#let the light in; penelope
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
rhapsodyandwoe · 2 months ago
Text
Speaking of Penelope Loremaker, I don't know if y'all remember her, but I'll definitely be adding her as an NPC/secondary/request sort of Muse over here.
Tumblr media
She's a Mephistopheles Tiefling, Guild Artisan, Lore Bard, and Eternal Designer to the Exalted Vampire Lord and Master Cazador Szarr. She was a gift to him from Raphael (the wonderful uncle that he is) to celebrate the Vampire Lord's pending Ascension (maybe if he gets in good with Daddy's friend, Daddy will let him have the crown).
She's Cazador's youngest spawn, spared from the cells and the scars so that she may forever decorate his gawdy ass Palace. She was close with Astarion.
If one of our threads/plots/etc ever involves needing to replace Astarion for the ritual, it's probably going to be Nelly. (sorry nelly, Cazador cares more about power than he does his drapes)
2 notes · View notes
secretsandcurtains · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Name: Penelope Lydia Loremaker Nicknames: Penny, Penny-Lye, Nelly, Lorie Background: Guild Artisan Race: Mephistopheles Tiefling Class: Bard, College of Lore Age: 43, born 1449 DR Height: 5'2" Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Demisexual Tags: Face/Headcanons, Interactions
Introduction: Penelope was a sweet girl, a bard with a particular talent with being able to set a stage, find the right balance and flow for a room. She was only a few generations removed from Mephistopheles, he being her great-great-great-great grandfather. And while she was raised in Faerun and not in Avernus, she was still well aware of her devilish heritage.
She was reminded of it all too well when her distant Uncle Raphael came to whisk her away from her home in Neverwinter to Baldur's Gate. Arriving there, she found she was being consigned to work as the personal and eternal interior decorator to Cazador Szarr. She didn't have much choice in the matter, but at the tender age of 23, she was optimistic enough to believe it wouldn't be such a bad life. Willingly becoming a spawn on threat of becoming that night's meal instead, she resigned herself to her new life.
And it wasn't really that bad for the first few years. Cazador adored her, or so she thought, giving her the best education, the best clothes, the best quarters... but she'd found out after a few more years that she was merely the moment's pleasure. Soon, his attention was drawn away from her for the next pretty face. Of course, being the youngest and the favored one, she was the least favorite among the other House Spawn, only finding a friend in Astarion, and even that friendship she questioned.
She was among the population of Baldur's Gate that was taken by the Nautiloid, and ended up tadpoled as well. Now, finding the influence of Cazador gone, the sun no longer harmful, and one of her siblings in the same situation, she has to find a way to survive in a world she's never been before.
1 note · View note
nereidprinc3ss · 7 months ago
Text
drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
3K notes · View notes
januaryembrs · 8 months ago
Text
YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
Tumblr media
Request: @avis-writeshq says -
HELLO HELLO jumping on your 2k celebration reqs because 2K OMG SO DESERVED ‼️🫶
may i perhaps request a spencer reid x fem!reader fic please 🥹 maybe him post prison w new reader and she follows him around everywhere because she’s just instantly enamoured to him 🤭
thank you so so much lovely and congrats again !!!
Description: thirteen years in the fbi and ten weeks in prison does a number on Spencer, only when he arrives back in the office he meets the sunshine rookie that seems rather taken with him.
word length: 2.6k (this really ran away from me)
warnings: post-prison Reid, slightest age gap, Spencer dealing with coming home from prison, gun shooting?
authors note: hozier’s new song 'Too Sweet' + post-prison reid is a need, not a want.
Tumblr media
He smelled her french vanilla perfume before he even knew she was there. But then again, it was all he could smell the minute she waltzed into the office with a tray of coffee, like someone had stuck a sweet dessert in the oven and baked it on full. 
“Good morning!” She chirped, winding an arm over his shoulder and setting down a take out cup and a little chocolate donut on his desk, “Pen said you like chocolate, and I mean who doesn’t like chocolate, right?” 
She was potent when she was so close to him, and in one single breath he caught a whiff of her shampoo, before she had flitted over to her side of the desk that sat opposite his, where Morgan once sat. Noticing his hesitance, mistaking it for discontent she paused, almost spilling her own beverage over the potted plant she kept by her keyboard, scrambling to set it on the surface.
“Y-you do like chocolate right? I mean they had strawberry too, I can switch yours with JJ’s, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind-” She splurged, and her face was much too worried considering it was a matter of a donut, particularly considering he was already eying up the way the thick chocolate was melting in the pastry bag.
“Chocolate is great, I love…” He held up the bag to read the label with squinting hazel hues, “Cocoa Caramel delight,”
He had never heard of it.
He had never even seen this brand, but he wanted to quell her nerves even in the slightest. The BAU didn’t have the funds for a new keyboard, let alone time to send her to the ER if she ended up spilling her coffee over her hand. 
She seemed convinced, and he offered her a small smile, not exactly his most enthusiastic, but then again he hadn’t been much of a morning person since he’d come out of prison. He liked quiet, he liked a moment to himself before Penelope called them into the round table for briefing. But she was sweet, too sweet perhaps for the dark nature of their job. 
He could already see it chewing up her perky disposition and spitting her right back out within a year. It happened to the best of them.
But she smiled back at him, a million watt grin that made him think maybe he was being a little cruel. She was still brand new, still trying to make friends and he remembered how hard he tried when it had been his first few weeks on the team. He turned his gaze away from her in shame, reading the way she’d written his name on the cup in a pink sharpie, framing it with two doodle hearts. 
She all but skipped away, sensing he didn’t feel like talking much anymore, and he heard Emily exclaiming she was ‘A caffeine angel sent from the heavens,’ as she handed her the drink. He watched her braided hair disappear down the hall as she bounced over to Penelope’s lair. 
He picked at the cocoa caramel delight with a kind of self loathing he was familiar with, the french vanilla still a saccharine sugar in his nose. 
-
She caught him again; though this time he felt her bristle past his arm, watching the bullets pierce the target paper with an accuracy that only came from fourteen years of practice. 
“Do you reckon you could teach me how to do that?” Her cadence was light and airy, and he had to stop himself from jumping, from slamming the butt of the gun into her nose on reaction, because he knew she meant well, even though she had no idea how damaged he was.
He was still out of sorts from having to look over his shoulder at every second of the day, and he was surprised he was holding it together so far. He supposed shooting the shit out of a target helped.
Because it was just her, looking at him with soft eyes and a smile that could start wars, and he knew she had no idea the effect she had on the walls he’d tried so hard to build in prison. 
She must have mistook his look for annoyance, because she was quick to fumble with her own loaded gun, taking a step back in retreat, worried that she crossed some line she didn’t know he’d drawn.
“Or I could get Luke to show me, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just am really a shit shot and I know that’s pretty useless in the field-” It wasn’t until he flicked the safety on and took a step to follow her did she look at him again hopefully. 
“No, I’d be more than happy to show you,” He cleared his throat, setting his pistol in its holster and stepping behind her as she lined herself up for the fake body meant to resemble an unsub, “We all have to start somewhere. Show me your form,” 
She raised her arms up in front of her, aiming for a few seconds for the spot in the centre of the chest cavity, her finger reaching up for the trigger. 
She shot once, her face hardened for the first time he’d ever seen, and they both watched the paper rip about half a foot down the unsub’s leg. 
“See, in my head it’s hitting dead centre and then by the time I shoot it’s wiggling all over the place,” She explained, scratching her neck and frowning at the paper body, “I don’t suppose unsubs are willing to stand still and wait while the rookie figures out her shot,”
“Your hips are perfect, wide stance means you get more stability against the ricochet,” She tried not to simper at his words, or the way he sidled up behind her, his hands coming up to her shoulders as if he’d known her for years, as if JJ hadn’t told her how much he hated other people’s germs, “It’s in your shoulders you’re losing balance, try relaxing a little,”
But she couldn’t not when he was breathing down her neck, rubbing those long fingers over her shoulder blades trying to get her to straighten out her posture, hoping he couldn’t feel the way her chest rattled with nerves. 
“Relax,” He reminded, trying not to chuckle when he felt her shake her arms out as a means of hiding the way her skin had warmed under his rough touch, “You know, my unit chief taught me how to shoot. I wasn’t at all good at it when I first started,”
“Oh really?” She asked, her breaths feather light as he reached around her and adjusted her grip on the gun, “H-he must have been a good teacher,”
“He was the best,” Spencer agreed, brushing off the fact she was all but putty beneath his hands, “Three steps for the perfect shot; front sight, trigger press, follow through. Always keep your head forward, always keep your dominant finger ready, and wait until you’ve shot to drop your stance,” 
She looked up at him in admiration, and her soft smile was back as his own musk of laundry detergent and chamomile soap encompassed her as his arms did. 
He brought one of those big hands to the back of her head, moving her with gentle ease to look back at the target, a slight chuckle in his voice as he spoke: “Focus, what’s step number one?”
“Front sight,” She echoed him, fixing her shoulders with determination as he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. Taking a deep breath, she murmured to herself under her breath the next step as her forefinger rested over the trigger. She pulled it after a moment of courage, and froze in spot as she watched it hit where the stomach would sit. 
Not a perfect shot, but certainly a lot better than she had been doing. 
Her eyes widened behind the thick protective glasses, and her hands became fists above her head as she squealed in delight. 
“Did you see that- did you see!” She yelled over the sound proof ear muffs they both wore, and he was quick to grab the gun out of her swinging arms, clicking the safety on for her before she could end up blowing a hole in the ceiling. 
“Very good, give it a few months you’ll be a natural,” He complimented with a smile as she clapped her hands in glee, buzzing on the spot as if she’d chugged five energy drinks or doubled up on her coffee for the day. 
He tried ignoring the way his chest warmed seeing her so happy because of him, especially when she looked at him like that. 
--
“You said you needed those files, Dr Reid,” She’d appeared again, like she always did, and he had barely enough time to glance up from the paper he was already inspecting before he was hit by the perfume again, and he looked up to see two bright eyes watching him hopefully. Her arms were piled high with easily a box full of folders he had asked Anderson to find for him, and he saw the way she strained slightly to keep them held tight. 
“Jesus! Let me help you,” She prayed he couldn’t feel the way her heart thumping against the manilla folders as he leaned over to take them out of her grasp, the way her eyes fell to his light smattering of facial hair as his lips were little more than a few inches from hers. Even when his hands brushed hers, and he seemed to realise she was staring, watching her scramble to look somewhere else other than his amused eyes, embarrassed he’d caught her, “Thankyou. And just call me Spencer,” 
“Thankyou,” She echoed, shaking her head with a girlish smile on her face, her cheeks warm with humiliation, “I mean you’re welcome, any time,” 
For the sake of her self preservation he waited until she turned around to smile to himself, pretending he didn’t see the way she muttered under her breath, or that she almost walked straight into the filing cabinet on her hasty exit out of the office. 
“Seems like you have a shadow,” Emily’s voice met him as he heard her heeled footsteps approach, and they both watched their newest team mate almost bump right into JJ as she kept her head down, stroking her hair nervously, “She was super excited to meet you when you were away, said she went to one of your guest lectures you did with Hotch a couple years ago,”
His brows shot into his hairline, something warm flourishing in his chest when he saw her peek back to see the two of them watching her, and she immediately darted for her seat for an excuse to turn her back to them. 
Spencer smiled again, running a hand through his curled locks as if he was trying to think of something else other than the joy that had over come his features. 
She certainly was charming, in an incredibly girlish way, and he wasn’t the only one who thought it. He hadn’t heard Penelope giggling so much since Morgan had left, nor did he miss the way Rossi and Emily watched her darting around in the field, chasing after her as if she needed one of those leashes people had for toddlers.
Or the way Luke had had to talk her out of bringing a stray cat back to the BAU just two days ago because ‘it looked sad and lonely’. 
She was only eight years his junior, and yet he felt like the job had made him too hard, too mature, too tough against a softness like hers.
Girls had never really been interested in him, at least not for him as Spencer Reid, not as SSA Dr Reid. He had the occasional fling, even Maeve in the grand scheme of things had been a budding romance at best, and just the thought of Cat Adams viper-like eyes had him shuddering. 
He barely wanted anything to do with women at the moment, at least that was what he’d told himself every night he’d been fighting for his damn life in prison. 
But it was almost too easy to feel this way about her, like he couldn’t drink in her sweet smell or even sweeter voice fast enough, or bathe in her gaze that melted like rich chocolate when he took a glance her way. 
He didn’t bring it up with her until they were the last few people filing out of the office. 
“I can drive you,” She chirped, almost dropping the contents of her bag everywhere as she rooted for her car keys, and before he could protest, because it was like all he could see now was how eager to be around him she was and he wasn’t too sure he could keep himself from opening pandora’s box, she jingled her keys, that of course had crochet bluebells hanging from them and all but danced past him into the elevator. “Come on, you can have shotgun,” 
“I’ll be the only passenger, doesn’t that mean I automatically have shotgun?” He asked, following behind her as she stood in the elevator with a beaming smile, her finger clicking the ground floor button a bunch of times even though it made no difference how fast the doors closed. 
“Well, yeah, but it’s going to be the best shotgun you’ve ever had. I’m talking you can be Miss Daisy and I’ll be your Morgan Freeman,” And as if her spirit was infectious, he shook his head with a hidden chuckle.
