to take control of you," he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. "But you're enjoying this as much, aren't you?"
You whimpered, unable to form words as the pleasure consumed you and you felt him picking up his pace. The room was filled with lewd noises of your wetness along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.
"You like being helpless like this? You like it when I fuck you while being cuffed to the bed?"
Your breath hitched at his words. His hand left your thigh, but only momentarily. The crack of sound pierced the air, followed by a surge of sensation coursing up your leg. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightningâhe spanked you.Â
And you liked it.
"Answer. Me," he demanded, each word punctuated by the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," you managed to gasp out. "I-I love being helpless."
He let out a sound of pleasure as he released your thigh, only to tease your clit with his fingers. You gasped, your head thrown back as he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt the intensity building, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach as he continued to pump into you, his fingers moving fast against your clit.
You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn't even think properly. The squelch of his cock driving into you roughly rang in your ears and with a sharp inhale, you felt the tension within you reach its peak. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat, and then, with an explosive release, you cried out his name.
He groaned as he felt you pulsating around him, your walls gripping him tightly. He continued to move within you, riding out your orgasm as his thrusts grew harder, more urgent until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"I need to see you," he breathed as he pulled out of you. Then he flipped you onto your back, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder as he settled between your thighs once more. The change in position brought you closer, the heat of your bodies mingling as you met his gaze.
Without a word, he pushed himself back into you, the slick heat of your cunt enveloping him. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, feeling your body growing sticky, every inch of you glistening with sweat, but his gaze remained fixated on you, unwavering and intense.
"So pretty," he murmured, his hand finding your face and cupping your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. "My beautiful wife."
You whimpered as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertip. He watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut while he began pumping into you.
Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you took his cock eagerly, your breasts bouncing each time he thrust forward, your mouth hanging open with your tongue slipping out of your mouth. A whine followed through as his hand moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place as his hips collided against your own.
He gave a slight pressure around your throat, and your head began to loll against the mattress, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your body, spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears, and up to your eyes, tears pooling right at the corner. The feeling even reached your stomach, tightening and coiling with the signal of your impending orgasm.
Was this your fourth orgasm? Your fifth? You couldn't keep track; all you knew was the overwhelming sensation prickling your skin. The bed below you felt as if it was on fire. The metal digging around your wrist burned with absolute pleasure.
His thrusts grew more intense, each movement raw and unrestrained, as if he was pouring all his pent-up emotions into you. He seemed to lose himself in the moment, his grip on your neck firm but not painful, but it was enough to make you gasp, your body trembling with pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head.
You were instantly gone.
A filthy cry fell between your lips as another orgasm crashed over you, more intense than the last. At some point you were gasping for air, feeling your body going limp but he didnât stop. His hips had a mind of their own. You could feel them beginning to move like they were possessed, with no regard for your pleasure, and in a way, no regard for his.Â
âOh godâfuck!â You cried, arching your back as much in this position.
He groaned and leaned in, his arms pressing against the bed on either side of you as he pushed your leg up to your shoulder. He tried to kiss you, but the force of his movements made it hard. Instead, his lips hovered just above yours, both of you breathing heavily and moaning into each other's mouths.
Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. It didnât take long for another wave of pleasure to rush through your body. You convulsed beneath him, thighs quivering violently as you tried to angle your body away from him, the pleasure almost unbearable now.
Through the haze of your orgasm, you caught a glimpse of him throwing back his head with his eyes screwed shut. Then he finally groanedâhis movements slowing, breath sputtering from his lungs as he exploded, pumping once, twice, three times all before coming to a halt, cock twitching inside you.
You watched the sweat bead down his forehead as you both worked silently to relax your bodies, pulses pounding in ruthless rhythm. With a deep, contented sigh he finally slid himself out of you before going through his discarded pants on the floor.Â
After a moment, he returned to you and unlocked the handcuff from your wrist, the sound of the lock clicking echoing in the room. The chains fell onto the bed with a soft thud as he gently took hold of your hands.
âAre you okay?"
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay."
He pressed a tender kiss to both of your wrists, his lips lingering over your pulse for a moment. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked anxiously, his eyes raking over your body. "Was I too rough? Did Iâ""
"Spencer, relax," you whispered, you took his hand in yours. "I'm good. I promise."
"You sure?" he asked, his face still tight with concern.
"Yes, more than good. Just come cuddle with me?"
He hesitated, his eyes scanning over your body for a few seconds longer. After he seemed satisfied you really were okay, he lowered onto the bed beside you and you drew his head to your chest. Your fingers gently played with his hair, watching as he slowly relaxed into you, throwing one of his arms across your stomach.Â
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... I think I needed that."
Your attention shifted to his face, happy to see his expression finally somewhat peaceful as he lay just above your breasts. His eyes were closed, the tension you'd noticed on his face when he'd arrived entirely gone now.
Gently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered, "Of course, baby. Anytime you need me, I'm here."
His lips curved into a small, contented smile as he nestled closer to you. "I love you."
A surge of warmth filled your chest at his words. "I love you too," you whispered back. "But are you okay? Do you want to talk about what happened at work?"
