#imaginingafterdark

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 28)

Summary: Spencer and Bunny take the next big step in their relationship. Someone from Spencer’s recent past returns. A/N: I'm here. I'm sorry for the wait. Only two chapters remain. New chapter tomorrow. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Unprotected sex, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), guns, gun violence, blood Word Count: 7.8k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

How many ways were there to welcome the morning? After twenty five years, consisting of over nine thousand sunrises, I still woke to find that the world seemed a little bit different than when I’d closed my eyes.

It felt like a lifetime since the first time I’d woken in Spencer’s bed, yet there was still something new, something to be identified and expounded upon through the insistent internal monologue that so many people have told me to write down.

I’d considered it once upon a time. Then again, there are still some memories that seem too sacred to write down. It would be a shame for someone to misinterpret one of those defining moments.

That morning, though, did not seem at first like a magical moment. It hadn’t seemed like a morning that I would be interested in writing about, either. In fact, I hadn’t even wanted to open my eyes.

But luckily for me, Spencer could spot the safety of dreams fading away without me ever needing to.

“Good morning, Bunny,” he whispered.

While the low volume had been appreciated, I still couldn’t manage anything more than a groan.

The bastard chuckled. His fingers worked carefully to correct errant strands of hair that had knotted and fallen in unpredictable patterns. Even that kind gesture felt like sandpaper to overly sensitive skin. The little bit of light filtering through my eyelids was enough for me to finally understand why ancient cultures saw the sun as a vengeful God.

“How’s your head?” my very unhelpful boyfriend asked.

As I opened my eyes, I repeated my previous reply followed by an even more pathetic whine. But for all my complaining, I had to acknowledge that the sight of his smile eased some of the pain.

“I’ll get you some medicine, okay?” he offered along with an already opened bottle of water.

I accepted the kindness—as soon as I could see straight and sit up. Thankfully, within what seemed like seconds, he’d returned and handed me a savior in the shape of tiny gel capsules. Still, he seemed unsatisfied by my obvious state of displeasure.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

I knew that if I didn’t respond quickly, he would’ve found some reason to leave again. And no matter how brief and well-intentioned it would be, I would miss him more than whatever relief his absence might render.

“I’m okay,” I said through a lopsided smile. “Thanks.”

The longer he looked at me, the more his features betrayed the normalcy of the morning. Not unlike how it looked when he lied, Spencer’s eyes seemed scrutinizing and somewhat apologetic.

Memories of the night before came back like the haze of haloed taillights. I chased the meaning behind worn vocal cords and a sore stomach only to flinch at what I found.

Before I could apologize for the mess I’d thrust upon him, though, Spencer spoke.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

He didn’t have to, but I’d appreciated that he had. In my mind, there was no question as to why he’d felt like he failed. I already knew his explanations. I had understood his missteps the moment I’d seen his face the night before.

I would always understand the terror in his eyes. If not the cause, at least the feeling. But I let him speak because I knew how badly he needed to do it to let it go. In a way, I knew it would help heal something in me, too.

“I wish I had a better excuse for reacting that way, but… I-I just got scared. And I wasn’t as nice to you as I should’ve been.”

I opened my mouth to accept the apology, but he stopped me to say, “I never want to treat you that way. Not even when I’m afraid.”

The distant cry from another night came to mind. A night filled with accusations, tears, and bruises. It wasn’t until halfway through one memory that I recalled another.

But this time was unlike the others. This time, I had been the catalyst. I had been the one to try to hide information from him. I was ashamed about my inability to live up to my own expectations.

I had my own apology to issue, and I knew he wouldn’t like it.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t being fair to you, either,” I sighed.

“No, you didn’t—,” he started.

It only took one glance for him to retreat back into the silence. But as he pressed his lips together, I saw an almost imperceptible smirk. A little hint of pride at my willingness to insist over his objection.

“You were right. I was being insecure,” I admitted.

I hadn’t expected that concession to hurt him so deeply, but I saw how his smile dropped, and his eyebrows knitted with concern.

“Bunny, I—.”

“I know,” I chuckled, “I know you love me.”

“I really do,” he said, anyway.

His smile returned at the same time as mine. Our hands raised in tandem, reaching out to hold onto each other while we confessed to faults the other couldn’t care less about. In that quiet, fleeting moment, I remembered the way I had looked in the mirror. I recalled the rage and frustration and the girl who’d let it happen.

“I actually don’t think I was feeling insecure,” I corrected after much thought.

Spencer froze, seemingly out of fear and confusion.

Mercifully, I explained myself with the utmost confidence.

“I just don’t like her, and I wanted to rub it in her stupid jerk face that you love me.”

A laugh sputtered from his lips. Our bodies swayed closer together in the early morning light. We looked at each other with eyes and bodies still touched by sleep. Our hands roamed over heated skin and soft sheets and found security in the vulnerability.

Even through the laughter, he teased, “You had a different word for her last night.”

But I was deadpan when I answered, “I’m trying to be better about my temper.”

He was equally serious when he answered, “God, I love you.”

As deft as always when it came to loving me, Spencer pulled me closer and wrapped a firm arm around me. His crushing embrace was welcomed with the same enthusiasm as the kisses that followed across my brow and down the sides of my jaw.

I giggled and squirmed until he awarded me what I sought most. A simple, chaste kiss on the lips.

Spencer didn’t want for anything more. He seemed so content, pressing his forehead against mine and letting his eyes flutter shut. I allowed him a few heavy exhales before I faltered.

There was no real reason for it. I had no pressing need, no undying desire to know the fullest extent of Spencer’s wounds. As far as I was aware, he’d never lied to me before.

But there was something about that fear that made me feel as though I was fighting a ghost of a memory. Sure, perhaps his years of law enforcement had made him slightly paranoid, but…

‘I wasn’t in love with any of them!’ he had said about the last two women he’d been with.

But Spencer had been in love before.

Hadn’t he?

“Can I ask you something?”

Still caught up in the chaos, he was quick to confirm,  “I haven’t kissed anyone else since I met you, much less slept with any of them. And if the ‘stupid bitch’ is who I think it is, I’m afraid she might have misdirected her grudge against me onto you.”

The characteristically candid nature of the reply made me chuckle.

“Yeah. That sounds right,” I assured him before explaining, “but… that’s not what I was going to ask.”

“By all means,” he offered freely.

“Have you ever been in love before?”

Just like that, all confidence was lost. His eyes opened at the same time the walls began rising.

“I…”

He stopped before he’d even started.

I turned my attention away for a split second and Spencer was quick to grab hold of my hand to stop me from leaving.

But I hadn’t been leaving. I’d just shifted enough to grab hold of the plush bunny wedged between our pillows.

He released a shaky breath and half the pressure from around my hand. I smiled, and he reciprocated the simple action with relief.

“It’s okay if you have, or if you don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered. “I just… wanted to hear about it.”

Spencer’s ever-emotive eyes fell away from me for what seemed like the first time. I watched as galaxies spun like gears, recalling lifetimes since passed.

I realized in that moment how very little I knew about the women he’d loved. I didn’t know how they’d met or how he’d lost them. I didn’t know how long of his life had been spent with someone else, although context clues told me it hadn’t been much of it.

Certainly, there had been heartbreak. Even without his words, I could feel it in the way he kissed me. So gently, so reverently, like he was loving something he knew he could lose.

I braced myself as I waited because I was so certain that Spencer would tell me a story of his first love that I would forever envy.

But he didn’t. Instead, he just shook his head in disbelief, all while wearing a smile.

“You know, it’s weird. A few years ago, I would’ve answered yes without hesitation but… I think I was wrong?”

What a rare, terrifying sentiment to hear from the bona fide genius. Yet he hardly seemed afraid. If anything, he seemed freer than before—even when his brows knitted and his eyes filled with tears.

“There’s only one woman I would say came close but, in retrospect… I didn’t really know her at all.”

Unsure of what to say, or how deeply I’d wanted to prod into the tale of the mystery woman who’d managed to trick Spencer Reid into believing in love, I just nodded.

He seemed relieved.

So, naturally, I had to ask another question.

“Why did you break up with Max?”

Spencer sat up. His eyes darted away unlike before. There was no introspection; no need for complicated contemplation. He knew his rehearsed answer and shared it without hesitation.

“She already told you. I kissed someone else.”

But that wasn’t what I meant.

“Yeah, but… Why did you do that?”

Caught off guard by the follow up, Spencer let a dark secret slip between his defenses.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged indifferently, “I wanted to.”

I winced. He didn’t.

“That’s an awful reason,” I reminded him. For a moment, he almost seemed to feel bad.

It was short lived, however. As quickly as it had come, the apathy was swept aside by a rip current of rage and something else. That self-loathing was accompanied by… pride and pain that felt like poison.

“She was also threatening to hurt people if I didn’t. But… I’m not going to lie about how I felt. I wanted to do it, too,” he said with a sharp tongue aimed only at himself.

“I wanted to,” he repeated. A quiet whisper of defeat.

I had recognized the shame bleeding through each word and, when I winced that time, it had been for an entirely different reason.

What I had heard in his words was something similar to how I’d felt about myself when I’d admitted to kissing Kyle. I’d accepted his crown of thorns despite the fact he’d forced it on my head—tricked myself so easily into thinking that I’d somehow implicitly asked for the very thing I’d rejected time and time again.

It suddenly made sense to me, then, why Spencer was so quick to tell me that he wasn’t mad at me. A boy’s broken nose seemed less like an overreaction.

‘What happened to you?’ I’d asked him that night in the park. He’d dodged the answer then, but I saw what he’d wanted to say between bitten lips.

Exactly what I deserved.

“Spencer…”

He snapped back to reality all at once, pulled from the darkness with a hard blink of his eyes and a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay.” I swallowed the sentiments I’d wanted to share but felt would be unwelcome at present. Instead, I smiled at him. “I’m not mad at you.”

He didn’t fight me on it any further. I couldn’t tell if it was because he’d believed me or because he simply wanted to move on, but I would respect it either way.

In typical Spencer fashion, though, he couldn’t let the story simmer unfinished.

“Some part of me does feel bad for what I did. Max is amazing,” he said with an increasing genuineness. “She’s strong, beautiful, clever, kind… but I wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with me.”

“But you didn’t love the other woman, either?” I asked.

His eyebrows jumped and pulled the corners of his mouth up with them.

“Not even close,” he scoffed… then laughed. “Truth be told, I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone as much as I hated her.”

The past tense told me all I’d needed to know about the truth behind Max’s joke. That, too, gave me insight into the pride intertwined with the pain.

“Did you go to her execution?” I asked.

He hesitated before he answered without fanfare, “I did.”

“Did you say goodbye?”

“Yes,” he said just as simply.

 But when I asked, “Did she love you?” his breath caught in his throat.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “Probably not.”

“I think at least some part of her did,” I suggested.

At first, Spencer seemed to bristle at the thought. But then he looked up at me and returned to softness with a blink of pathetic puppy dog eyes. 

“Seems impossible not to love you at least a little bit,” I chuckled.

Spencer shook his head with a smile. He paused, then repeated the action with a laugh—almost as if he was saying goodbye to something. Or maybe someone. Either way, he was downright triumphant as he closed the already small space between us. Strong, impatient fingertips pressed into my cheeks and pulled me forward.

Our lips collided in the middle, tasting faintly of sweetness and saltwater.

The kiss made me think of the mourning dove. Spencer had told me all about that beautiful bird with her soothing coos. About how she could drink brackish water without succumbing to the salt. She was so in love with comforting that she’d even sought out the taste of tears.

But, oh, she was so beautiful. The way Spencer always said I was. The way it felt when he looked at me in that usually unpalatable moment, with my hair knotted and distant remnants of makeup and mess smeared over my skin.

Spencer beamed with delight at the sight. 

“I don’t have any doubts about how I feel about you,” he whispered. It was stated like a promise, but he asked for my assurance, anyway. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The sun looked at the moon and he smiled even brighter before paying mind to the fact his affections could be blinding.

“I love you,” he said right before he kissed me.

The action had already been interrupted with laughter when I answered, “I love you, too.”

I’d seen over nine thousand sunrises in my lifetime, and I craved the warmth of many more exactly like this one. Ones where Spencer couldn’t pretend to be polite any longer, and instead devolved into a flurry of kisses and ticklish hands.

“I have something that might brighten your spirits,” he whispered in my ear like a secret.

The feeling of his breath made my body shiver. The words, however, brought a different kind of excitement with them.

“Oooh, a present?”

After taking a moment to bask in the joy of anticipation, he offered an uncharacteristically slow and vague explanation.

