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rebeccccccaaa · 7 months ago

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Poker Face!

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Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

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“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around.

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him.

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide.

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach.

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans.

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained.

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles.

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested.

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.”

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped.

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice.

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope.

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter.

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say.

“Strip Poker!”

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup.

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said.

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely.

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you.

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent.

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched.

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow.

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again.

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat.

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly.

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can.

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded.

A five. Fuck.

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him.

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts.

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost.

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards.

“Blackjack, baby!”

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering.

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment.

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered.

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face.

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue.

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath.

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear.

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him.

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully.

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek.

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him.

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort.

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you.

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully.

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment.

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey.

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers.

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you.

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you.

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly.

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully.

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly.

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed.

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever.

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webbluvrsugar · 3 months ago

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Spencer finally gets back from prison, first thing he does is go and see shy!reader.

cw: tiny angst with fluff, fools in love.

You didn’t know Spencer was out. He didn’t tell you, — which is weird considering you thought you were finally making progress when he started sending you letters — the team didn’t tell you, not even Garcia, you only knew he was out when he came to your house and knocked on your door. Two knocks. It was familiar, only he knocked that way, but it could be a miss understanding, at least that’s what could’ve been if he wasn’t standing right in front of you when you opened the door.

You thought you were hallucinating, fair for an FBI agent, but you weren’t, he was standing right in front of you, face still roughed up, brows slightly furrowing when he saw you.

“I know I didn’t — tell… I was coming, or that I was even out, and I’m sorry.” His voice is low, no longer as hushed as it was when you went to visit him, you feel like you can’t breathe for a single moment because… he really is here.

You stay silent for a while, his eyes roam over you, it’s late at night, you’re wearing a fluffy oversized sweater, white slippers and your hair lightly messed up, he can’t help but just think of how much he missed you, how pretty you look even now.

“Can I come in?” He asks, almost pleading, wide eyes staring into yours.

You nod, finally taking a breath, stepping to the side as he comes in. He closes the door behind him and you sit down on the couch, he remembers your apartment, small but cozy, still neat as the first time he ‘slept’ here, it makes him want to go back to make it up to you.

“I know I was a dick, didn’t write, didn’t.. respond to your letters, didn’t tell you I was out but —“ he sighs, slightly approaching you further. “I didn’t mean any of it, it was rough and I —“ he tries to finish, you cut him off.

“Spencer.” Your voice echoes through his ears like a hum, makes his shoulders slightly relax, makes him feel more relaxed.

“Yeah?” He answers, his eyes going away from yours.

“It’s fine.” You reassure. Yes, you may have been a little hurt, but he’s hurt more in there, you don’t know the things he’s gone through, you can’t blame him for any of his behaviour even with how rude it was. “Do you — want.. coffee?”

“Tea.” He chuckles.

“Tea?” You ask and he nods, maybe he needs the peace way more than he needs the energy. “Okay.”

So you stand and brew him the tea, grabbing the mug with both hands before blowing softly on it, handing it to him. This is more than he ever could ask for, and he wants to thank you for the hospitality, for the way you don’t judge him, for the way you’re so nice. He doesn’t need to say it, you can see it in his eyes.

He appreciates it all.

And he especially appreciates the way you welcome him into your bed as if nothing has passed between you.

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deepcreekvultures-writing · 5 months ago

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"Stellar Collision"

Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 8.2k

Content Warning: Mild injury, Description of injury, Smut, Fingering (F receiving), Penetrative Sex, Using Astronomy as a Plot Device

A/N: Please ignore any inaccuracies with the scientific stuff and the smut- I'm just silly and Asexual. I picture this as late season 4 Spencer, but you can picture whatever Spencer you want bbg.

Summary: Everyone knows you and Spencer Reid work well together- actually, the entire team thinks you two are the most oblivious profilers to ever work for the FBI, but c'est la vie- they figure you'll crash into each other eventually.

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Shaking the hand of the lead detective you introduce yourself before gesturing to Spencer who hovers behind you, “... and this is Agent Weirdly Sticky, a.k.a. Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Spencer’s face scrunches in an odd fusion of disgust, confusion, and amusement. He fights off the laugh that bubbles up and just lifts his hand in an awkward wave. Pressing his lips into a thin line to avoid the smile threatening to break out on his face. JJ elbows you in the ribs, earning a small ‘oomph’ as she pushes you aside.

It had become routine at this point, calling him weird names to break the tension between the team and locals. Spencer’s hands rest on your shoulders to steady you as JJ takes over the conversation. You chuckle, following an officer into the precinct conference room to get everything set up. Hotch doesn’t say anything about your antics for once, resigning to just accept that there was no stopping you.

“You really need to stop doing that, they’re going to think you don’t take things seriously.” Spencer mutters to you quietly, his hip lightly bumping into yours as the two of you stick photos onto the provided whiteboard.

“Yeah, maybe, but their face is worth it. It’s like they think federal agents can’t joke, so at first they believe me.” You giggle, sliding your hand around his waist, unceremoniously picking him up and pivoting him around you. You swap places with him quickly to tack a few pieces of evidence to the board.

Spencer lets it happen, not offering any help as you move him. Not that you need it, you were more than strong enough. “But “Agent Weirdly Sticky”? They’re going to think I don’t shower or something.”

You laugh, “At least they won’t try and touch you.” Looking at the board, you tilt your head a little. “The handwriting in each of these is so similar but look-” You point at two series of numbers, “one writes their seven with a dash, and the other doesn’t.”

Spencer leans forward to look at it, his eyes squinting as his mouth drops open in focus.

“I swear you need to start wearing your glasses again.” You snort, reaching out and placing your fingers under his chin to push his jaw closed.

He bats your hand away, “Glasses obstruct my peripherals.”

“But you look cute with them.” You argue, sliding to stand behind him, “I miss them.”

Flattening your hands, you place them on either side of his head, blocking his peripherals. He ignores you, trying to focus on the pages in front of him rather than the warmth radiating off of your palms. Only moving when his phone rings, you drop them on his shoulders, turning him a little so you could grab his phone from his front pocket.

“Hey Garcia, what’s up?” You greet, “...yeah, it’s me, what do you have for us?”

The investigation continues like that, the two of you revolving around each other, splitting up only when necessary, bouncing profiles off of the other.

Everyone knew you worked well together. Spencer was comfortable around you, not as stiff and one track minded as he would be working alone. He turned to you for most things, and sometimes when working through things in his mind he would just stare at you- Managing to find most of his answers in the curve of your nose and the color of your lips.

You mellowed out around Spencer, his ramblings filling empty spaces almost like a living white noise machine. It was hard for most people to believe how abrasive and short fused you could be working alone. Irritation ran rampant with local PD getting in the way, suspects being difficult, media running with half baked stories; whenever the tension in your jaw threatened to spring into a full on rage, Spencer was always there.

“You’re telling me you released the profile to the press even though we specifically told you not to?” Your eyebrows raise, hands pushing your sleeves up to your elbows.

“The public needs to know what they’re dealing with.” The detective crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin in challenge.

“Yeah? Well now our Unsub knows exactly what to change to avoid us, this guy is smart and he is watching.” Your voice raises slightly, shoulders squaring as you step chest to chest with the man. “From this point on, you release nothing to the press without approval from our Liaison or SSA Hotchner.”

The detective snorts, shaking his head, “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”

Spencer instinctively reaches out, hooking his finger around your belt loop. He tugs you backwards, putting space between you and the focal point of your mounting rage. You don’t relax, but you let him pull you back.

“I’m the woman who’s gonna punch a hole through your spinal cord.” Your tone is icy, and he can almost hear your jaw pop from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. Spencer keeps his finger hooked on your belt loop, cringing slightly at the threat.

It’s not that he disagrees with you, it was out of line for them to release a statement to the public without the team’s permission; and it’s not that he thinks you can’t back up your statement, he is well aware that you can. Spencer just didn’t want you to get suspended for assaulting an officer. Again.

Hotch approaches, stepping between you and the detective, and- to your relief- backs you up.

“If you release anything more to the public you can consider that little boy as good as gone. If you want us to be able to catch the unsub before it’s too late, it’ll do you well to listen to my agents.” His sharp gaze lingers on the man’s face before he turns to you, “Go cool off, and stop threatening people.”

You nod and turn to leave, missing the small tilt of Hotch’s head, gesturing for Spencer to go with. He obliges, quickly rushing after you.

Pacing around in the conference room, you keep your arms folded, chewing on the nail of your thumb.

“Sit.” Spencer pulls out one of the chairs, and you follow his instruction. Having gone through this routine again and again, you move a few stacks of papers, opening up a space for him to sit on the table’s glossy surface.

“I was reading up on star systems, and typically stars will orbit around each other in small or large groups- but most are trinary with only three stars…” Spencer hops up onto the table, crossing his legs under himself. He settles into his position, leaning his arms on his legs as he watches your face.

