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samuelsdean · 2 years ago

Text

The Dangers of Tennis Skirts

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

genre: fluff

word count: 817

author's notes: this is my first ever blurb! i wrote this to practice writing blurbs & writing this was so fun. also, i hope anon doesn’t mind that i wrote this with a fem!reader in mind & reader noticing spencer getting flustered. i just think it would be a lot funnier that way. thank you for this cute request, anon! i got to practice writing blurbs and it's about shy!spencer? a win for me! i hope you'll love this ♡

“REID, YOU OKAY?” Morgan asked the younger male.

Despite his blatant intelligence and many talents, Spencer Reid is just a man. And just like any hot-blooded guy out there who is interested in exploring the curves and dips of a woman’s body, Spencer can’t help but have his IQ slashed down to sixty, or whatever it was Emily said before. And unfortunately for him, hiding the effect of seeing you in a short, white tennis skirt for the first time is not one of Spencer’s talents.

“Yep,” Spencer said, popping the p as he tried to stop his ogling—cue the word, stop—but failed magnanimously, eyes wide, pulse racing, and mouth gaping.

Morgan frowned at the doctor's weird behavior. Usually, when asked how he is, Spencer would go on tangents that would be relevant to the conversation at hand. A single Yep! would not suffice for the boy genius.

Something is going on with him, Morgan thought.

Worried but still weirded out by Spencer, Morgan followed his line of sight and guffawed at what he found. You just entered the bullpen in a fluffy beige sweater, a white tennis skirt, and with your hair tied with a white ribbon.

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan exclaimed between chuckles. "You are hopeless!"

"Who's hopeless?" Garcia, who just sat on one of the chairs available, interjected.

Morgan continued chuckling and motioned to Spencer, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, and then pointed at you just entering the area. Garcia gasped in happiness. She always thought you and boy genius would make the perfect couple.

And like Spencer, Garcia has many talents. One of which is playing Cupid.

Making the most out of Spencer’s inattentiveness—busy staring at you—Garcia made quick work of calling you over to talk about your cute outfit.

“Hey, Y/N!” Garcia blurted out. “I love LOVE your outfit. We all do.”

She made sure to gesture at Morgan and definitely at Spencer. “Right, boy genius?”

This interrupted Spencer in reverie and unfortunately for him, he’s not the most subtle when he’s back from being lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Reid?” You asked, none the wiser at the obvious display of Spencer getting distracted by your outfit, specifically, your skirt.

Spencer’s eyes widened at your concern. Frightened you’d find out the reason he was dazed was because of you, he instantly stood up from his seat, failing to notice that an electric cord was stuck beneath the chair. And with his quick scrambling, coupled with the fact that his reflexes are akin to that of a toddler just learning to walk, Spencer ended up falling face-first into the floor.

At his clumsiness, Morgan snickered loudly, earning him a slap from Garcia with a matching, “You are not helping at all!” And a glare from you to which he raised his arms in defeat. You held your palm out for Spencer to reach, who was busy trying to dust off his pants, not noticing it was you helping him up until he looked up.

Aside from talents, Spencer was blessed with the gift of hard luck. And unfortunately for him, it seemed his hard luck always tripled in front of a pretty girl—you. Because instead of looking into your eyes when he looked up, his eyes landed on the plush softness of your thighs, which you haven’t failed to notice.

Spencer never wanted to dig a hole and jump in it so badly before today.

You were already giggling, cheeks reddening at the thought of your effect on the genius. Imagine reducing a cute guy with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to a clumsy mess on the floor. Quite flattering, especially if he happened to be the guy you have been crushing on for quite some time now. Not that he knew that, of course. But a girl has gotta take her chances, right? And what better way to tease the hell out of your crush than when he was face-first into your thighs?

“You know, Reid,” You said coolly, “Guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

Spencer’s eyes bulged out even more while Morgan was belly laughing at this point, Garcia right behind him, giggling in delight.

“I-I uh,” Spencer began to ramble, trying to come up with a tangent that could get him out of this mess, failing to remember that just like him, you were gifted with many talents as well. And that is making the most out of an unfortunate—not unfortunate, your crush is face first on your thighs!—situation.

“Sorry, Spence,” You chortled, ruffling his hair. “You’re not getting out of this one. We are going out after this case.”

This got Morgan falling out of his chair in laughter, Garcia giggling along, and Spencer’s pinkened cheeks resembling an actual tomato with their redness.