“Sort of. I received an invitation for a party tonight, which will undoubtedly be much, much better than last night…”

“Wait…”

Skeptical but oh so hopeful, I tried to remain calm as I whispered back, “Do you mean…”

He didn’t even need to hear it. He knew what I was asking and didn’t hesitate any further to confirm, “Yes, I do.”

“I get to meet the whole team?!” I screeched—without an ounce of decorum and hurting my own aching head in the process. I couldn’t care, I could hardly feel my body’s protests as I rambled off every name I could remember.

 “David Rossi? Section Chief Emily Prentiss?”

“Yep,” he nodded, “they’ll be there.”

The author, the phoenix, the legends. My mind was racing and my body was shaking until it ran into a conclusion with a record scratch stop.

I gasped, hoping the air would help with the buzzing in my fingers and toes. I grabbed onto his forearm anyway, holding onto him like a lifeline.

“Do I get to meet… Doctor Lewis?” I asked.

There was a flash of an almost imperceptible wince that I chocked up to my nails digging into his skin. But then Spencer laughed again.

“She’s very excited to meet you, actually,” he said.

“Really?!” I screamed.

“Careful, Bunny, or you’ll make me jealous,” he grumbled through a smile.

When it only made me wiggle more, my boyfriend sighed. He smoothed a hand over my hair and held me as close as he could despite my squirming.

He savored whatever was left of the moment because he knew what was coming next. In a flurry of frantic movements, I quickly came to a set of conclusions.

“Oh my god. I have to… I have to go take a shower. I smell like old beer and cigarettes,” I gagged. Playfully, I pushed Spencer away and rolled out of the bed with as little grace as could be expected.

As I scrambled towards the bathroom, I shouted, “They’re going to think I’m a hooligan!”

I could feel his eyes on me like I always could. Lovingly tracing my silhouette with a calm but unrelenting lust. The perfect, powerful combination of something innocent and something wicked.

Between the two of them I found a silent sentiment; the very same one I’d whispered to him earlier.

“They’re going to love you,” he promised.

‘How could anyone not?’

There are many legends about the hummingbird. The mighty, iridescent little bird with its fast-beating heart has inspired humans since the first time they flitted by.

The ancient Mayans even told tales of how one of those birds was the sun itself, frolicking through golden fields as a playful courtship for the moon. It was an understandable legend, considering how often we would gaze upon their feathers and confuse them for rainbows.

Hummingbirds were, undoubtedly, marvelous creatures. A feat of evolution that seemed impossible without some divine intervention.

Yet they seemed almost dull compared to my Bunny.

Perhaps, I posited, that was why the female fledglings didn’t bother with the colors. Perhaps they knew to trust the sun to follow them and kiss rainbows against their necks.

As my arms wrapped around her, she bubbled with laughter. She pulled her hair and soft fabric from my path to stop it from wrinkling, but her face crinkled with the hope that it would. Let it be another permanent reminder, a testament to how happy we were.

Once they were free to, my lips descended upon feverish skin that was already dusted with glitter.

My darling girl only continued to laugh, humming between the sounds until she’d near melted in my arms. She looked so beautiful like that. Perfectly preened and prepared to be presented as my most previous marvel.

There had been a time when I hadn’t felt it acceptable for me to hold her like this. But in that moment, I couldn’t imagine a fate where my hands hadn’t known her. They ran down her body but refused to settle. Instead, they continued to move as they guided her to turn to face me.

My Bunny beamed at me through painted lips. I was too afraid to kiss her the way I’d wanted to—too worried that I might ruin the efforts she’d so graciously offered to make sure that the night would be perfect.

So, instead, I traced along the side of her jaw with a careful finger that came to rest beneath her chin. And rest followed, coming to her and allowing her smile to fall to no more than half its previous brilliance.

Her hummingbird heart accepted the comfort of a familiar nest, and I realized all at once that I hadn’t wanted anything more than for her to come home to me for the rest of our lives.

The conclusion was so natural that the words tumbled from my mouth with no grace but a lifetime of yearning.

“Move in with me,” I begged.

Her eyes snapped open.

“What?” she asked.

“When your lease runs out at your apartment, come live with me instead,” I clarified, in case it hadn’t been clear.

It must not have been, because she asked once again, “…What?”

And I suppose if someone hadn’t been inside of mind, the request would have seemed a little out of nowhere.

But that was exactly why I knew it had been what I wanted. Because behind the minutiae, somewhere behind the self-hatred and shame, my heart was screaming for something within my reach.

Underneath the layers of scar tissue and aching bones was a heart that knew it was meant to love her, and only her, forever and evermore.

My Bunny must’ve known that already, but she deserved to hear it, anyway.

“I’ll buy you a house,” I said, “I’ll pay it all off and sign it over to you. I’ll keep two apartments, and you can leave the second you have any hesitation.”

With each passing second, her heartbeat grew faster and took my voice along with it.

“I don’t care how, I just know that I want to wake up to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night for the rest of my life. And I don’t care if that makes me sound insane because I love you. I love you, and I love you, and I want to be with you.”

So swiftly, I was silenced by her lips against mine. With her permission, I kissed her exactly how I’d wanted to. I held her so tightly that no air could pass between us. I drowned in the honey of her and didn’t care when the feeling of it all brought tears to my lashes.

It only stopped when she laughed. She laughed, and I followed until my bottom lip shook too hard to kiss her properly.

“You don’t have to buy me a house, Spencer,” she told me with an ecstatic sort of sureness.

“Well, I would!” I blubbered, anyway.

“My answer is yes.”

My heart yearned for something more, for her words to be in relation to a second question still making its way through the labyrinth inside my chest.

But for now, I just choked on tears so endlessly happy that I almost couldn’t stand it.

Before she could utter one more word, I kissed her again. I kissed her over and over, each time revolving into an even more brutal type of love.

Any concern about her appearance had vanished the second she’d told me yes. From that point on, the only thing I could think of was how to commemorate one of many moments where she was mine.

How could that be? I thought as her dress fell to the floor.

The glitter on her skin shimmered like the sun and I threw my arms around her, wax wings be damned. I held her the best I could before I began to lower her down against satin sheets.

How could it be? I thought with my heart leaping into my throat.

She’s mine.

I sat with the feeling for a moment longer. I let the full weight of the realization set into my bones. Bones that felt lighter yet more powerful than ever.

The confidence set in, my ego inflating as I smoothed a scarred palm over her body. She squirmed beneath me, displaying her chest to me while her nails dug into her thighs.

“I love you more than anyone could ever love anything,” I told her.

My darling girl just giggled, reaching her hands out to me until I could join her on the bed. She waited patiently while I shed my clothing.

“You are an impossibility that I hope to never be proven,” I continued to ramble. Each point was punctuated with the crumpling of fabric on the ground. “I want to be baffled by your existence until my heart stops beating and my lungs stop breathing.”

The longer I spoke, the more the laughter faded until there was nothing. Tears welled in her eyes, and I prayed they would be kind to her. Just in case they weren’t, I hurried the last few movements to close the gap. I kissed her lips first. Then I littered her with them, pressing harder against her temple.

As my lips lingered, I whispered with little breath, “I will be yours until the death of the last star and the universe as we may never come to know it.”

My Bunny’s hands were gentle but insistent. She pressed soft palms against my cheeks and pulled me back.

Universe-colored eyes burned into me, tore through all my defenses and left me trembling in her hold.

“I don’t care about the stars, Spencer,” she whispered with longing I’d never heard from her before. “There is no universe for me if you aren’t in it.”

I could see how much she felt it—the weight of the world. I looked into her eyes and saw a love that, beyond all odds, I could finally comprehend.

I’d nearly had the nerve to ask her right there. Bare and defenseless, I could’ve ended any potential of a lifetime without her.

But something told me that the time wasn’t right. Not yet. So, I trusted my heart, and I made myself wait. In the interim, however…

“I’m here, Bunny,” I assured her between tender kisses down her breast. “I would be a fool not to take full advantage of that, too.”

This time, teary giggles were surely from pleasant sources. As I made my way down her body, my Bunny’s hands twisted knots into my hair but never even tried to slow me down. If anything, wiggling toes helped urge me forward faster.

My heart ached, moans spilling from my mouth at the thought of her ushering me towards her defilement. She’d come so far from the green young girl who’d needed me to beg before she let me taste her.

But, oh, I would beg for it forever.

When my lips reached her navel, I slowed my descent. I savored the sweet taste of salt on her skin while I guided pliant legs over my shoulders. I kissed those, too, suckling on sensitive skin just to feel her shiver.

I gave her no warning before I turned to taste her. I had wanted to hear her cry out for me, to feel her nails drag over my scalp as she pulled me impossibly closer.

My tongue felt cold compared to the heat of her. I buried it further into her, reaching for whatever I could reach between honeysuckle petals.

Her body writhed harder the more I held her down. But I couldn’t stop myself; I wanted, needed to gorge myself on the sweet nectar now smeared across my face.

“S-Spencer,” she squeaked between licentious moans.

I wanted more. My tongue ran through her folds, lapping at the excess and seeking to make more. I focused my efforts on the small pearl at the apex of her. I lavished it, loved it as the most sacred extension of the woman that was mine.

At the same time, I released one of her legs while my other hand carved crescent moons into her thigh. My Bunny immediately utilized the freedom to squeeze her legs relentlessly around my head. I groaned with satisfaction at the feeling of her desire. I fought through the pressure so that my fingers could join my tongue.

While pressing two fingers between tight muscles, I smiled. I opened my eyes to see a frantic and ecstatic woman nearly thrashing on my bed.

“Professor,” she whined.

It wasn’t my fault. She made it so easy to tease her.

I moved slower, taunting her with the goal she sought but couldn’t quite reach. It hadn’t been out of cruelty—only selfish desires. I’d wanted to watch her, feel her whole body giving in to the exhaustion just before I thrust her over the edge.

Tense muscles twitched and rolled in my grip. I could feel how tightly her walls held my fingers. I felt how badly she sought something more permanent.

It was only then that I’d noticed how hard I had been grinding into the mattress beneath me.

She hadn’t been the only desperate one.

Out of selfish greed, I shifted my approach. All at once, I returned to my previous worship. I could barely breathe, but it hardly mattered. Oxygen would only get in the way. I hadn’t needed my mind to know how to love her. It was instinct.

The same instinct that told me to keep going, harder and faster until her muscles seized. She tugged hard enough at my hair that I could feel my heartbeat in each follicle.

My nose pressed harder against her pubic bone, my mouth salivating over an already soaked pearl while my fingers beckoned me closer from inside her.

Each twitch, each pulsing wave of her muscles called me home. I kept going until her body hung limp in my arms.

Only then did I allow myself to breathe. Oxygen-starved lungs greedily sucked in the heady scent of her bloom. I missed the taste of her immediately, but I could tell from her spasming that my Bunny needed a break.

I tried to be careful as I withdrew my fingers. She still whimpered from the loss. Those adorable noises continued when I cleaned them with an equally tainted tongue.

“You are made of ambrosia and honey,” I grumbled as I licked the last of her from my fingertips, “I could worship you forever.”

My Bunny wasted no time.

“But I miss you,” she whined.

The sound shot straight through me to the throbbing ache between my legs.

“So needy,” I chuckled, dark and filled with desire.

As I made my way crawling back over her body, I took note of the sated look in her eyes. Her body was visibly exhausted—to the point she could hardly keep her head all the way up. Yet when I’d finally made it back to her lips, she was quick to spread half-limp legs. The head of my cock bumped against her, and she sighed so dreamily that I barely managed to keep control.

I held my own burning heat, hoping that it might alleviate the impulse to sink into her without warning. I rubbed the head between soaked petals and I groaned.

“Is this what you want?” I managed to ask.

“Yes,” she breathed.

There was no waiting. With one smooth motion, I pushed myself to the hilt inside her.

My Bunny gave a small, silent scream from parted lips. Her trembling body still felt like home.

“Look at me, Bunny,” I ordered between heavy breaths.

Half-lidded eyes met mine without wincing. I withdrew slowly, watching all the while. I watched as the anticipation grew in her eyes. Then, as I slammed back into her, her jaw fell open with praise.

“Spencer,” she cried, “I love you so much.”

“I could never have enough of you,” I said just before I thrust into her even harder. “Even if I have you every day, I will always want you more.”

Each word was emphasized with a collision of burning skin. My blood raged in my veins, making me fuck her harder in the hope that evidence of our longing would be painted in bruises.

I knew that it must hurt, to love someone like me. I knew that my love was a terrifying sort of violence. But I couldn’t hold myself back when she seemed so content to bear it.

“I love you so much, Spencer,” she mumbled. Even with tears streaming down her face from the unmuted pleasure of it all. “I wish I had more beautiful words, but I…”

My hand dropped to her hip, pulling her waist up so that when I thrust into her, there was nowhere left to go. I bumped against the end of her, shivering with satisfaction at the feeling.