He can tell by the way your head tilts that you’re listening, unconsciously bringing your ear closer to him. Folding your arms across your chest again, you roll your jaw to relieve the tension from the joint. He pays attention to your demeanor, watching the pressure between your eyes melt away. Crossing your legs, you tilt your hips, turning your body to face him though your gaze stays cast to the floor. Spencer responds by unfolding his legs, stretching them out to rest his feet on the apex of your thigh.

Hands finding their way to the laces of his converse, you untie and retie them as his melodic droning fills the room. You keep yourself from looking at him, wanting to hold onto your anger for just a little longer. Spencer knows that you would’ve stewed in your fury for hours alone- and it seemed that Hotch knew the same.

“... but then you have star systems that are just two stars- a binary system. The Sirius star system is the most well known, but Sirius A is a lot bigger than Sirius B. Sirius B is a white dwarf- which has around the same mass as our sun but condensed into a star not much bigger than the earth.”

“Without the extra gravity from another star like in trinary systems… Do binary stars collide a lot?” You ask and Spencer beams, happy that you were finally relaxed enough to fully engage.

“Actually, it’s pretty rare for them to collide. They stay stable for the most part, but when they do collide it’s most likely due to their stability being thrown off by the exchange of mass or gravitational radiation.” Unlacing his left shoe fully, you replace them upside down, tying the bow at the toe of his converse. He expected you to do the same with the other shoe, but you leave it asymmetrical.

Lifting your gaze from his shoes, your eyes settle on his face. Spencer chews on his bottom lip, looking for any underlying stress in your features. He finds none.

“So, when a stellar collision occurs, the way it reacts depends on what kind of stars were involved in the collision. Like, if it was a set of white dwarfs, the gravitational radiation would cause them to spiral inwards and-”

Spencer is cut off by JJ poking her head in the room, “Hey, the unsub responded to the statement they released.”

You sigh, “Come on, Gorgeous, you can tell me more later.” pushing Spencer’s feet off of you before standing. You lead the way out of the conference room. As he follows, he tries to ignore the way his face warms when you call him gorgeous. He knew it was stupid to focus on your little nicknames- you use them often enough that he should be used to it by now- but his heart flutters all the same.

Spencer stands at your side, his slender fingers finding their way back around your belt loop. He didn’t think you would do anything, but local cops could be unpredictable.

A few feet away, Emily leans over to Morgan, “So how long have they been dating?” She asks.

Morgan looks at her, quirking an eyebrow, “Who?”

“Reid and his attack dog, duh.” She points to the two agents attached at the hip next to JJ. Morgan snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.

“They’re not,” He shrugs, laughing when Emily’s head snaps to look at him, “I know- I know, we like to say they are, they just don’t know it yet.”

Emily looks back at the two of you, noting how you lean back into him. Your head tilts up and you whisper in his ear, motioning to whatever the unsub had sent loosely. “You’re kidding…”

“I wish I was,” Derek shakes his head, moving to place his hands on his hips, “you’re looking at a four year relationship between the two most oblivious profilers in the FBI.”

The entire team has thought the two of you were dating at some point- even Gideon before he left. In the beginning, Hotch came to the conclusion that the two of you lived together and got into the habit of only calling one on the assumption that you would arrive together. And you did. Always.

With the unsubs response, you and Spencer manage to put together a solid lead to who exactly you’re looking for. You hand the letter to Spencer, and break away to call Garcia- still with Spencer’s phone.

Garcia locates the unsub and the team hits the road. After securing your own bulletproof vest, you approach Spencer. Undoing the velcro on the sides of his vest to redo them. The velcro ripping apart is loud, drawing the attention of Rossi. He makes a face, looking over at Hotch and Derek who shrug in response.

You make sure they’re snug, sliding your hands along the curve of his waist. Moving on to the straps over his shoulders, your face scrunches a little in focus. Your hands are warm, radiating their heat onto the skin of his neck. Spencer watches you, your lips parted slightly, the tip of your tongue fitted between your teeth. You shimmy the vest, eyes roving over his torso to make sure there were no loose points.

Satisfied, you pat the FBI emblem on his chest, turning away without a word.

As the team approaches the house, you enter ahead of him. Moving methodically through the hallways, indicating clear rooms through your intercom. You enter the garage slowly, Spencer following closely behind you.

“FBI, drop the gun and show me your hands!” You have your gun on the unsub, expression stone cold. The man huffs, sweat dripping from his nose and he switches between pointing the barrel of his hand gun at you or Spencer. He seems to settle on the latter and you step forward, rushing the unsub who in turn shoots.

Spencer expects impact, but it doesn’t find him. Instead, coupled with the dull ringing in his ears from the shot, he can hear the crack of the man’s nose as the butt of your pistol slams into it. You gently push the little boy the unsub was holding towards Spencer, who cradles him to his chest.

“We have the kid- garage.” He can hear you gasp into your intercom, the breath knocked from your lungs at the impact of the bullet. Slamming the unsub into the concrete and cuffing him, you attempt to take in air. The grimace on your face isn’t from rage, he can tell that much, the tension is sat in your throat rather than your jaw.

Once the man is cuffed beneath you, your knee holding his arms in place as he squirms, you huff. Long, drawn out, breaths are pulled into your lungs. Expanding them slowly as you feel the searing, white hot, tendrils of pain erupting from the base of your ribcage.

===

“I’m fine,” You assure him for the fifth time since the team got back to the precinct. He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand, your finger pushing against his forehead, “Yes. I promise.”

“But-” He grabs your wrist, “but, even if you were shot in the “bulletproof” vest, the vest isn’t actually bulletproof. You could have bruised or cracked ribs, internal bleeding, even organ damage-”

Wiggling your arm out of his grip, you slap a hand over his mouth, “I got checked out by the paramedics, I’m fine.” He grumbles but nods, his eyes soft as he silently pouts. “Perfect, now go pack up your stuff.”

He slinks away, still pouting. Packing up the things in the conference room slowly, his worry plaguing his demeanor. You frown as you watch him. Making Spencer upset was the last thing you wanted to do.

Morgan slides up next to you, “Hey there rockstar, I know you’re just trying to reassure him. How is it really?”

Sighing, you rub a hand over your face, “He shot me at close range, the bullet pierced through and I’ve got the most wicked bruise and it hurts to breathe- but I’m definitely not telling him that.”

Morgan laughs, his eyebrows raised in concern. “You know he just worries, let him take care of you.” He pats your shoulder in support, stalking away as Spencer comes back, bag slung over his shoulder.

Landing back in Quantico, Spencer finds his way into your car- something he had taken a liking to. You were a good driver, and Spencer didn’t really like driving all that much. Having to focus on so many things means that he can’t talk as much as he wants to. But he sinks comfortably into the passenger seat of your car. His shoulders drooping as he leans his head back on the head rest.

He tucks his duffel under his legs, relishing in the leg room your car offered. Since he was the only one who really rode with you he had the seat set how he liked.

“Are you gonna finish your rant about stellar collisions?” You ask, your voice soft as it carries over the sound of the car’s A/C. He turns his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. You laugh, “You were explaining what would happen if two white dwarfs crashed into each other. Are you sure about that eidetic memory thing?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but he straightens up in his seat, taking a second to remember where he left off.

“So, the two white dwarves would emit gravitational radiation, or waves, which would cause their orbit to become unstable- which would in turn cause the stars to spiral into each other,” He uses his hands as a model, “and once they collide, the force causes carbon fusion to ignite. White dwarfs are basically dead stars that no longer support fusions, but the fusion is re-ignited by the merge.”

You nod along, turning into the parking lot of your apartment building. Spencer is confused, usually you would drop him off first, but he decides to keep his question to himself, “And since the dwarfs are made up of that degenerate matter, the equilibrium needed to keep the merge stable is pretty much non-existent. So the thermal pressure combined with the unstable weight of them crashing into each other causes a full blown supernova.”

“Supernova, huh? That’s pretty cool.” You grin, putting the car in park. You turn your head to look at him, and he stays silent. A soft smile rests on his face, and he takes the time to memorize the way the warm lighting of the street lamp shines on your soft features.

You turn off the car, pocketing your keys as you open the car door, “I need your help with something really quick, then I’ll drop you off at home, okay?”

“Yeah, no, of course.” He gets out of the car, mindlessly grabbing his bag as he rushes to catch up with you. Unlocking your ground floor apartment, Spencer shuffles in after you. He kicks off his shoes, nudging them into a neat position with his foot before placing his bag next to them.

You shrug off your jacket, hissing lightly as you slowly stretch your arms over your head. Motioning with a small tilt of your head, you lead him further into your apartment, flicking on a few lights as you do.

After all these years of knowing you, Spencer hadn’t been to your apartment much. He liked how homey it felt, dark wood furniture scattered around neatly, warm lighting, and a little clutter here and there. It was very you.

Opening the door to your bedroom, you usher him inside. Your hand was on his lower back to guide him, “Chill out, Pancake, I just need you to help me change my bandage.” You chuckle, pushing him a little firmer as he hesitates. You separate from him to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom, setting it down on the mattress when you return.

