#i love spencer :D

[reid-enthusiast]

I Love You

Compared to some of the things the members of his team liked to do when they had a couple days or so off- party, girls, men, drink, Spencer liked something much tamer; movie nights. 

Specifically, movie nights with her. 

He spent a lot of time away from her, so much more than he really likes but she’s insisted that it’s okay because she understands the degree of commitment his job takes, but whenever he’s home, they’re both curled in on each other with a movie list at the ready for them to pick from.  

She loves to watch romcoms. 

He loves what she loves. 

Tonight was one of those nights. The team had just gotten back from a particularly tough case, a man going around raping woman and the disemboweling them, and all he wanted to do was crawl into her arms and forget everything outside the two of them existed.  

When he stepped into their shared apartment and kicked off his shoes, his eyes were immediately scanning the area, looking for her. His eyes latched onto where he saw her. She was sitting on the couch, her back to him, knees bunched up to her chest, book placed over said knees, a blanket draped over her legs as she was humming softly to herself.  

“Angel,” His voice was strained, and it cracked slightly on his name for her. Instantly as soon as the first syllable was out of his mouth her head was whipping around and a huge smile spread across her face. She scrambled off the couch, tripping slightly over her blanket in her haste to get to him.  

As soon as she was close enough she was launching herself at him, and Spencer, fully expecting it wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her feet slightly off the floor so he could burry his face in her neck without hurting his back. He took in a deep breath, took in a lung full of her scent, a scent that covered every inch of his clothes, every inch of his life.  

Despite the fact that he hates being gone for so long he loves coming home to her. It makes everything bothering go away. It made the world seem okay again. She made the world seem a little bit brighter than it was. She was his world. 

She pulled back a little and so did he, but not before taking in one more deep breath of her scent before lowering her slowly back down to the floor. Her smile was still evident but it had softened sligthly, it was more tender than it was excited. Her arms dropped from his neck where she’d been previously clinging to, to rest against his chest so she could cup his cheeks, her eyes raking over his features, committing every single one to memory.  

“Spencer,” She whispered softly, her voice filled with tenderness and longing. He leaned down in response and gently pressed his lips to hers.  

Considering all he knew about the human mouth and the germs passed through kissing he should be disgusted by it, but he’s come to find he could never be disgusted by anything she did, or anything involving her. He was so in love with her sometimes he felt like he couldn’t breathe when she wasn’t near him. It was scary. 

Scary in the sense of he’s never felt this all-consuming type of love before. It was foreign to him, and he didn’t know exactly what to do with it. On one hand he was hesitant to tell her because he was terrified of losing her, not that she would leave him but more so that someone having a connection to an unsub they’d put away would find her and take him from her, but on the other hand he wanted to scream it. Scream it in their tiny little apartment so she could know how profound it felt to love her. Spencer wanted her to know that. He needed her to know that.  

He also knew that she loved him. He could see it when she looked at him with complete division. That scared him too at first. To have someone be so completely and utterly in love with you was scary, but not as scary as feeling the same way about them. He knew she hadn’t said anything out of respect to him. When they’d first gotten together, he’d voiced his opinions about wanting to take things slow. They’d been dating for about seven months now; they’ve been living together for about a month out of those seven. They hadn’t kissed till a month and a half into those seven. He hadn’t done a lot of things until later in their relationship. They have yet to get...intimate. He’s still mustering up his courage on that one and thinks that if he can’t tell her he loves her then he has no right to go to bed with her.  

At least in that sense.  

Spencer was ready to tell her though. He’s been thinking on it for a while, the pros and the cons. The pros out weighed the cons by thousands and he’d been trying to find the right time to tell her. When he got home and saw her run up to him like she did he knew now was the right time. He knew he wouldn’t be able to wait any longer. 

He pulled back from their gentle kiss, his lips aching with the need to be put against hers again. He shoveled it down and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could she placed a finger against his lips, gently shutting him up. 