There was a minute of silence between the two as she played with a loose thread on her cardigan, and it was then he took the chance to ask her the question that had been burning on his lips all day. 
“You didn’t by any chance go to University of Pennsylvania, did you?” Spencer asked, noting the way her eyes fell to the floor and how she licked her lips nervously.
“Yeah,” She replied cautiously, fingers clenched tightly around her keyring, “I know it’s not Caltech, but it was pretty good-”
“Didn't you see my lecture with Hotch?” He asked, and his smile widened tenfold when her hands slapped over her cheeks that burned with horror, moving quickly up to cover her eyes, “Little birdy told me you were quite excited to meet me-”
“Oh, Emily,” She groaned, burying her face in her palms, avoiding his teasing expression like the plague, “I knew, I knew she was going to tell you, I’m surprised she didn’t tell JJ first, unless she did and our whole team know I was some crazy girl who liked the FBI agents so much she switched her major,” 
“You switched your major for me?” He asked incredulously and he only laughed harder, one of the first times since he’d come home, when she groaned louder, turning away from him entirely. 
“Shut up, I did not swap my major for you,” She bit back, and she finally met his gaze, her expression an embarrassed wince, “I just… liked the material. You were very compelling,”
“Did you have a poster of us?” Spencer wanted to stop teasing, knew he was being a little cruel, but how could he resist when she shrieked in between laughter, shoving his shoulder with mortification.
“No,”
“Did you kiss Hotch’s picture before bed like an obsessive fangirl?” 
She gestured to him vulgarly as they left the elevator and headed for the car park, and it made a huge difference to the usual adoration she watched him with, but maybe, he thought, it made him like her even more. 
“No more shotgun for you, you’re going in the trunk like an old rug,” She snapped, though he could tell she was still horrified by the way she avoided his delighted hazelnut gaze. 
“Like an old rug?” He feigned hurt, but when they sat in her car, she finally looked over at him with something vulnerable and yet affectionate, like he’d seen her for all she was worth. He reached over the console to squeeze her hand gently, not missing the way her palm clammed beneath his and she struggled for words, so he continued for her, “That’s really no way to talk to your idol, you know,” 
Spencer swore his chest felt lighter than it had in months watching her laugh like that.
5K notes · View notes
halfwayhearted · 1 month ago
Text
There Beneath — Spencer Reid.
Tumblr media
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: In which everyone but you forgot his 30th birthday.
Word Count: 875+
Disclaimer/s — Happy birthday to the nerd ever! ^_^ + sunshine!reader, fluff/comfort, and… yeah, beautiful!
A/N: Based off this request, ‘Hey pook! So spencer blurb or whatever and it’s based off the “you’re 29” “im 30” “we missed your birthday?” except reader didn’t. so back to his bday and maybe reader shows up at his apt with a thing of books she KNOWS he hasn’t read and tea and his favorite coffee and stuff. #fluff #ineedspencer #iloveu’! My layout messed up on the other one and I ended up deleting it! So.
Tumblr media
Blank stare. “No way… we missed your birthday?”
All Spencer could do was stare right back and offer a small, awkward smile, averting his gaze. They had. They all had. Except for, well, you.
You’ve had his birthday marked on your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you didn’t go all out for your best friend’s birthday. You spent half of September secretly and subtly finding out what Spencer Reid did throughout his… rare days at home. His answer every time was that he liked to read, play chess, go out for coffee, or watch his favorite show, ‘Doctor Who’. Okay! Okay, good.
So, with that being said, you did your utmost to grab all of the wrapped presents without fail. You did it, with a grunt and muttered curses, but you did it. Slamming your car door shut, you made your way up to his apartment. The familiar brown door coming into view made your heart quicken.
Stopping right in front of his place, you knocked with the front of your foot. You heard sounds of shuffling before his door swung open. Spencer’s expression shifting from confusion to surprise as he slowly said your name, his head tilting. “Hey… how are you? What are you doing here?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “It’s your birthday. Happy birthday!” A short pause. “Please grab your presents before they fall on the floor.”
With a small laugh, the brunette quickly moves to grab them. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the weight is lifted. Stepping back, he sets them on his table, politely inviting you inside his house.
“So, am I the first one? Or did Penelope beat me to it. Actually, wait, don’t even answer that.”
Something you can’t quite identify crosses his features, and you instantly know you’ve said something wrong. That’s when it hits you, “No.”
Spencer immediately shrugs. “It’s fine! I’m not... hurt by it or anything. They’re just busy.”
You could’ve hugged him right then, but you refrain. Instead, you slip your hand into your tote bag and pull out a ‘Birthday Boy’ pin. His expression drops, making you laugh. “Come on!”
He remains silent, simply staring at you.
“I’ll wear the birthday hat if you wear the pin.”
His shoulders slump in defeat, and he nods, his eyes widening slightly when you instantly move toward him. Your bottom lip sinks between your teeth, clipping the pin onto his sweater, making sure not to poke him in the process. “There! How’s that? Did I poke you?”
Spencer shakes his head, too flushed to speak.
Without acknowledging it, you pull out the hat, carefully sliding it over your head. With a giddy glance up at him, you ask, “Do I look silly?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“What!” You stammer, “I’m being serious! Do I?”
“You look beautiful. What’s in these?” Smooth.
“Your gifts—wait! Sit down first,” you insisted, watching how he does exactly that. You clasp your hands together in clear anticipation.
Spencer purses his lips, staring at the various wrapped boxes in front of him, unsure of which one to open first. It wasn’t that hard…
Just pick one.
Grabbing the one with light blue wrapping paper, he tenderly rips it open. His eyes widen slightly at the sight of different books—all first editions.
“How did you—” he trails off, “How?”
“How did I know? I remember you talking about it one day, so, I did some digging and I finally found them. Do you like them? Let me know.”
He traces a single finger down the spine, his smile broadening. “A lot. Thank you so much. Wow.”
Your smile grows even brighter at the sight of his widening. “Hugs afterward, keep opening!”
More of your gifts are unveiled; among them are two boxes of his favorite tea, his preferred coffee, and even a bag of sugar added in. Humorous.
This had truly made his entire day. Or, to be more precise, you had made his entire day.
Once everything was opened, he stands up and slides his hands over your waist, interlocking them behind your back while yours move to wrap loosely around his neck. “You liked everything?”
“I loved them, thank you. Really. Thank you.”
You hummed softly, “Happy birthday, Spencer.”
He says nothing but nestle his head deeper into the crook of your neck.
After a couple more minutes of comfortable silence, you quietly inquired, “Movie marathon?”
“Please. I’ll make tea, you can pick the movie.”
“It’s your birthday!” You frowned, pulling away.
“My birthday or not, you’re my guest. Choose.”
Your frown doesn’t even seem to linger at that, a smile threatening to break out on your face. You let out a huff and walk into his living room. With a glance back, you notice how much happier he seems compared to when you had first arrived.
You were certain that you’d do this for him every year. After picking the movie, he sat down beside you and set both your cups of tea on the table.
If he was being honest, he’d let you. And maybe one day, you wouldn’t just be his best friend. Not with your head resting on his shoulder, like this was just another casual evening spent together.
What’s the harm in making this, you, permanent?
Tumblr media
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.
DT(s) — @planetpedri ! ౨ৎ
2K notes · View notes
auroralwriting · 4 months ago
Note
spencer smut perhaps? he's all shy but the second your lips touch his he snaps?
guilty as sin
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader (18+)
you think spencer's too shy to do anything, until he gets a taste of you
word count: 2.7k
warnings: smut, dirty talk, p-in-v, wrap it before you tap it, sort of dom!spencer, multiple orgasms, spencer is whipped, season seven spencer is implied, soft and fluffy but also a smidgen kinky, spencer’s a gentleman, he’s still a nerd, begging, orgasm denial, he’s also a tease, light praise, it’s smut you get the gist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Oh, come on? You're seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing happened with Lila Archer?" Emily laughed as she sipped on her beer.
It was a chilly autumn night. Your team had just returned home from a case a few hours prior. You were still dressed in your work clothes, like the rest of our colleagues. Somehow, you were convinced to go to the bar before it got too late into the evening. A sort of celebration that you all had caught the killer so quick with only two casualties. That was rare. Emily had even convinced Hotch to join you all. Since meeting Beth, he'd began to grow out of his shell. It was nice to see him happy again.
The liquor in all of your systems was enough to allow the silly conversations to flow with ease. Seeing as Emily and you had not been on the team when the Lila Archer stalking case was worked on, you had a fair amount of questions.
"You were with Lila Archer, alone, for hours on end," Emily took a sip of her drink as she continued her mini-rant. "and you didn't bang her?"
Derek emitted a slight chuckle, "Well, she did make out with him in the pool."
"The pool? Spence, you dog!" You gasped, quickly following it up with a laugh.
Deep down, this conversation bothered you. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had the biggest crush on Spencer. Or it could have been the way JJ was staring at you, no doubt profiling you. She was the only one who knew of your feelings for the genius. Of course, she was nothing but comforting and supportive. JJ was trying to catch a read on if she should end this conversation before it really got to you.
"I- She initiated it," Spencer weakly defended. "I just, well, kissed her back." The whole table erupted in oohs and laughs.
You kept your longings locked from the man. Kept in faded color, lowercase, locked away inside some secret vault you kept in your heart. It was better this way.
"You don't have it in you to do anything more, my man." Derek slapped Spencer's back. His words, meant to be supportive, just plain were not. "A man of honor, truth, justice, pat-"
"All right, I think we've all had enough to drink tonight." Hotch cut off Derek's drunken ramble. "Let's all make sure to call cabs home."
You grabbed your belongings, just a jacket, purse, and scarf, and stood up along with the rest of your friends. Everyone bid each other goodnight, small hugs passed along. Reaching in your purse, you went to grab the twenty you'd left, just in case. Your purse, however, was seemingly empty, besides a lipstick and your wallet. "Oh, shit." You muttered, having no way to pay for a ride home.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Spencer asked, hearing your call of distress.
Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. "I don't have any cash to get home."
Spencer was quick to reply, "Oh, well why don't you just ride with me? Riding with another person is thirty to fifty percent more safe than being alone, especially while intoxicated. Uh, you can just spend the night, I know you live further away and I'm sure you're tired."
"Thanks, Spence. I'll pay you back," You offered as the two of you walked outside. You felt a chill run up your spine due to the cold, September air.
"It's no problem." Spencer nodded, reaching over to slightly tighten your scarf. The touch of his fingertips on your neck was enough to warm you up completely.
Penelope gave you one last squeeze as you hopped inside the cab with Spencer. The ride would only be fifteen minutes away from his apartment, which wasn't bad.
You stared out the window, watching as it fogged. You dragged your finger over the condensation, drawing yourself a little picture to keep occupied. Your eyes cast up on their own, deciding to focus on the reflection in the window. You were sure glad they did. Spencer was staring at you, unaware that you could see him. His stare sent another round of shivers down your spine.
Always the gentleman, Spencer helped you out of the car once you'd arrived to his apartment. It hit you that you'd actually never been to Spencer's apartment before. You wondered if it looked anything like you'd imagined.
And it was. Exactly as you'd imagined, actually. Dim, warm lights that gave a cozy feeling. He had a brown, leather couch with a green blanket over the top. Books were scattered all over the apartment, but it was done neatly. They were probably organized in a way that would only make sense to Spencer.
"Sorry it's such a mess," Spencer apologized, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's not at all," You replied. "I guess you've never seen my place."
Spencer hummed, "I haven't."
Being a good host, Spencer offered to make you some tea. You sat at his island while he poured some water in a kettle to heat up.
"So, you know you can be honest with me, right?" You decided to awkwardly start a conversation. The silence was just not doing it for you.
"Of course I know that," Spencer nodded. His back was turned to you as he prepped your mugs.
You shook off your nerves, "Did you actually not sleep with Lila Archer?"
Spencer turned around at your words. "I didn't sleep with Lila Archer." He confirmed. "If I did, you know Morgan wouldn't stop talking about it for the rest of our lives."
A small chuckle came from you. "He really wouldn't." You mused.
"Plus, she's, uh, not my type." Spencer boldly continued after a pause of silence.
"What is your type?" You asked curiously, heart increasing, a deep hope he said you were his type.
"I don't know." Spencer mumbled.
The kettle began to whistle, you could see Spencer's body physically relax at this. A distraction. He passed you the tea which you graciously thanked him for. The two of you sat in a comforting silence as you drank.
Spencer looked so gorgeous in this way. His hair was a bit disheveled, untamed from the long flight. His eyes held no signs of tiredness. Your case was in California. You'd left this morning. He must've also slept the whole way home. His brown locks mesmerized you. Oh, how you wanted to curl your fingers in them. Not to mention the ghost of stubble on his face. You imagined tracing your fingers over it softly, wishing to feel him shiver under your touch.
Maybe it was the remaining alcohol still in your system, or maybe pining after him wasn't doing it anymore. You don't know what came over you when you leaned forward, your nose nearly touching his.
Spencer didn't move, you didn't move. It was an odd standoff. "Spence," You softly mumbled his name. You could see his eyes staring down- oh. At your lips. Somehow, you knew he wouldn't do it You watched the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed a gulp of nerves.