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sykoangels · 2 months ago

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Taste

Pairing: fem!reader x spencer reid

warning: petty banter and toxic angry sex

author note: Hey everyone! I wanted to share that I'm starting a new fanfiction series inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's "Short N Sweet." This series will feature different fandoms, so there's something for everyone to enjoy! I got the idea from @thinkinonsense , so be sure to show her some love too! If you're not into Sabrina Carpenter, @thinkinonsense also created a fanfic based on Ariana Grande's "Positions" album, so feel free to check that out as well!

Next part: Please Please Please

Working at the FBI can be quite challenging, especially when you have a history with one of the top profilers in the field. Dr. Spencer Reid is like a walking supercomputer, brilliant yet endearingly dorky, which happens to be your type. There's something undeniably attractive about Spencer – perhaps it's his unassuming appearance as if he's never been in the presence of a woman, or maybe it's his intellect, which could put a dictionary to shame.

Either way, that’s what attracted you to him at first, and over time you guys developed more of a romantic relationship. But through this romantic relationship came problems and slight differences. Spencer always pushed you away no matter what it was so confusing every time something was going well. You guys would go three steps back. Unfortunately, you guys weren’t deemed to be together so breaking up an inevitable. What surprised you was that Spencer moved on fairly quickly with someone who is a carbon copy of you or at least tries to be. His new girlfriend Maxine was you in a different font. Your mannerisms were the same. The way she walked was the same compared to you the way she laughed. It was freaky. It was almost like she wanted to live in your skin like she was some creepy stalker living your life like somebody's body double.

As you started to pay closer attention, you couldn't help but notice certain things. For instance, when Maxine started accompanying Spencer to FBI events as his plus one, you began to feel uneasy. At a recent retirement party for a coworker, You spotted Maxine wearing a red mini dress with her hair slicked back, and she was even wearing a pair of heels that you had left at Spencer's house and never got back. The heels were scuffed at the bottom, indicating that they weren't new. What's more, You noticed that Spencer started repeating jokes and phrases that you had previously shared with him. These incidents made you increasingly aware of what was happening.

Anytime you mentioned this to anybody else they just called you crazy especially your coworkers like Garcia and JJ. They didn’t realize it until today since we solve the case in California Rossi was taking everybody out for drinks at the local bar down the street from the office. It was a casual thing he always did, but spencer decided to invite his girlfriend as a plus one . Nobody really cared and happily let him bring his girlfriend. It wasn’t a big deal. But you knew this was the perfect opportunity to prove a point.

The dim, flickering light of the bar's coatroom cast long, dancing shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that was equal parts intoxicating and intense. The air was thick with the rich scent of aged whiskey and supple leather, mingling with the faint aroma of stale cigarettes. You were seated at the table next to JJ, delicately sipping on your perfectly crafted peach mojito, while discreetly observing the movements of Maxine and Spencer throughout the room. Your keen eyes didn't miss a single detail, and your focus was unwavering, like a detective on a critical case. JJ, sensing your intense scrutiny, playfully rolled her eyes before speaking. "You know, taking a picture would last longer, Y/N," she admitted while sipping her own drink. "Knowing Maxine, she would probably try to extract my DNA from the photo, clone me, and create a skin suit out of it."

"I can see where you're coming from," JJ said, her touch gentle as she gripped your shoulder. "He did move on pretty quickly, but you have to let it go. I doubt that she's trying to be you." As JJ's words sank in, a heavy sigh escaped from the depths of your mind. Perhaps JJ was right. Maybe you had been letting your imagination run wild. But as the night wore on, the unsettling feeling of Maxine trying to imitate you resurfaced. You could sense her eyes fixed on you, and every time you glanced in her direction, she would meet your gaze with either a forced smile or a look filled with spite. Finally, the team gathered for a toast after a challenging case. Rossi expressed his love for the team, emphasizing that each member was a valuable part of the cohesive unit. As Rossi finished up the toast, Maxine stood up and proposed her toast, looking directly at you as she spoke. "I just want to thank you guys for letting me join you today. I can see why every one of you is a valuable part of the team. Well, at least some of you. I also want to thank my fabulous boyfriend Spencer for being my rock, especially when things are hard, and for loving me unconditionally even though there are a lot of bitter people in this world. Spencer will always love me unconditionally no matter what comes his way."