You felt him shift as he shook his head. "Maybe later. I just want to hold you right now."
You gently kissed the crown of his head before pulling him closer. Spencer sighed happily as he snuggled closer to you, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against your chest. He then reached over your breasts, his thumb trailing over the marks he had left on your skin.Â
"I didn't realize you enjoyed that so much."
You shrugged the shoulder beside his head. "It's hard not to. I mean, I think I've always liked it when you're in control, and that doesn't only apply to sex."
He leaned back to look at you. "Really?"
You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah. Remember the first time we started dating and someone broke into my apartment?"
"How could I forget?" he replied, a frown tugging at his brows as he recalled the memory. âThat was one of the scariest moments in my life.â
"Right. You thought some serial killer was targeting me when it was just a random robbery. But the way you handled the situation..." you continued, your voice softening. "When you took charge and made sure I was safe, I realized how much I trusted you. And I remember thinking, 'Damn, my boyfriend's pretty cool.'"
His frown melted away, replaced by a warm smile at your words. "You thought I was cool?"Â
You chuckled, nodding as you met his gaze. "You're cool, smart, and hot at the same time," you teased. "What I'm trying to say is, I like it when you're in control because I like to depend on you. You make me feel safe and cared for."
His expression softened even further, a tender warmth filling his eyes. "I like it when you depend on me too," he confessed softly. With a gentle tug, he sat up, bringing you along. "Come on then, let me care for you now."
You looked up at him. "Yeah? What do you have in mind?"
"I think we both need that nice warm bath."
You smiled, already feeling the tension in your muscles ease at the thought of a soothing bath with him. "Will you wash my hair too?"
He pushed a strand of hair off your face, his heart swelling with affection at the look in your eyes. How could he resist when you looked at him like he hung up the moon for you?Â
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#gifwriting#spencer reid x reader smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n
6K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Between the lines
In which Spencer crosses paths with the woman he's been dreaming about. Their undeniable attraction turns fantasy into reality.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: lots of build up, perv!spence, lovesick!spence, lots of flirting, teasing, sex toys, p in v sweet sensual sex Word count: 4,6k A/n: part two of through thin walls! you can read this as a standalone, but it's a short one so give it a try ;)
It had been three weeks since Spencer last had a nightmare. Ever since his neighborâa woman he had yet to meetâmoved in next door, his nights had been calm, peaceful. Sleep had become something he looked forward to, but it wasnât just sleep itself. It was the moments before, the quiet waiting in anticipation that became part of his routine.
Every time he came home from an exhausting case, he would crawl into bed and lean back against the headboard, his body settling as he awaited a movement from the apartment next to him. Feeling a sense of relief when her sweet moans would slip through the thin wall.
It didnât take Spencer long to find a pattern in her routine. On weekdays, it was quick, urgent. The soft moans would rise, then fallâuntil Thursday. Thursdays were different. He could tell by the muffled groans and the frustrated sighs, that she was unable to find the release she so desperately sought. She would let out a final huff, signalling Spencer to stop his movements.
He was aware that he had no obligation towards the woman, but he found no pleasure in the act of touching himself when he knew she wasnât enjoying herself. These days left a toll on him. Irritated by the fact that he couldnât just knock on her door with the suggestion of helping her out. But luckily, there were still the weekends. The weekends were good. Her sessions stretched longer, her pleasure unraveling slowly but intensely. Spencer never managed to keep up alongside her, but he couldnât help continuing to listen as he laid down with his eyes closed. Savoring each breath, each moment as he found peace in the fact that she felt satisfied by the end of the night.
It wasnât every day that they would share intimate moments like these. On times she didnât indulge, Spencer found comfort in the other sounds of her life. Hearing her television hum in the background, not loud enough to make out the words, but her occasional laughterâor her soft humming along with a songâwas enough to remind him she was there, just beyond the walls.
It was strange, to feel such familiarity with someone he had never spoken to, someone whoâs name he didnât even know, but somehow Spencer had grown very attached to her presence. He often wondered what the rest of her life looked like. Making it a game to fill in the blanks with the inkling of behaviour he had.
One thing he could confidently profile was her loneliness. Whether that was by choice or by circumstance, or a mixture of both, he didnât know. Only that he has never heard another voice besides hers, not even the typical hellos and goodbyes one would make on a phone call. He hoped she was settling in well, wishing he could bring her the comfort she has given him since her arrival.
It was noon, on a rare day where Spencer didnât have to go to the office. But Spencer wasnât the type to sit still on his free days. He grabbed his saddlebag from the leather chair next to the door, whistling a tune under his breath as he looked for his keys. He unlocked the door with a quick turn of the handle, but before he could step out, a yelp echoed from the hallway.
âIâm sor-,â he froze mid-apology, the automatic reply getting stuck in his throat as he processed the familiar sound. That gaspâit was embedded in his memory, a sound he could recognize anywhere, even though the circumstances were completely different. His cheeks flushed, heat spreading across his face, and he found himself afraid to tilt his head, knowing who he would face.
âItâs okay, donât worry! I shouldâve looked out.â The voice apologized.