“I can see it in your eyes. I know what you’re going to say, and I just want to know that you dont have to. Not if you’re not one hundred percent certain.” She pushed back the long strands of his hair behind his ears and tilted her head to the side, her smile getting smaller slightly. Not because she was unhappy but because she understood what he was feeling, they’d talked about it before and he’d voiced his concerns to her regarding the big “L” word and everything that comes with it. She told him that she had been feeling the same way. Telling someone you love them is a big commitment, and she didn’t want to be one of those couples that just throw the word around so much it lost its meaning and importance.  

“I want to say it,” He whispered to her, and he took her hands away from his cheeks and pressed gentle kisses to the pads of her fingers.  

“I need to say it,” He took in a deep breath and forged ahead, shoving down any anxiety he was feeling. “I need you to know how...how absolutely in love with you I am, because that's what this is. That’s what this feeling is. I’ve known I’ve loved you for...well I think some part of me has always been in love with you,” He gave her a soft smile and trailed the tip of his fingers over her cheeks, his touch feather light and slightly ticklish. 

She leaned forward and placed her forehead against his chest, hiding the tears that filled my eyes in reaction to his words.  

“You are to freaking sweet for your own good, you know that?” she spoke softly, her voice slightly hoarse. She felt Spencer’s hands move to his upper arms and he pulled her towards the couch. He sat down and she immediately scrambled to sit on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

They stayed like that for a while. Just hugging each other on the couch, but after a while she pulled back and cupped his cheeks, her head tilted to the side as she stared at him, her eyes roaming over his face, taking in every detail she possibly could and committing it to memory. 

“I love you too,” she finally told him, and the smile that spread across his face was blinding. She sucked in a sharp breath and placed a kiss to his forehead, whispering the words again, then she kissed his cheek and whispered the words again. She kissed all over his face, whispering ‘I love yous’ after each kiss. Finally, she had one last place to kiss, his lips. She stared into his eyes, her gaze completely unwavering as she leaned her forehead against his and whispered the words again. 

“I love you, Spencer Reid. Always have, always will,” She finally pressed her lips against his and savored the feeling. His lips were always soft, never chapped, and he kissed with his whole heart. His arms moved around her waist and pulled her closer to him, reveling in the feeling of her body against his.  

She leaned back, breaking the kiss, and ran her fingers through his hair. Spencer tipped his head back and let out a soft sigh at the feeling. She stared down at him, her heart beating wildly in her chest and her mind raging with thoughts she had no idea what to do with. Her hands stilled; fingers still tangled in his hair. He tipped his head up slightly and opened his eyes a smidge. 

“What’s wrong?” He murmured, taking in the expression on her face. His breathing hitched and he sat up straight, a pang going through his heart and worrying thoughts running through his head.  

She shook her head and placed a kiss to his forehead. “Stop over thinking, I just...” She laughed softly to herself and shook her head in slight disbelief.  

“I’m just trying to convince myself this is real, you know? Cause honestly when you told me you loved me, I swear I thought I was dreaming,” Spencer moved his hands from her waist to cup her cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs under her eyes, right over her cheek bones.  

“I feel like that all the time,” He confessed to her, the smile he gave her was one of understanding and when he leaned back again, he took her with him. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent just like he’d done to her when he’d first gotten home. 

“So, what movie do you want to watch tonight?” He asked her softly, his fingers running through her hair. 

“500 days of summer,” she murmured, and he chuckled in response. I reached for the remote and turned on the movie. 

 Just before it started, he whispered softly to her, “I love you.” and kissed her cheek as the movie began playing. 

[spencestiel-michelle]

*Spencer Reid lingers in the doorway*

Y/n: what’s the matter? you look like you’re struggling there, sailor. 

Reid, conflicted: i really want to kiss you goodbye but the cold you have is highly contagious and i would only be increasing my chances of contracting it and spreading it by initiating skin to skin contact. 

Y/n: you would also be kissing me goodbye- but you’re right, i get it, i’m too germ-ridden for my boyfriend to give me a quick forehead kiss goodbye, i’ll just have to wave from over he- 

*Spencer quickly kisses Y/n on the forehead and rapidly backs up and out of the door* 

*Spencer blushes and and terribly fights back a smile as he blatantly gushes over Y/n*

Y/n: was that so hard? 