“I know, Bunny,” I growled. I rut against that innermost point, making sure to hold her down when instinct told her that I was almost too close.

Her arms, albeit tired, scrambled and scratched her presence against my back.

“I’m almost finished, I promise,” I chuckled. I almost withdrew, but then groaned and fucked back into her when her walls tightened around me.

“Take your time,” she panted so sweetly, “love shouldn’t be rushed.”

With those words, her body begged me to find my release there. Every atom of our beings sought to end this the way it ought to be, with my desire warming her most intimate point; granting her the serenity of part of my soul in a permanent fashion.

Small movements were all I could make, too afraid to stray too far from that most special place, still untouched by sin.

I was on the verge of collapse. I lowered my weight down onto her while still making sure to hold her hips against me. My face found its way against her neck while I remained buried between her legs.

I made love to her, cradled her body against mine and begged the universe to let miracles exist.

“I love you,” I sobbed against sweet sweat-laden skin, “I’ll love you forever.”

And finally, I found my peace. With no space left between us, I let go of everything I had. The warmth surrounded me and burned its way back. I took my time, riding each pulse of pleasure without restraint.

Even when it was over, my limp body kept trying for a few moments longer.

Eventually, we settled into the quiet. Our hearts bounced back and forth between our chests until I could speak again.

“Thank you for loving me,” I said under my breath.

“You never have to apologize for who you are,” she answered with her whole chest. “I love every part of you, Spencer.”

I smiled. A simple, true testament to that moment.

“I know, Bunny,” I said.

For once in my life, I knew.  I knew how little I had known before. I knew the sweetness of love as clearly as I knew the lies uttered in its name. I knew the ways that the others have bastardized what is, always and innately, beautiful.

I knew that she was beautiful not because of purity but because she was human. She was perfect not for lack of fault but an abundance of it. She was, no matter her misgivings, shamelessly her, and somewhere between her being unabashedly, impossibly, wonderfully her… she loved me.

She loved me, and I knew.

All at once, I was invincible. A man made of hubris with his arms wrapped around the sun. I had made it with or without wings. No longer fallen, but full of hope.

As I opened the door to usher her indelibly further into my life, the soft summer sun bathed the world in a honeyed hue. I watched as she basked in the light. So innocently unaware of how brilliant she was.

If she hadn’t been holding my hand, I would’ve fallen to my knees and worshipped at her feet. Instead, I squeezed her hand harder. I pulled her back half a step; clung tighter to this moment before it would be overshadowed by another.

In my pocket sat a ring made of rarities like precious gems and metals and a promise for forever.

Yet a simple glance over her shoulder far exceeded its value to me. Even when she knitted her brow and huffed, “Shoot! I’m sorry! I must’ve left my wallet upstairs…”

“So forgetful,” I scoffed sarcastically.

Her jaw dropped, her mouth agape with astonished laughter and a similarly sarcastic defense. “Well, I got a little distracted by my boyfriend threatening to buy me a house!”

I nodded in thought before I shrugged.

“He sounds like a keeper,” I suggested.

“Mhm. He sure is,” she begrudgingly accepted.  “I love him to death.”

The familiar phrase sparked thoughts like fireworks. It was so strikingly similar, so seemingly fated, that I was even confident enough to ask, “To death or til death?”

My clever, darling Bunny bristled the same as she’d done the last time I made a joke about proposals. Sternly, she reminded me, “You still have to ask me, you know. It’s not a given.”

An adorable attempt at a lie.

I recalled my earlier promise to her and the accompanying promise to myself.

“When I ask you, I promise you that there will be no doubt.”

And there was none. No doubt that after four decades of waiting, I’d finally found the fated end. The light at the end of the tunnel, the other, better half of my heart.

I had made it to her, to that wonderfully impossible hummingbird-hearted lavender girl. To my Bunny, forever and evermore.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her with a gentle smile to hide the excitement in my veins, “I’ve got a plan.”

For the third time that day, her mind got caught on the thickets of a pleasant surprise.

“What?” she asked, “What do you mean?”

“Go get your wallet,” I said in lieu of an answer she likely already knew. “We’re already late because of your stupid boyfriend.”

After the briefest pause, she shook off the suggestion of another question waiting in the near future. Her normal exuberance returned, revitalized by a new realm of possibilities.

“Hey, be nice!” she scolded, “I love my stupid boyfriend!”

“He loves you, too.”

Forever and evermore.

I had been so sure of it—the inevitability of our end.

But fate always had a funny way of reminding me why certainties are never as sure as they seem.

The winter was almost over. It was only when the sun disappeared behind the night sky that the dying breaths of the frost could be noticed. Any plants too quick to search for the summer sun would wilt before they could bloom.

As I approached the car, I truly thought nothing of the chill in my bones. The only thing occupying my mind was her, the young woman flitting about my home—what would become our home—and how I hadn’t wanted her to feel Winter’s cruel bite any longer than necessary.

I should have done more, should have thought and fought with fate.

But I didn’t. I kept my eyes forward as I climbed into a familiar seat and was greeted by an even more familiar feeling.

The frozen kiss of a gun against my temple.

“Hey there, stickbug.”

My skin burned with the heat of a blue flame. I didn’t move, barely breathed as tightened my hands around the steering wheel.

It was a dizzying instinct. A mixture of every possible response to adrenaline. My mind recalled every time I’d ever seen, felt, smelt, tasted gunpowder on my skin.

“Don’t worry, I already took your gun out of your glovebox,” the man assured me, “No need to go looking for it.”

I turned my face towards him without an ounce of emotion present in my features. I faced with him all the apathy he deserved.

“Thanks,” I sighed.

He looked as miserable as the last time I’d seen him, still covered with the stench of methamphetamine and sewage. It had been so long that he’d been forced into the shadows, I could see them etched into his skin.

In a strange sort of way, I pitied him more than I hated him.

“You had to know I was coming for you,” he chuckled like an old friend.

“Yeah. I did,” I conceded without a fight. “Just hoped I’d have a little bit longer.”

“Fate waits for no man,” he drawled.

What an odd voice for fate to choose. What a cruel twist of its knife, to have my company here and now.

Although I suppose it never was going to be anything different.

“No, it doesn’t,” I whispered back.

That quiet admission had been the first sign of my resistance, and the only indication of fear I planned on providing.

Looking back, I almost wish that I’d fought him harder. But I hoped, perhaps foolishly, that if I trusted fate, it might forgive me enough to show me mercy. Despite its having made its opinion on my union obvious over the past year, I hoped that even the universe could allow me happiness—just this once.

There was no fight left in me, I suppose. As I faced the inevitability that I’d almost convinced myself I could change, I turned my cheek to return to the one thing I hoped never would.

I could see my Bunny’s shadow through the window curtain. I saw her with a clarity unlike ever before.

She was so beautiful, so innocent, so pure in a way I could never be again. It was what drew me to her and what had kept me away.

Maybe it made me a chauvinist to hope that I could preserve pristine petals for a few minutes more. But I didn’t care.

“Could you do me a favor?” I asked.

He pressed the metal harder against the side of my face. I greeted its embrace with a familiarity and understanding.

I waited until the light flickered off and her shadow disappeared back into the night. Then, I took a deep breath and allowed my voice to shake.

“She’s coming back soon. Just… don’t make her watch,” I begged the devil, “Please.”

“You’ve got a gun leveled to your head, and that’s the favor you ask for?” he returned.

“Yeah,” I said, “It is.”

After a moment, he shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

Briefly, and with a deafening sound, the world went black.

From somewhere far away, though, I felt the cold hands of fate take hold of my heart and whisper in my ear.

It’s not over yet.

“Spencer!”

A blood curdling scream, a horrendous sound of snapped violin strings and wildfires ripping through the forest.

“Somebody, help!” she screamed at the same time I felt her hands on my burning cheek.

“Spencer, can you hear me?!”

The angry sound of sirens roared in the background, broken with periodic cries.

“Somebody, help!” quickly followed with, “Spencer, please, please wake up.”

I’m so tired.

The smell of her perfume cut through the gunpowder and made me think of spring.

I could almost see her at Elysium. I could see her among frost bitten fields and and two thoughts occurred to me with a gut wrenching blow.

The first was that I hadn’t been able to love her through the spring yet.

Perhaps that was why I had to go—perhaps the only way to allow her to bloom was to do the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do.

Let her go.

The second thought, by contrast, was nothing but a product of my own selfishness. My foolish hope that they were all right when they’d said that your life flashes before your eyes when your time has come.

Because I saw her. I saw her in the spring.

Open your eyes.

Yet no matter how much I wished for it to be true, I could see the light in her. I could hear the desperation from the universe in her screams, not asking me to stay, but begging me to let her go.

“Spencer, look at me,” she urged me, turning my head and letting the blood fall over her fingers.

The crimson stained her dress the same as it had in my dream, and I hoped that she would still find a way to sprout lilies in my wake.

“Bunny…” I mumbled.

Please don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re breaking my heart.

“Yes!” she cried, a wavering smile appearing beneath the tears, “That’s me! Your Bunny! Stay with me, Spencer.”

“So beautiful,” I breathed. Burning iron covered my lips that trembled with every breath. Still, I croaked, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she blubbered. “I love you, just—just keep your eyes open, okay?”

I swore I did. I used every ounce of willpower left in me to fight the inevitability. It wasn’t until then, until she called my name again that I realized this wasn’t fair.

“Spencer?”

No.

The cruel hands of fate covered my eyes with a curtain of darkness.

No, wait, please.

“No. Spencer, no, no, no,” she cried in tandem with my pleas, unknowing that she was begging the wrong person when she yelled, “Don’t leave me, Spencer, please!”

I didn’t want to, but I hadn’t been given a choice. With eyes seemingly still open, I focused only on the feeling of home I found in her hands.

“I love you,” she sobbed, and I allowed myself to find a modicum of peace within the sound.

“You promised.”

I did. And it hadn’t been a lie.

I love you, I had promised.

And oh, had I loved her. Too much for the universe to allow, I thought.

Then again…

Over and through the sound of sirens, I heard a familiar melody. A haunting but familiar song from the radio; one that I’d heard a million times before.

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

In some nearly lost memory, I could almost hear her singing along as it lulled from staticky car speakers.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

Fate always did have a funny way of proving me wrong.

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her.

| Part Twenty Nine |

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Foxy always knows how to make me giggle and kick my feet 🥰 even mid-smut lmao ❤️

Afternoon Delight

Summary: You didn’t have sleep in mind when you asked Spencer to take a nap with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Softdom!Spencer, praising, teasing, grinding, handjob, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

With a dramatic sigh you closed the laptop in front of you and stretched your arms over your head, announcing, “I need a break!”

Spencer looked up from his book to find your eyes. “Study breaks are very important. You’ll be able to focus a lot better afterwards,” he explained. “Do you want coffee?” 

“No,” you said with a smirk forming on your face. “I wanna go lie down with you.”

Spencer obviously did not get the hint and declined, “I’m not tired but you can take a nap if you want.” 

You got up from your desk to move over to the couch, sitting down right beside your boyfriend. In an instant you could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was almost ridiculous how much you craved his nearness, even after many months of spending most nights together. There was just something about him that almost drove you insane. 

“Did you know that short naps are highly efficient and can help improve productivity. You just have to make sure not to sleep for too long,” he explained in his usual rambling manner. He was still oblivious about your true intentions.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded and winked at him. “What if I took my clothes off for my nap?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a split second. “Some studies suggest that sleeping naked can have a positive effect on your sleep quality. But knowing you, I’d assume you would get too cold to be comfortable.” 

“So, would you help me get warm?” You chirped, hoping that he’d finally understand what you wanted. 

His eyebrows furrowed at your question, obviously confused about what you were talking about. “I would,” he said, “but it’s probably easier if you just wore clothes, like you usually do when you sleep.”

Usually it didn’t take this long for Spencer to understand when you wanted him. He’d catch onto your playful tone or simply read your body language. He apparently really took your word for it when you told him earlier that you were determined to get your work done with zero distractions. 

But even being in the same room as Spencer was more distracting than you could have ever imagined. 

“Can I tell you a secret,” you snickered as you moved even closer to him. “I’m not really tired.”

The poor doctor looked at you more puzzled than ever. “Then why would you want to take a nap?”

There was barely any space between the two of you left at this point. It still took him a few more seconds to interpret your mischievous grin correctly. 

“Oh!” He laughed. “You want to sleep with me.”

“Wow, I really need to work on my seduction skills,” you giggled while climbing into Spencer’s lap. 

“You’re usually pretty good at it,” he chuckled.

He smiled against your lips when your mouths finally met. With more fervor than you had anticipated he started kissing you, while his hands pulled your hips even closer against his body. His tongue begged for entrance, joining yours in a dance that let heat rush through your entire body. 