“I thought you said you were fine?” He asks, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows a little.

“I am, but I might’ve just told you that because I didn’t want you worrying.” Your confession frustrates him and he crosses his arms, “Don’t look at me like that you Grackle, just help me out, please?”

Spencer nods, dropping his hands at his sides, stuffing them into his pockets. He watches as you shuffle through the contents of your first aid kit. His hand mindlessly lifts to scratch at the inner part of his right elbow. Without looking away from your task, you reach one of your hands behind you. Gently hooking your fingers around his, you push his hand away.

“Okay, so, it definitely looks worse than it is.” You warn, turning to him. Before he can ask what you mean, you start unbuttoning your shirt. His head snaps to look away, the tense joint in his neck cracking at the force.

His cheeks warm, his hands coming up to fiddle with his tie. Keeping his eyes averted, he wills himself to stop thinking all together. All trains of thought chug their way back to you, your face, your lips, your bare torso- he has to stop thinking. Blank. Blankness.

“Uh, if you’re gonna help me I kinda need you to look,�� You chuckle awkwardly. He slowly turns his head, feeling like his head is sitting atop a stack of rusty gears. To both his relief and utter disappointment, you were wearing a tanktop. He doesn’t have time to decide if he should choose between the two, you shrug off the button up before quickly pulling the tank top over your head.

Spencer was afraid he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from your chest, clad in a black bra, but his eyes were immediately drawn lower. At the base of your ribcage sits a large mass of purple and red splotchy skin spreading out from underneath a bloodied bandage. His mouth falls open when he sees it, his eyes flicking between your face and the bruising over and over.

“Like I said,” you raise your hands, “It looks worse than it is. The bullet pierced through the vest a little and it hit skin.”

“What? Do you have any broken ribs, any organ damage, what if you’re bleeding internally?” He rushes, his hand cupping the curve of your ribs. His thumb grazes over the edge of the bandage.

Tensing at his touch, you respond swiftly, “I have a broken rib, a few fractures and a ton of bruising. The ribs took the brunt of the force, no organ damage.”

“That you know of-”

You shush him, placing your hand over his. His fingers were warm against your bare skin. Making no move to remove his hand fully, you gently slide his hand lower to rest in the dip of your waist. He lets out a shuddering breath, briefly distracted by the softness of your side.

Peeling back the bandage, you wince, swallowing the hiss bubbling at the back of your throat. The center of the impact was so red it looked black, the dark purple skin surrounding it giving the illusion of a black hole. Reminding himself of what exactly he was here for, Spencer sits on your bed, guiding you by your waist to stand between his legs.

He gets to work, gingerly removing his hand from your side to grab the contents of your kit. Working silently, he focuses on being as gentle as possible while also assessing the damage. His eyes squint softly, his jaw hanging open as he disinfects it. You watch him, your head tilted downwards, noting every small mole or freckle you can as you try to ignore the burning ache in your abdomen- both physically and metaphorically.

Having him this close was supposed to be the norm, right? The two of you had been closer than anyone on the team for almost 5 years. But your heart pools into your stomach, settling itself in your wound. Just for the chance to be cared for by his hands.

Spencer’s hands, warm and lightly calloused, slide along your ribs as softly as he can manage. His long, slender fingers, guiding a new bandage into place.

You had never considered that Dr. Spencer Reid would ever return your simmering feelings. Sure, he went along with your teasing, let you manhandle him, calmed you down, turned to you for everything, cried on your shoulder, comforted you. But that was just him, right? He was like that with everyone… Right?

No. Spencer was sweet, yes, but you knew. He was different around you, more open, more playful. Everyone on the team knows how you revolve, bound to each other via some inexplicable force. He knows how you like your tea, he knows what snacks you like, he knows the ins and outs of your past relationships. But he knows everything, from the probability of finding a four-leaf clover, to quantum physics. You weren’t special.

But once he’s done securing the bandage just beneath your sternum, he looks up at you. His eyes rounded and shining, their honey-like color looking richer than ever.

And you feel like the only woman in the universe.

It’s hard not to feel like you’re completely under his spell when the warm hazel color of his eyes bore into your own. The patterning on his irises were just as enchanting, throwing you into the labyrinth that has held your heart at its center for the past 4 years.

“How often do you need to change it?” He whispers, suddenly finding himself closer to you, his warm breath wafting over the center of your chest.

“Just once a day after this.” Is your breathy response. Your hands lift, gently pushing the front pieces of his hair behind his ears, “Your hair is getting long.”

“Should I cut it?” He asks, gaze unwavering. You shake your head no, brushing your fingers through his soft brown waves. The touch is attentive and gentle. The air grows thick with every passing moment, bathing every touch in an intimate nature.

Spencer’s hands linger at your sides, fingers ghosting along your waist. He looks up at you, his eyes somehow softening further. You almost melt on the spot, your hands finding their place at the nape of his neck. Mindlessly, you press the pads of your thumbs into the space just below his skull. The pressure alleviates some of the tension in his neck, his eyes fluttering closed as you begin to move them in a circular motion.

“You really worry too much…” You murmur, face flushing as you watch his expression melt into contentment.

“Hard not to when you’re rushing at a sociopath with a gun…” He mumbles in response, looking at you through his eyelashes. “Especially when this bullet was meant for me.” His thumb slides over the bandage, his bottom lip jutting out a little as his eyes round at the edges.

That damn puppy dog look. You hated it. He used it in any situation where he wasn’t getting his way. He knew it worked on you, probably thinking that you just thought he was too cute to resist. Not quite, as much as you did think it was cute- it was just such a turn-on.

Scoffing, you push away the mounting arousal pooling in your stomach, “Neither of us died, so I call it a win…” his gaze doesn’t waver, clearly seeking to break you, “Stop looking at me like that.” You grumble, placing a hand over his eyes.

Spencer laughs, reaching up to pull your hand away. His fingers curl around you, sliding against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “Like what?”

Rolling your eyes you sigh, “Come on, Handsome, don’t be coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His fingers slide up your wrist, spreading out to flatten your palm. Spencer’s hands are large, enveloping yours easily as he intertwined his fingers with your own. You had spent the last 4 years perfecting the art of hiding the way you feel about Spencer. But it was impossible to hide what he was doing to you here and now.

After years in steady orbit of each other, you were finally spiraling inwards.

He keeps his right hand intertwined with yours, his other hand sliding up your torso slowly. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, watching the miniscule changes in your flushed expression. His fingers slide along the band of your bra. The texture of the lace rubs along the pads on his fingertips. He guides his hand up, breathing shakily as it ghosts over the apex of your chest. You bristle at the contact, your hand gripping his tightly in an attempt to keep your composure.

The only thing breaking up the silence permeating the room is the uneven breathing shared between you. Spencer takes his time, tracing the outline of your collarbone. He follows the line of it, dipping his index and middle finger into the center crevice of your clavicle. Dragging his fingers up the center of your throat, his short, dull nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. You let out a strained hum, his fingers feeling the vibration of your vocal chords. His inner thighs press against the outside of your own, reminding you of how exactly you ended up here.

Following the line of your jaw, his knuckles gently tilt your head down. He keeps his eyes locked on you, still giving you that dreaded doe eyed stare. Once his hand reaches your face, he tears his gaze from your eyes, following his fingers as he caresses the soft skin of your cheek.

Turning his hand, Spencer lets his slender fingers flatten against your jaw. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, tracing the warm skin and gently pressing into it. Watching as the color of your lips changes with the light pressure, he finally speaks.

“The reason your heart races, or you feel nervous when you’re in love… is because of the sudden release of hormones. Dopamine, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine spike, but the mood stabilizer, Serotonin, drops.” His thumb gently tugs on your bottom lip.

“Do I make you nervous, Dr. Reid?” You whisper, your lips gently pressing into the pad of his thumb. Reaching up your free hand, you gently slide it under the front of his cardigan. Pressing it into his chest you could feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage.

Spencer nods, his bottom lip fitting between his teeth as he looks up at you. His face is flushed, the heights of his cheekbones radiating heat from the blood pooling beneath his skin. Adjusting in his seat, he pulls his legs towards himself, fitting one of his knees between your legs to spread them apart.

You look at him in surprise, but he dips his gaze to watch what he was doing. He puts his knees together, placing them between your own. Spreading his legs, he hooks them around your calves, forcing you forward. Yelping, you try your hardest not to collapse into him. You manage to get one of your knees onto the mattress before he fully knocks you over. Ignoring the way his gaze lingers on your flushed face, you settle into his lap, knees on either side of his hips.

Spencer could feel the strap of your thigh holster pressing into his leg. He unclasps his hand from yours, sliding it up your knee. He finds the buckles on the two straps digging into the flesh of your thigh. Maintaining eye contact while he unclasps them, you lift yourself off of him so he can take it off easier. He discards it onto the other side of the bed before letting his hand fall back to rest on your thigh. Spencer was constantly searching your face for approval, touching you slow and simple- He always made it a priority to make you comfortable. Mirroring his other hand, the one holding your face slides down the side of your torso to cup your thigh.The pressure of his touch increases, kneading your muscles through your jeans.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, gripping them lightly as he touches you. Growing restless, you reach down to unbutton his cardigan, sliding it off of his shoulders. He assists in taking it off, throwing it haphazardly across the room. His hands return to their places, but he tilts his head a little, his lips parting as his eyes slide across your face.