Reid, bashfully: i will see you tomorrow. 

*Reid leaves*

Y/n, dreamily: i’m so gonna marry that man. 

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

No one will ever top him, i have learned the hard way..

[slickricklj]

Jill Valentine + Chris Redfield - When you know, you know.

Bonus:

[robinsfixating]

I think that Kass Kitt might be related to John D. Bad

[mayonesavegana]

Today I discovered through my favorite characters that my type is smart people, nerds, sunshine idiots, women who could destroy me and boys who could be Spider-Man.

[requirings]

they finally got hot dogs

[red-retro-rose]

When will my husband (John D. Bad) return from the war

[lorebird]

Art summary!!!

This one was a lot harder to put together than usual, mostly bc I lost all my ipad’s memory not one but Twice….. I also had much more intense schoolwork (and regular work) than last year which meant less art to choose from. A third of these are schoolwork lol (Feb, Sep, Oct, and Nov). I could only find one silly stupid drawing for the month of June before thankfully finding the one I used here (original under the cut because it’s funny)

This was the only June drawing I could find at first

[ladyimaginarium]

we& rly wanna get into like. facepainting/bodypainting & makeup & shiete particularly drag makeup (drag queen, drag king, drag quing/monarch, drag thing, yall get it) bc you can be as extra as you want & makeup for different presentations like masculine & the more traditional feminine & makeup goth makeup & try different styles ie western makeup vs korean makeup just bc seeing all these awesome asf makeup artists is just so damn cool to see & especially for our& system it'd be like. crazy helpful. especially for our& nonhuman members (bc some of us& have pink skin like ambrosia& or purple skin like melsana& or blue skin like astra&!!). we're& also expanding our& wardrobe bit by bit but like. our& aesthetic is literally so wild & all over the place lmao. like. i& can be a hyperfeminine bimbo one second & a witchy goth bitch the next & then a baddie w/ sexy outfits & we& hope to get like. more masc clothes & weaves & goth, pastel goth, lovecore, coquette, cottagecore, japanese kawaii, e-girl/e-boy/e-enby, (ouji) lolita, menhera / morute, roaring 20's, & dark academia aes outfits while Also adding our& own native / indigenous & jewish twists to our& look i.e hopefully getting traditional beaded earrings, hopefully a ribbon skirt in the future, wearing a tichel or a kippah & a magen david. we& also gotta work on our& voice training specifically w/ masculinization bc we& fell off for a bit so if i& upload some for training practices promise u wont laugh ALGJGAGLKLM.

[devilmeows]

35, 4, and 20 for a splat oc of your choice :D

im gonna pick spencer i like spencer :)

35. Do they believe in fate or do they believe they are in charge of their own destiny?

(cw parent death) He leans more on the side of "in charge of their own destiny". It notably contrasts with his mother, who believes in fate and "everything happens for a reason". They have very different views on Spencer's father's death! It upsets Spencer every time his mother refers to it as something that was just meant to happen.

This view on destiny/life in general also manifests in the fact that he moved to Inkopolis to earn money through ink sports to support his family. He wanted to help his mother and younger siblings, so he went and did just that - even though his mother wasn't too happy about that at first.

4. Do they enjoy baking?

Oh he loves baking. His main requirement for any apartment search is It Must Have An Oven. He has a note in his phone with all of his friends' favourite baked goods and he bakes them for them when they're not feeling their best :)

20. Do they have a strong connection to their culture?

He does! Spencer is Splatoon World Brazilian and he, like any Brazilian ever, is very proud of it. There are items that simply must always be in his pantry: rice, beans, tapioca flour, sweet condensed milk, you name it. He regularly introduces his friends to Brazilian things. His girlfriend is even green!