Spencerâs mind scrambled. He wanted to tell her that he should be the one apologizing, that it was his fault for slamming the door open without considering who might be walking through the shared hallway. But all he could manage was a strangled silence, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.
He swallowed, forcing himself to look up. His stomach fluttered and his pupils blew wide as he made eye contact with her. She was more beautiful than anything beyond his wildest dreams. He was almost ashamed for picturing her any less than she is. He felt flustered as his mind began piecing her face and body together with the sounds that heâs been eavesdropping on for the past couple of weeks.
He realized how awkward he was making the situation when she looked up at him with big eyes, clearly waiting for some kind of response.
âDid you like my cookies?â She asked, breaking the quiet, her voice a little hesitant but genuine.
Spencer blinked, surprised at the question, his mind struggling to catch up. "Cookies?" he repeated, brows knitting together in confusion.
The girl noticed his expression and rushed to explain. âI brought you cookies,â she said, her hands moving slightly, as if trying to emphasize the story. âWhen I first moved in here.â
Spencer stayed quiet, getting her to elaborate further. âYou werenât home. I left them on your doorstep,â she continued, a little sheepishly.
He nodded, letting out a small sigh as he made the connection. âItâs my neighbor,â he pointed to the door to the left of him with a vague sweep of his hand, the gesture almost apologetic. âThe other one. Miss Cavanaugh. She has a habit of stealing.â
Her eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth hung slightly open at the casualty in which he mentioned this fact.
âOh no, donât worry! she wonât steal from you.â He quickly corrected, raising his hand to wave off any concern. âWell, she might but itâs not likely sheâd, like, break into your apartment. That would be a criminal actâbreaking and enteringâwhich is a felony in all 50 states. Actually, it's a federal offense in certain circumstances.â He glances off to the side for a moment, thinking, then gestures with a loose hand.
âMy point is, sheâs more of a, uh, casual thief, if that makes sense? Like, you know, she might nab food or a basket or something left outside, but the odds of her actually coming into your apartment are really low. Statistically speaking, this building has an impressively low crime rate for DC, especially for this price range. Itâs safer than 75.3% of comparable buildings in the area.â
His brows furrowed together at the end of his sentence, as if his brain just caught up with his words. âIâm rambling, arenât I?â
The corners of her lips lifted, a soft but genuine smile lighting her face.
âThatâs good to know. I didnât do that much research when I moved in here.â She held out her hand, introducing herself.
Her hand was smaller than his, and without thinking, he clasped it gently between both of his, needing to know if he indeed had the connection with her he assumed he had. The touch sent a jolt through him, feeling the spark of electricity he was hoping for. He surprised himself with how much he didnât want to let go and, more so, how she didnât pull away.
"Iâm Doctor Spencer Reid," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with a genuine awe as he looked at her.
Her eyebrows rose in curiosity. âDoctor, huh? Good to know thereâs one next door in case I drop dead.â
âOh, uhââ His words came in a tumble as he rushed to explain. âNot a medical doctor. Iâm with the FBI. I specialize in criminal behavior. So if you were to, say, die by murder, Iâd be the oneâuh, the one investigating it.â
The words hung in the air for a beat longer than he intended, and before he could stop himself, he added, âNot that I want you to die, orâuh, be murdered. Thatâs⌠thatâs not what I meant at all. I mean, if there was even a chance someone wanted to hurt you, Iâd make sure to stop it before it happened, butââ
Her laugh, bright and airy, caught him off guard. She then tilted her head slightly, studying him in a way that made her seem like the profiler.
âIâll see you around, Spencer,â she finally said, her voice teasing but kind. His cheeks flushed at the way his name rolled off of her tongue.
Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked off. Spencer couldnât tear his eyes away from her, her presence lingering even after her figure disappeared down the hall. He stood frozen in the doorway, his heart racing from the exchange.
When he finally stepped back inside, he closed the door and leaned heavily against it, letting out a groan.
Heâd forgotten all about the plans he previously had. Instead, his thoughts swirled around herâeven more curious about his neighbor than he was before. As he replayed their brief exchange, one thing became startlingly clear: he needed to see her again.
It was like faith heard him. Later, on that evening, Spencer stepped into the laundromat of the apartment complex, the soft hum of dryers and the faint smell of detergent filling the air. He just finished taking his laundry out of the dryer when he saw herâstanding at one of the machines, pulling her clothes out with an ease that made the mundane task look almost elegant.
Spencer moved toward her, a little too quickly, and nearly bumped into a man coming the other way. âSorry,â he mumbled, placing his basket down beside hers.
Her eyes flicked up, catching his gaze immediately. The air between them shifted, filled with an undeniable spark.
âHi, Doc,â she greeted with a warm smile. âWe meet again.â
âHi,â Spencer managed, his voice a little breathless.
He glanced down at the pile of laundry. âSock day?â he asked with a smirk, genuinely curious.
She chuckled softly. âMore like underwear day in general. I like to stick to a schedule.â
âMe too!â Spencer eagerly responded, excited to have something in common with her.