Maxine's words cut like a knife, a calculated and direct attack that made you glance over at JJ to see if she had also caught it. The look on JJ's face confirmed that she had. It was clear that Maxine's barb was aimed at you. JJ's expression silently pleaded with you not to react, but you couldn't help it. There was no way you were going to let someone who bore a resemblance to you but was less attractive talk about you like that, especially to your face. "Yeah, and knowing Reid and his eidetic memory, I know exactly who you're thinking about when he's with you, and it's definitely not you, Maxine. No matter how hard you try to wrap your head around it, you will never be the girl he thinks about. There will always be one degree of separation between all three of us, and you know why," you said bitterly before taking the last sip of your drink and getting up to retrieve your coat from the coat room.

Spencer sat there fuming but trying his hardest not to show it because he you were right unfortunately. The rest of the team awkwardly looked at each other then back at Maxine as she walked off to the bathroom to collect herself. Meanwhile, spencer was going to go look for you. He was annoyed with your behavior tonight and he needed to set some things straight with you well at least for right now.. You leaned against the cold metal of a locker ordering a uber when you heard footsteps coming from a converse sneaker scraping against the floor, making that weird squeak sound.

"Why do you keep doing this?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar area. "Why do you keep pushing Maxine? What do you want from me?" You met his gaze head-on, your lips curling into a bitter smile. "What do I want? I want you to admit that she's just a poor imitation of what we had, Spencer. I want you to stop pretending that you're happy with her." Spencer let out an exasperated grunt you could see the vein in his forehead pulse he was fuming. "Stop playing games, Y/N. You left me. You walked away, and now you can't stand the thought of someone else being with me?"

You scoff in disbelief at his claims, feeling like he's trying to manipulate you. "I didn't walk away, Spencer. You pushed me out. You couldn't handle what we had, so you replaced it with a cheap knockoff." Spencer's eyes flashed with something dangerous. Before you could react, he locked the door to the storage room and placed a large step stool against it. Then, he turned back to you, staring into your eyes with a mix of yearning and regret. "Is that what you think? That I replaced you?" He said looking at you with that puppy-like gaze he always had.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Isn't it obvious? She's everything I was to you—everything we were together. But it's not real, Spencer. It'll never be real." For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you almost palpable. Then, without warning, Spencer's lips crashed down onto yours, rough and desperate. The kiss was a mixture of heat and fury, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. You responded instinctively, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kissed him back with equal intensity.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled to steady his breathing. "Is this what you wanted?" he gasped, his voice raw and slightly whiny. "To see if I still want you?" You pressed yourself closer, feeling the hardness of his arousal pressing against your thigh. "No," you murmured, your voice trembling. "I wanted you to show me." Spencer a breathy groan slipped out his throat, his hands sliding down to cup your ass, lifting you effortlessly until your legs wrapped around his waist. The cold metal of the coat rack bit into your back as he pinned you against it, the sensation both startling and exhilarating

"God, you drive me insane," he muttered, his lips grazing your neck as he peppered kisses along your skin. "I can't think when you're around." You laughed softly, the sound shaky and breathless. "Good. Maybe then you'll finally understand how it felt when you shut me out." He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability beneath the anger. "I'm sorry baby I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice reeked of forgiveness and arousal. "I never meant to hurt you."

You nodded, unable to find the words to respond. All you could focus on was the way his lips felt against your skin, the way his hands roamed over your body with a familiarity that made your heartache. Spencer's hand slid under your skirt, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. You gasped, arching your hips into his touch, craving more. He groaned, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he slipped a finger inside you, coaxing you open with practiced ease. "Fuck," you moaned, your head falling back against the locker as he began to move his finger in slow, deliberate strokes. "Spencer..."

"Tell me what you want, I will do it I want to make you feel good,” he demanded, his voice soft and whiny but commanding. "Tell me how much you need this." You bit your lip, resisting the urge to melt into his hands when he whines like that. "I want you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, Spencer. Please”

He obeyed getting on his knees and slowly gliding your panties off slipping them off in one swift motion. He looked up at you with his big brown chocolate puppy dog eyes with that submissive twitch in his eyes before circling your clit and kissing it. It was so obvious he missed you, especially by the way he was eating you out. “Fuck~ you missed me badly huh?” You say gripping his greasy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy.