His accent also comes out when he's tired :)

prompts

(also as a bonus: Ana Anathema My Beloved Angel Ana Anathema also loves baking. it's their favourite hobby)

[waywardsunlight]

Seathena means to much to me, I’ve been working on pre-production for this series for almost three years now and I’m so proud of it, I really hope that in the next 5-10 years ya’ll will get to see it and hold it and look at it. Imagining that this series I’ve had in my mind forever could be tangible someday is like... yeah.

[nereidprinc3ss]

fixation

in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.

18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D

Spencer is reading. 

He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway. 

Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...

And... that's enough.

Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior. 

“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg. 

“Hi.”

For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”

“Mhm.”

His brow darts up. 

“With what, baby?”

Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy. 

Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly. 

“Um…”

Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—

You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp. 

It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out. 

“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout. 

“I was.”

Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”

“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He  cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin. 

“Don’t make it about me.”

You allow a minute to pass in silence. 

Fine.

“I liked it,” you say shyly. 

Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”

Like he couldn’t tell. 

“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”

His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you. 

“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”

You make a face. “Shut up.”

“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”

“Is that the saying?”

“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”

“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”

Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck. 

“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”

His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”

It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”

“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”

“It was mean.”

“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’ll let me do it again?”

Spencer pulls you back into another kiss. 

“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?” 

When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly. 

“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”

You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward. 

“You’re so nice, Spence.”

“I thought I was mean.” 

“Now you’re nice.”

“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”

But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again. 

[pathologicalreid]

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.

“What are you doing?” 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, “Baby,” he starts, “Have you ever received oral sex before?”

Your lips part in surprise, wondering why that’s the conclusion he comes to, “I have,” you respond hesitantly. “I just—” you falter, “You don’t have to.”

His confusion deepens, “I don’t have to what?”

“You don’t have to give me head,” you answer timidly, “Because it’s not— you just don’t have to.”

Languidly, Spencer drags his fingertips up and down your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s not what? Now you have to tell me.”

You groan in frustration, looking up at the ceiling fan while you search for words that won’t set your cheeks ablaze, “I don’t like it, and I know guys don’t like it. So, you just… we can skip that part.”

“Just out of curiosity, what about it don’t you like?” 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, “I just don’t get any pleasure out of a guy trying to French with my vagina while I fake moan.”

“Ah,” Spencer breathes, “So, you’ve never received good oral sex before,” he amends his previous question.

Propping yourself up on your hands, you raise your eyebrows doubtfully, “I’m not entirely convinced there is such a thing, and will you please stop calling it oral sex? It sounds so clinical.”

He crawls over to you, putting his face right in front of yours, “Do you trust me?”

You frown, “Of course I do, what does that have to do with any of this?”

“Would you be willing to let me go down on you?” The earnestness in his tone catches you by surprise. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wants to eat you out.

Humming affectionately, you tilt your head at him, “Do you really want to? I always thought guys hated doing it.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows, “Then I guess that demographic doesn’t apply to me.”

“Oh,” you breathe, “You can… We can try,” 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 boyfriend’s 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, “You can always tell me if you want me to stop, alright?”

Nodding, you can’t help but be curious about his plan. You find yourself questioning every partner you’ve had in the past, or maybe Spencer just has a special talent with his mouth—he certainly was good at running it. “Yes,” you say, kissing him again before he moves his head down.

“Thank you,” he mutters, bringing his head back down to where it was before you’d 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. “Pretty girl,” 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 he’s smirking from between your legs. Admittedly, you’d never felt so dizzy at the prospect of having a man go down on you, he just looks so pretty.

He hums absentmindedly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention,” he teases.

There could be an air raid siren going off and you’d 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 bone—everywhere 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 that’s building up. “Spence,” you breathe.

“Are you enjoying this?” He asks, lifting his head up and looking at you curiously.

You nod once, “Are you?” You challenge.

His head drops again, and your breath hitches when he answers, “Immensely.”

Spencer continues but doesn’t 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 could’ve gotten you to beg, had that been his goal, you would’ve babbled please so incessantly that the word no longer held any meaning, but that wasn’t what Spencer wanted. He wanted you to enjoy receiving pleasure in a way that no man had ever wanted before.