She sighed as she held up a sock, contemplating its mate. âUnderwear day is the worst though. Itâs going to take me hours to match these.â
Spencer gave a quiet laugh. âI gave up on that a while ago.â He casually rolled up his pants, revealing mismatched socksâone green with avocados, the other purple with yellow stripes. âItâs more fun this way.â
She crouched down to get a better look, her eyes scanning the colorful mismatched pair. Spencer bit down on his lip. The act was so innocent, but his thoughts wandered, imagining what it might be like if she were kneeling for a different reason.
Jesus, it feels like I swapped brains with Derek.
He cleared his throat, wiping his clammy hands on his pants. She noticed, getting back on her feet, though she didnât seem embarrassed. If anything, her eyes twinkled with excitement.
âIt is more fun that way,â she agreed. âYou see a serious guy like you, dressed up all neat and then, poof, funky socks. Like magic.â
His face brightened at the mention of magic. âI could show you another magic trickâa sock trick.â
She snorted, clearly intrigued. âA sock trick?â
Spencerâs confidence grew, knowing he could impress her and wanting to make her smile again. He grabbed a polka-dot sock from his laundry basket, holding it up between his fingers.
âAlright. Iâm going to take this sockâŚâ He moved with exaggerated care, his hands precise as he folded the sock in half, then folded it again. âAnd just like that, Iâm going to make it disappear.â
He made a quick move, waving his hands dramatically to hide how he tucked it into the waistband of his pants. âSee? Gone.â
She looked at him with wide, amused eyes. âYou canât be serious. Where did it go?â
He smirked and leaned in. âAh, but thatâs the trickâyou have to keep an eye on me.â The back of his fingers softly trailed up her cheek, his confidence growing as he felt the heat radiating off her. In one smooth motion, he pulled the exact same sock from behind her ear.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. âNo way.â
âNow look in your basket.â
She shook her head in disbelief. She looked at her laundry pile, and sitting right on top was the matching polka-dot sock.
She threw her head back, laughing, overwhelmed with amazement.
Spencer chuckled softly, enjoying her reaction. âI grew up in Vegas, so Iâve had some practiceâbut the real magic is in the timing. You were too focused on me to notice the disappearance.â
His words were meant as a mere observation, but the realization seemed to dawn on both of them. She had indeed been too focused on himâonly him.
The tension between them grew. She toyed with her lip, and he adjusted the collar of his shirt as they maintained eye contact.
âLaundromat is closing, folks! Everybody out in five minutes.â The announcement through the speakers made them both jump, shaken out of the trance they were in.
âCan I walk you to your apartment?â Spencer asked.
Her eyes glistened, and her smile reached the corners of her mouth. âYeah, Iâd like that.â
They walked out of the laundromat, continuing their small talk about magic and life while sharing the occasional giggle. The stairway was too narrow to walk side by sideâespecially when carrying a big laundry basketâbut that didnât seem to bother them. The sides of their bodies brushed, their pace matching as they ascended the stairs. Spencer kept an arm behind her back, ready to steady her if she stumbled.
They arrived at their neighboring apartment doors. The air was filled with a mix of the sorrow of their encounter ending and the anticipation of a new one.
The scene almost felt like the end of a first date. Tension hung in the air as they shifted back and forth on their feet, wondering if a goodbye kiss would follow.
âThis is mine,â Spencer commented.
She let out a breathy chuckle. âI know.â
After a moment of lingering eye contact, she decided to take the lead.
âGood night, Spencer.â She smiled softly.
âGood night,â he repeated.
Spencer felt a rush of joy as he closed the door behind him. Flirting wasnât his strong suit. In fact, he wasnât even sure if their exchanges today could be considered flirting. But there was something comfortable about it. Something effortless. And, most importantly, heâd made her laugh. Several times.
Lost in his thoughts, Spencer set his laundry basket down on the table, preparing to fold the clothes. He wasnât paying attention as he reached insideâuntil his fingers brushed against an unfamiliar material.
He looked down with a frown. In his hand was a pair of red laced panties. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he could only stare at them in disbelief.
A vivid image flashed in his mindâthose same red panties, nestled in his neighborâs laundry basket. He frowned deeper, replaying their interaction in his mind. Could I have taken them by accident? He was sure he hadnât. With an eidetic memory, heâd be able to remember something like that.
His confusement and worry were quickly overcome by a feeling of curiosity and lust. Spencerâs fingers lingered over the fabric, the soft lace slipping between them.
It wasnât difficult to imagine her in it. The delicate lace tracing the curve of her waist, the soft dips and rises of her hips. Her body seemed to shimmer in the dim glow of his imagination.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she shifted in his mind. His fingers curled slightly around the fabric, imagining the way it would feel against her skin as she moved. She lowered her hands, fingers trailing over her body as she slid the lace downward, over the curve of her hips, the fabric teasing the soft swell of her backside. He could almost hear itâthe quiet rustle of the lace moving, sliding over her skin as she undressed, the tension in his chest building with each slow, deliberate motion.
His heartbeat quickened as he imagined her pulling the panties lower. The lace graced the insides of her legs, following the shape of her thighs as she removed it with such ease, such grace. And then, just like that, it was gone. The fabric fell, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing before him, utterly exposed.