It was like he couldn't speak. But you knew it the moment you locked eyes again. You'd know that look anywhere; desperation. It was probably gleaming in your eyes, too. You could definitely feel it.
A sudden wave of confidence crashed over you and you felt yourself pushing your lips against Spencer’s. It took him maybe a full second to process what was happening. His large hands came to grab your face, pressing you closer to him. The kiss felt like nothing you’d expected of Spencer. He took control over the situation quickly. He pushed against you hard, slipping his tongue between your slightly parted lips. It was messy, rough, yet filled with such genuine passion it was dizzying.
“Spence,” You pulled back breathlessly. His eyes were filled with something new, something more lustful.
He softly shushed you, hands still on your face, pulling you back in. It was slightly teeth-clashing, hot. “I’ve been waiting for this,” Spencer muttered between kisses, his voice a near whine. “Just couldn’t make the first move.”
Spencer pulled back, rushing around the counter to where you sat. He pushed apart your legs to stand in between them. His fingers grabbed your chin, thumb on it and his first finger under your chin. He gently forced your head to look up to him. His cheeks were flushed, and you assumed yours were a near identical reflection.
“Tell me what you want,” Spencer whispered. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give you anything, everything.”
“You, I just want you.”
That’s all it took for Spencer to kiss you again. your hands went around his neck to pull off his tie, your hands then moving to unbutton his dress shirt. His worked just as quickly to undo yours.
“Not here,” Spencer muttered, eyes falling to your half-bare chest. “My room’s down the hall.”
With Spencer’s hand in your own, you quickly ran to his bedroom, a soft giggle escaping your lips and how cliché this all felt. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at your amusement. You leapt onto his bed, landing on your knees as you wrapped your arms around his neck, playing with the hair that ended on the back of his head.
“Hi, boy genius.” You smiled, voice soft and warm. It reminded Spencer of a hot vanilla latte, or maybe something like a cinnamon roll. Sweet, warm, delicious.
“Hi, pretty girl.” Spencer replied, thumb rubbing sweetly over your cheek.
You both stared into each others eyes for a moment, taking in the delicacy of the intimate moment. Spencer slowly pushed his lips onto yours. It was the most gentle kiss of the evening, and it reminded you that Spencer wasn’t doing this because he felt like it. No, you were his type. Not Lila, you.
Spencer and you slowly discarded the rest of your clothing, allowing Spencer to slowly drag his fingers over your bare skin, admiring your beauty. “You’re almost as beautiful as Aphrodite,” he muttered. “I would say prettier, but the ancient Greek believed it would curse whomever was called more beautiful because Aphrodite wanted to remain the most beautiful.”
Even during moments like this, you loved Spencer’s rambles. Slowly, Spencer began to kiss all around your jaw, moving down your neck and to your chest. Your hands found his hair as you arched into him. He spent some time licking and sucking on your chest, loving the way you sounded for him, the way you pulled on his hair. He loved the smell of your skin, how soft it felt beneath his lips and tongue.
“Spencer,” you whined, pulling harder on his hair.
The man looked up to you, eyes gleaming as his mouth popped off you with a small pop. “Yeah, baby?”
“I need more,” you replied.
“Like what?” Spencer teased, slowly dragging his finger down your stomach. “Need more here?” He asked, playfully biting at your chest. “Or… here?” Spencer’s fingers trailed over your thigh, slowly moving from the inside to the out.
You groaned, “Oh, there! Please, there!”
Spencer also groaned in reply, “Didn’t take you as a begger,” he muttered. “but I love it.”
Slowly, Spencer moved his finger to your aching core. It slowly ran through your folds, causing you to moan loudly. “Spence,”
“Is this all for me?” Spencer cockily asked, referring to your wetness. You nodded quickly, pulling him down to kiss you once more. As he kissed you, he slid a finger inside, just to the first knuckle to gather some of your slick. He brought it back out and slowly began to circle your clit with it. Pulling back from the kiss, you became a mess of moans, whines, and breathy sounds. Spencer slowly kissed up and down your neck as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves. “This enough for you, baby?”
“Inside,” you stumble out. “Please, inside me.”
Spencer couldn’t help but give you exactly what you wanted. How could he when you begged so nicely for him? He brought that same finger back inside, plunging it until it reached his final knuckle. Slowly, he began to pump it in and out of you, allowing you grace to adjust to the new object inside you.
“How’s that?” Spencer asked.
“Good, so good,” You babbled.
His finger multiplied and became two. They pumped in and out, adding slight curls to his fingers every now and again. His thumb went back to your clit, slowly rubbing it for added pleasure. “This what you wanted, sweet girl? This what you’ve imagined me doing to you?”
“Yes, yes!” You moaned.
Spencer smiled, “I’m not going to lie, I’ve imagined this moment for the last year.” In any other occasion, you would’ve became bashful at the declaration, but you were already too far gone with the alcohol and pleasure in your system.
It was then Spencer’s fingers hit your soft spot, causing your back to arch. “Oh, baby!” You cried out, grabbing onto the man above you and wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.
“There?” He asked.
“Oh, yes! There!” You answered quickly.
Spencer worked his magic, adding another finger as you stretched for him. It didn’t take long for your first orgasm to hit you like a sea of stars. Spencer softly shushed you, helping you relax.
“You okay?” Spencer smoothed your hair as he looked at you carefully.
You nodded, “Please, Spence. I want you.”
Spencer wasted no time lining himself up with you, allowing some of your slick to gather on his hard-on. He pushed in, causing you both to groan in unison.
“Oh my god,” he breathlessly said. “You’re so tight, oh my god. Baby, you feel so good.” His voice raised, slightly higher than normal as he resisted the urge to move until you said so.
“Move, move, please,” You told him. He wasted no time pushing his hips forward and backward, pulling your legs up around his hips once more.
He fit you so good, so right. Everything in that moment felt perfect, like he was made for you. You were made for him. It took Spencer less than a minute to be snapping his hips in record time. You felt like your eyes were going to roll back at the pleasure.
Spencer grabbed your chin the way he did earlier, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see your pretty eyes.”
Still reeling from your last orgasm, it took you no time to feel your climax approaching once more. “Spence, I need to come,”
“Not yet,” He groaned. “‘M almost there, baby. Hold on,” You felt a loud whine emit from your throat. The sound of it made Spencer’s dick throb, and you felt it. “Doing so good for me, honey. Oh, god, I’m almost there. So good.”
You were on the brink of orgasm. You weren’t sure if you could hold it any longer. “Spencer!”
“Where?” He asked.
“In, oh my god,” You practically were yelling at this point.
“Let go, baby,” Spencer’s words were all you needed to finally reach that sweet, sweet release again. You felt him spill inside you, the warmth making your orgasm feel even better. Spencer’s arms slowly gave out above you, and he slowly fell onto your chest. He pressed his lips to your hair, a sweet gesture.
The two of you laid there, catching your breath. You played with Spencer’s curls as he gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “I kind of have a crush on you,” You admitted jokingly, knowing he knew.
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “I do too.” He sat up, pulling out of you. You wished he didn’t; it felt so empty. “You gotta go pee, right?”
“Yeah,” You groaned lazily, slowly sitting up. “Hey, you’re gonna take me on a date after this, right?”
Spencer nodded with a smile, “I already have it planned. Now, go use the bathroom so we can fall asleep together.”
You mock saluted at him, “Yes, sir. I’ll be right back.”
Who knew your night out would lead to the best night of your life?
2K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 7 months ago
Note
a bit late but i have a request for protective aaron 😓😓 reader and hotch having a date night and they run into someone who claims to be from the fbi like that one guy who prentiss garcia and jj came across?? maybe they play along for while? i love ur writing btw 💕💕 and congrats on 5k!!
brad's back
let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for ages, and what if it is the same guy they came across 🤭 cw; jealous!aaron, bau fem!reader, bar setting, light drinking mentions, suggestiveness, brad LOL wc; 1.2k
Saturday night. Date night.
Aaron and yourself had already finished dinner, and had stopped at a nearby bar for a drink or two before heading home. Jack was at Jessica's for the night, having fun of his own at a sleepover with his cousins.
That meant a wonderfully empty apartment was waiting for you, and all of its advantages.
You were giddy with impatience, eager to head out. As you waited for Aaron to return - he had run to the men's room - out of your peripheral you sensed someone lingering, just a few feet away from where you were sat.
You turned your head, subtly brushing your fingers through your hair so your glance didn't seem purposeful. It was a man in a suit, hair swept cleanly, looking greatly out of place in the casualness of the bar.
But your discreet attempt at observing did go noticed; the man took it as a plausible excuse to approach you.
"You should be careful."
Your eyebrows quirked quizzically, evaluating whether or not his statement was a threat or hopeful flirting. "How so?"
"Saturday night. It's getting late. We're in a high crime area."
You widened your eyes in feigned surprise, "Are we?"
No, you were not.
You quickly deemed him harmless, for now. And while you waited, why not play into it; he obviously had some story going, without a doubt a highly entertaining one at that. Not only, with Aaron due back in a few short minutes, you wouldn't mind seeing his protective side in the slightest.
"But lucky for you, I'm around. I just so happen to be a part of the FBI."
"Really." Your chin pointed downwards, not wasting a second to rack through your brain. He didn't look familiar, and you were quite good at remembering faces. You definitely hadn't come across this man before in practice.
When nothing unveiled, "I didn't catch your name."
"Brad."
Holy shit. You've heard the infamous Brad story from the girls, numerous times, and this had to be him. It had to; he was just as they described: vain, a bit gawky. You quickly stifled the laugh that wanted to burst through your chest. It's been months since, and evidently he was still using the same pickup.
"Brad the FBI agent." You nodded slowly, toying with your drink, fingers on the rim. "That's quite the title. What department are you in?"
"That's classified," he answered, leaning against the counter on an elbow. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"I see..."
Your eyes shot to the side as Aaron approached, landing on him just in time to see him stop in his tracks. As expected, a scowl deepened on his face as he saw Brad talking to you, also taking notice of his close, flirtatious proximity. His feet began moving once again, more urgency in his step.
"You must know Aaron then." You gushed, grabbing onto Aaron's arm and drawing him close as soon as he was in reach, and before he could ruthlessly interrogate Brad. Aaron lightly stumbled in surprise at the sudden pull.
Brad blanched, "I, urm-"
"Aaron," you grinned, "this is Brad."
Aaron shot you a look, one that read: 'And why the hell would I care?' but as he gave you said look, he immediately eyed the mischievous, fiery glint in your eyes. You were up to something.
The tension lessened in Aaron (barely), offering a rather stiff, "Hello."
"Brad," you turned, your hand clutching onto Aaron's bicep, your thumb grazing it calmly. "Aaron's in the FBI too."
Aaron's shoulders relaxed, probably coming to the same realization; he's heard the story also, as Penelope all but sprinted into the bullpen to share the hilarious encounter.
"No, I don't believe we have met." He activated his Hotch Stare, "What department are you-"
"Oh, he can't say. Classified." You interrupted, lips developing into a pout. "Strange, isn't it?"
While Aaron's notorious expression was enough to make Brad squirm, he also put an arm around you, keeping you close. Very close, your shoulder was practically digging into his chest.
Brad forced a laugh, his voice painfully strained. "Actually, it's uh... the big one. In DC."
"The big one." Aaron deadpanned, his brows furrowing more into a hardened line above his eyes. "You mean the J. Edgar Hoover Building?"
"Yes sir, that one." He rushed out, his gaze darting to the side. Probably looking for a quick escape.
"And your speciality?"
A dreadfully, humorously weak answer, "Crime."
"Crime." Aaron repeated, with an undertone of idiot.
"Modern day hero, clearly." You inputted. Aaron's lips twitched, holding back a smile.
"Your Superior is?"
"Superior... you see, I really can't stay. My boss wouldn't be too happy with me giving out the details."
"And you are aware that impersonation can be charged as a criminal offense," Aaron laid it on thick, his tone nothing less than strictly authoritative. "Aren't you?"
Brad opened his mouth to respond. Much to his avail, only silence came out.
"If I were you, I would try to find a better use of your time than using a forged title to pick up women. Perhaps being yourself may work? Although, I believe that needs extensive work as well."
Humiliation glassed over Brad's eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned on his heel, retreating.
"One more thing."
Your heart skipped a beat. From Aaron's tone of voice, the protectiveness you had anticipated - deep emphasis was about to come to the surface.
"I'm not the only one in the FBI." He spoke with pride in his chest, cocking his head towards you. Aaron's lips also quipped into a smile, whereas a smug look was on your face. "She's more than capable to take care of herself. And if for some reason she couldn't, that's where I come in."
Brad merely stood there, helplessly. From the irritation present on his face, he was completely over it.
"Have a good night."
"That was something, wasn't it?" You stated humorously once Brad was out of earshot.
Aaron snorted a laugh into his drink. "I'll say."
"I wonder how often it's worked." You thought aloud, feeling for those who had unknowingly fallen for it.
"Not enough if he's still using it as a ruse."
"It's kinda sad." While it was well deserved, long overdue and hopefully ceased any future endeavors of his, you still couldn't help but feel bad. Partially bad.
"It is, but he doesn't deserve your pity sweetheart." Aaron's hand fell atop yours, giving your knuckles a gentle pat. "Ready to head out?"
You nodded yes, "I've been ready."