You can feel Spencer nodding agreeing to what you were saying he started sucking on your clit before placing two fingers inside of you stretching a lot slowly something he used to do quite often when you guys had a hard day at work to at least help put a smile on your face. Your eyes roll back as his slender fingers stretch you out. You felt yourself get close to an orgasm until Spencer stopped and looked up at you his face all wet with a pleading look on his face. He motioned you to face the wall so you obeyed his request. Spencer's hands skimmed over your thighs as he positioned himself behind you. You braced yourself against the cool metal, your breath hitching as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. "Ready?" he asked, his voice desperate and hoarse.

You nodded, biting your lip as you prepared for the inevitable intrusion. Spencer gripped your hips tightly, aligning himself perfectly before thrusting into you in one smooth motion. You cried out, the sensation both painful and exquisite as he filled you completely. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice laced with desperation. "Just how I remembered." He began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one hitting your spot with perfect precision. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the small space, adding to the intensity of the moment.

"Harder," you begged, your voice breaking. "Please, Spencer, harder." He obliged, picking up the pace as he slammed into you with renewed vigor. The friction between your bodies grew more intense, the heat pooling in your core as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax.

"Look at me baby," Spencer commanded, his voice whiny and desperate but with a hint of urgency. "Watch me fuck your brains out, baby” You turned your head, meeting his gaze over your shoulder. The sight of his face, twisted with exertion and desire, sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing through you. He reached around to pinch your nipple, twisting it between his fingers as he continued to pound into you.

"That's it, baby" he whimpers. "Take it. Take every fucking inch. You can do it” You screamed, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Your muscles clenched around him, driving him over the edge as well. Spencer shouted your name, his release flooding you as he buried himself deep inside. Panting, he pulled out slowly, leaving you trembling against the coat rack. He leaned against you, his forehead resting on the back of your neck as he caught his breath.

"This changes nothing," he whispered, his voice raw and unsure. "We still have to deal with Maxine."

You turned to face him, your heart aching at the conflicted look in his eyes. “I don’t have to deal with anything you have to come to terms that you will never find a girl like me again Boy genius. You need figure out who you wanna be with. A botched copy or the real deal. I will see you at work tomorrow spencer and I will be expecting an answer. Just remember I leave quite the impression on men like you.

You quickly find your panties slipping them back on grabbing your coat and plants a kiss on spencer’s lips leaving a red kiss stain on his lips before walking out to catch your Uber

#sykoangels #sykoangelssmut #fanfics #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #smutty fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #need that

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ikinremu · 1 month ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 4 | FINGERING/ORAL X SPENCER REID

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fingering, Oral (F receiving), Praise

You were not focused, at all. Or, you were, but on something entirely unproductive.

The lights in your apartment were dim, and comfortably so. Besides, that combined with the finely printed pages lying on your lap was enough to have your focus drifting elsewhere.

You found it far more interesting to watch Spencer's fingertips glide over the open book before him, tracing each neatly printed line as his eyes flickered alongside.

You'd been observing the very same sight all day; back at the office, and now once more. It was simple: you couldn't help yourself, and being observant as he was, you had no doubt Spencer could either.

"Are you alright?" He piped up all of a sudden, eyes no longer darting over the text.

You raised your gaze back toward his face, offering an innocent smile, "Fine, why?"

He shrugged gently, ridding his thighs of the heavy novel as he settled his eyes solely on you, "You just seem a little distracted."

You let out a long, shaken exhale, hopeful that the truth wouldn't play out upon your face, "Oh, right. Long day."

Spencer pondered for a short moment, clearly mulling over something unknown. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "You sure?"

He followed the inquiry with a single, swift motion of his hand, trailing his warm palm across the span of your thigh, stroking the pad of his thumb back and forth slowly - purposefully slowly.

You gave a small nod, peering down at his hand once more. The digit rolled dangerously near to the hem of your skirt, slipping beneath the tight band for one torturous moment.

Wanting, needing to absorb every second, you battled with your own gaze, struggling to draw its intent back to the face opposite you. A knowing, yet barely readable, expression painted Spencer's soft features as he stared back.

He maintained the gradual pace as his palm swept over your thigh, now completely buried beneath the firm fabric of your skirt. His eyes continued to linger, studying your expression with each and every minor change.

"Spence-" You practically spluttered out the name, feeling his fingertips crawl nearer and nearer to the ache between your legs.

"I'm not stupid." He glanced at you intently, a calculated - yet subtle - smile puppeteering his lips.

Your eyes jumped a little wider as the tip of Spencer's thumb ghosted over the centre of your underwear. Once more, his gaze wandered upward, expectancy painting his face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." He whispered

so very quietly, pressing a soft peck to your upper-thigh, only the likes of a mere inch between his mouth and your sodden cunt.