It only took a few more moments until you felt a familiar hardness straining against his pants. 

You started to rock your hips ever so slightly while breathing against his lips, “Seems like it’s working.”

Your boyfriend leaned back to look at you. One of his hands found your face and his fingertips began tracing along your cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “How could I ever refuse you anything?” 

The hunger in his eyes only grew when a timid sigh fell from your lips. He watched intently as you kept grinding against him while the tension in your body only grew. His hardness twitched against your clothed core as you used his body for your own pleasure. 

“So needy,” he purred as he watched you moving in his lap.

The friction your motions created was making you desperate but it wasn’t enough for you. Spencer knew that, too. He still wanted to see how long it would take you to start begging for him. 

His fingertips were buried into the supple flesh of your hips, keeping you close to him as you started to struggle to keep moving. With your face buried into his neck, he could feel your hot, heavy breath against his skin. 

It was too much and not enough for you at the same time. The lace of your underwear was soaked with your essence at this point. You felt like you might combust if you didn’t find release anytime soon. 

“Please,” you finally whispered into his ear, desperate for him to take over. 

“What is it, my sweet girl?” He chuckled as he leaned back to find your eyes. “What do you need?”

The smirk on his face revealed that he knew exactly what you needed. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Please… I need you,” you begged. 

He found your lips in a kiss, soft and sweet like a silent promise to always take care of you. When he motioned for you to get off his lap, you whined at the loss of pressure against your center. 

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Just be patient for me.”

Your legs felt weak when you stood in front of him, waiting for his next move. He got up from the couch and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where he slowly began undressing you. The second your bra dropped to the floor, his fingers began toying with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over your hardened peaks while he kissed you again. 

You really tried to be good for him while he took care of you but it became almost too much. You took a few steps back to lean against the closest wall, your knees suddenly couldn’t be trusted to hold you upright anymore. Spencer followed without a comment, clearly enjoying witnessing your desperation. 

His hands were still on your breasts, caressing them just the way he knew you liked. When his palms finally descended further down your body, a relieved sigh fell from your lips. He removed the remaining pieces of clothing until you stood completely nude in front of him. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your neck. “So patient with me.” 

Hearing his praise aroused you even more and you could feel your desire dripping down your inner thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be long now until he’d let you feel him. He took a step back to let his eyes roam over your body while he undid the buttons of his shirt. 

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled and noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks as he kept undressing.

When he finally revealed his body to you, you could barely take your eyes off him. Closing the distance once more, your hand dared to make contact with his cock. Spencer’s eyes widened at your touch and it became obvious that he struggled to keep up his demeanor. He would never admit it but he was just as desperate as you were. 

His hardness felt hot and heavy against your palm and his tip was already leaking when you began moving your hand. Spencer’s breath hitched right before a moan escaped his throat, a sound so sinful it almost drove you insane. He indulged in the sensation a few more moments before he took over the situation once more. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded with a firm tone and you did as he said. 

However, when you lay down on the mattress he shook his head. “No, I want you on your knees.”

You didn’t need further instruction to know exactly how he wanted you. You turned around,  got on your knees and bent over, your forearms pressing into the mattress. Heat rushed to your face when you took in the position he wanted you in, aware of the view you gave him. 

He stood right behind you when he purred, “So pretty. I love seeing you like this.” 

His hand made contact with your backside, grabbing your flesh before descending down to your cunt. Your glistening folds were so sensitive that your entire body trembled at the sudden contact. He let his fingertips glide through your slit before focussing on your already swollen nub. 

“You’re dripping wet and I have barely touched you.”

You were already too far gone to even respond to that. A fit of moans fell from your lips and you buried your face into the sheets to stifle the sounds. Spencer’s free hand found your hair and gently tugged on it to turn your head. 

“Don’t hide those beautiful moans from me. I want to hear what I do to you.” 

When he finally entered you with two of his fingers, you couldn’t help but grind your hips back against his hand. He curled his digits inside you, pushing against your walls to finally help you fall over the edge. As much as you loved feeling his fingers inside of you, you were still desperate to feel more of him. 

You needed all of him. It was impossible to wait any longer. 

“Please,” you pleaded once more. “Please, Spencer.” 

“What do you need, my love?” This time his question seemed genuine. 

“I need you,” you mumbled. “Need you inside me.” 

“I am inside you,” he teased with a playful tone in his voice. 

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock!” 

The crudeness of your words shocked and excited the both of you at the same time. Spencer finally gave in, granting you what you had been begging for all along. He removed his hand and positioned himself behind you before he let his tip glide through your folds to cover himself with your arousal. 

Then, without another warning, he pushed into you with one swift motion. He didn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, instead he instantly began fucking you with a ruthless pace. His hands gripped your hips to keep you in place. His fingertips were buried into your skin so deeply, you were sure to find bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Feels so good.” 

He gave you exactly what you needed, pushing into you over and over again until your mind was completely blank. You couldn’t think about anything but him, how he handled your body, how he filled you out so deliciously, how only him could make you feel so good. The pressure inside you grew as the room filled with your moans and the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding. 

“You love it when I take you from behind, don’t you my sweet girl?” 

“Yes!” you cried as you started dancing along the brink of euphoria. Even though you could barely take his forceful thrusts, you still wanted more. “Harder!” 

The entire bed shook under the force of his motions until he felt your walls tighten around him. With a few more skillful strokes he pushed you over the edge, feeling you pulsing around his erection as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer slowed down to let you ride out your high, watching how your entire body trembled with pleasure. 

When he slipped out of you, he was still painfully hard. As pleasurable as this position was for the both of you, he craved your nearness more than to find quick release. 

Spencer Reid was a romantic after all. 

“Can you turn around for me, please,” he cooed. 

You did as he said and welcomed your boyfriend on top of you. His demeanor had changed when he entered you again, his motions were slower but still purposeful. His facial features were soft and his eyes filled with adoration for you. You wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep him impossibly close before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“I love you more.”

It didn’t take long for Spencer’s movements to get erratic as he got close to his own climax. 

“I’m so close,” he sighed. “You feel so good.” 

You ground your hips against his, intensifying his thrusts. You kissed his lips once more before whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for him. His body began quivering as he throbbed inside you, sharing his warmth with you until he had nothing left to give. After he caught his breath, he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face before softly kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and finally, your lips. 

You still held him close inside your arms, refusing to let him go just yet. Your bodies were still connected even after he had gone soft. Spencer tried to move but you didn’t let him, still craving to have him close.

“Just a little bit longer,” you sighed.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

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[imagining-in-the-margins]

Instinct (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer explains the biology of sex to Reader during the act. Request: Spencer Reid explaining what happens to your body during an orgasm while giving you one 🥵 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Fingering, biological processes, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, mild degradation/dumbification Word Count: 1k

MASTERLIST

When you find yourself in Spencer’s bed, there is no time to wonder what led you there. You have no interest in debating it, either. Your attention is diverted, devoted to more pressing things—things like the feel of his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck.

You’d never even allowed yourself to wonder what instinct drove you straight into his arms… not until his mouth shifts to your ear.

“Do you want to know why you’re really here?” he asks.

You nod before you’ve even considered the question.

This was the correct answer, and he rewards you by sneaking a hand between your thighs.

“You’re here because I want you to be,” he says, “and humans are, at their core, simple animals acting on the same instinct as everything else.”

You try to focus on the words he’s saying but you’re too caught up in how beautiful his voice sounds. You are also distracted by his fingers that gently cup your heat.

He pauses, his chest heaving with excitement as he taunts, “You wanna feel good, right?”

You try to nod, but he’s already speaking.

“I know, sweetheart.”

Mercifully, two fingers slide between slick folds. Your back arches forward, seeking to feel the weight of his body but he stays too far away.

He just watches you with a clever smirk. Your stomach tenses under the lustful gaze, but you say nothing.

It’s the right answer.

“You know, your brain actually changes when I touch you like this,” he chuckles.

His fingers continue to trace the outline of your heat but fail to breach the entrance. He is movingly entirely too slow and seems to be taking far too much pleasure in your squirming. 

“The part of your brain that dictates your values and how to make decisions… that’s long gone.”

You know you’re supposed to nod, but you whimper, instead.

“No fear, no anxiety, no pain,” he hums, “your mind can only focus on one thing…”

“Please,” you beg.

He punishes your interruption by sinking both fingers into you without warning.

“Me,” he confirms, “All you can think about is how to get me to keep touching you like this.”

You cry out for him, reach for him like a tether.

He more than lets you. He revels in your nails digging into his skin.

“Your heart and lungs are working so hard, but they can’t keep up.”

Spencer’s motions are faster, his fingers thrusting into you with a ruthless pace. Exactly as he said, you are gasping for air between desperate moans.

But he just prattles on, still sporting that dark, almost condescending smirk.

“Do you want to know why your thalamus is active during sex? It’s because it helps integrate memories. Memories about touch and those secret last-second thoughts just before you fall apart.”

You can’t focus enough to even try to conjure a fantasy beyond his fingers that you are figuratively and literally wrapped around.

He has you exactly where he wants you at the precipice of oblivion. Only then does he remove his fingers and drags them over the swollen pearl at your crest.

“What are you thinking about?” he teases.

“You,” you gasp.

It’s the right answer.

Spencer is quick to kiss you, his lips crashing against yours while his fingers feverishly stroke at the most sensitive part of you. His tongue sneaks between your teeth until you feel there is no part of you he hasn’t claimed.

You sob against his lips while your body writhes beneath him. You tremble with tension and overwhelming relief until you collapse back into the bed.

Spencer, though, seems unfazed by your exhaustion. Instead, he pulls his hand back and continues his lecture despite your glazed-over eyes.

“Now you’re here. Dopamine is rushing through your body. You might think it’s just about pleasure, but you’re actually learning.”

He stalks closer, crawling over your half-limp body. His eyes are still burning with that same predatory look.

“Right now your body is telling you that I know how to fulfill your needs and it’s trying to figure out how to make sure I’ll do it again and again and again.”

With the same hand he used to touch you, Spencer touches himself.

“But see, this is where it happens. These formative moments when you’re nothing but a blissful mess, that’s how I make sure you come back to my bed.”

He lines himself up against aching folds. He groans at the nearly formed wetness, but he hesitates to push forward.

“Right now your body is begging you to find someone, anyone to take care of you,” he says with great satisfaction. “This is the most important moment, when your blood coursing with dopamine, oxytocin, vasopressin, and prolactin…”

Then, right before he fills you past your breaking point, he chuckles against your lips.

“This is where you fall in love.”

As if on command, your body clings to him. You wrap all your limbs around him and try to bring him closer somehow.

But he’s already too close. Each time his hips crash into yours, you can feel him bottom out with an almost euphoric jolt of pain.

You can feel it, the truth in everything he’s said. His skin burns into yours as your heart struggles to keep up with the slew of sensations. Your chest, face, and neck are on fire, and he seems dedicated to trying to quell that heat with feverish lips.

After what feels like forever and not nearly long enough, he fucks you even harder. His teeth sink into your neck and the almost-pain makes you shiver.

“Do it again,” he growls against bruised skin, “Come for me.”

With a particularly brutal thrust, he fills you until you have no other choice. Your body snaps, seizes around him and begs him to reward you one final time.

You feel the gentle waves of warmth, the heavy throbbing of his cock as he joins you in the bliss. Your bodies begin to slow from frantic motions until you are left cradled in an exhausted embrace.

Spencer moves just enough to be able to kiss you, soft and slow and without any hint of pain.

And you know that… is exactly why you're there.

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Thanks for reading!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)

Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after).  Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.

This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).

The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…

Except for me. I stayed inside.

I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.

Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.

I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.

“Are you still hiding in here?”

I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.

“No!”

I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.

“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.

When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”

To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.

“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.

Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.

From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.

As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”

Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.

I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.

“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.

“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”

“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”

When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.

“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.

Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.

I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.

My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.

The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.

“And what?” she said.

“What?”

“… You stopped talking.”

“I did?”

She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.

“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.

“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”

All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.

“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”

“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.

“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.

I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.

Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.

“So, will you help me?” she asked.

“With what?”

She scoffed, then laughed.

“… the sunscreen? Duh.”

Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.

“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”

“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.

Didn’t seem to matter which.

I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.

“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me�� uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.

And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”

She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”

When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.

My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.

That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.

Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.

At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.

Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.

With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.

“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.

To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”

I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.

(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)

And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.

“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.

I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.

“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”

“Did you already apply yours?”

“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.

I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.

“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”

“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”

“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”

“Oh… um, okay.”

I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.

I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.

The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.

“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.

I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.

I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.

I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.

“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”

“What?”