After tossing some bills on the counter, Aaron properly grabbed your hand this time. The two of you headed for the exit, Aaron's hold on your hand tightening - to not lose you amidst the crowd, or for anyone else to make a pass at you.
"Is this the part where I say I can show you what a real FBI agent can do?" Aaron teased, a delightful little smirk on his face as he opened the door.
You laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. And benefits me."
2K notes · View notes
godsfavdarling · 4 months ago
Text
How does that feel?
my masterlist
+18!!!
pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You've been having a hard time finishing in bed and you finally tell Spencer what's going on. words: 4,4k warnings: smut - oral (fem! receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't do that) a/n: this was a request! also, i've stared at this thing for so long i don't know anymore what's going on, but i hope yall like it <3
Tumblr media
You sat at a cozy corner table in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by your closest friends - Penelope, Emily, and JJ. The four of you had met up for a much-needed girls' night out to finally have a chance to unwind and catch up. 
"Can you believe the latest case we worked on?" JJ said, shaking her head. "Sometimes it feels like we're living in a crime novel."
"Tell me about it," Emily agreed. "But PLEASE! Let’s not talk about work. I need to decompress."
Penelope raised her glass. "To decompressing! And to… friends!"
You all clinked glasses, smiling at each other. Very quickly the conversation shifted towards more personal topics.
"So, how are things with Will?" Emily asked, turning to JJ.
JJ smiled. "Things are great, actually. We're planning a little getaway next month, just the two of us. What about you, Em? Any romance on the horizon?"
Emily shrugged. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. Besides, it’s not easy to find love having this job. When am I supposed to do that?"
Penelope grinned. "Don’t you worry about it, pumpkin! You’re gonna find someone soon. I can feel it in my bones!."
The conversation continued in this vein for a while, each of you sharing updates about your romantic lives. You listened and laughed along, but Penelope's observant eyes caught the slightly distant look on your face.
"Alright, spill it," Penelope prompted, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What's been going on with you lately? You've seemed a bit off."
You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. These were your friends, after all, and you knew you could trust them. "It's just... I've been having a hard time finishing in bed lately. It's been… really frustrating."
Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression sympathetic. "Have you talked to Spencer about it?"
You shook your head. "Not yet. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make him feel bad or think it's his fault. He's always so attentive, and I don't want him to think he's doing something wrong. And he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s perfect. Obviously."
JJ leaned in, her voice gentle. "Hey, communication is key. Spencer loves you, and I'm sure he’d want to know what's going on so he can help. I’m sure his big brain knows exactly what to do."
Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be an opportunity to explore new things together… Sometimes all it takes is a little experimentation."
You smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him."
-------------------------------------
Later that evening, you found yourself back at home, sitting on the couch next to Spencer. He was engrossed in a book, the dim light casting soft shadows across his focused face. He set the book aside when he noticed your pensive expression, concern immediately clouding his eyes.
"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.
You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Spence, there's something I need to talk to you about."
He turned to face you fully, his full attention on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. What is it?"
You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap as you searched for the right words. Finally, you decided to dive in. "Lately, I've been having a hard time finishing in bed. It's been really frustrating for me, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel bad."
Spencer's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. His mouth opened slightly as if to speak, but he hesitated, clearly processing what you had just revealed. "Oh…”
You immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. You still enjoyed sex but just couldn't reach the high. Maybe you were just too stressed. 
It had nothing to do with Spencer. 
Tears welled up in your eyes as Spencer seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. Why would he know what to say? You felt like you were just making things difficult.
“Forget it. It’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation and spare him the discomfort.
“No, no, no, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your hands as you started to stand up. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I just… how did I not notice? I… I’m just trying to remember, well, I remember everything and I just… I can’t believe I… couldn’t tell.”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I didn’t want you to know. It’s embarrassing.” Your voice wavered, and you looked away, feeling tears start to spill down your cheeks.
“No, it’s not. It’s not embarrassing. I want you to feel good.”
“It does feel good. Always. I just… I don’t know. I just can’t cum. It’s like I get almost there and it feels good, but it never happens.” At this point, you were crying openly, the frustration and embarrassment overwhelming you.
Spencer pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and steady beat of his heart. He rubbed your back soothingly, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. I want to help."
You clung to him, feeling the weight of your frustration starting to lift just a little. "I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think it was your fault."
Spencer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with love. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. Sometimes these things happen. What’s important is that we’re in this together. We can try new things, we can talk and see what works for you.”
You nodded, sniffling a little. “Okay. I’d like that.”
“Good,” he said, smiling gently, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “We’ll take it slow and explore together. Your pleasure is important to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re satisfied.”
As you snuggled into his arms, the tension slowly easing from your body, you wondered why you had been so scared to tell him in the first place. Spencer always knew what to say, always knew how to make you feel safe and loved. 
This was Spencer - your Spencer - and you realized you had nothing to fear.
-------------------------------------
Spencer was clearly waiting for you to initiate anything, respecting your pace and comfort. In the meantime, he very carefully tried to understand you.
Despite his constant reassurances that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that he was more than happy to figure this out together, you couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment about your problem. He was understanding and supportive, trying to create a safe space for you to open up about your frustrations.
You spent several nights just talking, diving deep into the details of your intimate experiences. Spencer approached it with a mix of curiosity and determination, asking thoughtful and sometimes probing questions. 
You discussed every position you'd tried before, analyzing what felt best and why. You talked about your feelings toward toys and whether they might help. 
Spencer inquired about foreplay - whether it felt too short, too long, too intense, or not intense enough. He wanted to understand what was most pleasurable for you in terms of finishing. Was it when he was eating you out, fingering you, or through penetration? Or did you find that a combination of these was most satisfying? 
He also asked if you enjoyed it when he talked to you during the act. What were your favorite things for him to say? 
He wanted to understand everything about your experiences. What went through your mind when you masturbated? What kind of porn did you watch? Each question, while sometimes making your face flush with embarrassment, was asked with genuine care and focus. 
Spencer treated it like a meticulous scientific research project, aiming to solve the problem with the utmost care and attentiveness. His dedication and focus made you feel deeply cared for, as he was on a mission to be the one to help you find the satisfaction you deserved.
On Saturday night, you and Spencer lay in bed with your books, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company. He was engrossed in a thick classic novel in a foreign language, while you were absorbed in your favorite author’s new romance. The plot had just reached the point where the two protagonists had sex for the first time. The scene stirred something deep within you, making your skin feel hot and your heart race. You bit your lip, trying to concentrate, but your thoughts kept drifting.
As the scene ended, you finally allowed yourself to look over at Spencer. He was completely lost in the pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“Having problems, genius?” you teased, your voice carrying a playful edge.
“What? No!” he replied, not even looking up from the words on the page. “How’s your romance? Is it good?”
“Oh... it’s very good,” you said, scooting closer to him, propping your head on your hand. Finally, he looked at you, curiosity mingling with his usual attentiveness.
“What is it?” he asked, sensing your change in mood.
“Nothing,” you replied with feigned innocence, placing your hand on his chest. 
His eyes stayed on you, studying your expression. Your breathing grew heavier as you stared at his neck, unable to hold back any longer. You lowered your face to the side of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.
Spencer's breath hitched slightly, and he set his book aside, his attention fully on you now. "Are you sure it's nothing?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.
You smiled against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Well, maybe it's something," you admitted, your voice a whisper. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, feeling a now quicker beat of his heart beneath your touch.
Spencer’s hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes filled with desire.
The room felt charged with electricity. 
“Well… I was just reading this scene… where, you know… the girl and the boy finally fucked. On the floor. It made me think of us.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.
“You want to have sex on the floor?” Spencer asked with a serious tone.
You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “No, too many germs,” you said with a playful grin.
Spencer chuckled, his eyes softening with affection. “Alright, not on the floor then,” he said, his voice low and inviting as his hand gently caressed your cheek. “But I get the idea.”
You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding with anticipation. “I just want to be close to you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.
Spencer's eyes darkened with understanding, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft yet insistent. “Then let’s explore that together,” he whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip, pulling you closer.
His kiss was deep, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine. 
His hand, now resting on your hip, guided you closer, pressing your bodies together. 
You instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking some friction, and Spencer, ever observant, immediately noticed. It seemed impossible for him to be more attentive, yet somehow he was. 
With a gentle but deliberate motion, he turned you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. As he shifted, you felt the press of his already hard cock against your core, making you lift your hips slightly, yearning for more contact.
“We’re gonna take things slow, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I want you to feel good.”
You wanted him, you wanted him now, but you understood his approach. 
After all the endless conversations, you and Spencer had reached a few conclusions about what worked best for you both. 
For one, you often found yourselves too excited, mostly you, to slow things down. Foreplay, though it was present, had usually been quite brief due to the intense need to get naked and feel him inside you. So, longer foreplay became a new priority.
Two, you discovered that you felt most connected when he was close to you, every part of his body touching yours.
Three, you both agreed on the importance of more kissing. Spencer had given you what felt like a comprehensive college level lesson on erogenous zones, emphasizing the need to focus on and cherish these areas. 
His lips, his touch, his breath - every aspect of physical intimacy was to be savored and explored in greater depth.
With these insights in mind, Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch designed to explore and stimulate. 
His kisses traveled from your lips to your neck, then lower, each movement a careful balance of passion and tenderness.
He paused to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with both love and a hint of playful mischief. “Ready for us to take our time?” he asked, his voice a soothing murmur.
You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. “Let’s take our time.”
Your nipples were already hard against your tank top, the fabric offering little barrier to the stimulation. Spencer grazed the side of your breasts with his hands, his touch both teasing and tender. 
As his lips kissed and nuzzled your collarbones, his thumb began to circle your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. The sensation made you shiver with pleasure, and you melted further into his touch.
His leg, now firmly pressed between your thighs, rubbed gently against your inner thighs and core. The pressure of his length pressed into your hip, amplifying the heat building in you.
“Please, take it off,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need.
“Take off what?” Spencer murmured, his face still buried in your chest, his hair brushing against your face with every movement.
“My shirt. Please,” you pleaded, a hint of desperation in your voice.
He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid his hands lower, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He showered your exposed skin with soft kisses, his lips warm and affectionate against your belly. 
As you reached for the hem of your shirt, you quickly pulled it off, tossing it aside.
“What happened to taking things slow?” Spencer asked, looking up at you with a teasing grin, his chin resting against your stomach.
“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. “I just want to make sure you feel really good.”
“I do,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Keep going.”
“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured with a soft chuckle.
With that, Spencer moved between your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders. He positioned himself comfortably, and you felt the anticipation rise as his face moved closer to your core. 
He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against your sensitive folds, making you whimper in response.
“Please,” you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, pulling down your underwear with careful, deliberate motions. He started with a gentle kiss on your nub, his lips exploring with a tenderness that made you gasp. 
He then trailed his kisses down to your thighs, peppering them with soft, teasing pecks. The sensation was delightful, and you giggled, placing your hand on his cheek.
He turned his mouth to your hand, kissing the inside of your palm before taking it in his hand and guiding it back to rest gently beside you. His fingers lingered, his touch warm and reassuring as he held your hand. 
He then looked at your cunt.
“You’re already so wet. For me?” he asked, his voice filled with both awe and desire.
“For you? Always,” you replied, your breath hitching.
He chuckled against you, the sound and the vibration making you shiver. “Don’t do that,” you said with a laugh, trying to steady your breathing.
“Sorry,” he murmured with a playful tone. 
Before you could say anything more, he gave you a long, slow lick from your entrance to the top, his tongue moving with a deliberate slowness. He stopped at your sensitive nub and began to suck gently, his mouth working with a rhythm that made you arch your back and moan in pleasure.
Spencer’s mouth was a world of sensation against you. 
He kept going with long, languid licks, his tongue gliding from your entrance to the top of your sensitive nub. Each stroke was deliberate, exploring every inch with a careful, loving precision. 
The warmth of his tongue, combined with the perfect pressure, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you gasp and moan.
You felt your breath quicken as his movements became more focused. 
He moved his tongue in quicker, teasing circles around your clit, his mouth creating a constant, delightful friction. 
You squirmed under the intensity, your hips instinctively bucking in response.
When you no longer felt him on your clit, a desperate cry for him almost escaped your lips. But then, he gently slipped his tongue inside you, and a wave of relief and pleasure washed over you. 
He moved with precision, his tongue exploring deeper while maintaining the steady, teasing motions that drove you wild. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure from you.
His nose brushed against your folds and clit with each movement, adding an extra layer of sensation. The combination of his tongue inside you and the gentle pressure of his nose against your most sensitive spot made you tremble. 
Your hand clutched at the sheets, your body arching toward him, seeking more.
You could feel the build-up of tension and ecstasy swelling inside you.
Through all of this, Spencer held your hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. 
As you felt your orgasm approaching, you squeezed his hand tightly, your fingers gripping his with a mix of desperation and pleasure. 
Spencer responded by tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch soothing and intimate amidst all the intense sensations he was creating.
With a final, expert flick of his tongue, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax. 
Your body tensed and then released in a wave of pleasure, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued his slow, consistent movements, savoring every moment of your release.
As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he slowly eased his mouth away, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs. 
His hand remained clasped with yours, and he looked into your eyes from between your thighs, his expression a mix of content and desire. “Wanna keep going? We can stop if you need to.”