Rocking your hips forward pulls a soft moan from his lips, his fingers curling into your thighs. “I- I don’t… think we should do this…” He gasps, contradicting himself as his hands slide up to your hips, pulling you against him again.

“We don’t have to…” You gasp in response, the stimulation only slightly dulled by the thick material of your jeans.

“I want to- but, you’re injured.” He mumbles, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbone.

You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his warm lips, “You won’t hurt me.” Loosening his tie, you pull it over his head and toss it to the side.

“I could- not on purpose, but strenuous activity should be avoided during recovery.” Spencer argues, his voice weakened by the way your hips slide into his. His breath falls from his lips heavily, fanning your face as you lean in close.

Laughing, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, “It doesn’t feel like you want to stop.” You could feel him underneath you, already straining against his slacks. He swallows, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. The hands on your hips tighten their grip, digging into your flesh. He keeps his eyes on you, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your sternum.

Spencer’s hands knew exactly what to do. Sliding over the apex of your hips, his thumbs pressing firmly into your soft skin. Traveling slowly up, the weight of his palms kneading your sides as the tips of his fingers find the band of your bra. The pressure of his touch lightens as he lifts his palms off of you. His fingers curl slightly, leaving just a few fingertips touching the lacy fabric.

Reading you like a book, his hands circle around to your back. Finding the clasp, he makes quick work of undoing your bra. He makes no move to fully remove the garment, just flattening his hands against your exposed back. His fingers press into your spine, running along the outsides of it.

You slide the bra off, throwing it over your shoulder to join your shirt and his cardigan on the floor. His eyes leave yours, trailing along your skin, uninterrupted by fabric. One hand stays on your back, the other sliding around your side. The pressure of his touch lightens as he reaches your front, very careful to not disturb your injured ribs.

His hand flattened on your torso scoops the underside of your breast, his thumb caressing the soft skin. Watching how your body molds to the shape of his hand, his lips part slightly, almost studying you.

Spencer presses a few more kisses to your sternum, slowly making his way up to your collarbone. Your hips continue to slide against his, pulling soft breathy moans from the both of you. His noises are muffled by your neck as he presses his lips to the center of your throat. It almost hurts how badly you want him, your desire clouding over any possible pain stemming from your ribs.

Moving as quickly and as gently as possible, Spencer twists his body. He slowly lowers your back to the mattress, settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He continued to grind against you, the feeling of him through four layers of clothing was enough to drive you up the wall.

It dawned on you then how easy this felt.

Just like everything with him, it all came to you like the most natural thing in the universe. The two of you had spent years memorizing everything about each other. You never thought it would translate so well into this situation. Then again, you never thought it was possible for you to end up in this position with him. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them quickly as his mouth finds your throat again. He takes his time exploring the warm skin of your neck, very gently nipping at your pulse. He takes in every noise he draws from you, filing them away in his mind with every roll of his hips.

Just as easily as the dusk slides into the quiet of night, you turn to putty in his hands.

Trying to focus on getting his shirt off, you’re distracted by the intense way he kisses your neck. You hadn’t really expected Spencer to be so… possessive with his mouth, but in hindsight it made sense to you.

He was possessive in other ways, always taking the seat next to you on the jet, calling dibs on partnering with you, not letting anyone else help you if he was nearby, getting pouty when your attention was drawn elsewhere. Listening to his heavy breathing as his warm, open mouthed, kisses press into your throat you’re suddenly aware of every way he’s laid his claim on you to the people around you.

To everyone else, you were his.

His hands hold your chest, squeezing and caressing the soft skin. Spencer’s teeth slowly drag along the side of your neck, biting you very gently, careful not to leave any marks where anyone would see. Your breathing comes out heavy and labored, your face scrunching slightly as you feel the strain of your ribs with each breath.

Spencer’s large palms slide down your torso after one last squeeze, finding the hem of your pants. He quickly gets your belt off, letting it clatter to the floor and unbuttoning your jeans. Pulling away from your neck. his eyes meet yours as he hooks his fingers over the hem of your underwear. He shimmies them down the length of your legs along with your pants, tossing them across the room carelessly. Pupils dilated wide, he drinks in the look of you like a starved man. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his eyebrows furrowing slightly at the pained look on your face. His thumb presses against the space between your brows, smoothing out the tension building there as your chest rises and falls heavily.

“Try to relax your breathing,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek. His hand slips away from your face, the soft noise of his silver belt buckle unfastening filling your ears. Attentive kisses are pressed along the perimeter of your face, urging you to try and calm your racing heart.

The air around you is cold, a stark contrast to the ever growing heat pooling between your legs. His warm chest presses against yours, one hand curling around your knee, the other sliding along your bare inner thigh.

A soft moan falls from your lips, “You’re not exactly helping,” You whisper, feeling his lips press against your temple.

“It doesn’t feel like you want to stop,” He replies, throwing your words back at you as his fingers slide against your clit teasingly. You writhe underneath him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. Trying your hardest not to move too much as his fingers slowly circle the bundle of nerves. If you move too much and aggravate your ribs, you might have to stop. His slender fingers slide along you, dipping into your entrance briefly before continuing to tease. You whine, lifting your hips to meet his hand as best as you can.

As much as Spencer wants to keep teasing, his need to please you overwhelms any other desire that may be festering. He pushes his middle finger into you, kissing the corner of your mouth as a guttural moan is pulled from your lips.

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing soothing circles into it as his finger fucks into you. His face remains pressed into yours, kissing along your cheekbone lovingly. Adding his ring finger, he pushes it into you slowly and allows you to adjust to the difference in size. His long, slender, fingers slide in and out of you, the ministrations deliberate and slow.

Despite the slow pace of his hand, the length and size of his fingers provides overwhelming stimulation. You had always loved how large his hands were, spending nights wondering and fantasizing about how they would feel touching you like this. But this was way better than any piss poor scenario you could dream up.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, mouth hanging open as deep, breathy moans fall from your lips. Hissing a bit, you try to calm your breathing.

“Don’t stop…” You sigh out, knowing he was noticing the way your breathing changes in kind to the pain spreading from your fractured bones. Spencer listens to your request, his fingers curling slightly. The sensation draws out a loud gasp as the tips of his fingers press into you. Your hands move down his neck, sliding along his back.

Your head swims with intense pleasure, not bothering to care about how badly your ribs hurt with every breath you take. Spencer’s name falls from your mouth like a mantra, eyes closing as you focus on not writhing underneath him. Hands pressing into his shoulder blades you pull him flush against you, feeling his hard length against your inner thigh as he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers.

The way he presses into your inner thigh pulls a small noise from the back of his throat. He speeds up the way his fingers fuck into you, rutting against your thigh instinctually to keep the friction going. His thumb presses into your clit, the pressure firmer as he continues to circle around it. The feeling draws out a strained moan from your lips, your hips jerking involuntarily.

Spencer can feel you starting to fall apart underneath him, his lips pressing firmly into your neck. His soft gasps and moans muffled by your warm skin as he uses your thigh. Tightening around his fingers, your legs shake, and you mumble his name over and over. Biting down on your lip, his free hand slides just under your breast, holding your torso down when he feels your back begin to lift from the bed. Your orgasm crashes over you and the room spins, tremors vibrating through your spine.

You gasp, panting to try and catch your breath. His lips find your face again, smothering your cheeks and nose with affection as you come down from your high slowly. His desperate grinding against your thigh pulls you back to reality and you gently push on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Spencer… I need you…” You whine, your hands cupping his face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nods. There’s a soft twitch to his face when he pulls his hips away from your thigh, his eyes searching yours for final approval. You nod, adoring the amber color at the center of his irises.

Gripping himself in his hand, he takes a second to slide his tip through your folds, pulling a desperate moan from the both of you. The tenderness left from your last orgasm causes you to whine and throw your head back onto the pillow.

“Wait…” He gasps, looking up at you, “I- do you have a condom?”

You can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head, “I’m on birth control, it’s fine… please.” Your fingers curl and play with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

He hesitates, seemingly working through the probabilities and statistics of not using one, but he nods. Spencer looks back down, lining himself up with you. One hand on your hip, the other wrapped around himself.

“Tell me to stop if you need to,” He says, voice shaking with his heavy breathing. You nod, eyes locked on his features. The shadows of his face as he hovers over you are dark, seeping into the dips and curves of his brow and cheek bones. He looked ethereal.

When his tip pushes into you slowly, you gasp. His mouth finds yours, kissing you needily as he works his way inside of you.

Spencer breathes heavily into your mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your outer thighs, “I… I love you.” He declares, his lips moving against yours with fervor.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, his kisses not allowing you to verbally reciprocate. You loved him. There was no doubt about that. But when he’s fully inside of you, filling you completely, there is nothing you can do to stop the way you ignite underneath him.