He slid his hand beneath the elastic band of your underwear, fabric slick along his slender fingers.

Rather sharply, you inhaled.

Spencer's rich eyes met your own, dilating further as he drank in the sight of you, slowly brushing his fingers over the bare arousal beneath your panties.

His pace was jarringly slow as he pushed two digits within the warmth between your legs.

A gentle, somewhat breathy moan escaped your mouth as he slid inside. At an instant, his gaze fell downward, observing the way his fingers disappeared in and out of you as he mumbled to himself, "So pretty."

Your stomach fluttered as he entered, feeling your skin crawl with heat. Spencer's vacant hand seized your own suddenly, intertwining his fingers through yours.

You couldn't resist the way your eyelids fell down, darkening like blinds as his fingers began to pump softly in and out.

Encasing your own, Spencer's hand offered yours a sudden squeeze, "Open for me, love. Don't hide those pretty eyes."

Your chest rose and fell in deep succession, features contorting as you revelled in the sensation of his digits curling inside you, "Shit, Spence-“

"I know, squeeze my fingers." He whispered, breath hot against your flesh, "That's a good girl."

Abruptly, he picked up the pace of his hand, filling your desperate cunt with increasing need. Your teeth punctured the pillow of your bottom lip as he taunted your g-spot, drawing the sensitivity from your body with broken whines.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, entranced by the way your body responded to his touch. "Take my fingers so well, pretty girl."

His thumb pressed against the swell of your clit, circling softly, matching the motions of his fingers curling within your drenched cunt.

“Lean back.” Spencer murmured, planting a long, warming kiss to your inner thigh, never once relenting his touch, "Lift those hips for me."

A quiet whimper escaped the part of your lips as you raised your hips a little, pushed further toward him as you gave his hand a firm squeeze.

“There you go.. perfect.” He praised, a prideful smile toying with his lips as he began pumping his fingers faster, "So good for me..”

Without warning, he hooked his arms beneath your exposed thighs, hauling your legs over his shoulders. Immediately, his touch reached far deeper, your soaked pussy now sitting a mere inch from his face.

Your breath caught in your throat, taken aback by the sudden forwardness of his action. His breathing was a foggy, humid cloud against your skin, the pad of his thumb taunting your clit in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Fuck, Spencer-"

He chuckled, and without warning his tongue joined the notions of his fingers, licking slow stripes up your cunt, underwear tugged aside.

He flicked his tongue quickly against your swollen, sensitive clit, making you writhe in desperation atop the couch as his fingers dug into your palm.

“Needed to taste you.” Spencer murmured, breathing heavily as his mouth continued to work at the pace of a man starved, "So fucking good."

Beyond your control, your hips began to buck weakly against his mouth as he suckled at your clit, skilful in the way his digits slid in and out of your dripping entrance.

“That’s it, let go for me.” He exhaled, lips sucking slightly harsher by the moment, drawing your clit between his soft, damp lips, "Show me how good my fingers feel inside you.”

You simply couldn’t control the endless moans pouring from your mouth, head falling back for a moment as Spencer lapped hungrily at your cunt.

"So close..." Your chest heaved beneath the fastenings of your blouse, "Don't stop-"

Spencer’s lips worked hungrily at the centre of your arousal, fingers pumping simultaneously, teasing the sensitivity of your g-spot at an unbearable rate, “My pussy to fuck.”

Feeling you clench around his thrusting digits, twitching against his tongue, he only upped the intensity. Knowingly, he drew you nearer and nearer to a release as the familiar sensation began to wind tight in the pit of your stomach.

His breath tickled your upper thighs, tongue licking desperately as his fingers filled your cunt so very perfectly.

Suddenly, the coil in your stomach snapped. The force of your orgasm struck your body, hips bucking instinctively against his touch, his arms holding your thighs firmly down over his shoulders, riding you through the high.

Spencer continued the motions, never once pausing as you bucked in sensitivity against him, mumbling against the taste of you, "Making a pretty mess of yourself on my fingers, so beautiful..”

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please note that in the process of kinktober works releasing, I’m also working through requests - if you’ve sent one in then thank you as always for your patience!!

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #kinktober #kinktober list #kinktober 2024 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut

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beelmons · 2 years ago

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44. “I saw you naked once. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

45. “How are you so oblivious? I’m trying to tell you I’m fucking horny!” with spencer also he would literally memorize your body

Mini skirts. Tight shirts. Clevage. Accidental falls on his lap. Caresses on the thigh. You had used every move on your book, albeit questionably outdated, to get his attention, and that wasn't even through out the week, it was just this morning.