As his fingers twisted the delicate lace, the image of her in his mind began to fade, slipping away like a dream that was never meant to stay. His subconscious seemed to know that any attempt to imagine her would only fall short. With a quiet exhale, Spencer loosened his grip, folded the lace carefully, and tucked it into his pocketâout of sight, out of mind.
He decided to lie down on his bed, not to sleep, but simply to relax. But his body had other ideas. Before he knew it, his eyes had closed, and his mind had drifted off. The soft purr of his name pulled him from his light doze.
For a moment, Spencer thought he was in heavenâthat his pulse had quickened from the thought of her and now he found himself in a place where he could hear her voice calling out his name, like an angel. But as his eyes fluttered open, he realized the voice was more muffled and coming from behind the wall.
âSpencer? Spencer, can you hear me?â
Startled, he swiftly propped himself up on his elbows, his mouth parting before he swallowed his words. Admitting that he could hear herâespecially after the sounds from the previous nightsâfelt like a confession. The idea of those nights ending made his chest tighten, but if it meant he could speak to her again, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
âYes. I can hear you,â he called back, his voice a little louder.
A long silence followed. Spencer cursed himself, anxious that heâd ruined it. But then, he heard the soft, familiar buzz.
âWhat about this? Do you hear this?â she asked, a playful edge to her voice.
âI- I do. What is it?â Spencer asked, his curiosity peaked.
Her giggle echoed softly through the wall, and his chest tightened with warmth. He smiled without thinking, his heart aching at the sound.
âYou donât know what this is?â she teased, amusement in her tone.
âNo,â he admitted, sheepish.
âItâs a vibrator, Spencer.â
Her words hit him like a sudden jolt of electricity. He could feel the heat rise in his face, but then came her sweet laughter again. Spencer shook his head, smiling despite himself.
âHave you ever tried it?â she asked, her voice sultry, almost daring.
âNo,â he responded quietly, his voice lowered.
âWould you like to?â her tone sounded persuasive.
âI- I donât know,â he murmured, unsure but intrigued. âMaybe.â
A beat of silence passed, before she spoke again.
âYou could come over and find out.â
Spencerâs face went red, his heart pounding in his chest. âN-now?â
âYes, now,â she answered with a soft chuckle, teasing yet inviting.
Spencer scrambled off the bed, his pulse racing as he hurried toward the door, afraid she might change her mind. He forced himself to stop when he stood in front of her apartment, drawing in a deep breath to steady the surge of nervous excitement. The moment heâd been fantasizing about for so long was a knock away from becoming reality.
Knock, knock.
The door creaked open, and Spencer was met with the breathtaking sight of her.
She stepped aside and gave him that lookâthe one that made every nerve in his body stir with need. âCome in.â
âAre you sure?â Spencerâs voice barely made it out, thick with anticipation.
She didnât answer with words. Instead, she moved toward him, lifting onto her toes as she placed her hand on the back of his neck, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. And then, she kissed him.
There was no rush behind her soft lips. It wasnât frantic like his thoughts had been. It was gentleâlike she was savoring the moment just as much as he was.
She slowly lowered herself back to her feet, and she gazed up on him, a soft smile on her lips, eyes twinkling.
It took Spencer a moment to process what had just happened, but once he did, he pulled her back in, his lips crashing into hers with desperate urgency. She responded in kind, her hands sliding into his hair, tugging him closer. His breath came in shallow gasps as he lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and he carried her to the wall. Their bodies pressed against the same wall that had once held their whispered breaths.
His mind felt like it was spinningâthis was real, she was real, and he was touching her. His lips trailed down her neck, the soft skin beneath his mouth sending sparks of desire through him.
âSpencer,â she murmured, and the sound of her voice made his heart stutter. He responded by lifting his lips from her skin, needing to look at herâto drink her in, to memorize every detail.
She met his gaze, her lips parted. âTake it off,â she breathed, pulling at his shirt, her hands shaking with the same feverish need.
Spencer stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving her, and pulled his shirt over his head. His eyes traced every inch of her as she began to undress too, throwing her clothes aside.
âFuck,â he whispered to himself as she revealed her nude body, wearing no underwear underneath the clothes she just took off.
She smirked, her gaze burning into his. âI told you it was underwear day.â
He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. âGod, Iâve dreamed about this,â he murmured, his voice hoarse with awe and desire.
Her lips curled into a satisfied smile as she pulled him back into her embrace, their bodies stumbling towards the bed. She fell softly onto the sheets, and he moved on top of her, capturing her lips in a lingering kiss.
Spencer began to pepper her with kisses, unsure where to start. He hummed as his tongue swiped along the curve of her neck. His wet kisses trailed down to her collarbones, leaving purple marks on his way down, each one encouraged by her sweet moans.
As he moved further up the bed, his knee brushed against something. His focus shifted as he noticed the small, purple object. âIs this it?â he asked, curiously, and she nodded.
He picked it up, noticing it was smaller than his index finger. As he rolled the toy in his hand, it suddenly buzzed to life, making him jump back. She laughed at his reaction, clearly amused.
He quickly figured out how to stop the buzzing and he hovered above her, tracing her lips with the toy. She instinctively opened her mouth, her tongue rolling around it.