Moaning into his mouth, your legs shake from your earlier orgasm. He gives you time to slowly adjust, shivers running up and down his spine as your muscles flutter around him. Spencer slows down his kisses, resorting to soft presses as he waits for your signal.

After a moment you nod, whispering a soft “I love you” and kissing him in return. With your quiet permission, he pulls his hips back. Letting out a strained groan, his lips loosely against yours, he rolls his hips back into you.

The feeling of you wrapped around him completely, your hands in his hair, your mouth against his. There is nothing that can compare to this. Nothing.

Spencer rocks into you slowly, keeping your hips pressed against the mattress. The angle is perfect, and the least likely to aggravate your rib cage. He’s fully in tune with how you feel underneath him, his hands gently sliding over your hips in a soothing motion. Feeling no need to rush, he pulls back from your lips to watch the way he slides in and out of you.

“I… I would beg you to go faster if my ribs didn’t feel like they were on fire.” You hum, your hands brushing over the perimeters of his face. His face scrunches a little and he almost slows to a stop, but you shake your head, “Don’t- don’t stop, please, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers shakily, one of his hands sliding down to press circles into your overly sensitive clit.

A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, “Yes, yes… I’ve never felt so good…” Your muscles flutter around him, the added sensation pulling your thoughts from the deep ache ringing from your torso. His lips meet yours again, one of his palms cupping the back of your hand. Pressing your hand firmly into his cheek, his mouth moves against yours in slow, loving motions. The amount of tongue he used was a pleasant surprise, his kisses never seeming to still.

Keeping up his languid pace, Spencer memorizes the way you feel- which isn’t hard with his memory, but he files away every moan, every flutter of your core, every lingering kiss. It was all so perfect.

The remnants of your first orgasm buzzes in your core, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, your kisses getting sloppier and his name falling from your lips in quick succession. His hips roll deep into you, making up for the slow pace with the thumb rubbing evenly over your clit.

His shoulders tense, the kiss between you breaking into just a sequence of heavy breaths against your lips. Hips twitching, the feeling of you around him almost unbearable as the pleasure causes his head to swim. All of the facts and knowledge constantly swimming through his mind fall silent, replaced with your soft whines and the feeling of your soft skin under his palms.

“Spencer… god, please- come for me…” You murmur against his lips, your hands moving into his hair and sliding down the back of his neck. Your nails lightly scrape along his sensitive skin, coaxing him over the edge. It’s all he can do to keep his slow pace, lifting his face away from yours to look down at you. Your eyes are slightly glassed over, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. The eye-contact is the final push he needed, his fingers circling around your clit quickly.

You gasp at the change in pace- the feeling of him inside of you, the length of him brushing against your sweet spot, his sweet gaze on your face all cause your muscles to contract as your second orgasm crashes over you. Spencer follows quickly behind you, groaning loudly as his hips stutter and he pushes himself into you as deep as he can. His release coats your insides, the added sensation pushing you even farther. Mouth falling open, his moans spike to a slightly higher pitch as he slowly rides out his own orgasm.

Heavy gasps fall from your lips as the two of you come down from your high. Spencer’s lips press against yours sloppily, his hands reaching up to hold your face firmly. He pulls out of you slowly, listening to the soft whine that falls from your lips.

Overly sensitive from the two back to back orgasms, your head swims. Spencer attempts to pull away from you more, but your hands loosely capture his wrists and pull him back. Lips meeting again in a lazy fashion, your mind is in a daze, “I love you…” is softly mumbled into his mouth, your hands holding his to your face.

“I love you too… How do your ribs feel?” He asks, kissing up the bridge of your nose.

You sigh into his affection, your thumbs rubbing the outside of his hands, “I feel great… it’s like a forgotten bruise.” Your lips pull into a sloppy grin.

“That’s because pain can be reduced by orgasms,” Is his response, pulling a soft laugh from you, “Potent analgesics, which are basically pain killers, are released in the endorphins during sex.”

“Maybe we should do this until my ribs are healed,” You hum, pressing a few soft kisses to his cheek.

Spencer laughs a little, shaking his head, “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He attempts to pull away again but you keep his hands held in your grip. You were still exhausted, your hold loose. Spencer could easily wriggle away, but he humors you with a few more kisses.

“Stay… I want you to stay.” You whine, tilting your head and kissing the corners of his mouth. “Please?”

Spencer nods, moving to settle next to you. Being mindful of your injury, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. Scooting closer and pressing his chest against your arm, he kisses your temple sweetly. The gravity of your connection holds your cores together in the wake of your collision.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #no use of y/n #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #fluff #smut #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg #mgg smut #gublernation

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spencer-reids-fbivest · 6 months ago

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He’s so baby 🥹 ( Also Matthew and Thomas are so dad and son in those two pics)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #mgg edit #mgg pics #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg fluff #thomas gibson #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner

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butyoulooksocool · 8 months ago

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18+ mdni. thx

“please.” was the only word you could manage to get out while spencer’s hand was dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

he had you in his lap on the couch. his other hand held a book open with his thumb. it was a paperback, the cover was dark green. maybe? you hadn’t looked at it too closely. your eyes were preoccupied, staring at his through the lenses of his reading glasses. watching them quickly dart across the paper. his breath was slow and stable, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he flipped the pages.

“spencer, please.” you whined again as his hand moved farther down into your bottoms. “please what, honey?” he responded, calmly. “what is it?”

“just-.” you hesitated. you felt safe and comfortable with him, but sometimes it was difficult to vocalize what you wanted, especially in moments these.

“come on, tell me.” he spoke softly, in contradiction to the demand. he leaned down to place a soft kiss on your cheek, almost as a plea to get you to speak. “what do you need?” he asked again, while two of his fingers slowly pressed against your entrance through the thin fabric of your underwear. clearly, he knew what you needed, but he wanted to hear you say it. it’s hard not to give him what he wants.

“your hands, need your hands.” you answered, as you started rolling your hips down onto him, desperate for some kind of friction, quietly whimpering into the crook of his neck. you knew how needy you looked, and sounded, but you also knew spencer liked having you like this. loved it, really. the mix between sweetness and unspoken control he had on you was so perfect and balanced.

he started to gently rub back and forth along your still clothed core. you could feel the wetness beginning to collect on his fingertips through the fabric. “oh?” he hummed, turning away from his book to look at you for the first time since you had sat down. “but i’m reading right now, angel.” his voice was low and stern, but still tender. “i can help you, but you need to stay quiet.” he pressed harder against your heat, earning a few small moans from you in return. “i know it’s hard, but you wouldn’t want to distract me from my book, hm?”

you started nodding your head before his sentence was even complete. “no, i’ll- i can be quiet.” your voice got more silent with each word.

“i know you can, you’re so good for me.” spencer began pushing your underwear to the side. “always so good.”

#˚୨୧₊ ken's writing #˚୨୧₊ ken's reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #mgg x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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hereforhalstead · 4 months ago

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he’s so soft

#mgg #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg x you #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #mgg smut #mgg pics #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg edit #mgg gifs #mgg x y/n #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler edit #matthew gray gubler

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bohemianblasphemy · 13 days ago

Note

This song, a secret relationship with Spencer where everyone is flirting with his girlfriend because no one knows they’re together. Spencer gets anxious about it until he finally cracks and says “She belongs to me.” 🥰

He’s so cute I melt everytime 🥲

It was a rare event that the BAU was able to hold any form of event- let alone a bustling office party.

Soft music, clinking glasses and conversations filled the bullpen as you walked in, taking in the familiar surroundings.

You had opted to wear a black mid length dress- not too formal, not too casual but it was enough to turn heads, gazes falling upon you.

There was only one set of eyes hat you were focused on however, ones the belonged to one Spencer Reid.

He stood talking to Emily- chewing her ear off with some of his many fun facts of wisdom, before he caught your figure from the corner of his eye, turning to look at you.

Those brown eyes raked over how you looked in that dress- God it took all his strength to not lose his mind over how you looked. Spencer smiled at your arrival, his eyes gleaming with affection for you.

You mirrored that same glance toward him, seeing him in a nice button up shirt with the top two buttons undone with black slacks.

Spencer and yourself had been together for a while- this was unknown to other as you kept to yourselves, not out of shame but just to keep things private, for your eyes only.

The clandestine dates to a museum or gallery, staying at each others apartments, sneaky glances and touches as you sat next to each other on the jet… it was exhilarating.

But it was hard to keep it secret when people around you kept checking you out.

You walked down the few steps into the sea of people, exchanging hellos and small talk as you made your way over to Spencer, before a familiar voice from behind called to you.

“God sweetheart… you look good.”

Turning on your heel, Derek Morgan grinned at you- his eyes roving over how you looked at the front. “Thank you Morgan.” You replied, looking at him as he crossed his arms, continuing his compliments.

“No like… you look straight out of a movie, that dress on you is gorgeous, baby.” He chuckled his eyes glazing over you again.