You shook your head, a determined glint in your eyes as you pulled yourself up and crushed into him, pressing your lips against his with an almost desperate intensity. 
The kiss was fervent, your tongues dancing together, both urgent and consuming as you tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. He was covered in you.
Spencer’s hands found their way to your back, his touch warm and gentle, but firm at the same time.
Tonight felt different. It was more intense, more electric. 
As your kiss grew deeper, you moaned into him, the sound mingling with his own soft groans of pleasure. With a deft maneuver, he turned you so that you were straddling him, his hands firmly on your hips.
“Is this okay?” he managed to ask, his voice a low rumble as he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. The effort it took to break the kiss was evident, his breaths heavy and laden with desire.
“Yes,” you responded quickly, your need palpable as you crashed your lips back onto his, kissing him even harder. 
“Baby, slow down,” Spencer said softly, though his voice was tinged with longing. “We were meant to go slow.”
You moved your lips to his cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that were tender but laced with urgency. “I need you. I need you so bad,” you whispered against his skin, the words laced with an aching desire.
Spencer gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your jawline. He guided your gaze to meet his.
“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise and his eyes filled with affection “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night and even more.”
He leaned in and kissed you with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. 
“How do you do it?” you asked breathlessly, your curiosity blending with the haze of desire. You wondered, as you looked into his eyes, how he managed to maintain such control over himself amidst all the passion.
“What?” Spencer’s voice was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
“Stop yourself,” you clarified, your voice barely above a whisper. “How do you manage to hold back?”
Spencer’s eyes softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s not about holding back,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “It’s about making sure you feel good. I want this to be perfect for you, for us, every time. That’s what matters.”
His words stirred something deep within you, and you were hit by a wave of warmth and appreciation. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the tender, loving nature of his touch gave you goosebumps.
“Can we fuck now?” you asked, your voice husky with need.
Spencer looked at you with a warm, eager smile. “Yes. Yes, we can,”
You gave his cock a few teasing strokes, feeling the way he reacted, his breath hitching as he moaned softly into your shoulder. You slowly guided him to your entrance. 
The sensation of him pressing against you was both thrilling and comforting, a familiar solace you will never get tired of and always makes your world shudder.
With a gentle, deliberate motion, you positioned him at your core, and you slowly lowered yourself onto him. 
The gradual stretch and the way he filled you completely was exquisite, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths softly. 
You took your time, savoring each inch, feeling every subtle shift and movement.
Spencer’s hands were steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you as you adjusted to his size. His breaths were heavy, matching the rhythm of your movements. 
The room was filled with only the sound of your shared pleasure, a mix of gasps and moans.
As you slowly rode him, the rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, each motion building both of you up to the peak. 
Spencer’s hands were not idle - he moved with purpose, his touch exploring every inch of your body with a deep, loving attentiveness.
One hand continued to support you around your lower back, while the other trailed up to your breasts. His fingers began to play with your nipples, gently pinching and rolling them as you moved. 
That was one thing you had confessed to him during one of your intimate conversations, and Spencer had clearly taken it to heart. You had shared with him how much you loved when he played with your breasts, revealing, a bit embarrassed, the deep pleasure it brought you.
“How does that feel?” he asked in between the kisses he left on your neck, his voice a husky whisper against your skin.
“Fuck,” was all you managed to say, a breathless gasp that made him chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.
He massaged your breasts tenderly, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, adjusting his touch to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His lips covered every inch of your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
The combination of his hands on your breasts, the feeling of him inside you, and his lips on your skin was overwhelming. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
Spencer’s breath came in ragged gasps, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours. His hands worked skillfully, keeping your nipples sensitive and aroused as your movements became more frantic and desperate. Then his eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of concentration and passion evident in his gaze.
While you stared into his brown eyes, he finally teased your nipple with a light lick of his tongue. 
You almost screamed. 
He started kissing it while his other hand worked on your other breast, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue traced circles around your hard peak, sending shivers down your spine, while his slim fingers squeezed the other one.
At that point, you screamed into his ear, unable to contain the intensity of your pleasure.
“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice a trembling apology.
“It’s okay. You’re so beautiful,” he replied, his eyes softening with affection as he looked at you, his hands never ceasing their tender ministrations. His words and touch combined, making you feel cherished and desired in every way and that made your heart swell.
His lips returned to your other nipple, sucking and teasing it with more insistence now.
Finally, the pressure inside you reached its peak. 
With a gasp and a shudder, you came, the wave of ecstasy crashing over you while his lips stayed on your breasts peppering them with kisses.
Your body tensed and then relaxed as you rode out the climax, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued to stroke your breasts gently, his touch both soothing and stimulating as he guided you through the final throes of your orgasm.
As you slowly came down from the high, you leaned your head against his, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the other arm wrapped around his neck. He held you close, his hands now lingering on your back with a soft, affectionate touch. 
He squeezed you tightly, turning his face to kiss your neck, which elicited one more moan from your lips. 
You could feel him smiling against your skin as he squeezed you tightly one more time.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
anniebeemine · 3 months ago
Text
Vanilla- s.r. x fem!reader
warnings: big ego AND jealous spencer, spanking, unprotected sex, oral (femrecieving), cumplay
It started out as just another gathering with the team—a casual night out after a long case, everyone laughing and unwinding at a local bar. You sat beside Spencer, enjoying the rare opportunity to relax with him and his colleagues. The conversation was light and fun, bouncing from one topic to another, until it inevitably drifted into teasing against you and Spencer. It started out like usual, some quips about when he'd pop the question or when you'll pop out a few mini geniuses. Then it shifted into a few weeks ago when you came into work with a top that was lower cut than usual, shifting to show a deep purple love bite sometime during lunch with the girls.
Spencer flushed a deep red, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the table burst into laughter. "Uh, well," he stammered, "that was… an unfortunate coincidence."
You shot him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "Unfortunate? That was all you, Doctor Reid." You leaned into him playfully.
Penelope gasped in exaggerated shock, placing a hand over her heart. "Spencer Reid, you little devil! I never would have guessed you had it in you!"
Derek clapped Spencer on the back, nearly knocking him forward with the force of it. "Man, you’re full of surprises! Didn’t think you had it in you to leave a trail. Reid, you’re probably the most wholesome guy I know."
Emily, never one to pass up on a good-natured ribbing, smirked. “Yeah, I bet your idea of a wild night is reading a book until midnight.”
The table erupted in laughter, and Spencer, always a good sport, chuckled along. But you could see a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your heart twist a little. You reached under the table, squeezing his hand gently, offering silent reassurance. He glanced at you, and the warmth of your touch seemed to ease some of the discomfort, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.
“You know, Reid’s probably the kind of guy who apologizes during sex,” Morgan added, his tone playful but with a teasing edge. “Always so polite, probably says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ the whole time.”
Your cheeks flushed, and though you managed to keep your expression neutral, you felt a surge of protectiveness for Spencer. The image they were painting of him was so far from the truth that it almost made you want to correct them right then and there, tell them the truth of his tendencies. But you stayed quiet, your bedroom life with Spencer was private, something just for the two of you, and you had no desire to share those intimate details with anyone else—not even his closest friends.
Spencer laughed it off, making a self-deprecating joke to deflect the attention, but you could tell the teasing had gotten to him. He stayed quiet for the rest of the night, offering only the occasional smile or nod as the conversation continued around him.
When you finally got home, the silence between you was thick with unspoken tension. Spencer had been quiet the whole ride back, and as soon as you closed the front door behind you, you knew it was time to address it.
“Spencer,” you began softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet since we left."
He turned to you, his expression conflicted, a mix of frustration and hurt. “It’s just… is that how they see me? As this meek, vanilla guy who can’t… who can’t be anything else?”
Your heart ached for him. “They don’t know you like I do, Spencer. They were just teasing. They don’t realize how far off they are.”
Spencer shook his head, pulling away slightly. “But you didn’t say anything. You just sat there and let them think… let them think I’m some kind of pushover.”
You sighed, understanding now where this was coming from. “Spencer, I didn’t say anything because I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business what happens between us. We agreed not to share that part of our relationship with them.”
“I know that,” he replied, his voice strained. “But it felt like you were agreeing with them by staying silent. Like you were okay with them seeing me that way.”
You stepped closer to him, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “Spencer, listen to me. I don’t care what they think. I know who you are. I know how you make me feel, how you take care of me, how passionate and intense you can be. None of that needs to be proven to anyone else.” You caressed his cheekbones with your thumbs. “Besides, do you think you really want them to know how you have me bent over the back of the couch more often than not? How you have me counting out my punishments?”
His eyes softened, but there was still a lingering doubt. “But it just… it made me feel like they think I’m less of a man or something. Like I’m not enough.”
You shook your head firmly. “You are more than enough, Spencer. You’re everything I could ever want. What we have is special, and I don’t need to justify it to anyone else. They can think whatever they want, but at the end of the day, they don’t know the real you. I do.”
He looked at you, really looked at you, and you could see the tension slowly start to leave his body. He let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. It just… got under my skin.”
You hugged him tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I understand, Spencer. But remember, you’re incredible just the way you are. And I love you for it. All of it.”
Spencer nodded, the last of his frustration melting away as he held you. “Thank you. I love you too. And I’m sorry for doubting that.”
You smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently. “You don’t ever have to apologize for how you feel. But just know, I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything.”
With that, the tension between you finally broke, and the two of you spent the rest of the night curled up together, letting the world outside fade away as you focused on each other, knowing that what you shared was something far deeper and more meaningful than anyone else could ever understand.
+++
Spencer had never really been the jealous type, but he was angry. Since the night of teasing at the bar, he'd been on edge.
It gnawed at him in a way he hadn't expected, chipping away at his usual calm demeanor. Since that night, there had been a subtle shift in his behavior—small things that you noticed but didn’t immediately address, hoping it would pass. But now, standing in the bar waiting for your drink, it was clear that something had snapped.
You had been leaning against the counter, waiting patiently for your order, when a stranger approached. He was confident, with a cocky smile, and placed his hand lightly on the small of your back. “Hey there,” he said smoothly, “let me get that for you.” He motioned to the bartender, offering to pay for your drink.
Before you could politely decline, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Spencer’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you away from the bar. His grip was gentle but insistent, his usual reserved demeanor replaced by something far more intense.
The stranger barely had time to react as Spencer led you out of the bar and into a dimly lit alley beside the building. The air was cooler outside, and the sudden change in environment only heightened the tension. Spencer didn’t say a word as he pressed you against the brick wall, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that took your breath away. There was no hesitation in his movements—his hands were everywhere, roaming over your body, pulling you flush against him as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any distance between you.
His kisses were fierce, demanding, and you responded in kind, matching his intensity with your own. It was as if all the unspoken emotions from the past few days had finally found an outlet, and Spencer was pouring everything into this moment. His usual restraint was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate need to claim you, to reassure himself of your connection.
You gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in the whirlwind of his sudden possessiveness. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body anchoring you in place.
“Spencer,” you whispered between kisses, your voice breathless. “Take me home."
His breath hitched at your words, a spark of something dangerous flaring in his eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled back slightly, his hand still firmly on your hip as he nodded, his voice low and filled with unspoken promise. "Let's go."
The walk back to your car was charged with anticipation, the quiet intensity between you almost palpable. Spencer’s hand remained on the small of your back, guiding you with a sense of urgency that sent shivers down your spine. The drive home was a blur, the silence between you thick with the weight of what was about to happen. Every glance he shot your way was laced with desire, his fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel as if he could barely contain himself.
As soon as you stepped through the door of your apartment, Spencer was on you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that stole your breath. He kicked the door shut behind you, his hands roaming your body, mapping out every inch of you as if he couldn’t get enough. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the raw need that had been building inside him finally finding release.
You barely made it to the bedroom, clothes discarded in a trail behind you, the air around you electric with anticipation. By the time you reached the bed, Spencer was a man possessed, his usual gentle touch replaced by something much more primal. He pushed you onto the bed, his body covering yours in an instant, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his need for you almost overwhelming.
His hands were everywhere—gripping your thighs, your waist, your arms—as he kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you moan into his mouth. He was relentless, his touch both commanding and desperate, as if he needed to prove to himself, and to you, that you were his.
“God please touch me, Spence. You’re the only person who could ever make me cum. I need your mouth on me baby, please.” He looks up at you through his lashes while he bites into your thigh, sucking so hard you know there’ll be a purple bruise tomorrow.  
Before you’ve prepared, he latches his mouth onto your pussy, laying his tongue flat against you and shaking his head back and forth. You scream out, taking a fistful of his curly hair into your hand and holding on for dear life as he licks and sucks feverishly. His saliva mixed with your arousal makes an absolute mess, dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. He pulls back for a moment and puts two fingers up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders and you oblige, opening and wrapping your tongue around his digits, moaning as you do. He watches you intensely and bites his lip as he imagines how you’d work him if you were sucking him off.
Once his fingers are wet, he pulls them out of your mouth and down to your core, circling a few times on your clit before pushing them into you completely. You let out a string of curse words as he curls them inside you, hitting your G-spot over and over again. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any more intense, he reattaches his mouth to your hood, using his tongue to trace figure-eights. Your toes begin to curl as you feel the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.
You shakily cry out his name, tugging his hair harder. The vibration from his moan brings you closer, a cry spilling from your lips. He doesn't stop, continuing his attack on your clit, his fingers picking up speed.
