#lalophilia

[inactive-luv]

im in love with spencers voice can you blurb something with this? im giving you nothing i know but i want to see what you do with this -🎱

dear beloved 🎱anon thank you for the surge of inspiration to write this in my fifth period class

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Talk to Me: 838 words (is this too long? i love it i’m not editing it)

cw: making out (is that direct smut? 16+ probably)

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Lazy Sundays with Spencer usually started, centered, and ended around kissing.

He loved feeling and kissing every inch of your body, savoring the taste of your skin and mouth—the flavor of your coffee on your tongue and the feel of his hands in your hair.

He worshiped it.

...

So there you were again, kissing Spencer Reid on his couch, the television show long forgotten when you climbed onto his lap. His hands were on your waist, instantly clutching your body, pulling you down with such force, softly grinding your body against his.

Occasionally your lips gently parted so you both could breathe, the scent of each other filling your lungs combined with the warmth of his and your bodies was getting you high. His body was hot, flushed bright red, and shaking softly underneath you.

When you parted again, he noticed your hesitance, the way you acted as if you were holding back, and when you leaned in again, he pulled back to ask you what was wrong, "Is this okay?" You bit your lip before whispering into his mouth, "Talk to me."

He swallowed the lump in his throat; his mouth turned dry when you asked for a request he didn't know how to complete. So he sat there long enough before he whispered back,

"A-about what?"

His voice croaked to your amusement, making you smile enough to where he chuckled. His voice was vibrating through his throat, making your hands shake slightly with your arms around his neck. You reveled in the feeling of the sound of his voice; you wanted more of it. All of it.

"Tell me something about this," her lips were back on his in an instant. "Kissing." You smiled through the kiss as you two collided teeth in your excitement and his still blank confusion.

"Like what?"

"Endorphins. Stress relief. Exercise."

Each sentence ending and beginning with a peck to his jaw, ear, and neck.

"You want me to talk to you about this?"

He stayed simple through his confusion, keeping a calm expression on his face before his Adam's apple bobbed again and the sight of him under you went straight to your core.

You nodded your head, pushing your lips onto his neck to let him speak. "Uh," he whispered while you kept working to make marks on his skin.

"Kissing increases dopamine levels in the b- brain." He moaned his last words when you bit softly on his earlobe before kissing back down on his neck. Your hands drifting from his hair to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning to move your lips down his red chest.

"Fuck Y/N." He groaned out, the vibrations rutting against your lips, drenching your panties on top of him. His voice was so deep and weak with you on top of him; it drove you nuts.

"Keep talking." You whispered into his ear, switching to the other side of his neck, remembering his fixation on symmetry. His hands scrunched your hair and rested on your ass. Both were squeezing gently, losing focus under your lips.

"They say that kissing uses 34 facial muscles and 112 postural muscles." He pauses to swallow his throat, "Unless you're sitting like this." With that sentence, he pulls you closer, grinding the perfect spot on your jeans, making you toss your head back and moan softly.

His eyes went wide, watching you slow yourself down before a smile crept on his face again. "This is turning you on." He whispered in a half questioning, half assertive, tone. You leaned back a little to look into his eyes.

Golden brown eyes were staring into yours with such lust and love, you inadvertently thrust yourself into his hips, a smiling whimper forming on his face. You stayed quiet in your slightly embarrassed expression, but he licked his lips in solving his questions and leaned back in to kiss you.

"Auralism means sexual arousal from sound, but if it's my voice, in particular, I think you could call it lalophilia."

His confidence grew in the combination of finding another thing to use in your sexual life and watching you come undone on top of him when he'd barely done anything.

"That sounds interesting," you whined out, putting your lips back on him for a moment before moving down his chest again. He groaned when you used your teeth softly.

"It's the orbicularis oris muscle that makes you pucker your lips."

He pulled you off with this sentence, grabbing your waist to keep you close but leaning his head, so you kept yours back. Your eyes met again; you batted your eyelashes towards him before moaning out in a minor tone, "Where's that?"

He licked his lips, taking one of his hands off your waist and bringing his fingers up to your mouth. You instinctively opened for him to put his fingers just inside, but instead, he lightly grazed his fingertips along your lip-line.

"Right here." He whispered out before crushing his lips with yours again.

...