Spencer could see Morgan’s eyes over you from across the way, his jaw clenching as he stood there with you.

Albeit Morgan was harmless in his words, Spencer couldn’t help but feel the pang of jealousy that coursed through him. He knew that you wouldn’t be reciprocating his flirty remarks, but just the thought of his girl being chatted up to by someone else made him irritated.

You were his, and no one was going to take you away from him.

“Hey Reid, you okay?” Emily waved her hand in front of his eyes, grounding him back from his trance. Her eyes turned to the direction of where he was gazing to, seeing Morgan and yourself talking.

“Sorry.. just- just a bit distracted, will you excuse me a moment?” He smiled half heartedly at Emily, before walking toward you. “O-oh okay…” she mumbled, watching on confused as Spencer make a beeline to you.

“No Morgan, you know that I’m not going to go anywhere else but my own home tonight…” you rolled your eyes at Derek’s joke about him taking you home, before you felt a familiar arm snake around your waist.

Spencer stood beside you, his hand on your hip- a display of affection that was once done in secrecy, now in front of a work colleague and close friend.

Looking up at him, you gave him a puzzled look, which he reciprocated with his charmingly awkward smile he had adorned on his face- the glint of adoration in his eyes as he looked at you.

Morgan’s expression turned amused at Spencer’s display, cocking an eyebrow. “Hey there pretty boy… feeling cosy there?” He chuckled, observed the both of you.

Spencer turned slightly to face you, looking down at your eyes and lips before leaning in to give you a soft kiss- which was a shock to your system, your eyes widening as you both locked lips in front of Derek.

Derek’s eyes nearly popped out of his head in shock, along with various staff members gasping or whooping at the two of you in your embrace.

Spencer pulled away and held you close to him, leaving you breathless at the situation as you watched him turn his head to Derek.

“She belongs to me…” he said, looking at him with an unreadable expression as Derek jokingly raised his hands in surrender. “It’s all good man, she’s all yours… catch up later yeah?” he chuckled winking at the both of you as he walked away as Spencer nodded in response to him.

You were still in shock- not only from the kiss that you both shared, but now the cat was out of the bag of your relationship. “W-what was that?” I whispered, looking up at him.

“That was me not letting another person take your love away from me…” he said, flashing another smile at you- making you giggle at his jealous nature that had come to the surface. “Such a dork…” you joked, bringing him in for another kiss- a solidifying moment of not being so secretive about your relationship with each other anymore.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction

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prozacwhorehouse · 12 days ago

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instagram feeds - mgg x snl cast member gf ⭐️

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hey guyss so this is not the promised piece because im still working hard and hardly working BUT i am happy with this sort of trailer for concept 😌

all pictures are taken from Pinterest but collages made by me !

instagram feed concept entirely inspired by @gibson-g1rl i love your insta aus 💗💗

hope you enjoy and i cannottt wait to get the full works out xx

y/ny/l/nforreal

❤️112k 💬 9k | liked by gublergram, marcellohdz and others

y/ny/l/nforreal not a moment of peace in this office @snl

marcellohdz: who is that dashing gentleman in the first pic

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: @marcellohdz idk I think it’s Colin Jost?

longfellow_michael: YOU are the reason there’s no peace.

❤️ by author

—> egonwodim: longfellow_michael disrespect my baby one more time. 😡

martinherlihy: Hey so I think you put the wrong selfie because I’m not in that one lol 😂😂

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: Noo i dont fink so

criminalmindsfanatic: MATTHEW LIKED???

—> hotchqueen4: HELLO??

—>mggrumple: THR FRIENDSHIP WE NEVER KNEW WE NEEDED

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mggupdates

❤️8k 💬358

mggupdates: Matthew with mystery girl in New York City, rumored to be comedian and SNL cast member y/n y/l/n

y/nfan: YUPPP THOSE ARE HER NAILS AND SHE HAS THAT RING!!!

—> unknown9495: @y/nfan I noticed that too!!

mggy/nfanclub: someone posted that they saw them it’s def her!!!

—>user63: @mggy/nfanclub pls tag me omg

movieluvr: livinggg for this friendship/relationship 😫

—> girlpwr88: @movieluvr46 i want him so bad

—> prncsspch: @girlpwr88 him?? I want HER

spencerreidswife: we lost him guys 💔

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y/ny/l/nforreal

❤️ 116k 💬 13k | liked by gublergram, marcellohdz and others

y/ny/l/nforreal recently in nyc

marcellohdz: sonny ANGEL 💜

—>y/ny/l/nforreal: @marcellohdz you need to be stopped

gublergram: rubber duck

❤️ liked by author

—> randomuser281: @gublergram MGG WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??

—> whore4spencerreid: @gublergram HUH??

—> mggstan: @gublergram oh they for suree dating

—> spencerreid2005: @mggstan they could also just be good friends??

—> emilyprentissfan0: @randomuser281 someone PLEASE tell me if they’re dating

janewickline: coffee dates with my wife >>>

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: @janewickline marry me.

—> janewickline: @y/ny/l/nforreal I do. 💍

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y/ny/l/nforreal

❤️106k 💬18k | liked by y/ny/l/nforreal, yourbsfuser and others

y/ny/l/nforreal my friend wrote a book and it is quite nice. now he’s giving free copies out on his book tour which is why he’s broke anyways go read 💚

gublergram: thank you y/n this is the best publicity I’ve ever recieved!

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: @gublergram sure thing do you need a money loan too

—>yourbsfuser: @y/ny/l/nforreal Y/N 😭😭😭

—>spencerreidwhore: she ends him every day and I love to see it

y/nfancentral23: BROKE SHE CAME FOR HIM BYEEE

user18834: FRIEND?? we were all ROOTING for you 💔💔

randomuser: can we talk about how cute it is that she’s promoting his book 🥹🥹

—>matthewy/nshipper: @randomuser890 IK I love them so bad 😭

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gublergram

❤️382k 💬30k | liked by y/ny/l/nforreal, kirstenvangsness and others

gublergram you make me laugh every day. maybe it’s because you’re a comedian im not sure happy birthday 😊

y/ny/l/nforreal: wow thanks get rid of these pictures

—>gublergram: @y/ny/l/nforreal no

cmaddict: he’s def so in love with her omg

—> snlbiggestfan: @cmaddict1 I meannn who wouldn’t be

—>randomuser: THE it couple I love them so bad

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gublergram

❤️300k 💬27k | liked by y/ny/l/nforreal, aubreyplaza and others

gublergram bet you didn’t know y/n is also a professional makeup artist. i look spookier than ever @y/ny/l/nforreal

y/ny/l/nforreal: I just screamed

❤️ by author

cmfan3747: stoppp she’s doing his gublerween makeup now 🥹🥹

—> hater123 @cmfan3747 she’s almost 20 years younger than him. mad weird

—>yourshipnamestan @hater123 so they’re both adults hope this helps! ❤️

y/nfandom45: when is it my turn for a relationship like theirs 💔💔

—>user284: real asf 😖

—>troller293: so you want an inappropriate relationship with an inappropriate age gap?

—>user48: bro shut up

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y/ny/l/nforreal

❤️130k 💬 22k | liked by gublergram, marcellohdz and others

y/ny/l/nforreal it appears your smile has always been contagious. happy birthday old man

gublergram ❤️

gublergram: old man? i retract my previous comment.

❤️ by author

bsfsusername: THE LAST PIC HELLO

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: @yourbestfriendsuser the og hitch hiking ant

marcellohdz: gross ushy gushy caption delete this

—> y/ny/l/nforreal: @marcellohdz I still love you!

—> marcellohdz: @y/ny/l/nforreal better. 😊

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mgg x SNL cast member tag list <3

@sarcasm-and-stiles @mystargirl-interlude @rubyirene @ashrrams @ghostatrixx @forevermorepassionate @saint-boudica @reidmarieprentiss @awakeforu @spencerlicious @kittycat-april @baudarling @delusional-4-fake-people @avenlymars @angelinajolie0213 @arusio @littleslayofhorrors @jezabelle9299 @jaemnationnn

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg fanfiction #mgg fluff #mgg x snl cast member

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sreidisms · 8 months ago

Note

Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️

THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!

An Oblivious Genius

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.

Genre: subtle fluff

Word Count: 862

Warnings: none

A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!

“I think you have feelings for her.”

“Huh?”

Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”

Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.

The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.

So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.

“I don’t think that’s the case-”

“Reid.”

Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.

“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.

Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.

“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”

“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.

“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.

“That’s because she means more to you.”

“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”

“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.

“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”

It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.

“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.

Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.

“I do.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.

“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.

Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”

“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”

“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”

Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.

“Shit, I like her.”

Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.

The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?

“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.

“You tell her you like her.”

Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.

“You want me to do what?”

“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”

The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”

The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”

God I need him, he's such a cutie

#writingreidisms #reidismrequests #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #fem reader

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rebeccccccaaa · 7 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites.

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now.

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked.

“Then why are you calling?”

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most.

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him.

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically.

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though.