She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.

“What?” I asked again.

She held up a single finger in reply.

I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.

Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.

“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.

Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.

“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”

I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.

“Wha—?”

Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.

And by that, I mean she kissed me.

With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.

Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.

“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”

For what? I wanted to ask.

But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.

I spent the next several hours outside.

The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.

But they also knew I liked her.

It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.

(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.

Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.

It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.

She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.

I’m definitely losing it.

That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.

Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.

The blood was gone again. I was doomed.

“You’re still hiding, huh?”

I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.

“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.

I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.

“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.

I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.

“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”

She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.

“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.

I panicked.

“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”

She sighed.

At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.

Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.

She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.

 “You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”

My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.

“I can accept that.”

She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.

“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.

Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.

“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”

“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”

“I see,” she laughed.

Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.

“Will you help me with that?”

Not clear enough for me, though.

“What?” I asked.

“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.

“Uh—.”

Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.

“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”

That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.

“Come on, pretty boy.”

I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.

Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.

I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.

That time, I was prepared.

My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.

She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.

Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.

Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.

“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”

Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.

“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”

Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.

“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.

I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.

“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.

“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.

That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.

“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.

Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”

I was almost relieved. Almost.

“Yeah, and…”

Then she started taking off my pants.

“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.

Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.

She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.

“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”

Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.

Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.

My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.

“We can shower after, then.”

“Thank you god,” I cried.

Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.

Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.

She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.

Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.

Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.

As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”

She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.

“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.

“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”

But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs. 

At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.

“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.

Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.

She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.

“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”

That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.

I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.

Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.

All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”

She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.

I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.

“Good girl,” I assured her.

But I wasn’t finished yet.

“Now turn around.”

She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.

My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.

Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.

When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.

It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.

My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.

“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.

“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”

The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.

I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.

“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”

“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.

Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.

“That’s it…” I sighed.

Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.

“You can take it,” I assured her.

She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.

“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.

“Spencer,” she whimpered.

Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.

I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.

That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.

With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.

“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.

I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.

But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.

“Harder,” she cried out.

And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.

The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw. 

Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”

Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.

She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.

“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.

But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.

Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”

That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.

“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.

The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.

I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.

“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.

I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”

It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.

My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.

I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.

My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.

(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.

“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”

Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.

I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.

When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.

In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.

“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.

“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”

“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.

“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”

She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.

“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.

And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.

“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.

She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.

With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have. 

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Thanks for reading!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hii! first off i love your series (the birds& the bees) so much you’re truly one of my favorite writers i’ve ever read! the way you write is so intelligently written i truly truly love and appreciate it soooo much.

this isn’t a request, just wanted to ask if you have more fics of reader losing her virginity? basically kind of innocence kink like your other multipart the big bad wolf (I ALSO LOVE THAT ONE AHHH!) and if u don’t, do u have any recs? ☺️

with love!

Here are all of my fics involving Reader losing her virginity, including the two you mentioned. There are surprisingly few. I have a few others in my WIPs... I should get back to those soon!

The Birds & The Bees: Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

Big Bad Wolf: Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

Inexperienced/Experience: Virgin!Reader has a secret no one expected, least of all Spencer. She’s a virgin… in every way.

Saltwater (Chip): You take a liking to the community landscaper and decide its high time to act out the pool boy fantasy you’ve always dreamed of.

If anyone reading has some they'd like to recommend, please drop them in the comments or reblogs (including self-promo)!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Everyone thank OP for doing JJ the justice the showrunners never could (then read the rest of her Masterlist, which includes both JJ and Emily fics)!

OMG do you think whenever you have the time you can make a "date morning" fic of jj x fem!reader reference to episode 2?!

Date Morning

Fandom: Criminal Minds 

Pairing: JJ x fem!reader 

Words: 1.6k+ 

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Summary: My little rewrite of the date morning scene. Only, it is way fluffier and way more gay.

Warning: top!JJ, bottom!reader; fingering (r receiving), a little bit of overstimulation.  

(gif not mine; credit to creator)

When JJ walked into the kitchen to grab her morning cup of coffee, she was surprised to see you had already prepared it for her, as well as breakfast. Time with her has been fleeting, so despite your hatred for early mornings you got up anyway and prepared her favorites just to spend more time with her. You were even feeling a little more upbeat despite not being a morning person. The one reason for this: date night.

No matter how busy your wife was, JJ usually sets aside time for date night. And date night meant you actually got to get out of the house and sit across a fancy dinner table with the love of your life. No kids, no work, just you and her and an air of romance to enjoy the spark you still felt any time she looked at you with all the love in the world shining bright in her eyes. 

Sure, you didn’t get much time with her, but you still saw that look any time she watched you walk into the room. The only thing was, her job was getting more demanding and some big, ongoing case was pulling her away even more frequently. So while you saw that look of love, that’s about all you were getting from her. When she was home she was exhausted, often going straight to sleep after a long day of work. You missed her, you understood and would never tell her to limit her work when you knew it was her passion, but that didn’t mean you longed for more time with her. It wasn’t just you either, you knew your kids missed their other mom. But still, she made up for that with quality time for them when she was home and had the energy. That also just meant less alone time for you two to connect. Even though your heart swelled at the happiness that time with the whole family brought, you craved alone time with your wife.

JJ’s arms wrapped around you from behind as you were busy paying attention to plating the food you just cooked. Her lips pressed against your cheek and you couldn’t help the warm smile that spread on your lips. 

“Hey you,” JJ breathed in between soft kisses placed to the side of your neck. 

“Good morning,” you answered as you turned in her arms. “I made us breakfast.” Usually JJ did that in the morning. As you weren’t one for cooking much either in the mornings, you were grateful for JJ to take on this job. But since the boys were staying at their grandparents for a couple days, you felt you could handle breakfast for two. It was much less stressful than cooking for the whole family.

“I can see that,” JJ chuckled. Her nose nuzzled yours before she leaned in for an innocent kiss to your lips. She pulled back a moment later, a soft smile across her face as she gave you that breathtaking look you loved so much. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well…” Suddenly, you felt nervous to admit you wanted more time with your wife. “It’s date night, but I thought I could start it off with something special a little early.”

“Date night?” JJ frowned. 

“Yeah, I made reservations at that fancy Italian place you like.” The nervousness doubled as you saw the look in her eyes change. Confused by her reaction, you waited for her to say something. 

She just stared at you for a moment, a guilty look written all over her face before finally speaking. “I have to go into the BAU today.” Your face automatically fell and you couldn’t hide your disappointment quick enough. “We have that case.” JJ offered and you unfortunately understood. But the crushing feeling of disappointment still weighed heavily on you as the daydreams you’ve had all week of this alone time with your wife slipped through your fingers. 

“Hey, hey,” JJ took your face in her hands. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

You nodded, but in the back of your mind you couldn’t stop the thought of when she’d even have time to do that. 

“Please, stop making that face, baby.” JJ pleaded, her thumb stroking your cheek gently as she continued to hold you in place. 

“It’s just… it’s date night.” You didn’t know why you were repeating it. Your intentions weren’t to make your wife feel more guilty than she already felt, but the disappointment you were feeling was just overwhelming and you were struggling to hide it. “We haven’t spent much time, you know, alone. I miss you.” You said the last three words in barely a whisper and realization dawned on JJ finally.

The truth was, she missed you too and she found herself craving you in those lonely nights where her job sent her off to stay in hotel rooms. She didn’t realize just how much it hurt you too to not have that time you both needed to feel close to each other. JJ knew at that moment that she had to fix that. She needed to make an effort, despite her horrible work schedule, to consistently have this time with you. But the question was how…

And then it dawned on her. She didn’t have to go into the office for a few hours, opting to go in later in the day since she had a long night ahead of her there. And since she had time to kill, maybe she could skip her morning jog, skip breakfast (even if she was grateful you went through all the trouble) and seize the opportunity she had in front of her. 

“What if…” JJ slowly started to grin. “We turned date night into date morning.” She leaned in and ghosted her lips across your neck, making you tilt your head with her hold on you so she had better access.

“Date morning?” You repeated, your mood suddenly shifting at the implication of it. 

“Mhm,” JJ mumbled against your skin before tenderly nipping at your neck.

“I think…” Your voice cracked as you spoke, the feeling of her lips on your neck already causing you to squirm and press your thighs together. “I think I could be on board with that.” 

“Good,” JJ gave you a devilish look before pulling back, taking your hand into her own and leading you both to the bedroom.

———————————————————

What took you almost an hour this morning, JJ undid in basically two seconds flat. Your clothes were strewn across your bedroom and your back was pressed against the mattress. You were sure your hair was a mess from the way JJ tightly tangled her fingers in it when she kissed you and what little makeup you put on was absolutely ruined by now. What with the fact that JJ was pushing you fast to your second orgasm already and going at a relentless pace, causing you to bury your face into the pillow to muffle your uncontrollable moaning.

But did you even care about all of that? Absolutely not. Not when your wife was rocking her whole body into you with the movement of her fingers, making them pump deliciously harder and deeper each time. She had your legs hooked around her waist as she moved and that plus the combination of her bare skin against yours had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

She was grunting on top of you with each snap of her hips as they followed the movement of her fingers. Her muscles flexed as she moved and you were in awe of the strength and stamina your wife was showing so early in the morning. You really weren’t a morning person, but with the way JJ was so eagerly all over you, it was clear that she was. 

Your eyes rolled back and your head fell limp onto the pillow as you felt her push you to your limit, adding a third finger and curving them just right. After making you cum once you took her so well, and she was quick to tell you just how good you were being for her. You never got used to the way she would talk to you. Your face flushed immediately the moment she whispered the words “good girl” into your ear as a moan broke through your lips and echoed through the room. You whimpered at this and felt yourself get even wetter at the cocky smirk she gave you before doubling her efforts. 

With each stroke of her fingers you felt your walls tighten around her again. She was pushing you embarrassingly close to your second orgasm already. Having fucked you throuch your first, only barely slowing down before picking up a brutal pace. You haven’t even gotten a chance to catch your breath. Tears even began to form in your eyes at the growing feeling of overstimulation, but you didn’t tell her to stop. Not when she was begging for you to cum for her again, not when she was groaning in your ear about how much she loved feeling you cum on her fingers. And when she bit down on the sensitive part between your neck and shoulder paired with a rough stroke of her fingers inside you, you felt yourself fall over that edge again with a long, desperate whine. 

Finally, JJ slowed her movements until she completely stopped and slid her fingers out of you. You watched with hooded eyes as she sat up, straddled your waist, and licked her fingers clean with a groan. 

Her hips began to rock steadily now against your own as she sat atop you. With a satisfied smile she looked down at you and simply said “we should do date mornings more often.” 

Yeah, you were definitely on board with that.

taglist: @leecravesdeath @daddy-jareau @olliethedonut @zoomdeathknight @desperate-gay

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Blown Away (S.R.)

Summary: Virgin!Spencer gets an enthusiastic thank you from his partner. Request: giving Spencer his very first bj and he makes the most lovely noises Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)  Content Warning: Oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, no plot Word Count: 765

MASTERLIST

Spencer doesn’t know how, but he didn’t expect this.

You hadn’t exactly been shy about your interest in exploring new forms of intimacy, but it isn’t until his pants are down and you’re on your knees that he realizes what you’d meant when you said you wanted to thank him.

He’s not going to complain, though. Especially not when your hands feel so soft as they smooth over his thighs. The ambient air in the room almost felt cold compared to your hot breath puffing through his boxers.

Spencer surprises himself with the sound of his voice, broken and pitchy as he gasps, “Please.”

He’s not even sure what he’s asking for, but you know.

And you’re more than happy to give it to him.

You take your time as you work at removing the last piece of clothing between you and your goal. Each inch of progression elicits a breathy sound from the boy wonder seated in front of you.

He’s got a white-knuckled grip on the couch that still seems tenuous—like he’s just waiting for permission to abandon the pleather to hold you, instead.

You don’t say anything, though. Your mouth is a little busy pressing not-so-innocent kisses along his inner thigh.

Spencer can’t wait for permission, it seems. As soon as you release a shaky exhale against heated skin, his hands shoot forward and tangle in your hair.

With a wicked simper, you come closer so that your lips brush against the sensitive tip when you speak.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

Spencer, with his eyes wound tightly shut, still manages to nod.

“Yes,” he whines, “yes, it feels so…”

His thought is interrupted by the feeling of your tongue running up the length of him.

“Fuck!” he squeaks, his voice crackling and falling while his hips begin bucking forward.

You still them with sharp nails dug into his hip. The sharp contrast of pleasure and pain makes his whole body shudder.

The twisted side of you wonders if you can manage to make him finish without ever even putting him in your mouth, but the merciful side urges you not to try.

After all, he had been a good boy, and he deserves a reward.