âGood girl,â he hummed. âThatâs it.â
She moaned softly as she closed her lips around it, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact. He slowly slid the vibrator from her lips, its surface glistening with the trace of her tongue. Turning it on again, he moved it to her nipple, the bud instantly hardening. She let out quiet whimpers, her body trembling with the sensation.
Once satisfied, he placed his mouth on her nipple while the vibrator moved to the other one. She arched her back with a moan as he sucked on the sensitive bud.
Her hips rolled in response to his touch, and with every movement her skin brushed against his length, making it harder to hold back his moans.
âDonât go quiet on me now. You always make such beautiful sounds,â she purred.
His face flushed as he looked at her, her fingers brushing through his locks. âDonât tell me you didnât know. I think the whole complex has heard you,â she giggled.
He opened her thighs, and without warning, placed the vibrator directly on her clit. She let out a high-pitched cry.
âIâm pretty sure all they hear is you,â he teased back. Her voice was a mixture of laughter and moans and he kissed her passionately, desperate to hold onto that sound, to keep it locked within him forever.
She loosely wrapped her legs around his waist, her hand brushing against his to keep the toy in place. He leaned onto his elbows, hovering above her, moaning when his length slipped between her folds. He moved steadily, each thrust coating him in her wetness. Every time he thrust up, his tip brushed against the vibrator, sending shudders through his body. She upped the intensity, and their moans became synchronized, echoing in the air.
Their breathing grew heavier, only interrupted by soft kisses. Spencer felt her tense beneath him, her legs trembling against his back.
âYou can let go for me. Show me how good you make yourself feel,â he encouraged, his voice low and warm against her lips.
âItâs you whoâs making me feel this good, Spencer,â she whispered, and he could feel the butterflies flutter in his chest.
He held her close as she reached her peak, her soft cries muffled by her face buried in the crook of his neck. Spencer was pressed against the vibrator, the sensation overwhelming him.
She placed the toy beside her, her hand finding his hardness and guiding him inside of her. Spencer let out a needy whine as he was enveloped by her warmth. She pulsed around him, and he knew he wouldnât last much longer. She pulled him into a sloppy kiss, and he desperately moved his hips, driven by the overwhelming pleasure, until he spilled inside of her.
They stayed like that for a moment, their foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. Spencer eventually rolled off her, their legs remaining intertwined.
He turned his head to look at her, and she was already watching him with a sweet smile.
âThat was nice,â he mused softly.
âYeah, it was,â she replied, her voice just as soft.
They spent the rest of the night, and the entirety of the next morning tangled up in each other, until it was time for Spencer to leave for work.
She watched him with adoration as he pulled his pants on, her eyes tracing his movements. As he reached into his pocket, his hand brushed against the familiar lace, and he froze. His cheeks flushed as he pulled out the bundle of fabricâher red laced panties.
âI- uhâŚâ he stammered, holding them out to her. âHere.â
She chuckled. âYou can keep them. Consider it a welcome gift. You know, since the cookies didnât exactly work out.â
âThatâs okay. Itâs yours,â he replied, holding them out to her once more.
Her smirk deepened. âI didnât do that little magic trick just for you to give them back,â she teased.
His eyes widened in surprise. âWaitâyou put them in my laundry?â
She shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. âYouâre not the only magician here, Spencer.â
Spencer laughed, coming to a halt at the door. He glanced over his shoulder. âSame time tomorrow?â he asked with a grin.
She chuckled softly, nodding. âI think I could get used to that.â
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fic#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds one shot
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Wanted: A Gentleman
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! đ masterlist
âIâm serious!â You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelopeâs sofa. âIt was the worst date Iâve ever been on!â
All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girlâs night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed themâJJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself.Â
Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.
âIt canât be that badââ JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. âCan it?â
Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasnât bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.
âWe had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himselfââ
Emily nodded along. âTypical macho male behavior.â
ââthat wasnât even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!â
Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.
âIâm all for being healthy but really? On a first date?â You crossed your arms to your chest. âAt this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.â
Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. âOh no no, sweetheart. Youâre too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!â
âYeah, weâre profilers. Trust us to pick for you,â Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garciaâs shoulder.
Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. âIâm going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.â
âââ
It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth.Â
âHe looks cuteââ Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. âNever mind, look at that horrible grammar.â
JJ leaned in and read the poor manâs bio. âTheirs a million reasons why Iâm your future boyfriendâJesus, itâs really hard out there, huh?â
âIâd take any man whoâs nice and breathes,â you laugh in despair.Â
Emilyâs eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. âYou know, we could just set you up with Reid.â
âReid?â you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its veryâŚunique. âYou have a co-worker named Reid? As in thatâs his first name?â
âNo, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,â JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.
Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. âYouâre so right! Why didnât I think of that!â
âRight,â Emily turned to face the other two. âTheyâd be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJââ the blonde raised her eyebrows. ââcan you talk to Reid about it?â
She shrugged. âI could but you know how stubborn he is.â
âIâll blackmail him if I have to,â Penelope interjected. âBoy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. Theyâll be perfect for each other, he just doesnât know it.â
Your eyes volleyed in between the three. âDonât I have a say in this?â
Emily tskâed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. âIâll cash in on that prize I won last time.â
âNo,â you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.