You wriggle and writhe beneath him, holding back cries. A second orgasm washes over you, voice taken as he finally sits back, hands running over your thighs soothingly.
"You know what I was thinking about the entire night?" He asked, undoing the buttons of his shirt.
"Tell me," you said through pants. "What were you thinking of?"
"How good your ass looked today."
You chuckled. "Really?"
Spencer's lips curled into a smirk as he nodded, his eyes darkening with that familiar hunger. "Really," he confirmed, his voice low and husky as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the toned chest beneath. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time you walked by, every time you leaned over, it drove me crazy."
You felt a flush of heat spread through your body at his words, a mixture of surprise and excitement. "And what did you want to do about it?" you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He shrugged off his shirt, tossing it aside before leaning back over you, his hands once again finding their place on your hips, gripping them possessively. "How badly I want to make them sting." His lips run over your collarbone, voice dropping. "I know you like it."
You whimper, nodding. "Then do it."
As you turn over, your breath catches in anticipation, your skin tingling with the promise of what’s to come. Spencer’s hands trail down your back, gentle at first, as if savoring the moment, before they grip your hips with that familiar possessiveness.
His voice is low, almost a growl, as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You know I’m going to make you beg for it, don’t you?"
You shiver at his words, your body reacting instinctively to the mix of dominance and tenderness in his tone. "Please, Spencer," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want it… I need it."
He lets out a low, satisfied hum, his hands sliding down to your ass, kneading the flesh before his fingers curl, and with a swift, calculated motion, he brings his hand down in a firm slap. The sharp sting spreads through you, igniting your nerves and drawing a gasp from your lips.
"How does that feel?" he asks, his voice dripping with control.
"Perfect," you manage to gasp out, the sting from his hand already sending ripples of pleasure through you.
His hand comes down again, harder this time, and you arch your back in response, biting your lip to hold back a cry. Each slap is deliberate, perfectly timed, and as the sensation builds, so does your desire. The pain is just enough to make you ache for more, to make you want to give in to everything he’s offering. Spencer’s hand continues its work, each strike sending a wave of heat and electricity through your body. Your breaths come out in ragged pants, and you can feel your entire being focused on the sensations he’s creating, on the way he’s drawing out your pleasure.
"Do you like it when I make you feel like this?" he asks, his voice husky and rough as his hand moves rhythmically against you.
"Yes," you breathe out, your voice almost desperate. "I love it… I love how you make me feel, Spencer."
"Good," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck before his hand delivers another firm slap, making your skin burn in the best possible way. "Because I love making you feel this way."
The stinging pleasure only heightens your need for him, and as his hand continues to bring you to the edge of what you can take, you know you’re utterly and completely his. The mix of pain and pleasure is intoxicating, and you’re lost in the sensation, in the way he’s controlling your body with such expert precision. When he finally stops, his hand soothing over your stinging skin, you can’t help but whimper at the loss, your body still thrumming with need. Spencer leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he murmurs against your skin, "You’re so beautiful like this. Do you want more?"
"Please," you gasp, barely able to form the words through the haze of desire that’s clouding your mind. "Please, Spencer… I need more."
His voice is a dark promise as he whispers in your ear, "Then let’s see just how much you can take."
Spencer's hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Stay still for me.”
You nod, your breath catching as you feel him shift behind you. His fingers trace the curve of your back before gripping your hips again, positioning you just how he wants. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, your body thrumming with a mix of pleasure and need as you wait for his next move.
He takes his time, savoring the way you’re laid out before him. His hands run over your reddened skin, soothing the sting he’d so carefully crafted moments before. “You’re so perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
You can only whimper in response, your voice lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. You feel his fingers slide between your thighs, teasing you just enough to make you arch into his touch, desperate for more.
“Tell me what you need,” he commands, his voice deep and authoritative.
“You,” you gasp, barely able to form the words. “I need you, Spencer. Please.”
He chuckles softly, clearly satisfied with your response. “Good girl,” he praises, his fingers dipping inside you briefly, just enough to make you moan in frustration when he pulls back. “But I want to hear you beg for it.”
“Please,” you whimper, your body trembling with need. “Please, Spencer, I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”
Spencer’s breath hitches at your words, his resolve almost breaking. He leans over you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he aligns himself with you. “You’re going to feel every inch of me,” he promises, his voice low and rough. “And I’m not going to stop until you’re completely spent.”
You turn over again, letting your thighs fall open, giving him a full view of your soaked cunt. "Please, Spencer."
With that, he pushes into you slowly, savoring the way you gasp and arch beneath him. The sensation of him filling you is overwhelming, the mix of pleasure and the remnants of the stinging pain creating an intoxicating blend that has you crying out in pure bliss.
Spencer sets a rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips with enough force to leave marks, pulling you back to meet him with every movement. The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, the only other noise your combined moans and gasps of pleasure.
“Do you like this?” he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Do you like how I’m making you feel?”
“Yes,” you cry out, your voice breaking with the intensity of it all. “I love it, Spencer, I love you.”
He growls in response, his pace quickening as he drives you closer to the brink. The tension in your body coils tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap, and then, with one final, deep thrust, you’re thrown over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure so intense that you can’t help but scream his name.
“Who’s fucking you this good?” Spencer grunted, his hips slamming relentlessly against yours.
You replied with a noise just short of a scream, clinging to his biceps. He has you pretzeled underneath him, one leg slung around his hip, the other over his shoulder. The raw spots of your ass brush against his thighs with each thrust, each one a rush of excitement
He brought a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him through hooded eyes. “What’s my name, darling?” He asked, huffing as he kept his pace up.
“Spencer!” You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Your voice gave out soon after, little squeaks escaping as you chase your high.
He pulled away, panting. “Over. All fours.”
You obliged, turning and arching your back as he propped your hips up. He slid a pillow beneath you, gripping the corners to hold your hips up. You gripped the sheets, wailing as he pushed into you again. He pumps a few times before pulling your wrists to the small of your back, pulling you so you’re back to front with him.
“Spence,” you whined, eyes screwed shut.
He laughs, actually laughs. “What are you crying for, princess?” He says, his lips grazing against your ear. “I’m giving you what you want.”
Your head falls back and you sigh as his kisses begin to get heavier, teeth involved now. You hear his wet kissing noises grow until you feel his teeth sink into your skin. You yelp, hands begging to be freed but his grip tightens.
“Don’t make me get the tie,” he threatened lowly. “I don’t want to leave your pretty little cunt empty.”
You whimpered at his words. “Don't,” you begged quietly, feeling tears roll and drop onto your chest. “I can’t-“
Spencer stopped, bottomed out. “Or maybe I should.” He began to slide out of you, leaving just the tip inside. “Good girls deserve to get fucked, but you haven’t been a good girl, have you?”
“No, Spence. I haven’t.” The gravel in your tone makes your voice unfamiliar. “But please, I’ll do whatever you want me to- anything. Just please let me cum again.” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes. “Please.”
His eyes softened. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered back.
He watches your face scrunch up then relax in pleasure as you gasp when he fully enters inside you. His palms go to the part of your thighs below your knees. He forces them to open wider, rocking gently at first.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said softly.
You nod and take a deep breath. Another orgasm begins, your body going rigid as your breath catches in your throat. This time he lets you finish, letting your hands go. You catch yourself on the mattress, whining as you fuck yourself back onto him. He’s stopped moving, letting you use him as his hands roam over your back as he coats the inside of your walls with his own arousal. When you’re finished, you fall forward, his cock slipping out of you in the process.
You lay like that for a few seconds, ass in the air, catching your breath. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you beg him not to touch you for a moment. Your hand is in the air, palm flat. He respects your space, showering you in compliments and thank you's. You stop him when an apology leaves his lips.
“Don’t be,” you said, eyes still closed but your voice is firm.
You can hear him smile. “Can I touch you again?”
You nodded.
Without wasting another moment, Spencer propped you up by your hips again, spreading you with both hands. Spencer sighed at the sight of your cunt, his cum slowly dripping out of you. You flinched as he ran his thumb through your folds, swiping your clit in an up and down motion. You moaned at the feeling. The coil in your abdomen tightened and released in record time, your hands twisting in the sheets as you wailed out his name again.
You flipped over, legs on either side of him. He pulled you up against him, your ass again this chest.
He let go of your clit with a pop sound just to go back and suck it even harder. Your back arching as your mouth and throat were dry from all the moaning and crying, your grip on his hair becoming tighter. You let out one loud moan, your legs shaking and squeezing Spencer’s head between them. You feel a warm gush as he pulls away, marveling at the mess he’s made. His eyes are sparkling, jaw slack as he studied how your body reacted. He licked a swipe up your folds, catching everything he could on his tongue. He leans over you, opening your mouth. You let him, nodding as you placed your hand on the back of his neck. 
He spits the mixture of his and your cum into your mouth. You swallow it down, opening your mouth to prove that it’s gone. You collapse into the bed, sticky and fucked out. Spencer stands up, picking up his boxers from the floor before going to the bathroom. He returns a few minutes later with a warmed washcloth. He drapes it over your warm cunt before using it to wipe away any of tonight’s mess. A water bottle is pressed into your hand and you let it roll out of your palm. 
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, one hand cradling your head. 
You nod, finally opening your eyes. His hair is tousled, sticking to his forehead in some places. “I’m alright, Spencie.” 
He grinned. “I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
+++
The next morning, the BAU office was alive with the usual hustle, but the moment you walked in, the energy shifted. Your steps were slower than usual, each movement causing a slight grimace. As you made your way to your desk, every head turned, curiosity etched on the faces of your colleagues. You could feel the weight of their stares, but you were determined to play it cool. Sliding into your chair with a quiet hiss, you placed your jacket beneath you for some added cushion. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing.
Morgan, always the first to break the silence, leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. “Damn, girl, what happened to you? Looks like you went ten rounds in the ring.”
Emily shot you a teasing glance, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or, more likely, someone had a very intense evening.”
You gave them both a tired but amused look, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s just say I had an… interesting night. And I’m definitely feeling it this morning.”
Before anyone could press further, Spencer strolled into the bullpen, a noticeable spring in his step. He approached your desk with a smugness that only you could truly decipher, carrying a cup of coffee like it was a trophy. With a self-satisfied grin, he placed the cup in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Good morning, love,” he said, his voice laced with a warmth that made you both roll your eyes and smile.
“Morning,” you replied, reaching for the coffee, grateful for the momentary distraction.
But as Spencer straightened up, you noticed something that made your stomach flip—he had a shit-eating grin on his face. That was when it hit you: he was enjoying this. He knew exactly what the team was thinking, and he was reveling in it.
You watched him saunter over to his desk, pretending to be oblivious to the shocked whispers and side glances being exchanged across the room. But you knew better. That grin, the slight swagger in his walk—Spencer Reid was basking in the glory of his teammates’ surprise.
Morgan’s jaw dropped, and he pointed a finger at Spencer, then back at you. “Did you guys see that? I mean, I thought Reid was a little more- damn!”
Emily smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. “I did not see that coming. Who knew Spencer had it in him?”
JJ chuckled, giving you a look that was part admiration, part amusement. “Looks like there’s a lot we don’t know about Spencer.” She nodded, mouthing, we’ll talk about this later.
Rossi chimed in, a bemused expression on his face. “Well, you know what they say, it’s always the quiet ones.”
You glanced over at Spencer, who was now seated at his desk, diligently pretending to be engrossed in his paperwork. The grin on his face, however, betrayed his true feelings—he was thoroughly enjoying the attention, playing the part of the humble genius who just happened to surprise everyone.
But you weren’t going to let him off that easy. No, Spencer Reid was going to pay for that smug grin, just not today. And probably not tomorrow. You needed to recover first, but in a few days… oh, you were going to give him his. And it would be worth the wait.
1K notes · View notes
rumplereids · 4 months ago
Text
shining light.
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !
Tumblr media
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Hello?”
“Hello, are you okay?”
“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”
“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”
“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”
“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”
“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”
There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.
“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”
“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”
“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”
“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”
“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”
“It’s a baby sister.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”
“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.
“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”
“Okay.”
Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.
Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?
“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.
“Where is she? Is she okay?”
“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.
“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”
“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”
“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.
“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”
“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.
He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.
“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”
“The weird black and white one?”
“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”
“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”
“Did she hurt mommy?”
“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”
“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”
“Yeah? You did?”
“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”
Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”
“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.
A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”
Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.
“Yes, I’m her husband.”
“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.
“How’s my wife?”
“How’s mommy?”
Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.
“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”
Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”
“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.
Short legs run to her favorite uncle.
“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”
Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”
“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.
The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”
“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.
“I want pretzels.”
“Salted? Cheese?”
“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”
Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.
“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.
“Pinky promise?”
“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”
Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”
Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”
“What does cre-den-shals mean?”
Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.
taglist: @i-live-in-spite
2K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 21 days ago
Text
blue ribbon | s.r.
Tumblr media
in which you and Spencer dedicate yourselves to helping your daughter with the best baking soda volcano the science fair has ever seen
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: chemist!reader, misuse of lab equipment i don't care, their daughter is very girly, glitter word count: 1.46k a/n: ending the post margotober drought with the very first margovember request!!! i promise i'm working on masterlists but for some reason they're exhausting.