You couldn't get Spencer Reid to look at you, let alone sleep with you. Regardless of how badly you wanted that. One would think with his ability to read body language he would have already noticed that you were practically oozing pheromones in his direction, like an animal in heat, and yet he continued to drift his sight whenever you bent over to obnoxiously pick up the eleventh pen you had dropped since you got to the office. Everyone else enjoyed the show, everyone but the one person it was directed to.

Needless to say, your mood took a hit. Scratch that, you were straight up sad. You had heard chatter from Penelope and JJ that he liked you, and you decided to go for it only to find out, allegedly, that he didn't have the least interest in you.

You mopped around the rest of the day, and you had changed into more comfortable clothes you carried on your go-bag; what was the point on looking hot if he wasn't even gonna notice? Time flew by and night fell, everyone went home on time, thank god, but you chose to stay behind. The only thing worse than being horny for your uninterested coworker was sitting at home alone masturbating to the thought of him.

"You're not leaving?" his voice startled you a bit, forcing you to look up from the file you were working on.

"No." you answered dryly, uncharacteristic of you "Got a lot of stuff to do."

He stood there with his usual awkward demeanor, the same one you found utterly adorable and annoyingly attractive. His hands fiddled with the strap of his bag, deciding whether to simply let you be or intervene in your clearly bad mood.

"Are you okay?" he asked doubtfully.

"You know what? I'm not." you, somehow, gathered the courage to say, you stood up from your desk and closed the folder annoyedly, your lower body rested against the edge of the surface, your arms folded over your chest "Do you even like me?" you asked.

"What? Of course I like you!" he blurted out desperately, dropping his bag to his side to hurriedly stand in front of you "I consdier us to be very good friends."

"That's not— " you had to stop yourself, there was no point in threading lightly around Spencer, you knew that "I have been trying to get your attention the entire day, and you won't even spare me a glance."

"I can't look at you while we're working! I immediately get—" he also had to force his voice to stop and lower, clearing his throat in the process, it was late but not that late, people could still be around. He took a deep breath in, trying his best not to perish out of embarrassment at his confession "One time, Hotch asked me to go get you for a briefing. You were in the locker rooms, it was an accident, I swear, I didn't expect to see you naked, but I did." his face had tinted a lovely red, and his hands were having a hard time keeping still "I can't stop thinking about it. If I as much as look at you, I will get excited."

You swallowed an anticipated knot in your throat, and a pulsating sensation took over your lower body.

"I'm pretty sure there's a way I could help you with that." you extended your arms to have them laying on his shoulders, promptly wrapping them around his neck.

"There is, actually, you could start buttoning your shirts properly." he said, and you had to roll your eyes.

Instead of saying something else, you tugged him forward to let your lips land on the side of his jawline. He lost his balance for a second, having to press his palm against the desk for support. Soft moans were coming out from his lips at the licks and gentle sucks you would take on his skin trailing down his neck.

"How oblivious can you be?" you muttered against his skin before moving to his mouth, your teeth dragging his bottom in a playful nibble "I'm trying to tell you that I'm fucking horny."

Your words barely had left your mouth before he was attacking it with his own. His hips pressed forward and you could feel the harded bulge rub against your thighs.

It was the rustling of his belt being pulled open what let you know you had finally cracked Spencer Reid, and you were in for a good night of being rewarded for that.

#this one is not so smutty i am very sorry #couldn't quite figure out how to make it so #more like foreplay #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #blurb: mine #blurb: spencer #blurb: smut

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ohwowimlonley · 11 months ago

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The Monster’s Gone (He’s on the Run) - Spencer Reid

Summary - a night in with your boyfriend of four months leads to some disturbing secrets being spilled

Word Count - 3862

Warnings - angst angst angst, kind of graphic depictions of trauma, past non-con, supportive spencer, so much crying, making out, the beginning of smut, nudity, self-sabotage, blowjobs (kinda)

A small note - the backstory for this is based on my own personal experience so pls be kind when commenting/reblogging

Your boyfriend is perceptive by nature, not by training. He knows what he does not because he spent years studying (though it did help), but because it is impossible for him to walk into a room without noticing everything, and drawing to his own conclusions. Some might call this tedious, or difficult to live with, but this is your Spencer, and there isn’t anything you find tedious about him.

