#my whiteboard looked boring so i was like fuck it. mouse bites

[housemdenjoyer]

my personal flavour of autism is having a mouse bites whiteboard for my pharm studies

[writing-in-april]

Dr Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (3/?)

Part three: the gift

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: The next meeting rolls around and Reader tries to get Spencer to open up in baby steps. Turns out he was more willing to let her in than she first expected.

Part One, Part Two

Series Masterlist

A/N: Heyyy this is my third part for Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde!!! It’s also the fifteenth installment of my 30 fics in 30 days for April event! The plot is finally about to pick up y’all!!!! I’ve got so many plans where this series is headed (though I don’t know necessarily where it’s going to end) and I’m really excited!!! This chapter brings in other references from non gothic literature as well which was fun to do- these references and metaphors are really fun to craft. I’m curious to see y’all’s reaction to this part- leave me an ask if you want here (I promise I won’t bite 🧛🏻‍♀️) Thanks for reading and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Soft dom Spencer that turns back into slightly mean dom Spencer, Public sex, Masturbation (F), Oral sex (M receiving), Face fucking, Reader has a nickname- I think that’s it let me know if there needs to be anything else

Main Masterlist Word Count: 4.1k 😱

A meeting of the classics was once again scrawled on the whiteboard when you entered the library. It had the usual time 7pm to 11:30pm written right underneath. Instantly you fell down the rabbit hole and into another world, reality was turned on its head whenever you opened those wooden doors. Every encounter you had in the shelves, in the reading rooms, and even at the information desk seemed like you were walking into a world crafted by a surrealist. Everything was just slightly twisted and turned to feel slightly off from the reality outside those doors. It oddly made you feel more at home than your own apartment.

Each time a meeting rolled around you’d get an email notification a few weeks prior, informing you as to what the theme would be. The book club was already more extravagant than any other you had ever heard before, adding to the surrealist nature of where you were located. Last time was a somewhat lavish affair, this time it was coated in fleeting luxury.

Sure, the 1920s theme with the undeniable tinge of influence from The Great Gatsby would always lend itself to luxury, even with cheap decorations. But, the way the decor around you almost felt real told you exactly what your monthly entrance fee was going towards. You could complain about the steep price of admission, it could burn a hole into your wallet if you weren’t so careful. At any rate it did not matter, you were sure they wouldn’t care if you complained, and besides this was the only thing you really every splurged on. Plus there was the added aspect of the person you would no longer be able to indulge in if you let your membership lapse.

It was nice to treat yourself, get a taste of what it would be like to live basking in luxury 24/7. Flutes of champagne were passed around like hot cakes, admittedly they were non alcoholic after an incident a few months prior before you joined with some whiskey. It could have been a rumor fed to you by some of the vapid attendees to stir the pot so the library may cave to make their guests happy. You were going to keep your mouth shut because truth be told you didn’t mind that they were non alcoholic. You wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to be sober for Spencer.

Normally whenever a meeting rolled around you’d gladly be mingling with everyone around you. Even if personally you viewed some of their insights on whatever book they wished to discuss as shallow, seeing another’s perspective was always intriguing.

Something, namely someone, lurking in the shadows had your attention instead. It felt strikingly similar to the night of your first encounter, his eyes piercing into you, undressing you with them. The only thing that had changed is that you knew his name with some small added details. You didn't even know what type of Doctor he was, let alone what kind of man he was. But, you hoped tonight might change your prospects.

You had gotten a peek underneath the mask each time, just enough to pull you in closer. Whatever might lurk beneath, which still may be dangerous, for right now made you thrum with excitement. Spencer was just as surreal to you as the rest of the library, though he was definitely more shadowy than the others. It wouldn’t surprise you if he wasn’t real outside of here.

He could possibly just be a ghost trapped to roam the halls that instead of wanting to scare you, pleasured you. It was a silly thought for sure, but until he divulged more you struggled to convince yourself that he was real, even though his touch certainly did. The world was very different outside the library’s doors and you’d be content to be locked inside of it, that is if Spencer opened his own doors.

You circled each other for a while, neither of you talking to anyone, just staring with lust in your eyes. Tired of this cat and mouse game that you were unwilling to break out of stubbornness, he set down an empty ‘champagne’ flute to weave through the crowd to meet you.

No small talk or pleasantries came out of his mouth when he started your first conversation of the night, “At least you fit the theme this time.”

He had gestured to the dress you had chosen, a simple fringed red dress that very obviously was inspired by the era. It definitely gave you a sense of allure that leaned dark along with your dark lipstick, giving you your own cloak of mystery to match Spencer’s. At least there was a cloak for everyone else; Spencer could read you like an open book even with all your secrets. Spencer just had the ability to speed read them faster than any other human.