Tumblr media
“Why do I have to walk backward?” You grumble while trying to balance the end of the plywood on your knee, pulling at your badge reel to unlock the lab door.
Spencer nods his head in the direction of the keypad, “That would be why.”
Rolling your eyes, you push the door handle down with your elbow before pushing the door open with your foot, shuffling your feet. “Honey, can you turn the lights on?”
Lifting herself up on her tiptoes, your daughter flips all of the switches on the panel, cringing at the bright fluorescent lights.
Together, you and Spencer hoist the science project onto one of the lab tables, careful not to knock anything over as the papier-mâché volcano rests in your professional lab.
You and Leah had stayed up until eleven last night finishing the last coat of paint, even entertaining a visit from her Aunt Penelope so that the finished project could have a fine dusting of glitter all over it. Your dining room was now permanently sparkly, but the look on your daughter’s face when she saw the finished project made the mess entirely worth it.
Spencer steps to grab your jugs of white vinegar from the car, propping the door open so he can bring the supplies for the baking soda volcano in.
Obviously, you weren’t going to use the full-size volcano now, but Leah had refused to travel without it and Spencer believes that saying no to her is an impossible task. “Mommy?” The little girl pipes up, playing with the stirring rod that you had just set in front of her.
“What’s up?” You ask, leaning your hip against the counter, gently reaching out and adjusting the bows adorning her pigtails that you’d put in her hair that morning.
She looks over at the wall, minding each of the posters that line your laboratory, “What is that?”
You follow her finger to see what she’s pointing at, smiling softly, “It’s the periodic table.”
Humming thoughtfully, Leah sets the stirring rod down and walks over to the poster, “It looks like the one at home.”
Nodding, you get a step stool out for her to stand on, “They’re the same poster, the one we have at home is just a lot smaller than the one I keep at work.” You explain to her, knowing she’s talking about the poster you keep in your home office. “Come on baby, let’s go get you a lab coat.”
Setting a hand on her shoulder, you guide her to the storeroom, “Woah,” she breathes. It’s not a positive reaction, her eyes flitter all around the room, a mess of lab coats and goggles.
“Okay,” you say, shoving your way through the space until you find your locker, pulling out your lab coat, as well as safety glasses for the whole family. Holding a coat up to her and having her pull it on, you put your own lab coat on before looking back to find your five-year-old drowning in polyester. Laughing slightly, you adjust the lapels of her jacket, “How does it feel?”
Leah looks down at herself, “Cool!” She exclaims beaming up at you and giving you two thumbs up. She skips out of the closet and heads back to her volcano, almost tripping over the extra fabric of the lab coat, but Spencer grabs her arm before her knees can hit the linoleum.
He smiles at her, “Are you okay?” Helping her adjust her coat, he kneels down to her.
“Daddy,” she cheers, completely ignoring his question for the sake of being five years old, “Look at my coat!”
Smoothing her hair back, Spencer’s eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back to Leah, “You look like mommy.”
In a fit of giggles, he scoops her up in his arms in an attempt to avoid a tripping hazard, but she just thinks it’s fun. He sets her down feet-first on the step stool you had gotten out for her.
“Here,” you say, handing him a lab coat for him to wear and setting the safety goggles you’d gathered on the countertop.
When your daughter came home in tears because she felt like she had been assigned the ‘most boringest’ project for the science fair, you and Spencer quickly decided that you’d try everything to make her baking soda volcano exciting. At the very least, you’d work together to make sure she has fun.
Leah puts her goggles on and looks up at you for her next instruction, watching you divide the baking soda and white vinegar into separate beakers, “So, what will happen when we add these two together?” Spencer quizzes, watching you make careful portions.
“It’s gonna fizz up!” She responds correctly, bouncing on her feet while you gently push the first two dishes in front of her.
You nod, “You can pour the white vinegar into the baking soda,” You nudge her gently, knowing that you measured just enough to reach the top of the beaker, but not enough to flow onto the counter.
She uses both hands to grip the beaker and pour the liquid out, and the immediate reaction surprises her so much that Spencer holds an arm out to keep her upright. He trains his eyes on her amazement as the foam dissipates and the water and sodium acetate are left in the glass. “Can I drink it?” She asks, frowning up at her dad.
“No,” you both answer immediately, a sort of parental reflex. If you don’t answer quickly enough, odds are she’d pick it up and try anyway.
Disappointed, her frown remains on her face while her eyes return to the countertop, timidly, she tugs on Spencer’s lab coat, prompting him to crouch down to her eye level, “What’s wrong, lovey?”
Her eyes nervously look around the lab, eyeing some of the cabinets before she takes a deep breath, “Can we make it pink?”
“The foam?” Spencer says curiously, eyes flickering up at you while you nod frantically, already thinking up options so that you could further individualize your daughter’s glitter volcano.
She rocks back and forth, “Can we?”
As soon as Spencer says yes, it’s like a hold on you has been released, unlocking some of the cabinets so you can grab more supplies from around the lab, you return to the station with an armful of things to try, and Spencer mutters something to Leah about you being a mad scientist, leading you to maturely stick your tongue out at him.
You set up four options, taking photos as you go so you can paste them onto her presentation board. The first one is just baking soda, but you added a touch of dish soap to the vinegar. The increase in bubbles seems to greatly please Leah, so you decide as a team that the final product should have dish soap in it.
The second one has manganese sulfate mixed into the baking soda, and if the pink salt altered the color of the foam at all, it doesn’t impress your perfectionist daughter.
The third one includes phenolphthalein, which you think has some real potential, based on the way Leah’s eyes widen at the sight of it combined with the vinegar. The liquid was almost a fuchsia color, and she gasps when she pours it in to find that the foam is white, “It’s gone?”
You nod, “The phenolphthalein when it’s in the vinegar is pink because it’s an acid, but as soon as you add the baking soda it becomes a basic solution, so…” Your voice trails off when Spencer starts shaking his head, and you look down to find that you have completely lost Leah’s attention. Instead of listening, she’s trying to pronounce phenolphthalein, tracing the letters on the black countertop.
“What do you have next?” Spencer asks, eyeing the tiny dropper bottle in front of you.
Picking it up, you drop some of it into the vinegar and hand it to Leah, “It’s food coloring.”
His eyebrows furrow, “Why do you have food coloring in the lab?”
You wrinkle your nose at him, the expression makes Leah giggle, “Mind your business.”
As a family, you watch the chemical reaction, the white of the foam mixing with the red food coloring to create the desired pink lava. “Oh,” your daughter says softly, “Thank you, mommy!”
Beaming down at her, you place your hands on your hips and sigh, “If you’d like, we can add glitter to the baking soda too.”
Wide eyes look up at you in amazement, brown eyes inherited from her father, “I love science,” she whispers.
Behind her back, you hold your hand out for Spencer, exchanging a silent fist bump—a quiet celebration between two scientists.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
797 notes · View notes
reidswhre · 4 months ago
Text
can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader
Tumblr media
summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.
warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!
a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘
Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.
Except for Spencer.
Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.
Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.
“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.
You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.
“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.
“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.
Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."
"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.
"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.
Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.
"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.
"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.
"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.
You groaned and rested your head on the desk.
After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.
"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.
Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.
"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.
Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.
"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.
"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.
"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.
Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.
"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.
Second attempt.
You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.
"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.
"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.
"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"
"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.
You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!
"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.
"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.
"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.
You sighed.
Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.
You sighed again.
Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.
Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.
After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.
"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.
"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.
"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.
Great, now he was starting to notice things.
"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.
"About what?" he asked.
"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.
"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.
"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"
Awesome.
Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.
Double awesome.
"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.
"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"
Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"
"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.
"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."
"Of course you are!" You laughed.
"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."
"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.
"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.
"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.
"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.
"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.
Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.
Awesome.
You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.
Triple awesome.
Take that, silly mental scoreboard.
1K notes · View notes
benevolentbones · 5 months ago
Note
Hi ✨️✨️
Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.
your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader
Tumblr media
warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting
word count: 1.7k
a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3
half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.
emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.
“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.
“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.
“reid, you in?”
spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.
“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.
“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.
“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.
“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.
“but-“
“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”
spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.
“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.
“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.
emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.
“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.
everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.
“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.
she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”
“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.
“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.
spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.
“y/n!”
you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.
“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.
“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.
“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.
“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.
“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.
derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.
“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.
“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.
you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.
“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.
“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.
“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.
emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.
“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.
“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.
“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”
“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.
you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.
“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.
“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.
you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.
spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.
he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.
finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.
“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.
he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.
“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.
“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.
“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.
“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.
“a-and do you like being a bartender?”
you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.
“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.
“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.
“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.
“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.
“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.
you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”
“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.
your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.
“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.
“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.
you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.
“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.
“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.
you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.
“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.
“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.
your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.
“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.
taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid
1K notes · View notes
cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago
Text
Dead of Night - Spencer Reid
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer stumbles upon a secret dark fantasy of reader’s and does everything he can to be the one to fulfill it.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written anything with themes like this so feedback is definitely appreciated. Not proofread cuz this is long and I’m tired ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I fully understand if the themes included in this are not for some of my regular readers and I encourage you to scroll if you’re not comfortable with any of the following warnings.
TW: perv!spencer, dom!spencer, mask kink, knife play, blood, dubcon, kind of cnc but it’s emphasized repeatedly that reader initiates and is in control of what is taking place, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie, degradation (slut), pet names (doll, angel) religious imagery, gun mention, std testing mention, fem + afab reader, soulmate talk
Rating: R, 18+
——
You knew it was wrong, you’d seen just how easily Penelope was able to track someone down through their “anonymous” profile on websites just like this one, but your desires got the better of you, and you just had to try.
Your profile was nondescript, your age, a vague physical description of yourself, and a link to a meticulously detailed account of your wildest fantasies. After weeks of back and forth, chatting with a few equally nondescript profiles, you found the one that you really clicked with, the stranger you decided you’d let sneak into your window and do whatever he wanted with you. After an std panel and the agreement of your safe word, you decided to fully commit, sending this complete stranger your address and logging off for the night.
Even though you knew this was a stupid idea, you weren’t a complete idiot, you had plans in case anything went south, including placing your handgun in your bedside table for easy access if you, god-forbid, had to use it. Placing yourself in a high-risk situation was the whole point, and you couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.
You spent the remainder of your afternoon preparing, doing every grooming ritual you’d usually do before a date, but this time felt somehow more important. You didn’t even know what this guy looked like, and yet, you wanted to be the picture of beauty for him. It was silly, but you always pictured yourself the prettiest you’d ever been when you daydreamed about being ravaged by a stranger. You wanted to be completely irresistible in every way, and you were doing everything in your power to accomplish that.
As the sun finally set, your excitement levels began to rise, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your masked suitor. You opened the bedroom window just above your fire escape, the cool night air drawing goosebumps over your exposed skin, only a thin lace slip and matching panties adorning your frame. You crawled into bed, double checking your bedside drawer before pulling your comforter over your body, eagerly drifting off to sleep.
Spencer had been keeping a secret, one that he did not want you to know about, until today. A few weeks ago he’d stayed late to finish up some paperwork for the last case you’d been on, when his pen ran out of ink just as he was about to sign off the last document. He walked to your empty desk, reaching across it to grab a pen from the cup next to your monitor, when his arm brushed against your mouse, causing your display to light up.
He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the best of him, scanning through the title of each tab open on your browser until a certain website caught his eye. He went against his better judgment and clicked the tab, his jaw dropping upon viewing your profile, and with it, the graphic description of your sexual proclivities. His brain immediately cemented that information in his mind’s eye, fit to torture him for days after the encounter.
He couldn’t stop picturing himself fulfilling all of those desires for you, having to excuse himself to the bathroom several times a day to take care of the bulge in his pants just from being around you. He eventually bit the bullet, creating his own profile on the website and messaging you as an “anonymous” suitor, beyond pleased when the two of you hit it off. He felt bad not telling you, but this was a means to an end that would surely leave you both satisfied, and the devious part of him won out this time.
He did everything you asked, getting tested so he could fuck you raw, he was apprehensive about the risks of a potential pregnancy even without the fear of std transmission, but the way you begged so beautifully in your messages for him to creampie you was more than enough to convince him. The moment he got your message with your address, he went out and purchased a mask to conceal his identity just like you asked, and anxiously waited for nightfall.
The graze of fabric against your skin gently woke you as your bedding was pulled down off of your body, your mind clouded from the deep sleep you’d been sunk in seconds before. You rolled onto your back, starting to lift your head until a large hand clamped over your mouth, forcing your head back down onto your pillow. Your eyes widened, darting around the room before settling on the masked figure on top of you. You tried to scream against his palm, but the sound simply reverberated back against you, muffled by his strong grip.
His free hand made quick work of cutting off your slip, the thin fabric splitting easily against the blade of the knife in his grasp. You struggled underneath him, weakly pushing at his strong shoulders, feigning defense as the heartbeat in your cunt grew stronger by the second. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening, the adrenaline coursing through your veins making you feel almost high.
“Don’t fight it.” He hushed, holding the knife flush against your neck. You slowed your movements, settling for shifting your legs against his. He removed his hand from your mouth, freeing it up to gather your hands to pin them above your head as well as give you an opportunity to use your safe-word if need be.