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.”

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too.

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though.

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh.

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips.

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him.

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper.

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out.

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you.

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them.

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day.

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always.

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself.

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered.

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs.

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you.

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud.

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that.

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl.

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself.

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs.

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together.

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy.

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax.

“Oh god, too much, Spence.”

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously.

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly.

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs.

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined.

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined.

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained.

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course.

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of.

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him.

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe.

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face.

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle.

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place.

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time.

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp.

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again.

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax.

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated.

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high.

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts.

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before.

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer.

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently.

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted.

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.”

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face.

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read.

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet.

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing.

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back.

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you.

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #first fic back!!#hope you enjoyed reading #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #reader insert #smut

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mydearzero · 1 year ago

Text

Prey | Professor!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You were determined to stay collected and have your professor make the first move. To make him believe he's the one desperate for you. He's onto you though. He knows what you want, what you need. And he's going to give it to you.

Warnings: Professor!Spencer, fem!Reader, Teacher/student relationship, age gap, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), NO Y/N, fingering, praise kink, degradation, dacryphilia, humiliation, semi-public sex, rough sex, creampie, choking, aftercare. If I missed any warnings please tell me!

3.9K words

Criminology wasn't the first class you'd voluntarily take. It was interesting enough, really. But not at all necessary for your degree.

You loved true crime as much as the next college-aged girl. That's what your excuse would be, at least, when people would inevitably ask why the hell you signed up for the class. But the real reason?

You'd seen him on campus a couple times, only a semester ago. His jagged yet put-together exterior intrigued you. His eyes met yours, if only for a split second. He was perceptive. Very perceptive.

The third time you saw him meeting with the dean, you knew you were hooked. You felt yourself mouth the syllables of his name. Heard the sound falling off your lips in a whispered tone as you overheard him introduce himself to the Criminal Law professor.

Doctor Spencer Reid.

You'd done your research, as any self-respecting student would. He was an FBI agent working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. He was a proper genius with several degrees under his belt, even when he was your age.

He wasn't anymore, your age.

A notice got posted on the college's website a few days after your last sighting. Doctor Spencer Reid of the FBI would teach several seminars this semester, with voluntary attendance and limited availability.

You signed up in a heartbeat. You told yourself it was because he was an enigma, a puzzle for you to solve. His posture, eyes and even how he spoke screamed 'Solve me!' You, someone notorious for your ability to read people, couldn't figure him out. It frustrated you. Everything about him invited you to try and peel back the layers to let you see inside.

Were you maybe a tad too obsessed with the man without ever having spoken to him? Obviously, but you couldn't help yourself. You loved a good mystery. And this was one gorgeous mystery.

You tried to be deliberate about everything when you entered the first seminar. Don't spare the professor a second glance, but be genuinely interested. Don't hang off every word falling from his lips but raise your hand often enough to appear engaged. You wanted him to be the one to notice you first, even if it was anything but the truth.

But Professor Reid was a professor in his field for a good reason. He caught your calculated gaze a few times. Watched as you schooled your expression to perfection. Spencer had to admit, you were good. But he was better. He noticed how your stare dropped to his hands as he moved them while speaking. Noticed how the pattern of your breathing was unnatural. If his hearing was superhuman, he would've heard your heart beat irregularly.

You could seek control of the situation as much as you wanted, but your body would betray you time and time again. Spencer thrived in this little cat-and-mouse game you'd tried to set him up for. He knew you'd convinced yourself you were the cat, calculated, ready to pounce. He smiled to himself at the comparison. If only you knew you were the mouse in this situation, insignificant and small under his watchful eye. Something for him to feast on.

He'd seen you that day; the first time he was on campus. Captured your observant eye with amusement simmering in his mind. He knew who you were, and why you were here, the second you walked into the classroom. You'd tried to appear confident, sure of yourself, by walking to a spot near the front without sparing anybody around you a second glance. But Spencer saw it for what it was. A nervous but powerful stride of a girl begging for a grain of validation.

It had been brought to his attention that several girls in the class were only auditing, but not you. You were here for the real deal. You were committed to figuring him out. He could see it in the way your eyes raked over his body, reading his body language with every syllable spoken. You were genuinely interested in the subject matter, even if it was only to listen to him explain it.

He was flattered, really. Although your interest in the professor might've started as superficial as the other girls', he could see himself in the way you lost yourself in the infatuation. It wasn't just his looks that pulled you into his orbit. You were intrinsically aware of the grief, trauma and heartache he'd built up over the years. You were dying to be a part of the gravity that shaped him.

He could see how you had the power to mould people when you had your claws in them. Though, he wasn't sure it was a conscious ability you possessed. Maybe it was just who you were. You had a need for control in every sense of the word. And God, did he want to take it away from you.

If he didn't know any better, he'd be afraid you'd commit a string of murders if only it meant he would have to read into it. Consider every detail of the crime scene so he'd have to figure you out. It was admirable; your passion for complete dominance. But you couldn't fool Spencer.

He saw the way you crossed your arms, bit the skin on your lips until they bled, and picked at the skin around your nails, not quite bringing them up to your mouth to bite them, knowing it would convey insecurity. You were an insecure little girl, convincing yourself of the opposite.

Your need to understand him and domineer every situation was likely a defence mechanism, but he couldn't judge. Not when your little game got him right where you wanted him. Spencer had to applaud your dedication. The anticipation kept him on his toes every time he set foot on campus. He knew you wanted him to break, to make the first move, and he just might have to if he wanted to rid himself of the everlasting tension that seemed to have taken over his body.

Fine. Spencer would play your little game if that's what you wanted.

He saw you getting more confident, convinced he was falling into your trap the second he gave in. How the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly when his gaze lingered on them. You were so caught up in your success that you failed to notice every action was premeditated on his part. It was only inevitable your eyes would light up with glee and triumph when he requested you to meet him in his office after class.

You knocked on his door tentatively, trying to slow your racing heart.

"Come in." Spencer's voice carried through the door. You turned the handle and stepped inside the dimly lit office.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?" You spoke as your hand lingered on the door, a calculated move to come across as unsure. It was a complete 180 of your usual behaviour in class, but it was a surefire way to let him let you in. You were no threat.

If only you knew how true that was.

"Yes, close the door and have a seat, please." Spencer motioned to the chair across from him. You nodded and closed the door quietly before pulling the chair out and sitting down.

"I would like to discuss your paper with you if you don't mind." Spencer held up the printed copy he insisted everybody hand in. You scoffed when you read the specifications of the assignment. Figures he'd be old school.

"That's fine. Is there something wrong, Professor?" You batted your eyelashes the way you knew no man could resist. The act of the meek, helpless deer.

"There's nothing wrong with it, necessarily. I would simply like to discuss the subject matter with you. You sure picked an interesting topic." Spencer leaned against the back of his chair and interlocked his fingers as he saw you smile.

"What can I say? Your job intrigued me. Though, as I'm sure you could tell from my essay, I can't say I completely agree with the logic behind it." You gave him a small smile to let him know you weren't antagonising but stood behind your choices.

"Some critiques definitely can be taken into account. But it's been proven time and time again, with every case we solve through behavioural analysis, that the science and logic behind it work. Sure, we can be wrong, even way off. But it's a rare occasion." His eyebrows raised in challenge as he spoke. A small smile threatened to appear on his face as he awaited your answer.

You squinted at his apparent amusement. He wasn't taking you seriously. He knew he'd cracked you when your facade dropped. You looked genuinely offended at his lack of interest in your opinion. He almost wanted to laugh at how easy it turned out to be, to get you to drop the act.

"Don't look so smug, Professor. It's not a good look on you." You jabbed. You cursed at yourself. That wasn't an argument. You crossed your arms as you leaned back in the chair, never breaking eye contact.

"I must say, I'm kind of disappointed in you. You seemed to have a great grasp on the subject matter while in class, yet you failed one of the biggest requirements of the assignment."

You frowned at his words, genuinely confused. You egged him to continue talking.

"You see, the main requirement was to stay objective. This essay was anything but. I guess I misjudged you. I assumed you were above letting your personal opinions and vendettas get in the way of your academics. Apparently not." Spencer tsked. He was taunting you.

"How was my essay subjective?" You asked. The more you thought back to it, the more you realized how tainted the words on the pages in his hands were by your disdain for your attraction to him.

You hated him for making you feel the way you did, and you hadn't even realized it until now.

"I expected factual work. The only fact I can get from this essay is that you're driving yourself crazy with how much you want me to fuck you."

You gaped at his vulgar words.

Hook.

"Don't look so scandalized. You knew what you were getting into when you signed up for my class. You made your bed. Now lie in it." Spencer leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk, crossing his fingers once again.

"I think you're full of shit, Spencer Reid." You sneered.

Line.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart. And it's Doctor or Professor. I'm not picky." He had the gall to laugh.

"Profile me then, professor. If you're so damn sure of yourself." You rolled your eyes but looked at him expectantly.

Sinker.