That’s why you don’t prolong his suffering any longer. Instead, you slide your mouth over his cock and revel in the response. The soft sound of muffled whimpers as he bites hard on his lip, the desperate gasps for air, the creaking of the couch as he squirms in place.

“Oh, God,” he cries when your tongue makes gentle motions along sculpted veins. “Fuck.”

The words, however vulgar, sound so sweet when he says them. They motivate you to continue. With each upward motion, you feel him try to follow you. His hands clumsily try to hold you down while what’s left of his brain knows it’s counterproductive.

He is just so lost; lost in you and the comfort you provide. He is drowning in the warm wetness of a devilish tongue that dips to gather the droplet that forms at the tip.

“I-I can’t,” he huffs as his stomach begins to tense in waves.

But oh, you know he can.

“I can’t—I’m so close,” he admits begrudgingly.

You can tell he doesn’t want it to end because as soon as he opens his eyes to see the way you’re managing to smile with your mouth full of him, he shuts them again.

“Fuck!” he shouts while he tugs at your hair, “I-I’m gonna…!”

He expects you to accept his invitation to pull away.

He definitely doesn’t expect you to take him in even further.

His eyes shoot open when your lips manage to touch the base of him. The most indulgent, sinful kind of kiss where he can feel your throat clutch at him like your own debauched beg.

Spencer manages to keep his eyes open, to watch as choke yourself for his pleasure.

The end comes, too quickly, so beautifully. Each wave of pleasure pulses against your tongue and warms your throat. For a moment, you accept his offering instead of air your lungs desperately crave.

With a similarly sudden action, he pulls you clean off him with a final whimper.

As you collect your bearings and your breath, Spencer continues to stare at you with his pants down and pure wonder in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he says while struggling to catch his breath.

“No,” you laugh, “Thank you!”

An exhausted laugh sputters from his lips while he wonders what he could have done to ever deserve you.

He’s not going to complain, though.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien

Thank you for reading!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees | Pt. 29

Summary: Spencer attends a party. The BAU comes to visit. A/N: One chapter remains. Thank you for the patience and support. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Hospitals, descriptions of injuries, persistent vegetative state, discussions of the afterlife/religious sentiment Word Count: 5.1k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

Humans have long sought to capture the stars. Even before exploration into the great unknown, the night sky could be found reflected in scattered campfires and lanterns hung by calloused hands.

Even that night, the stars came to the earth in the shape of silver and copper string wrapped tightly around little LEDs. Penelope always did love her fairy lights.

Perhaps it was the cynic in me that used to find them somewhat useless. They weren’t bright enough to light the way, but they called attention to themselves enough to be distracting. But that night, as I stared through the open door to Rossi’s carefully manicured backyard, the little lights felt warmer than they used to.

The loosely secured strings swayed with the gentle breeze, creating the illusion of twinkling stars. A perfect, picturesque backdrop for the woman at the center of it all.

My Bunny’s back was turned to me, but I could see every part of her expression through the almost imperceptible tilt of her head.

My heart began pounding. A sense of general unease crept through me in a way that felt wrong. Just as the vision of stars began to blur, I heard the sudden clink of a glass against the counter beside me.

“Alright, you made it,” Emily announced. “It was tough, but you are finally in the clear.”

I turned to her with the hope of an explanation that didn’t follow. Instead, I was met with a strained smile and a tongue-in-cheek shake of her head.

She seemed so calm that it almost made me forget what I hadn’t been able to remember.

“What do you mean?” I said after another playfully tense moment of silence.

Emily responded with a jerk of her elbow. She bumped me gently, but I felt I would fall over from the force of her joy. It was clear in the shape of her smile and how her whole body gestured to the girl waiting for me under the arch of stars.

“You know!” she cheered, “It’s the big night! You’re here!”

My face immediately burned with blood and overwhelming anxiety. Despite having told everyone my plans far in advance, it still felt like it was all happening so suddenly—as if I’d skipped a few steps to getting here.

But then I looked up again. Through an open door, I saw her standing still against the vast night sky. I wondered how I’d survived so long with such a great distance between us.

“How are you feeling?” Emily interrupted the thought.

“Dreadful,” I answered before realizing I’d said the wrong word.

“Ecstatic,” I corrected, but that wasn’t right, either. Ultimately, with a heavy sigh, I admitted what must have been true:

“I… don’t know?”

“Wow. You don’t know something?” she teased.

Something about the comforting sound of her snickering allowed me to forget something I almost remembered.

“It’s crazy, right?” I joked back.

“Of course it is!” she cried. The dreamy tilt to her voice betrayed her casual front. Emily’s eyes fell to my feet and took their time slowly returning to meet my gaze. “It’s absolutely insane and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

I bit down on my lip. It was a little too hard, sparking the taste of iron on my tongue. I brought my fingers to my lips, but Emily’s hand on my arm made me pause.

“I’m so proud of you, Spencer.”

I believed her. Her hand grew tighter, shaking me lightly and holding me in the moment.

“More than anyone I’ve ever known, you deserve this. You deserve to be…” she paused. She took in a deep breath with closed eyes before she laughed, “just… perfectly, impossibly, ridiculously happy.”

I joined her in the laughter. Together, we swayed to distant music with a haunting melody I’d definitely heard before.

I couldn’t remember the lyrics, but it hardly seemed important. Not while my Bunny was waiting for me.

My feet wouldn’t move just yet, though. They kept me in place until I admitted to my closest friend, “I just… I hope I deserve her.”

There was simply no one else I would trust to assure me in that moment—precisely because she responded to the concern with an ungrateful snort and a scoff.

“Probably not,” she muttered with a smirk, “but you should try, anyway.”

My pursed lips turned up in a smile. I turned away from Emily to find that my darling had finally spun around on her heels. Even through the hazy light of the moon and the stars, I saw how she called to me. My feet answered her call without needing any instruction.

“Go,” I heard Emily urge me with an eerie longing laced through the words, “Get your happily ever after.”

Each step felt torturously slow. I hadn’t wanted to spook the little lagomorph into running away, but the ring in my pocket weighed the same as a heavy heart reaching into the world and hoping to be held.

When I got close enough to touch her outstretched hand, I did. It took no persuasion for her to flow into my arms.

I held her; I pressed my face against her hair that smelled like memories. Memories of things that hadn’t happened yet.

It cut through the scent of gunpowder that must have been burned into my brain from years of tragedy that had led me here. So, too, did her laughter cut through the pain. She looked up at me with eyes bright enough to rival the moon.

“Bunny,” I said breathlessly. My fingers danced along the soft edges of her face as it made way for a smile.

“My Bunny,” I said again.

Her tongue broke out from the toothy grin.

“What’s up, doc?” she giggled.

I choked on whatever had meant to follow. It was simply too hard to swallow that feeling that we’d been here before—not just in this lifetime, but in an infinite sense.

Like the leaf reaching for the sun, the waves crashing against the shore, we had been here so many millions of times before. I felt her, the softness of her soul that wriggled in my arms. So new, so pure, so perfectly her.

“I feel like I’ve loved you forever,” I said.

She smiled. Her body swayed bashfully without moving away. Even that small movement robbed the breath from my lungs.

“Truly, I-I just…” I spoke anyway, “I love you.”

“You might’ve mentioned that once or twice,” she hummed.

“Have I?”

Her face scrunched up in false modesty before she answered, “I think so?”

The jovial tone of it all gave me hope that we would never grow tired of it. The simplicity and domesticity of it all—the constant reassurance that we would never again exist in a world where we risked being unloved.

I leaned forward to kiss her, but I didn’t. I stopped just short of her lips to whisper, “Would it surprise you if I told you that I still feel I haven’t told you enough?”

“No,” she whispered between soft kisses against bitten lips. She didn’t wince at the lingering taste of metal on my tongue. Instead, her hands pressed harder against the back of my neck.

“Say it again,” she begged.

“I love you, Bunny.”

The words barely made it out of my lips before being covered with hers again. The safety of her embrace seemed even more vast than usual. It was as if her warmth had finally transcended the most basic laws of physics to find me. To touch me at an atomic level—to hold me for the first time, in a way that two things are never supposed to be able to do.

There was no repulsion between charged electrons. In that moment, there was nothing between myself and the woman I’d loved enough to defy the universe.

“I’ll love you forever,” I told her with breathless urgency, “and I’m so sorry, Bunny, but I’m afraid you might have to suffer hearing about it forever.”

Her eyes flickered to mine with an almost silent understanding. Our faces burned like fire despite the chill in the air.

“Forever, huh?” she said with a contagious grin.

“For as long as you’ll have me,” I tried to tease.

But the rabbit was already out of the hat. She knew what was coming and I was struggling not to give it to her.

“Ask me already,” she pleaded with the quietest voice she could muster.

I needed no persuasion. I finally fell to my knee before her the way I’d dreamed of since the first time I held her. Trembling hands dug the velvet box from my pocket and opened it without any hesitation.

I looked up at her, my starlight studded universe. I saw the future in her eyes, that storied chance at finding something that I’d given up long ago.

I saw so much hope in her. I saw home in her.

“Bunny…” I choked, “Will you marry me?”

Time froze, but tears still flowed from her eyes. She held one hand against her heart and rested the other on my shoulder.

It was a perfect moment in a perfect night. All I needed was one night, one moment of peace. For once in my life, a love unmarred by tragedy.

But when her mouth opened with a shaky breath, the world seemed to crack beneath the weight of my hubris.

“No.”

No, she said. The lights began to flicker and burst.

No, she would not have me, and I was a fool to think I would ever be allowed.

This wasn’t real.

The vision of her sparked and shifted to a gruesome scene. The thing I’d been running from this whole time.

“No, no no,” she cried, blood stained but still reaching for me.

The deafening rumble of the earth did nothing to mask the sound of her screams when the ground finally ripped apart between our feet. A small, outstretched hand could have never made it across such a cruel distance.

She never could’ve managed to pull me from the place I’d always known. Yet when she called for me, I would’ve forsaken every promise I’d ever made if it meant holding her one more time.

“Don’t leave me, Spencer, please!”

In one final, desperate attempt, I reached for her hand. I almost felt her, almost held her to inevitably pull her down to Hades with me.

But then, I remembered.

It wasn’t meant to be.

I wonder, does Persephone mourn the dead?

Does she hate us foolish mortals for treating her home like a curse? Is that lack of appreciation for Hades the source of her wrath?

Does she pity us when we are turned to dust, reclaimed by the unforgiving hand that keeps her prisoner on earth?

Does she mourn us, or is she just jealous? I wondered about the gods in an attempt to romanticize the horror.

But I was not in the mood for poetry. It hardly seemed appropriate.

The waiting room was cold and sterile, and I was wearing a near-stranger’s clothes. The carefully placed glitter on my cheeks was streaked with an excess of saltwater and rubbing alcohol that still hadn’t masked the smell of death.

I couldn’t tell you how long I sat there, staring silently at a crack in the moulding before a nurse handed me a plastic bag filled with bloody clothes.

There is a point in grief where you become acutely aware of how cliche it really is. That crystalizing moment of awareness that it’s happened, and you can’t take it back. You are living through the worst moment of your life; your worst nightmares have become real and they’re happening. Hellfire comes through fluorescent lights and tired stares from nurses that don’t know why you’re there.

My hands, almost alien, grip the contents like I might find a smoking gun between the fabric. Tight knuckles turn to a full-bodied hold around crinkling plastic.

I accepted the sharp feeling of something digging against my ribs for a few moments too long before I moved. The pain was hardly noticed and almost appreciated because at least it assured me that I was still there, still waiting.

Once I managed to sit up, I contemplated whether Spencer would want me to go through his things. I tried to justify the desire by convincing myself I’d only been looking for some clue as to why someone would do any of this.

I didn’t find a clue.

Instead, I found confirmation of the death of my happy ending. A small velvet box tucked neatly away and waiting the same as I was.

As my lungs burned and my stomach churned, I tried not to hope for another life.  Because I knew, I knew how lucky I was to have ever met him at all.

But in one of the many millions of universes, I knew one existed where nothing horrible happened. A beautiful starlit night with a quiet question blubbered through laughter and tears—a universe where he tried to ask me, but I’d already answered before he could finish the question.

I felt the answer like a fire in my chest.

Until…

I stopped the thought with a shuddered breath soon followed by a broken sob.

Yes. Forever and ever until the stars go out.

But I couldn’t see any stars from the waiting room.

“Hey.”

The familiar voice broke me from my wallowing. I dropped the box back into the bag of bloody clothes and watched as the whole thing toppled to the ground in front of me.

Derek stood still. He watched silently for a moment as I didn’t even bother to reach for it.

His footsteps were barely perceptible until I saw his shoes in my peripherals. I watched his hand reach forward and pick up the bag with enough delicacy that the plastic barely wrinkled.