It is because of his perceptive nature that you’re forced to tell him the truth about yourself.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, just past four o’clock, but you’re already curled up in bed with Spencer because he’s just come home after a week away on a case and neither of you have a clue when he’ll be called away again. One of his old French movies is droning on in the corner of the room, but you’re not looking at it. You’re looking at your Spencer; at his barely stubbly jaw, his hair that's just beginning to curl at the ends, the way his lips move in sync with the words the actors speak on the screen.

“Did you know that in the original script-” you cut off his attempt at speaking by landing a rather forceful kiss on his chapped lips as he drew a deep breath in. It takes him by surprise, but it isn’t more than a few seconds before both of his hands are coming up to cup at your jaw and his tongue is pushing against your lips. You graciously let him in, manoeuvring one of your hands to tangle through your boyfriend’s unbrushed locks, pulling ever so gently and coaxing a whine out of his mouth.

The two of you remain like that for a few blissful minutes, breathing in each other’s air and tasting each other’s tongues. Eventually, you give in to your body’s desires and begin rolling your hips against his. Spencer stifles a gasp against your exposed neck and moves one of his hands down to grip at your waist, not harsh enough to bruise but enough to know that he’s there through the haze of your mind.

Again, these small ministrations carry on for the next few minutes, just the two of you in your own little bubble, safe from everything else in the world.

Eventually, Spencer grows more frantic, and so do you, chasing the friction his plaid pyjama bottoms give you, rubbing up against your cotton shorts and pressing against you just right. Your lips detach from one another, and you’re left panting into one another’s open mouths, grinning madly. What changes the whole ordeal for you is when Spencer begins pushing you by the shoulders, just gently, but you still find yourself sliding down, down the mattress until you’re surrounded by the long kicked away duvet between his knees and you’re face to face with a very obvious bulge. In the heat of the moment, Spencer must mistake your wide eyes for surprise at his size (which, in all honesty, is fairly impressive) and your quickened breathing in response to the intense make out from not seconds before. But neither of those things are true. You’re trapped in a whole other world.

“Down,” it’s gruff, and the hand shoving at your shoulder feels almost identical to Spencer’s. This time, however, you voice your concerns as soon as they arise.

“Gentle,” you remind him. It doesn’t work.

“Oh calm down, it’s not that bad,” and then he’s quiet, just the sound of his fly unzipping and then a choked gasp coming from your lips as he shoves his cock between them.

“Honey?” Spencer clocks onto something this time, but you’re already pushing it from the forefront of your mind. It’s not that bad, you remind yourself. You just shake your head with what you hope looks like a genuine smile, and busy your fingers by working on pulling his trousers down. Maybe, maybe if you do it this once, with Spencer, then it will all get better. You can trust your spencer.

And again, it’s okay for the first few minutes. You go through the motions, not entirely present but not completely gone. You find yourself wishing you could stop, but in that very same moment, Spencer is gripping at your hair and tugging you further down onto himself and all of a sudden, you’re right back there.

You try to pull back, desperate to relieve the sudden pressure against the back of your throat, but his hands keep you in place. In a bid to get his attention, you cover one of his hands with yours, but he doesn’t budge, not even when you dig your nails in. He just chases his high faster and faster, bucking up into the back of your throat. Maybe he just didn’t hear you, or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself to stay sane. But there’s no way he didn’t notice the tears dripping from your cheeks onto his body.

You’re pulled back to the present by a particularly harsh pull on your hair and a brushing of his tip against the back of your throat that has you gagging harshly and pulling away with as much strength as you can muster. Tears, the same tears as that night, fall in rivulets down your cheeks, welling your neck and falling all the way down to the hair at the base of your neck and the dips of your collar bones.

Distantly, you can hear Spencer calling your name, but you’ve gone numb. Everything is numb. Your ears are buzzing. Your fingers feel like strange entities attached to you. A pair of soft hands wrap around your wrists, and it’s only now that you realise you’ve been tugging on the roots of your hair. You squeeze your eyes closed as tight as you can, saving yourself from the disappointed gaze you just know Spencer is casting in your direction. Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything.

“Honey?” Fuck. You keep your eyes closed, praying that he might just leave you alone. No such luck, “honey, I think you’re having a panic attack, is there any way that I can help you?”