"Stand up, lock the door." He instructed. You did as he asked with no rebuttal. He raised from his chair and walked around the desk. You followed him closely with your eyes, unable to predict his next steps.

He placed a singular finger under your chin and lifted it to make you look up at him. "Good girl." He whispered with intent. You tried to give no outward reaction to the words, but as Spencer had come to predict, your body betrayed you. Goosebumps raced down your crossed arms, and your breathing hitched, even if only slightly.

You didn't break eye contact, to Spencer's amusement. You really should've known better.

"You want me to profile you? Sure. In your essay, you kept mentioning speculation. But, you see, it's not speculation. It's deduction. You would've known and been able to differentiate the two if you weren't so busy rubbing your thighs and biting your lips in my class." His words were accompanied by his thumb coming up to your mouth, running it over the chewed-up skin of your bottom lip.

"You want to know what else I deduced just now?" He didn't wait for your reply as he brought his face closer to yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

"I think you like being called a good girl. But not because of the validation... No... It's the implication that turns you on." His breath scalded the delicate skin of your neck as he spoke.

You urged him to continue with your silence, breath stuck in your throat.

"You see, most girls like you like being called a good girl because they lack external male validation. They're desperate to hear those words from anyone. Not you, though... No..." Spencer laughed before continuing.

"You like it because it implies a level of authority. You love hearing it, especially from me, because it implies that I have the authority to decide for you what you are. And you wanna know what I think?" He leaned back a little to be able to look you in your wide eyes. He traced his finger over your jaw.

"I think you're a little whore. You don't want someone to validate you. You need someone to completely dominate you." He grabbed your chin forcefully. A soft whimper left your lips before you could stop it.

"Your pupils are dilated, your skin is flushed, and you're barely breathing. That's how I know I'm right. And I'm not speculating, darling." The alarmed look you gave him did nothing to deter him.

"Get on your knees." He demanded as he let go of your chin. You did so without question. You looked up at him expectantly, heart beating in your throat.

"Looks like I finally found a way to shut you up. Though, I can think of other ways. You're going to address me as 'Sir' from now on. You won't speak unless spoken to. Am I clear?"

You nodded quickly, spreading your legs to alleviate the pressure quickly building. Spencer raised an eyebrow before putting his shoe between your thighs, putting even more pressure than before.

"I asked. Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes!" You yelped. A smile that could only be described as devilish made itself apparent on your professor's face.

"Yes, what?" He asked as he pushed the point of his shoe further between your thighs.

"Yes, Sir." You all but moaned as you tried to hold yourself up, keeping your back as straight as it would allow you.

"Good girl." He said the riveting words.

You expected him to pull his pants down and force your mouth on him, but he did no such thing.

"You're gonna make yourself cum on my shoe. You better not make any noise." He instructed.

"Yes, Sir." You mumbled as you slowly started grinding against him. You felt your cheeks get redder and redder in embarrassment. You were mortified at the realization that the humiliated feeling only added to the ease of your grinding, getting wetter and wetter. Your underwear was no longer doing much to keep his shoe clean.

You looked up at Spencer, who looked unaffected. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed as if the current situation was nothing but an inconvenience to him. You slowly put your arms around his leg as you moved closer to him.

Soft whines left your mouth as you felt yourself getting closer. You'd never felt as conflicted before. So incredibly turned on, yet so embarrassed to be basically humping his leg.

Suddenly, Spencer ripped his leg away. You lost your support and fell flat on the floor in front of his feet. "That's enough."

"I thought you said I had to make myself cum, Sir?" You could hear you sounded as desperate as you probably looked.

"And I decided I'm not going to let you. Now, who said you could speak?" You quickly closed your mouth. "That's what I thought."

He gripped your upper arm harshly and hoisted you off the floor. You dared to peek at the shoe that had just now been your seat and were embarrassed to find it reflecting the light, unlike its matte counterpart.

Your legs wobbled as Spencer guided you to his desk. It was only now you realized the shutters weren't completely shut, light from the hallway shining down on your face as he pushed it down against the mahogany when he bent you over at the waist. Spencer followed your gaze.

"I guess you'll really have to be quiet, baby. My office hours start in less than an hour." You met his eyes with your own panicked ones. Anybody who did as much as try and look inside past the shutters would see you bent over his desk. He brushed your hair out of your face before flipping your skirt up and examining the sight before him.

"You soaked right through those panties of yours. Better take 'em off." He said as he hooked his fingers under them and pulled them down. You stepped out of them to the best of your ability.

Spencer picked them up, and gave them a short whiff, before walking around his desk. You didn't dare move but followed him with your eyes, confused. He looked at you as he unlocked a drawer, put them inside, and locked it again. You weren't getting those back.

He walked back around and admired the sight for a little before he unexpectantly gave your ass a harsh smack. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt yourself get wetter at the stinging sensation it left behind.

You jumped as he pushed two fingers inside without preparation. He placed his other hand on your back to push you back down against the desk. His eyes were warning you to stay still as he moved his finger expertly inside you. He brought his thumb to your clit, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from making any noise. The circumstances from before had ensured you were nearing the edge concerningly fast.

When Spencer sped up, you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle any noise. You felt your eyes tear up at the intensity of the sensation, so you squeezed them closed. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, Spencer stepped away. His weight against you was what was keeping you up. You felt your knees buckle as a desperate cry left your lips.

"Please, Spencer. Please."

He looked furious as he grabbed your shoulders, turning you around and pushing you back on the desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He pushed your shirt up, exposing more skin to him. He tugged your bra down, not bothering to unclasp it. He tugged roughly at your nipples, making you keen, and the tears finally spill from your eyes.

"Not so tough now, huh?" He mumbled as he undid his belt with one hand. The other was still pawing at your crudely exposed breasts. He didn't bother properly pulling his pants down, only taking his cock out of its confines. You imagined you looked downright filthy compared to how composed the man in front of you still managed to appear. There was a stain on his pants from where your crotch had met his, but other than that, he was pristine.

He gave his cock a few tugs before lining himself up, grabbing your thighs and pushing inside. You couldn't contain the guttural groan that escaped you as the strength of his thrust forced your head off the desk, hanging over the edge. He didn't care as he started pounding away, using his grip on your thighs as leverage.

You could barely breathe, the angle of your neck not allowing much air to flow. Your ears started to ring as blood pooled in your head, making you dizzy as Spencer kept his brutal pace. You tried gripping his arms to pull yourself back up before you passed out, but hardly to any avail. Spencer noticed your struggle and pulled your head back on the desk. The blood rushing back down, along with a particularly harsh thrust, had you moaning his name.

You heard his haggard breath as he continued filling you again and again. The sensation of him inside you drove you crazy, the tears from earlier still fresh on your cheeks. Low groans fell from Spencer's lips when one of his hands moved to your clit, rubbing rough circles.

Just as you'd recovered from your little upside-down stint, Spencer brought the hand still resting on your thigh up to your throat, reclaiming your ability to breathe freely. He squeezed in the exact right spot. Your hands moved to his wrist, not to get him to stop, but as leverage.

"You look so good like this, like a slut for your Professor. Crying on my cock while I decide if you get to breathe." You moaned as your nails dug harshly into his wrist. You were slowly getting lightheaded again.

"You're gonna cum on my cock when I tell you to." He spoke through the sound of skin hitting skin. His voice was strained, low moans reaching your ears.

"Yes, Sir." You struggled to get the words out.

"Good girl," Spencer said once more, giving a few more intentional thrusts deep inside you. A noise that could only be classified as a scream bubbles straight out of your chest when he hit the right spot over and over and over again. He finally released the hold on your neck.

"Cum." The demand had barely reached your ears as your vision went white. You felt his hips stutter against your own, shooting his load in tandem with your own orgasm.

He slowly pulled out and admired the sight of you still trying to recover, legs wide open, dripping with his cum on his desk.

You were on the edge of hyperventilating, all the sensations overwhelming you. Spencer slowly helped you sit up, careful to not let your privates touch the harsh wood of the desk. You let yourself fall against his chest as he held you up.

"Hey, hey. You're okay. Come on, look at me." He spoke softly, in complete contrast to just mere minutes ago. You met his eyes, which had softened tremendously.

"I'm sorry if I was too harsh on you." He quietly apologized, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks.

You shook your head. "No, no... You were right. That was exactly what I needed, I suppose. Good profiler." You chuckled emptily.

Spencer stifled a laugh as he wrapped his arms around you. "Next time, you can just ask for what you want, okay? No more of this little game."

"It was fun, though. Guess I underestimated you, Sir."

Spencer groaned at the title.

"Too soon, baby girl. Maybe clean yourself up before going there again."

You winced as you felt a trickle of his cum down your leg.

"Yeah, maybe." You grimaced. You were going to be sore for the next week.

He lifted your face to his, the action feeling a lot less domineering. His eyes were gentle as he slowly leaned in, placing a delicate kiss on your lips.

"You'll still need to rewrite that essay." He muttered as he pulled away.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, hitting his shoulder lightly before giving him a peck. "Sure thing, Professor."

PART 2

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