His ability to stay so calm despite what had happened made me too angry to look at him.

“Is he dead?” I asked. My voice was dry and cold like the winter wind.

As he sat beside me, I saw a brief tension in blanched knuckles.

“Nah…” he said, softly and warmly, “you can’t get rid of him that easy.”

I didn’t respond. I stared down at the empty space where his belongings had been. Bile rose in my throat.

Derek’s hand draped over mine without a second thought. He kept an even pressure even as my hand balled into a fist beneath him.

“How are you doing this?” I croaked. I tried not to sound as angry as I was.

“How am I doing what?”

“You…” My lungs shrunk around the word. “You all seem like you’re handling this so well, and I don’t…. understand how.”

To his credit, he paused. A brief shock appeared and faded, only to be replaced with a solemn chuckle. Breathless at first, but it grew and carried a lightness that filled the room.

“I’ve known Reid for a long time,” he said, “and in that time, I’ve seen that boy in there die enough times to kill a damn cat.”

The corner of my lip twitched with an attempt to smile. I swallowed the impulse out of shame.

Derek didn’t try to stop me. He did smile, though. A gentle, reassuring curve that betrayed the red rimmed color of his eyes.

“But he comes back every time,” he said, “Can’t keep him away.”

I couldn’t stop it that time. My mouth broke apart with a heavy breath that almost sounded pleased but still tasted bitter.

“You know, I’m pretty sure whatever it is waiting on the other side is more tired of him than we are,” Derek continued.

His words started to slur together. His free hand raised to cover his mouth. Whether it was to hide the laughter or the vulnerability bleeding through the facade, I couldn’t be sure. Either way, I was grateful to see him be human.

“I bet he shows up with all sorts of questions,” he accused, “and, of course, they don’t know the answers to’em, so they just… send him right on back to us.”

The impossible came swiftly and like a punch to the gut. A laugh sputtered from my lips as I recounted each silly word said about a man who would’ve balked at the teasing.

I could feel his offense; see his soured pout as he tried and failed to defend his inquisitive nature.

He’d never needed to do that. We’d always loved him exactly the way he was.

The word ‘was’ fell heavy on my heart.

The way he is, I corrected myself.

Immediately, rage overtook any laughter and poured like a hurricane over my face.

“I’m not tired of him at all,” I blubbered incoherently. “I want him back.”

Whatever had come to his mind was never realized. Derek’s light snuffed itself out. The resulting smoke fogged whatever hope might have been visible.

“I know, Bunny,” he whispered, “Me too.”

Hours passed before we spoke again. I wondered if I’d managed to fall asleep, if the rest of the night actually played out the way it did or if I’d simply conjured a world in which he wasn’t gone.

But the doctors came, with good and bad news.

“He’s stable,” they said, “But he’s not awake.”

There was no mention of the word ‘yet.’

Yet, there I was, clinging to hope on the River Styx.

The threshold to his room felt like an insurmountable journey. I could hear the strong winds and warnings, the persistent rhythmic screams of machines.

Derek took my hand, but did not step forward. Rather, he treated the grip like the world’s gentlest prod. He urged me forward, and I stumbled through the door.

I didn’t look back.

“I’ll be right outside,” Derek said as my fingers slipped from his own. “Take all the time you need.”

The first steps forward were easier than those that followed. The closer I got to the bed, the less recognizable he became. His eyes were closed, almost peaceful if not for the ventilator strapped to his chin and the IV tubing falling around him like an outline. I didn’t dare try to look at the other side of him. Even from my peripheral, I could see the excess of skin where there used to be soft curls. The rest of it was matted and brittle and reeked of alcohol.

He probably found the scent comforting. But for me, it served as nothing but a reminder of the operating room.

My legs began to shake from the weight of my heart as it fell. Tentatively, I reached out to hold what remained. I spun tired strands around my fingers and let them fall into place once more.

“Oh, Spencer…” I whispered. I tried to smile but my words bubbled with grief, “You’ve really gotten yourself into a mess this time, haven’t you?”

I tried to stay upright, tried to stay positive and cheerful—I tried, so hard, not to let his closed eyes see me fall apart.

I glanced up and saw red cracks held together with black stitches and my stomach lurched. I swallowed rising bile with a gasp.

“I always knew you had a hard head, but…” I laughed.

Because it was funny, wasn’t it? Derek had been right, hadn’t he? The Gods had sent him back. He had come back to me.

But not close enough.

“I don’t know if there’s any truth to the idea that coma patients can hear what’s happening, but if there is…” I choked. I reached for his hand but found too many machines to hold it properly.

I paused before wrapping whatever I could around a single unencumbered pinky. I squeezed, not too tight, and I begged, “Please, I just really need you to wake up.”

There was no reply.

“Please,” I repeated to no avail.

My eyes slammed shut and tears dripped from chin to chest. The warm water on already flushed skin felt like fire burning through me. More words rushed out, covered with spit and crackling and roaring like a forest fire from within.

“I need you to wake up, Spencer, because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you. I don’t know—!”

When my eyes opened, I saw how his finger reddened within my grip. I loosened it, watching as the color faded back to normal but the pinky fell just as limp.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said. “And I know that isn’t fair, and I’m sorry, I just…”

I brought myself as close as I could. My body strained, reaching over medical equipment and metal bars to try and touch my lips to the unscathed side of his face.

But it was just a little too far. So I stayed there, lips hovering over his skin.

Breath brushed past his face as I whispered, “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

The steady, subtle beat of his heart echoed in the room like an answer.

I leaned back once more, releasing his hand and recognizing his bare ring finger that matched my own.

I smiled as I wondered whether a proposal of marriage would be enough to wake him. It felt wrong but reasonable under the circumstances. What felt worse was knowing that I’d known what his answer would be, but he hadn’t been able to hear mine.

“I have to admit something, but… don’t be mad at me, okay?” I said like he would answer. “I went through your things while I was waiting. I wasn’t trying to snoop, I just…”

There was no reply.

“I’m sorry your plan got ruined,” I said with the utmost sincerity, “But if you’d asked me, I…”

Excitement swelled for approximately half a second before it was gone with the sight of still-closed eyes.

I didn’t want him to hear it like this.

“You have to wake up,” I pleaded, instead. “So I can give you my answer.”

With a more urgent attempt, I flung myself over the barricade of his bed and managed to touch lips to his cheek. It still felt soft and warm despite the bitter taste.

“I love you,” I promised for the millionth time, “I’ll love you until the stars stop.”

For a moment, I swore I heard the pitch shift in the rhythmic tone. But when I looked up at the machine, nothing had changed.

There was no reply.

The heaviness set in before long. I made myself a home in the sterile chair beside his bed. I said nothing. Together, we sat in the silence until I was sure that Derek must have left. I stayed through the shifts and watched the routines of each person who tended carefully to the one I loved.

I stayed until someone came and told me it was time to go. I made my way to the door to leave with the rest of the people who’d waited with their friends and family as long as they were allowed.

Derek had stayed, too. He stayed until my hand returned to his and we walked out together. Together, we set out into a world in which Spencer wasn’t waiting for us.

I looked back. I saw Spencer and focused puffy, teary eyes on the image in case it was the last.

Through the haze of a cruel combination of fear and hope, I swear I saw his pinky twitch.

Perhaps a beg for me not to go. Perhaps return of a promise that the stars had not yet stopped. Perhaps it was nothing but a foolish grief riddled hope.

But I let myself believe that it was his reply.

Even the void was worse without her.

I felt my Bunny’s absence the same way that humans hear silence. The discomfort borne from the recognition that what was, is no longer. That shrill sound of tortured neurons trying to find something to justify their existence.

I couldn’t see anything but the endless nothing. I felt only pain for which there was little relief unless I could feel her, instead. Until I heard the soft sound of her voice. Like a distant whisper, broken by a grief I knew all too well.

It was a different hurt. A powerlessness I’d never known. An all-consuming need to end her suffering but being unable to find her amongst the echoes of myself.

And then she was gone again.

And there I remained, a lost planet seeking a star so brilliantly unlike the others. A useless, lifeless, wandering hunk of rock that was doomed to decay and fall unremembered into eternal darkness unless I could tether myself to something greater than I could ever be.

There was no way to measure how long I would be trapped there, locked between abject apathy and a soul-crushing hope.

They say it’s the hope that kills you, but it’s not. It’s the waiting. It’s the slow but sure erosion of the tides against a cracking cliffside. With enough time, water could even wear down a diamond.

Of course, the planet it was on would likely succumb to a supernova before it was given the proper chance.

I had been here before. It felt different this time. Somehow more permanent. Somehow more painful.

But even in my bleakest moments, I was reminded of just how many stars I’d encountered in an otherwise pitiful 40 years.

The fleeting sound of a mother’s voice as she recounted each conversation with her boys. The subtle scent of cigar smoke hanging on vintage cloth alongside the familiar tunes of a well-worn vinyl. The calming lull of the Simmons’ Stories. 

Sometimes, I could hear my friends with an eerie clarity. I would doubt their existence if they hadn’t been so perfectly aligned with who I knew them to be.

“Wow,” Emily said with a sharp inhale. “It’s a little unsettling to realize just how much of the conversation he kept up, isn’t it?”

She was comforted quickly by the soothing timbre of Tara’s snark.

“Don’t worry, Emily. You talk plenty on your own.”

A sarcastically shocked gasp rung through the air.

“You’re gonna let her talk to me like that, Reid? After all we’ve been through?”

I wished more than anything she could see me smile in reply. I wanted to join in, to share in the jest and the joy they graciously gave to a hopeless man.

I heard their attempts at comfort. But all they heard was silence.

“It was worth a try,” she said sadly.

I thanked her the only way I could. By hanging on another day. By suffering through the waiting.

It got easier. Easier, but worse.

Because I was trapped inside my own head, plagued by the fear of a running clock. The understanding that they would not be able to grieve forever. One day, the waiting for me would be too much to ask.

That was never clearer to me than the day my attention was awoken by the very angry squeaking of a certain Penelope Garcia.

“Bunny told me what you said about us and— and I’m very mad at you!”

A distant memory occurred to me. A self-pitying insecurity that my friends would forget me easily.

I hadn’t meant it, I would’ve said.

She called my bluff.

“It’s not fair that you think you know everything, including how we feel,” she cried, lightly at first only to be followed by a long silence.

“You never even asked,” she choked.

The pain wrecking my body intensified. The thudding in my chest felt like an earthquake threatening to cave in rattling ribs. My hands burned with the need to touch her. Anything to apologize for my selfishness. Anything to stop that sentiment from being the last thing she heard of me.

Anything to beg her not to give up on me yet.

But Penelope, like all of us, was accustomed to the void. She took a bold step into the nothing. Not just out of love, but out of spite for the mere notion that her love had gone unnoticed. 

“A-And you know what, Reid? You’re wrong!”

A rare but always thrilling challenge. I would’ve scoffed but for the tears that would’ve drowned out the sound.

“I know that’s hard for you to hear, but it’s true,” she continued. Fun loving words soured, bleeding bitterness and rage for the circumstances. “If you really believe that any of us wouldn’t forever carry around a hole in our hearts where you used to be…”

The words hit like fists and knives and bullets. I cursed my perfect recall as it failed. It ignored my desire to see each of their smiling faces, showing me only the familiar sight of them hunched over in silent prayer. To fate, to God, to whatever they could find. Their stained shirt cuffs as they struggled in vain to unredden their hands and sclera.

“You’re not just wrong, Reid,” she laughed between sobs, “You’re just being flat out dumb.”

Suddenly, a new sound ripped through the void. A loud, shrill beeping out of rhythm. A spiking heartrate as even the void grew too small to hold in the hurt.

“I’m sorry!” Penelope immediately cried.

Warm, comforting hands cradling freezing cheeks. A gentle shushing, a quiet apology from tear-soaked hands.

“You’re not dumb. I didn’t mean it,” she insisted, “I’m just—I’m very upset with you, okay? It’s just one of our little jokey spats. That’s all.”

My heart quieted along with her voice.

“We love you a lot. It’s not just her, although it is her more than most.”

‘I know,’ I tried to say.

“We all love you so much.”

‘I know. I’m sorry. I know.’

I had felt her just enough to notice when she pulled away. Still, her words came through. Clear and commanding, as she always was.

“And I don’t regret yelling at you because I needed you to hear that. One genius to another.”

Suddenly, another feeling flooded through me. The feeling of soft lips pressed against my cheek, mixing my memories of the… dozens of days spent like this. All the different visits, the different lips that warmed me in my sleep.

How long had I been here?

Was my Bunny still waiting?

Like an answer, Penelope chuckled as fingers fiddled with poorly cared for curls.