âYes.â
âNo.â
âYes,â her smile growing wider and wider with each denial.Â
Your shoulders slumped forward. âFine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.â
âDonât worry your pretty head. He will be,â Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. âCheers!â
âââ
It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid readerâlike yourself.Â
You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasnât the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, heâd find you interesting, she urged.
But there was one information you werenât privy to, how he looks like. The girls didnât want to show any photos, stating itâs best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst.Â
You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasnât late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late.Â
Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps.Â
âAre youââ the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. âY/N? Penelopeâs friend?â
Oh damn. He was beautiful.
âYes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?â You squeaked.Â
He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. âHi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.â
âShould we go inside?â You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.
He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. âYour shoelace is undone. Did you know that thereâs more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?â
âWe wouldnât want to contribute to that, do we?â You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.
He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. âShall we?â
âWe shall.âÂ
Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman.Â
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#Spotify
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
GUYS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!!! I NEED TO RIDE THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY
#venusbyline#i have so many thoughts#i need him#spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#ssa spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid smut#dark spencer reid#post prison reid#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid is my husband#my autistic husbands đ#criminal minds smut#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#mgg smut#mgg pics#h*rny hours#smut scenarios
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
bringing your work home with you | S.R.
spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.
âHow was work?â You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, youâd feel relatively similar.
Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. âThe UnSub certainly had a unique signature,â he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.
You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, âOh, yeah?â It wasnât often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information heâd be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that heâd share with you. âWhat was it?â
He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, âHe had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and thatâs how he found them â through sexual fantasies.â
Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, âSo like⌠sex choking?â
âYes, love. Like sex choking,â Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.
When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, âI never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.â
At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, âItâs not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if youâre doing it properly.â
âAnd you know how to do it properly?â You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.
He laughed breathily at your test, âI know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.â
You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words âyour tracheaâ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. âCool,â you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencerâs hand on your throat.
âCome here,â Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until youâre straddling him â one knee on either side of his hips. âYouâre a kinesthetic learner, youâll do better with a hands-on approach.â
Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencerâs eyes, âHi,â you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencerâs lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.
Spencerâs arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire â it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.
Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. âDo you trust me?â He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.
Straightening up, you nodded, âYes,â you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.
Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. âIs this alright?â He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.
âYes,â you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.
Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. âGood, Iâm going to keep asking because weâve never talked about this before,â he informed you. âI wonât fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.â
His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure heâd start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. âThank you,â you whispered, studying his golden irises.
âSuch good manners for me, angel,â he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. âWhen I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,â he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, âIâm stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,â he released his firm hold, âYou feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.â
As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencerâs hand back between your thighs â you couldnât tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.
You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, âHey,â he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. âDonât hold your breath,â he says sternly, âI wonât touch you if you hold your breath.â
Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.
âDo you feel that?â He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. âHow when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?â
Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.
Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, âKeep your eyes on me, love.â
You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it â gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. âSpence,â you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.
âDid you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?â Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.
As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. âFuck,â the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.
In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencerâs forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you werenât trying to tap on his arm.
Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didnât let your eye contact with Spencer waver.
A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, âThere you go, angel.â He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, âI know,â he cajoled when you whined again. âI know. Let it go for me,â he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.
Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.
While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. âI knew youâd like that,â he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. âHow are you feeling?â
Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencerâs neck, âJell-O,â you responded simply.
Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, âI know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.â He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.
âToss it,â you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that youâre still in his lap.
Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, âWhen you feel like moving, Iâll clean up.â He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, âCome on, you need water.â
Sighing, you forced your eyes open, ââm tired,â you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.
Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. âRehydrating is a nonnegotiable,â he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didnât respond.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours#softdom!spencer
5K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Sleepless Nights
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer is awake late at night while you're peacefully asleep. That's when he's reminded about a few little agreements you've had.
Content/Warnings: Course language, brief masturbation (m), consensual somnophilia, fingering (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie.
Word Count: 1.3K
Kinktober Day Seventeen: Somnophilia
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
Spencer spent his time at work more often than not, which you understood how important his job was to him. Youâd known the inside and out of the job and all the darkness hidden within it, so you always gave an overwhelming amount of love and support. There was a lot of patience and trust placed within one another, your husband knowing that you were always going to be there for him and that he should show he would always be there for you as well. You never expected anything big out of him after cases, just willing to hold him and let him cry into your shoulder if the cases were overwhelming for him.Â
It had been three days since Spencer was home from one of his cases, the both of you laying in bed alongside one another as the both of you were looking forward to a good night's sleep. Spencer wasnât getting much of it though, his head against his pillow while your soft breaths from peaceful sleep filled the room. With an arm behind his head, the male sighed in frustration. Insomnia hit him hard on nights like this one, when you fell asleep first and couldnât exactly hold him due to you being dead to the world.Â
He had contemplated reading, however he knew the light would wake you up and irritate you. He definitely didnât need a cranky version of you being angry at him for the remainder of the night and even the next day. So, he reverted back to his usual ways of making himself tired. His hands were slowly pulling his half-hard cock out of his boxers as he let his eyes flutter shut. Thankfully for eidetic memory, he could practically watch any past sexual encounter with you in his head like a dirty movie. Right now, he had a specific night in mind.Â
Youâd been desperate and he was asleep, due to a previous talk of boundaries and consent for certain actions, you decided to try something new. He could remember his eyes slowly blinking open and being met with your face twisted with ecstasy, hands resting against his chest as your desperate and leaking cunt was embracing his cock while your hips were feverishly rutting against his. It showed how much you needed him, even getting to the point where you fucked him as he slept just to not disturb his sleep.