There was still depth to you, seemingly boundless, and certainly much more than the staple embodiment of a 1920s woman at a party being eyed at by man. You were no Daisy Buchanan that’s for sure, and Spencer was no Gatsby from what you have seen.

“As I told you last time I did fit the theme, Spencer.” You kept your lips shut tight about the fact that you had partially chosen this dress for him, picking a much more historically accurate style within your budget. Skating around the topic with ease you then teased, “Was that your way of complimenting my dress?”

“No…” That definitely meant yes, just by going off of the way he eyed your curves.

“At least you have it easy, you only have to throw on a suit, which is boring.” He snorted at that and didn’t disagree with your stinging jab at men’s fashion.

“That’s true, I don’t think I would want to see you in a boring suit, Shelley.” Inching closer to you so he possessively put a hand on your waist. He was close enough now that you could feel his breath on the exposed skin on your neck, a shiver trickling down your spine at that. His next words had a different reaction from you, your panties getting damp immediately after, “A dress has easier- access.”

The conversation turned from your typical banter into innuendos covered in mystery just like you both, with Spencer’s not being an act like you were trying to put on. You could let him do whatever he wanted to you again, which you thoroughly enjoyed, but there was a lingering fantasy you hadn’t voiced that had been in your head since he pinned you against the shelves.

“You didn’t let me reciprocate last time.” You whispered into his ear, your dirty intentions hidden by innocent words. The people around you had no idea what was going on, still milling about while you leaned in closer, only a few people looking over at you both curiously before moving on. Your next move was bold, wrapping your hand around his tie to pull him in closer, so you could keep your request a secret for his ears alone, “Will you allow me to return the favor?”

By the way his face twisted up at your words you knew you were testing a limit. All of your encounters thus far had been him touching you, not you touching him.

“Thought you would have forgotten about that by now.” This was his attempt to change the subject, to move on and expect that you’ll drop it just like him.

Everyone you knew called you stubborn for a reason, gripping his tie even harder you then doubled down, “Will you let me?”

It was highly unlikely that you were going to get a verbal response to your request, most likely you were about to get rejected, hard. You had tested your limits throughout your small time together. This however was entirely different and potentially over the line as to what Spencer would willingly allow.

Instead of shutting you out and shutting down he surprised you by opening his mouth to form the word, “Yes.”

With that you started to tug him out of the room, discreetly of course to not attract any unwanted attention and you didn’t pull him by his tie. Your fingers were wrapped around his wrist delicately, his first taste of you touching him while you guided him to a spot for your clandestine affair.

Your eagerness made you too impatient to wait and find a better secluded spot away from the crowd. The corner you chose was beyond risky to say the least, only a wall separating the both of you and the club guests. If you were lucky and went quickly you’d avoid being caught.

You wondered how long it had been since someone had offered to do this for him, instead of him probably forcing them to their knees while he continued to control the encounter with their consent. His steadfast control over each time he touched you had never wavered up until this point.

“You tell me if you want me to stop.”

He gulped hard, giving you a look like he was considering stopping you. Ultimately he kept his mouth shut, letting you drop to your knees and begin to unbutton his slacks. You worked quickly, unsure how much time you had without being caught in this little corner barely off to the side you chose or how long Spencer would let you touch him with impunity.

You hadn’t been able to really get a good look at his cock, either you had been facing away from it or it was trapped in the confines of the slacks he always wore. When you freed him from his boxers you could not help but admire it, even if only for a second.

Beautiful was an odd way to describe a cock, but there was no other word you could really find in the moment while you were on your knees. He was already hard, even leaking at the tip, and all from a few teasing words from your mouth. You’d have to test your affect on him more in the future, it obviously excited him.

When you held it in your hands and licked him from his base to tip, he had to bite on his fist at the suddenness of your touch. You pumped him a few times languidly before bringing the head to your lips and letting it slip into your mouth. He was allowing you to explore without fear of any repercussions. His hand that now rested at the back of your head being the only signal that he could take back the control anytime he wanted.

When you began to bob your head a wave of new precum hit your tongue. The taste of Spencer on your tongue was to put it lightly, intoxicating, you’d be content to taste him everyday if he let you.

Hoping too much would be your downfall if you let it, you pushed it out of your mind so you could be content with the baby steps forward you were taking. This right here, was him being vulnerable, even with you on his knees. You’d have to tread carefully if you wanted another crack in his mask to see even his darkest features, not a chink in his armor that would have him running away injured.