“You’re just so fucking perfect,” 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 didn’t feel any different than you had previously. You give a gentle hum of encouragement—at least he tried, and at least you’d be wet enough for sex.

Spencer curls his tongue, dragging your slick up to your clit, and that’s 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, “Shh,” Spencer coos, “It’s okay, baby. I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

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.

“Spence,” you cry, feeling an orgasm that you previously hadn’t 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, “Oh my god.”

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.

“I’m— ah, please,” you babble nervously, inhaling sharply as your orgasm washes over you, cunt clenching around nothing as Spencer’s 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 doesn’t 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 Spencer’s fingers gently teases your interest, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your head spin.

“Can I go back?” Spencer asks, looking down at his hand briefly before returning to your eyes for permission.

Your mouth gapes, “You want more?”

He groans in response, “Angel, I’d spend all day between your thighs if you’d let me.”

Your stomach flips, mourning the fact that you had plans in the afternoon, “I might just take you up on that someday.”

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, “Fuck,” 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 he’s right where you want him, and right where he wants to be. “Oh,” you whimper, taking in a shaky breath while he tentatively presses his index finger into your wet hole.

“Poor baby,” Spencer coos at your sensitivity, “You’re doing so well, letting me fuck you with my mouth. All you needed was someone to suck your clit.”

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, “You’re so good at this.”

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, “’m close,” you breathe, gasping as his movements don’t 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. “Spence,” 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, “My love,” he murmurs, eyes closing as he enjoys the feeling of you playing with his hair.

You chew on the inside of your lip nervously, “Do… do you need me?” Your question was tentative, unsure if he wants you to reciprocate.

“Uh,” he says, equally as unsure, “That’s not necessary.”

You raise your eyebrows, “It’s not like I feel inclined to, but I’d like to… to return the favor.”

Spencer shakes his head, “No, I mean I’m taken care of. I already…” his voice trails off, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” you breathe, “Oh.” Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, hiding your smile, “Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” 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 it’s not often that a man finishes from giving head. “So,” he starts, moving his hand and using his fingertips to draw stars across your bare skin, “Did you enjoy it?”

You huff in response, the answer is obvious, but he just wants the victory of knowing he’s changed your mind. Who are you to refuse him of that? “Immensely,” you answer.

[ghostwritcr]

' don't test me , bella . ' he grunts a warning , shine on his gaze defying her to do so as he borderlines giving into his desire to show her no mercy , yet another side of him she hadn't seen . aware of how little her shirt still covered , he locked his gaze on hers on the mirror as he slides one hand down her ass , victorious smirk on his lips as the tip of his fingers get wet when reaching her opening and he lets out raspily against her ear ' you too talk a lot for someone who just can't get enough , huh ? look at you , pussy still tight from cumming on my dick yet you're soaked once more just by the thought of having it again ... ' her ass cheeks pressing against his dick get a reprimand from him , as he pushes his hips even further , locking her against the hard surface . he lightly shakes his head ' tsc - tsc ! that sharp tongue of yours made you lose your rights , isabella . you wanna be a bad girl ? fine , try it --- i ' ll show you how i handle it . ' as punishment , he teases pushing in his fingers , just so he abruptly moves his hand back to her waist . in no time , he gets rid of her shirt , hungry gaze admiring her naked body on the mirror while he cups her breasts , squeezing and pinching her nipples . ' this is all mine now , angel --- i won't beg . ' one hand goes up , gripping her neck just under her jaw , as the other pushes his shorts to the ground , letting his hard dick smack her ass now that there's nothing holding it back ' but you will ... oh , imma make you beg for every inch . ' he declares , free hand gripping her waist and locking her hips against the cabinet to establish his full dominance as he taunts ' you want me to fuck this tight pussy of yours again ? ask nicely --- show me you know how to be a good girl . ' and just 'cause he doesn't intend on making it any easier on her , he lets his tip glide freely against the back of her soaked folds , rubbing her entrance but holding back from pushing it inside just yet .