He trailed the knife down your body, your chest heaving with shaky breaths as the blade scratched a small cut between your breasts, warm droplets of blood forming in it’s wake. He followed the curve of your body, leaving shallow kitten scratches until he reached your hip, using the tip of the knife to carve a heart into your skin. The sting of each movement set every nerve ending in your body on fire, the wetness pooling between your thighs increasing by the second.
He pressed his thumb to the wound, smearing the blood down to the waistband of your panties, using the digit to pull the fabric before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped, your labored breaths growing more desperate as he brought the blade to slice the fabric, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt.
“Look at how wet you are, you love this, don’t you?” The condescension in his tone felt almost half-hearted, and the more of his voice you heard, the more familiar he started to sound, but you couldn’t quite place why. You looked down at him, watching his every move as you tried to place him.
He set the knife on the bed, using his now free hand to yank his pants down, his hard cock slapping against his thigh. Your eyes went wide at his size, looking just long and thick enough to have you a little worried about being able to take him raw, but the thought of being stretched to your limits sent another wave of arousal straight to your core and helped quell that fear ever so slightly.
“If you don’t want this, just say the word.” His words dripped from his lips like honey, sickly sweet, and in that moment you had never felt more sure of your desire for anything in your life.
Spencer wondered if the way he was feeling was akin to that of religious psychosis, so engulfed in your very being that he ought to worship at your altar for the rest of his life, fit to carry out any act you requested of him.
His brain kept your description of your fantasy scrolling in the back of his mind, catering to everything you had written to a T in hopes of making this a night you’d never forget. The only thing at the forefront of his thoughts, however, was the intoxicating sounds you made every time he gripped or marked your skin. Each note sought to pull his focus, threatening his plan as it tempted him to lose control all together. He couldn’t do that, his conscience too righteous in its goal to keep you as pleased as possible.
He took his time, marking you just the way you’d requested, his cock twitching with every whimper that flowed out of you until he finally reached your core, the lace of your underwear glistening under the moonlight cast through your open window from how wet you were. He wanted to sink fully into you without a care in the world, but he had to make sure this was absolutely what you wanted. He was, to your knowledge, a stranger after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be uncomfortable in any way.
You frantically shook your head in acknowledgment, spreading your legs wider for him, ready for this tall stranger to finally be inside of you. Your eagerness spurred him on, a surge of confidence washing over him as he let go of your wrists, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you further down the bed. He lifted your legs so your knees rested atop his shoulders, his rough movements making you gasp.
He brought his cock to your core, running the shaft through your slick folds before slapping the head against your clit a few times, the repeated hits making your hips jolt ever so slightly. He hummed low in the back of his throat, lining up his tip with your entrance before thrusting forward, bottoming out inside of you in one fell swoop.
“You’re so tight.” He grunted, one hand holding an iron grip on your thigh to hold your leg up, the other digging fingerprints into your hip. You gasped once more at the intrusion, feeling more full than ever before as he set a steady but unrelenting pace. Your gasp turned to crying moans, brows furrowed in awe at the way his cock stretched you so deliciously, prominent veins rubbing against the contours of your sensitive walls.
Each snap of his hips had his balls slapping against your ass, the lude sound mixing with his grunts and the wet squelching where your bodies met in the most intimate way, the decibel level in the room reaching an all-time high.
You bit your lip, trying to quiet yourself to at least somewhat lower the noise and not disturb your sleeping neighbors, but the absence of your desperate moans was not lost on him. His pace slowed, his left hand firmly gripping your chin to force you to look at his masked face. His eyes met yours through the thin slit in the dark fabric.
You knew those eyes, those big, soft brown irises, so comforting, yet darker than you recognized, pupils far more blown than you’d ever seen before. You knew him, but there was no way. Your mind must have been playing tricks on you, because there was no way that Spencer Reid would do anything this perverse, let alone with you.
“Louder, slut.” He squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lower lip out from under your bite.
“I-I’m not a slut.” You mumbled, barely above a whisper.
“Only a slut would leave her bedroom window open, practically begging a stranger to come in and fuck her.” This was far too brazen to be Spencer, you thought, a level of blunt confidence you’d never in a million years expect from him.
“I-I didn’t mean to.” You stuttered over your words, raising your voice in an attempt to half heartedly defend your actions.
“Well then, you should really be more careful next time.” He laughed, releasing his grip on your face before playfully slapping your cheek and increasing the pace of his thrusts, his now free hand finding your clit. His calloused thumb drew broad strokes over and over and over against your sensitive bundle of nerves, a knot tightening in your stomach as you drew closer and closer to your release. You turned your head, trying to bury your face in the pillow as you writhed underneath him, your body frantically looking for relief.
“Oh don’t be shy doll, let me see how much you’re enjoying this.” His tone was almost sing-song, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were. He pressed his body down closer to yours, almost pinning your thighs against your stomach, the change in angle forcing a borderline scream from your lungs, crying out strangled ‘uh’s with every stroke. You looked him in the eye, desperate to know if this deity above you could possibly be your nerdy coworker, and every interaction you’d had with him flashed before your eyes.
Every fleeting glance he took at your chest or your ass, the way he lingered behind you in the field, feeling his presence even when you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t think of a time he wasn’t around a corner when you turned it, always near whenever you needed his help on a case. You always secretly hoped he'd make a move sooner or later, but you never thought it would be anything like this.
He was omnipotent, knowing exactly how to make you feel things you’d never felt before, pushing your body to levels of pleasure you never thought possible. You thought you might disappear, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to make sense of everything, finally understanding why the French refer to orgasms as the little death.
Your walls fluttered around him, the sounds leaving you reduced to pathetic whimpers as your vocal chords grew strained.
“That’s it, cum on my cock, angel.” He groaned, his thrusts growing increasingly desperate. The pet name surprised you, but if he saw you as an angel, how fitting considering how godlike he felt to you in that moment. You could tell he was close, and if your orgasm was what would get him to cum inside you, then so be it. Your eyes glazed over, your hands clawing at his back as you chanted ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ like a mantra, wave after wave of euphoria washing over every nerve in your body.
Spencer was a man possessed, his primal urges leaving his mind completely uninhibited, so lost in your body that he thought he might need divine intervention to ever leave you.
He didn’t quite understand where the sudden dominant urge coursing through his veins had come from, but he didn’t care to dwell too much on the thought, content to fuck you into the mattress until you screamed his name.
He knew that wouldn’t happen, but he secretly hoped you’d realize who he was, wishing for nothing more than for you to want him for him. His heart felt like it may burst at the thought, the desire to be wanted as he was ever-lingering inside of it, that being the very motivation behind his lingering tendencies from the start.
As your heat contracted around him, he felt an embrace like no other, hoping the myth of twin flames to be true. If this connection wasn’t proof of it, how could he rationally explain anything? He knew the scientific reasoning behind it, but it didn’t feel like enough, such a finite explanation for a feeling so sempiternal.
He wondered if you felt the same way too, so lost in his every desire that he let himself dive into the delusion, using the pet name he wished he could call you every day for eternity.
Your chants and cries as you came set him free, his hips stuttering as he finally filled your aching cunt to the brim with his seed. He hovered above you, catching his breath, watching your expression soften as you rode out your orgasm, practically glowing.
When he finally snapped out of his lust-fueled haze, he fully remembered his role, pulling out of you and quickly scrambling to stand, fixing his pants and underwear. You had agreed to his departure after, and as badly as he wanted to hold you until you drifted off to sleep, he respected your wishes more than his wants. He walked to the window, lifting his leg to climb out of it when you cleared your throat, drawing his attention. He turned, seeing you sit up, hazy smile on your face.
“Thank you.” You sighed, and he gave a nod of acknowledgement before slipping out of the window and into the night.
When you awoke, you had a couple minutes of doubt in which you thought the events of the night before had all been a dream, until you moved to get out of bed and winced at sting from the shallow marks adorning your body and the dull ache between your legs. You smiled to yourself, before looking at your phone and realizing what time it was. You were going to be late, and panic set in when you realized you’d have to go to work in the makeup you’d fallen asleep in last night.
You rushed out the door, checking your makeup in a compact mirror in your car, wiping a small bit of smudged mascara off of your brow bone before walking into work.
“Fun night?” Derek quipped as you walked through the doors, always the first to poke fun at your perceived escapades.
“You could say that.” You laughed, setting your handbag on your desk before joining the team to walk to the conference room.
“What happened?” Penelope asked, almost panicked, taking your arm in her hand and pointing to the only visible cut on your body.
“Oh that’s nothing, I just scraped my arm on my car door.” You reassured, smiling at her. As much as you loved your best friend, she didn’t need to know the truth of your little white lie.
“You should really be more careful next time.” Spencer’s voice came from behind you, his hand gently resting on your hip before squeezing right where the heart shaped cut from the night before was inlaid in your skin. His words reverberated in the space between your ears as your brain processed what he’d just said.
Realization hit you like a semi truck, your lips parting in shock. Your suspicions had been correct, and you almost wanted to turn around and kiss then interrogate him right there. You couldn’t do that though, having a full work day in front of both of you.
Now you just had to figure out a time and place to broach the subject with him without completely humiliating yourself.
——
part 2 can be found here
tag list: @pleasantwitchgarden @lover-of-books-and-tea
DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)
1K notes · View notes
softzindagi · 6 months ago
Text
see the problem with reading amazing polin fic is the fic is always ALWAYS better than the show. I’m obsessed.
so here are some of my recent favs if you all wanna read them:
Ruin by Sea_Dragonfly (Penelope gets caught with a suitor and Colin comes to save her from her ruin. )
Attachment by lixabiz (A take in the season synopsis, Colin helps Penelope with finding a husband.)
Affection by lixabiz (post Season 2, Colin grovels for Penelope’s forgiveness after she never responds to his many letters.)
Making It Up As We Go Along by LazyTuesdayMorning (Penelope gets stuck in a rainstorm on the way to Aubrey Hall and Colin finds her.)
The Temptation of one Penelope Featherington... by LazyTuesdayMorning (Penelope is staying at Aubrey Hall with the Bridgertons in the off season. Passion ensues.)
edit: new ones below from original post
Thus Will Shine The Dawn by bluemountainbayou (podt season 2, Penelope is attacked in Mayfair and Colin is faced with the very real possibility that he could have lost her.)
Discovering Duty by annasometimeswrites (post season 2, Colin comes back from abroad to a sadder and angrier Penelope. Scandal ensues when Colin follows a drunk Penelope back to her room and someone sees.)
among the wildflowers by talkfast (short marriage of convenience with no mention of whistledown.)
Call Off Your Ghost by Trisky107 (Another post Season 2 fic, where Pen asks Colin to let go of her so she can move on.)
Dancing Around the Truth by WeepingFromACedarTree (A sick fic, Colin takes care of Penelope when the season ends and neither family is there for the off season.)
You Are The Only Thing In Any Room You’re Ever In by gowingowingone ( Post Season 2 fic, where Colin comes home and slowly realizes his feelings for Penelope after she stops answering his letters.)
The Rules of Propriety by romanticblossom (Synopsis of Season 3 based, Colin is faced with the fact that everyone knows what he said about Penelope at her mother’s ball, months after the fact. He resolves to help her, but honor comes in the way when he kisses her, quite unexpectedly.)
One Single Thread of Pink (Tied Me to You) by wasteddarlinglover (Penelope can see the string of fates, a gift to most feels like a curse.)
Freeing You by jentothenuh (Colin and Penelope have been married for two years, which was arranged, and Penelope asks for a Divorce.)
By Tomorrow’s Light (You Will Not See My Face) by lindsey_grissom (A fix it fic for season 3, Penelope does tell Colin she’s Whistledown at their engagement ball before running away.)
These were all fantastic, all are regency era. Please go and read and leave comments!
2K notes · View notes
mockerycrow · 1 year ago
Note
I’ve been toying with the lovely idea that the 141 boys have their own Penelope Garcia (from Criminal Minds) who is just their little ray of light, just so cute 🥰
!!gn!reader!! — can be read as platonic or romantic
Whilst sitting at your desk of your many monitors, your radio began to pick up chatter which meant the team was trying to make contact. You immediately pick up your headphones and angle your microphone, hearing the last of Price’s sentence. “—ending you a file now.”
You hum into the microphone and scoot your chair towards one of your many keyboards. “Only caught the last part, Cap’. A file you said?” You ask, typing up a password before a chat log opens up. “Yes, we need you to look into the source code, lookin’ for anythin’ that makes sense, love.”
You quickly receive a file and run it through a scanner app you developed yourself as well as a decryption app in case it was protected with extra measures. “Mm, I love hide and go seek. Running it through now, sir.” You respond with an obvious grin in your voice. You hear Soap laugh through the radio. “Let us hear it when it’s done, aye?”
Your lips twitch from his voice, your eyes glued to a screen as you twiddle with a pen. “Anything for you, Suds.” Which earns you a belly laugh from the man and a groan from Price. Your screen pops up a couple of images as it popped through the encryption. “Mm, alright searching now….” A few more seconds before another window pops up. “Santa Fe,” You call out. “Only one that scans like an actual word.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” You hear Ghost rumble, and you can’t resist the shit eating grin. “Do I get a reward?” You can’t resist making the joke, popping a candy into your mouth from a bowl on your desk. “When we get back, I’ll buy ya dinner.” Gaz offers, making you clutch your chest and playfully groan. “My dream man! Safe travels, yeah?”
3K notes · View notes