You weren’t sure what made the energy shift in the corner you were on your knees in, you suspected it was the soft caress of your hand along his thigh. He clammed up, suddenly wanting to take back control of the situation, no longer content with being vulnerable. It was quite clear to you that he saw giving up his control as a moment of weakness, just by going off of the once content look on his face that had twisted and seized up in frustration. Whatever he would let you do to him or whatever he wanted to do to you would always leave you wet with desire. It would however, be a lie to say that you didn’t want to see him back in a similar position one day. Getting him to be vulnerable for any extended period of time, even if it was while you were on his knees for him in a typical position for submission, was a form of progress. A little bit twisted, yes, but it still was progress.

Control fell back easily into his hands, now wasn’t the time to fight him on it; you’d be a good girl for now. The hand that had been resting gently on the back of your head tightened its grip to start controlling the pace.

You let your hand let go of his cock, resting them both on his thighs now instead. Your eyes were glassy as you tried to meet his sable irises while he began to thrust into your mouth. All you could really see was his Adam’s apple bobbing, curls falling as his head tipped back with his jaw slack. At first his thrusts had tested the waters, to see how much you could take. They then became more forceful when you gripped his thighs through his slacks and tried to pull him close.

The corner you had pulled him into was more exposed than any previous dalliance. Last time, even though it was out in the open, the stacks of shelves piled high with books shielded you along with his body pinned on top of yours. In comparison, this time you could hear the people laughing and mingling about in the next room over.

That only made you keen, moaning around him softly when you heard someone start a conversation close to the shared wall. Spencer, ever astute to your actions, picked up on what had you moaning around him. He forced your head down as far as you could go, your nose almost nuzzling the hairs at his base. He held you there harshly for a moment while he spoke, “You like it when we’re close to getting caught don’t you? That’s why you chose this spot isn’t it? You aren’t just satisfied with sneaking around, you want to get caught doing it.”

Before you could confirm or deny his questions you had to pull off of him so you could catch your breath. A string of spit connected from your mouth to the top of his cock remained unbroken until he brought his thumb to your mouth so you could continue to suck on something. He bent down to look at you, inspecting your makeup melted by tears and your spit covered lips. When he then moved his thumb from out of your mouth to grip your cheeks hard you whimpered, wondering what you did wrong, “Answer my questions.”

You scrambled to answer to avoid any type of punishment. You couldn’t make him feel good the way you wanted to if he was angry at you. Trying to muster up some conviction failed as your answer still came out shaky, “Y-yes! I-I liikeee it, Doctor!”

Satisfied with your answer and the amount of time your break had been he let go of the grip on your cheeks to resume. He slipped back inside your mouth swiftly, seeing no need to start out slow again. This time when you looked up, you found him meeting your irises with his own making you squirm underneath his piercing gaze.

“Touch yourself, we don’t have time for both of us.” With any other man you would have been irritated because mostly likely they were unwilling to finish a girl off. Spencer however, had proven he was consistently capable of that from you two previous interactions. He was also right, the place you had chosen was going to be flooded with people soon as they left the party. It was around this time that a group of people got bored and left which you didn’t understand. Why would they pay the money if they were just going to leave early?

You maneuvered your hands underneath the fringed edge of your dress, then bypassing your panties by pushing them to the side. There was no need to tease yourself, sucking off Spencer had you soaking through your flimsy lace panties. You pushed two of your fingers inside your entrance, curling them to deliciously hit at that sweet spot inside you. Even though you were enjoying the way he fucked your face in combination with you touching yourself, your fingers didn’t feel as euphoric as Spencer’s long fingers that could pull an orgasm out of you in seconds.

Spencer was nearing his release, his hips stuttering as it came closer. More tears prickled at the corner of your eyes out of frustration that you were having trouble reaching the edge with your own fingers. Spencer of course saw your frustration and began to coax you to the edge,

“Come on Shelley I know you can do it, I know you can make yourself cum for me.” Spencer’s words weren’t nearly as good as your fingers, but it did help that final push towards the edge. Falling over the edge together was a heady feeling, pleasure sparking through your veins while Spencer filled your mouth. You focused on swallowing it all down as best as you could, only a bit escaping the sides of your mouth.

When it was all said and done Spencer tucked himself back into his boxers, then rebuckling the belt holding his slacks up. He then outstretched a hand towards you, who was crumpled on the floor looking absolutely ruined. It was a simple gesture, taking his hand so you didn’t wobble on your heels as much. To you however it seemed like a weighted moment, subtly showing that you were willing to take whatever he may give to you.