" dom ... " she tried to protest as he looked the door behind him. but isabella really didn't want him to stop, not when his words make her wet again. still she was stuffed with his cum from minutes ago. dark eyes meets his gaze, " you can try. think you'll need to do a little more than that. " she taunted before his body pressed up against hers, feeling his hard cock against her ass. her t-shirt riding up, reminding her that she didn't put her underwear back on. ready to be taken by him while she was forced to watch. " you talk a big game dominic. " finding his gaze in the mirror. she liked it when she got a reaction from him, pushed him ... because he would push back. " you gonna fill me up again? beg to come inside me? " the brunette teased, letting her ass push back against him.

[luveline]

i NEED anything with glasses reid or munch reid i’m literally frothing at the mouth 🙏

ty for ur request :D fem!reader

"Emily," you say weakly. "What is that?" 

Emily looks up from her desk, clearly desperate for a distraction, the lip of her coffee mug against painted lips. "What's what?" 

"That." You point. You feel sick to your stomach. "That right there." 

"Oh," Emily says happily. "You finally noticed. Yeah, Spence forgot to renew his contact prescription. He has to wear glasses for two weeks." 

Spencer stands by the photocopier with a perturbed frown, clicking a button, then another. His brow is furrowed and his hair is falling into his eyes. He has the stupidest, dorkiest, prettiest face, and practically every expression he makes has you weak in the knees.

"That long?" you ask. 

Derek looks up in concern at your pained tone, following the line of your eyes. When he realises what it is that's hurt you so, he skirts around the desk to shake your shoulder. "You could always tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'd keep the lenses forever if he knew you liked them." 

"I don't like them," you say. You sound faraway to your own ears. You hate them. They're gonna be your demise. 

Spencer runs a fingertip across the photocopier's screen, in his own world as the machine finally begins to chug out whatever it is he'd been wanting a duplicate of. The frames of his glasses sit snug on his nose. You can tell from even this distance that the lenses make his eyes look a tiny bit smaller. You could probably point out a misplaced freckle if he asked you to.

"Don't be cruel, he looks cute," Emily teases. 

Spencer collects his papers, shuffling them into a straight line as he makes his way back to the bullpen. You pretend to take interest in Emily's things. She sips her coffee too nonchalantly. Derek doesn't even bother pretending. 

"What?" Spencer asks, swift to spot your suspicious behaviours. "Is it the glasses?" 

You wince. "Of course not. You look… you look really nice, Spence." 

"You know he used to wear 'em every day?" Derek asks.

You would've died. "Before I joined?" 

"For a few years," Spencer says, looking you over. "You're unhappy. Is something wrong?" 

He looks to Derek and Emily for confirmation. Emily stutters for an answer while Derek laughs in the background, "She– you know. She just– She missed breakfast!" 

Spencer pushes his glasses up his nose by the leg and drops his copies onto the desk. "I have dried apricot in my bag. Two seconds." 

He bends over his chair to retrieve his bag from under the desk. Your eyes blow wide at his position, the sudden demonstration of well-fitted pants. Derek's laugh echoes up to the eaves. 

"And he has that twenty four seven," Emily says against the rim of her coffee. 

You scrunch your eyes closed and tilt your head back. After a few seconds, a hand touches your elbow gently, a hesitance that comes with only one member of the BAU. "You okay?" Spencer asks. 

"I'm okay. Headache," you lie. 

Spencer presses the apricot into your hands. "Maybe you should see an optician. You know they can tell if you have a brain tumour from one photo of your sclera?" He smiles morbidly, his glasses slipping down his nose. "They measure the size of your optic disk. It takes less than a minute. I can give you the name of my doctor, if you want. She's nice. Not as nice as you." 

Your throat is so dry you can't form words to answer him. He doesn't judge your rigid nodding. 

"I'll write down the number for you. And, Y/N?" 

"Yeah?" you choke out. 

"You look really nice today, too." 

Emily has to kick you in the leg to bring you back to earth. Stupid Spencer. Stupid lovely glasses.