Just the mere thought of your tits in clear view of his gaze had Spencer letting out a low groan. He was fully erect now, his hand fisting at his cock as he let his mind continue replaying the same moments that so graciously flooded his brain. Heâd continued with his movements before glancing over at you, the moonlight seeping in from the drapes shining against your sleeping silhouette. It gave him an idea, one that sent another rush of blood to his cock as he was slowing his movements with his hand. Gently tugging the duvet and sheets back, he was looking over your body.
You were wearing a silk lilac nightgown, one of his favorites. It was like you did this on purpose, as if you knew your husband would have an insomnia spell. With his hand coming up to his mouth, he was popping two of his fingers into his mouth as he was scooting towards you more. His free hand was sliding under the tempting nightgown, his hand slowly tugging down your panties as he kept his gaze on you. He wanted to see how long he could drag this out without waking you. After getting the cloth barrier out of his way, Spencer was using one of the slick fingers to slowly push into your cunt. The touch had your sleeping form let out a breath, the long digit being welcomed as your walls were squeezing around it.Â
He slowly thrusted his finger, a soft groan leaving his lips as you were responding well, probably having your dream taking a sharp turn as he was fucking you with his pointer finger. Your arousal was starting to coat his finger, the male smirking as he gently pushed in a second finger, a moan now falling out of your lips as you were shifting in place. The way your sleeping face twisted in ecstasy had your husband grinning as he pressed a few kisses along your shoulder. As his fingertips were brushing against the spongy button deep inside of you,your body was reacting accordingly as your thighs clenched around his hand, still assuming this was a dream as you were rocking your hips against his fingers.Â
âPoor desperate girl..â Spencer whispered while continuing to prod your needy cunt with the two long digits. Whenever heâd had enough waiting though, heâd carefully pulled his fingers out of your hole before bringing them up to his lips to clean your essence off of them.
There were desperate whines escaping your lips at the feeling of emptiness, your hips attempting to rock back. âShh, I know.â Spencer murmured in your ear, one hand gently lifting one of your legs, his free hand helping adjust his cock at your leaking hole that was clenching around nothing. As the thick tip of his throbbing cock was slowly pushing into your warmth, you were letting out a breathy moan in your sleeping state, hand instinctively reaching back to grip at the back of your husbandâs head as you were both still in the spooning position.Â
As your pussy swallowed his cock whole, he was letting his lips press a few kisses against your neck as he was slowly letting his hips rut into yours. Now it only took a few good strokes before you were blinking awake, hand lightly pulling at the curls that you had a handful of. âGood morning to you too.â You whispered, drowsiness in your voice as you were moving to rock your hips back against his.
âCouldnât sleep.â He murmured against your skin, hand moving to squeeze your hip. âWas jerking off and then i remembered that your sweet pussy would be waiting for me.â He lightly bit down on the flesh of your neck that made a moan fall from your parted lips. âMm, Iâm not complaining. I love being stuffed with your cock.â The filthy words leaving your lips had your husband groaning, head lifting. âYouâre gonna be the death of me, you know that?â He spoke through pants and whines, his thrusts speeding up as his hand was wrapping around your body, large hand taking one of your tits into his hand before giving a rough squeeze.Â
As the rhythmic sound of your skin smacking against one another filled the room along with your combined sounds of pleasure, it hadnât been long until you could feel Spencerâs hand trail between your legs, finger finding your clit with ease as he massaged the desperate bud. He was close and you were too.
âFuck, Iâm gonna cum.â You spoke through moans, his hips thrusting snapping harder into yours as he nodded. âM-me too.â Heâd stated the obvious, working to bring you to orgasm first. The feeling of your walls tightly clenching around him was enough to make his cock twitch inside of you before painting your inner walls with ribbons of his cum, hips slowly coming to a stop.Â
After he was pulling out of you, he couldnât help but lift the sheets to look at your cunt, which had been stuffed with his cum to the point where it was leaking down your thighs. âWe should get you cleaned up. Plus you have to pee.â He panted, moving to rub your hip while tugging back the sheets for you to get up. âIâm going to take a shower, care to join me?â Youâd asked, legs wobbling slightly as you stood from your shared bed.Â
You didnât have to ask him twice, the male sliding out of bed before he was heading over to pick you up with a smile. âNot too long though,â He began, a yawn now falling from his lips.
âIâm ready to pass out.â
#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds smut#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid imagine#strawbeerossi kinktober 2023
10K notes
¡
View notes