He then suddenly pushed a book in your hands, which came seemingly out of thin air, only soon after you had cleaned up the corners of your mouth by licking your lips. You had been just about to clean the remnants of your makeup that was streaming down your cheeks with a makeup wipe that had been in your purse. He had other plans, putting the book in your hands and grabbed the wipe from you. He began to use the wipe to clean you off, caressing your cheeks softly this time. His movements were gentle as the cleanser in the cloth, every gentle touch that came directly after the hard made you want to fall into the dark abyss with him. You had almost moved forward to kiss him until he unintentionally stopped you by starting to wipe your smeared lipstick off. Once he was done with that you then looked down at the book he had forced you to take.

“What is this?” Your brows furrowed in question at the unexpected gift. Your relationship had a loose definition, really none at all, to get a gift felt like it was supposed to mean something. He had gifted you something in the past, the nickname you now couldn’t seem to shake, and you supposed the multiple orgasms could be classified as gifts to some.

This felt bigger than that, at least to you. But, how were you supposed to know what his train of thought was when you didn’t know anything about him. Most of what you did know contradicted each other anyway. There was no way to predict a man who had two distinct sides of him, neither of which he’d divulge more than surface level information about.

“I thought it was quite obvious, it’s a book.” His nonchalant response through you for a loop, causing you to stammer a bit. However, he did not let you form a complete thought, steamrolling you with sudden excitement, “An old copy of Frankenstein to be exact, Shelley.”

Looking down you traced your fingers over the spine on the vintage book. You weren’t sure how old the book was, you’d have to check that later. It wasn’t that you didn’t see the potential value in owning an old edition of a book, but the gesture still confused you. Instead of dwelling on a question that you weren’t going to get a straight answer for if you asked, you tried to tease him, “But I have already read it, you know that.”

He took your jab at his listening skills in stride and again was cagey as always with his response, “I do know that, that isn’t why I bought it for you.”

“Why?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to potentially figure out.” He was now moving to leave the corner, about to leave you hanging in the wind scrambling to figure out whatever he was talking about. You scrambled to follow, which caused you to almost crash into him when he abruptly stopped. “I’ll give you a hint, flip to page 56.”

Flipping it open to the page you noticed that it wasn’t a page of any significance, no famous quotes were highlighted or major climactic scenes happening.

“There isn’t anything in here.” Exasperation was evident in your voice, he was too hard to read, certainly not as hard as the book in front of you. His intentions were the hardest to figure out, he could be stringing you along in his web, bringing you closer until he devoured you like a spider with a fly.

The air itself was filled with monsters, more like potential monsters lurking waiting to reveal their intentions. The dark was often desirable, but it would be naive of you to trust it without question. There was still something about Spencer that made you want to blindly trust without question that his monsters had beauty in them. You couldn’t deny that being devoured by him sounded enticing.

“Look again.” And with a fleeting kiss on your lips that he was gone, slipping back into the party like nothing had happened. It left you to wait until he graced you with his presence next with no way to contact him. At least that’s what you thought until you followed his suggestion and looked again.

There, nestled in between two pages of the book rested a strip of paper. The handwriting on it was messy, slanted heavily in one direction and partially smudged as if written rapidly. You could still make out the ten digits written in navy blue ink, your breath caught up in your throat at that.

At the bottom there was a simple dash then right next to it read his name, Spencer. With no titles or anything else written.

The simplicity of his name written sloppy in pen ink made you want to clutch it to your heart in disbelief. The book already was too much, to big a gesture for what was supposed to just be fucking in the library while saying clever things. You wondered if he had thought this through, thinking that by the state of how it was written it was done impulsively without thought. Though you hoped that was just how he always wrote, it would be another small slice of information of who he truly was.

In reality who knows what he was thinking, a mask was still firmly over his face in front of you. It may have had cracks that gave you glimpses at the man underneath, but it would be a lie to say you even knew the slightest bit about him beyond his name. There were some dots you could connect that may lead to somewhere or nowhere. You didn’t even know what his job was, so you weren’t going to pretend that you could properly analyze his handwriting. He could even be lying about every piece of information given thus far, only using it to pull you in quicker by the spider’s silk he was potentially spinning.

All that was still locked up there in his mind, not unlike when Jekyll locked himself up in his laboratory. You only hoped this phone number signaled that he may be willing to open up his mind to you, even with the serum that could turn him into something dark. He could shut you out, insisting that what he had done was a mistake, then sealing the cracks in his mask closed. But, you were too curious for your own good, you wanted to shatter the mask, to pull away the shroud of mystery, to tell you about the monsters lurking. All you had to do was call him, and maybe he’d let the monsters free.

Part One, Part Two

Ask Me Anything

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All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @boxofsparklingmuses @takeyourleap-of-faith All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99 @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat @anaagraceeberr @ashcakes1918 @reid-me-a-story Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dom!Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump @princesssmooshie @peterpanouat Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: @rainsong01 @dreatine @secretpickleprofessordean @evlfknb