“Now wake up soon so I can plan a very cute garden themed wedding, okay?” she snickered. “It’ll have so many pumpkins. I promise.”

And with that small seedling of hope, the mere mention of my Bunny, Penelope was gone, and I remained.

Whatever feeling I had from my body began to itch with the need to escape.

I had to get out. I had to find her. Before it was too late.

(Tell me what you thought of this chapter here!)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

a GORGEOUS anon got us the spencer overhears you and hotch fucking fic

ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, THANK YOU!

I can now confirm it is from the wonderful @beelmons collabed w/ @ihavemanyhusbands ! It is titled “The Mistakes of a Lonely Heart.” If you read it, please be sure to drop a like, reblog, or some nice words to the lovely writer(s).

& Thank you for everyone who helped us find the right people to thank!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Who doesn’t love a fun little NYE fic ❤️🍾

Let’s Start the New Year Right

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

18+ minors DNI

desc: Spencer and reader get invited to a chill, casual NYE party. But things heat up right at the stroke of midnight.

cw: food mention, Spencer is a little awkward in the beginning, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex (in a bathroom)... Let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1667

...

“I can’t go dressed like this? People will laugh at me.” 

Spencer looks himself over in the mirror for the tenth time, running a hand down his sweatshirt. It was New Years Eve and you two weren’t doing anything too crazy, just spending time at your friend Andies house with a few others. She’d just bought said house and was desperate for you and the rest of your friends to see it. And what better time than New Year's Eve?

“They will not laugh at you. Andie said she wanted everyone to be casual and casual means jeans and sweatshirts,” you called from inside your closet. “And we’ll be out by the fire. You’ll be more comfortable like this. Trust me.” 

You peak around the corner to his portion of the closet, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looks cute, more dressed down than you usually see him. In fact, this is the most you’ve seen him in the past three weeks. Serial killers don’t take breaks, even during the holidays. So off he and the team went to bum-fuck-nowhere Alabama and missed Christmas.

It was disappointing to say the least. 

But it was his job, something he warned you of previously. However, it didn’t mean him missing important days didn’t hurt. But you sucked it up and smiled through it. Plus, it didn’t matter. He was home and he was safe. 

“I do trust you. But I don’t want to be underdressed.” He sighs moving to grab his tennis shoes, sitting on the little poof seat you insisted on buying. (And that he secretly loved. Not that he’d admit it.) 

You pull your hair out of the back of your sweatshirt, smoothing it down and grabbing a warm hat. “You won’t be. This isn’t like Rossi’s where we dress to the nines and get drunk on champagne.” 

You see him grin as he ties his shoes, a small blush rising on his ears. 

“Yeah he was sad we were coming this year. I, however, am excited we aren’t going. I have spent more than enough time with all of them. They’ll survive without me for a night.” 

You giggle, walking towards him and hugging him from behind. “Yes, baby, your friends will survive without you. You’re all mine tonight.” You kiss his cheek before straightening and checking your phone, “we should head out, sweetheart. Andie will be pissed if we’re late.” 

The drive to Andies was short, filled with Spencer's long winded explanation about why you and he bought your house at the ‘most perfect time’. You loved listening to him ramble, even if half the time he spoke gibberish. You were thankful you could google some of the super big words he used. 

The second you’re parked outside the house, big, beautiful and full of holiday cheer, you see Spencer tense. You’d think after six years together, he’d be more calm around your friends. They helped him with the proposal after all and he still has the group chat. The group chat where they send him memes he doesn’t understand. However, no matter the time, he isn’t the most comfortable with anyone but you. And more so in your bedroom. 

You find it… endearing to say the least. 

You reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it three times i am here. “Ready?” 

He squeezes back and nods, “I am… I think.” 

It’s all you need before getting out and never once letting go of Spencer’s hand. 

Andie stands at the door, smile on her face, two glasses of punch in her hands. “There is my best friend and her hot as fuck fiance!”

Spencer practically cringes at her words, never being one who could handle a compliment. Even if he was the most beautiful human you’ve ever seen. 

“Hi! Sorry we’re late. We had a late night. You know how it is, serial killers killing during the holidays. Dr. Reid forever having to save the day.” You pat his chest, looking up at him fondly. 

He loves when you look at him like that, eyes so wide, filled to the brim with love. He kisses your head and 

Andie fake gags, handing you the drinks in her hand. “Yes, yes. Get inside before we let the kitten out and before the cold air comes in.” 

You sip it, the vodka making your chest feel warm. Spencer looks down at the cup before looking back at you, “I can’t drink. Want this?” You nod, taking it and pouring it into your cup. “A-andie do you have water? Bottled? I don’t like sink water and fridge water tastes funny so bottled is better. Even though it’s not good for the environment.

“But it’s not really us that needs to worry. It’s the famous people who really pollute the envi-” 

Andie cuts him off, “Spencie baby, you don’t have to explain this to me. I have plenty of bottled water. Want a cold one or a room temp one?” 

Spencer curls his lips over his teeth, a small blush creeping up his neck, “cold is fine. Thank you, Andie.” 

“You’re welcome sweet thing.” She digs in her fridge and finds the bottle, handing it to him. “Now, time for a tour.” 

… 

It takes a good few minutes for her to show you both around the house, making sure she explains every single detail even down to the persian rug her current boyfriend bought her when he went to visit his mother. 

Spencer, of course, went on and on about this, that and the third. It was cute. 

But soon you were in Spencer's lap, staying warm by a fire and roasting a marshmallow while Spencer got the chocolate and graham crackers ready. You were two drinks and three shots in, happily buzzed but not even close to drunk. 

“You are so hot when you open chocolate. S’anyone ever told you that?” You say it quietly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of anyone. 

He smirks, using the top graham cracker to slide the toasted marshmallow off of the stick and smoosh it between the other cracker and chocolate. “No one has ever told me that. But there is a first for everything.” 

He takes the first bite before handing you the rest. You pout a little and he laughs. “You ate my smore! Not fair.” 

He kisses you, lips brushing over yours gently, “I will make you another when you finish that one.” “What happened to my shy boy? Getting bossy out here.” You smirk, knowing you’re pushing his buttons.

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night when I fucked you into the mattress.” He says right in your ear, nipping at it slightly. 

You shiver, squirming in his lap. “You-you can’t do this to me. We can’t fuck here.” 

He kisses your temple, “there are four bathrooms here. We totally could. They all lock, I made sure.” 

Andie claps her hands, “ten minutes till midnight!” 

Spencer grips your thigh, “what a way to ring in the new year? Me buried inside you.” 

You cross your legs, trying anything to get some friction. 

“They’ll notice, Spence.” You look around, no one is paying attention to you, most of them sucking face with their dates.

“Oh baby, they won’t notice.” 

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are on the bathroom floor, and Spencer's face buried in your cunt. You bite your fist to quiet the moan. For some reason, it was extremely hot getting eaten out with the possibility of someone hearing you. But that didn’t mean you wanted to get caught. 

“So pretty bunny.” He purrs from below you. He pushes two fingers inside you, easily opening you up. He knows your body better than you do, making mental notes of every little moan, gasp, and sigh that leaves your lips. Because of this it isn’t long before he has you falling over the edge, somehow keeping your moans quiet.

“Time,” He asks as he stands, towering over you.

You check your phone with shaky fingers, “11… 11:50” 

Spencer pulls at his belt with fervor, pushing his pants down till they pool at his ankles. “Gotta keep you quiet for another ten minutes.” 

His lips are on yours, swallowing your moans as he pushes all the way inside you. He doesn’t waste time, his hips snapping against yours. His lips travel from your lips and down your neck, moving your sweatshirt to the side to suck hickies where no one can see them. 

‘Just for me,’ he’d always say. ‘Only for me.’ 

“Spencer, please.” How you manage to whisper it is beyond you. But it doesn’t matter with the way he’s moving. 

“Shh… I’ve got you, bunny.” He snaps his hips faster. 

Your second orgasm comes right at 11:58. And it isn’t long before you can hear your friends counting down. 

Ten.

“Fuck bunny. Feel so good.” 

Nine

“S-spencer…” 

Eight

His hand covers your mouth, muffling your growing moans. 

Seven 

“I know you don’t want to get caught.” 

Six 

“‘Specially not so close to midnight. Right?” 

Five 

You shake your head no. Eyes staying locked with his.

Four

A wicked smirk crosses his lips, his confidence growing. 

Three

“S’what I thought.” 

Two 

His thrust grow more and more sloppy and before long his head falls into your shoulder and his orgasm rips through him, spilling inside you. 

One

His kiss is hard, hands on the sides of your face while he makes out with you, riding out the rest of his orgasm. He’s panting as he pulls back, Spencer's forehead resting on yours. 

“Happy New Years, sweet angel.”

...

I hope you enjoyed! This is my first fic in almost a year. Im nervous to say the least lmao. I love you all ❤️

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hello pomegranate!

looks like no one can really find it so .. i’m looking for a hotch x reader fic where whilst having sex, reader accidentally calls spencer, who jacks off to the sounds of hotch and reader.

if anyone knows what fic this one is, i’d really appreciate it 😅 thank you!!

The way everyone in the discord remembers the fic but can’t find it gives me hope… if anyone knows this fanfic (and whether it’s even still available), please let us know! I’d love to recognize an author that crafted something so memorable.

ANSWERED: “The Mistakes of a Lonely Heart” by @beelmons in a collab with @ihavemanyhusbands ! If you read it, please be sure to drop a like, reblog, or some kind words for our lovely writer(s) ❤️

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hai pom!!

was wondering if u had any recommendations for innocence or size kink fics for spencer?

thank u sm 💗💗

You'd have to be more specific with size kink because there are many different variations of that kink. As for innocence kink, I only really know of my own, because I don't like to read those stories (too many variables, lol). That being said, I do love to write them, so here are mine!

The Birds & The Bees (Series): Prof!Spencer, Virgin!Reader. Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

Big Bad Wolf (Part 1, Part 2): Spencer is overwhelmed by the apparent innocence of an elementary school teacher he meets on a case.

Cupid & Psyche: Reader and Spencer get kidnapped by a rather romantic matchmaking unsub who demands they perform for him.

I also have a WIP with an innocence kink called Hotel Coffee, about Unit Chief Spencer seeing a little bit of himself in the new young recruit. You'll have to stick around to read that one!

If you have any other ideas that would work for a blurb, I'd also be happy to add them to my list.

(Oops, I forgot to add Preciously Pure by the lovely @foxy-eva as another innocence kink fic)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Hi, I love TB & TB. I’m currently reading it in my kindle and I reached the part where Bunny receives oral from Spencer. I was just wondering if you imagined Bunny to be completely hairless or natural? (I’m not a minor dw) And I know this question is intimate so please just ignore it if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m just having a hard time trying to picture things and I wonder if Spencer likes a natural woman.

No worries—Bunny is like whatever you are like! A grown ass adult man shouldn’t care either way. If he does, he’s boring and has bad taste.

I hope you continue to enjoy the work! 🤗

I’ve been hoping to finish TB&TB up soon. I even wrote a few sentences the other day. Right now, multiple specialist appointments + work + physical therapy is kicking my ass. Miss you all and I can’t wait for CME S2!

[imagining-in-the-margins]

hiii! could you help me find more fics where spencer is obsessed with reader's breast? pleasee 🥺🩷

Hi friend! I unfortunately do not have any specific recommendations (I have very little time to read as of late).

With a request this broad, I would honestly go to Archive of Our Own and check out tags that are tagged with breasts/nipple play. They even have more specific ones than that! Ao3 is so great for things like that.

Sorry I couldn’t be more help! I know I haven’t personally written many fics focusing on breasts because they are so variable and xReader fics shouldn’t specify what their body looks like to that degree. But I’m positive someone has written some for your body type! I wish you luck ❤️

(If anyone has any recommendations—including your own fics—please share them below!)

[imagining-in-the-margins]

I knew I made a mistake looking at your WIPs TwT. Now Hotel Coffee is all I think about 😭

You and me both... I've honestly rewritten the outline for that one a million times because I could never make up my mind on what direction to take it. What about you? What did you imagine it would be like?

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Hii i have a question, i was wondering if you maybe knew what fic it is I can’t seem to find? It was about spencer and i’m not sure but i think it was a two part and its about his bartender girlfriend? And the team disapproves and she goes off on them and then had sex with him in an office i think ? Idk i’m sorry if this is not something i can ask, if not please completely ignore this!!! ALSO CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

You certainly can ask that here, because it’s my fic! 🤗 It’s called Schrödinger’s Relationship and you can find Part One of Two here. It was actually a request from my good friend @dreatine , who I always joke is the librarian of the Spencer Reid fandom. I swear she knows every fic!

(Also, thank you! 🥳)