Help you? You expect him to shout at you, maybe storm off into the next room as a punishment for ruining his orgasm, not to be so gentle. You take in a deep shuddering breath and blink your eyes open cautiously, immediately averting your eyeline from your boyfriend’s, shrinking away from his grip on your wrists, and he lets you do so without complaint.

“Okay, no touching,” out of the corner of your eye, you can see him nodding to himself, pulling himself further from you, but not so far that you can’t reach for him if you want to. He lets you breathe for a moment, reminding you gently every time it’s needed to stop pulling at your hair with a quiet but reassuring quip of ‘hands, sweetheart’.

“Clean,” you need to feel clean again. You don’t realise you’d said it out loud until Spencer stands up and offers a hand to you. It lingers in the air between you, and it’s clear he isn’t forcing you to take it. Still, you just avert your eyes again, tears falling faster than a waterfall and your ribs begin aching with the effort to keep breathing.

“That’s okay, honey,” he drops his arm without complaint, but you still flinch at the sound of his arm slapping back against his chest, “do you think you can follow me to the bathroom?”

You nod, and keep nodding even as you stand up because the repetitive motion is comforting even if it’s making your head throb and your vision unusable. You follow Spencer's feet as you trudge to the bathroom, only just registering the fact he’s gone soft again and is hidden back away in his pyjamas.

He pulls on the string to click the bathroom, and suddenly you’re both bathed in fluorescent yellow light, and you’re pinching back a wince at the sudden brightness. Spencer seats himself on the side of the bath, looking up at you without expecting you to look back.

“Do you want me to turn the shower on, or would you like to use the sink?” He points to each of them, speaking slowly so you can understand through your heaving breaths. You raise a shaking, tentative hand and point in the direction of the shower, to which Spencer beams with pride, “well done, honey. Do you want me to make it how you like it?”

You think for a moment, before shaking your head with closed eyes, “cold,”

“Cold? You’re cold, sweetheart?” A gentle sob lets him know that he isn’t correct, “you want the shower cold?”

You neither nod nor shake your head, but your crying decreases in volume just enough so that Spencer knows he’s correct. You take the next few minutes to try your hardest to bring your breathing back to normal, inhaling the pleasant scent of one of your shower melts dissolving as your boyfriend fiddled about with the temperature.

“Okay, honey, this is all ready for you. Do you need my help in there or would you like to be alone,” you indicate the latter, and he nods, “that’s okay, I’ll be just outside that door if you need me, do you want me to help you get undressed before I go?”

You contemplate your shaking hands. Would they be strong enough to pull the suddenly very heavy fabric of his hoodie over your head? Before you work yourself up too much, you give him a shaky, somewhat aggressive nod and hold your arms up in the air. It takes him a few minutes to completely undress you, pausing after removing each article to ensure you’re okay. When you’re eventually nude in front of him, his gaze doesn’t drop from your eyes. Logically, you should know that he’s doing it to ensure you feel safe in his presence, but all your panic-warped brain can comprehend is that you can’t suck your boyfriend’s dick without crying and now he won’t even look at you naked.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” His soft, somewhat unsure voice brings you back to semi-lucidity. You’re not quite able to choke back the chest bursting sub that rips from your throat at the thought of him leaving you. You squeeze your eyes shut and clamp a hand over your mouth in the hopes of quelling your embarrassment even by just the smallest bit.

Your knees buckle under the weight of your anxiety and you have to grip onto the porcelain of the bathtub next to Spencer’s thigh to keep from falling over.

It’s clear to you he doesn’t know what to do; his hands splaying across the lip of the bathtub, as if he’s about to stand, but he doesn’t, and his mouth gapes as if he’s about to whisper reassurances in your ear, but his voice fails him. He’s stuck, waiting for you to give him the smallest indication of what to do, what to say.

His prayers are answered seconds later with a bruising grip on his bicep, your eyes wide and shining with tears as you finally, finally make eye contact with him, and Spencer can physically feel his heart shatter with your next words.

“P- please don’t leave me, I can- I can do it better I promise, just let me try it again, I won’t- won’t mess up this time, just don’t leave me,” you wail up at him desperately, forcing your way down onto your knees and taking advantage of Spencer’s momentary shock to push his pyjama pants down to his knees and grasp at his now soft cock, “please, I can do it,”

“Oh,” he doesn’t quite manage to blink away his tears this time, and a droplet of his sadness lands on your cheek. You look up at him, and he crouches down to your level tucking himself away again despite your protests. His knees hit the floor just in front of yours and he reaches up gently to cup your chin in his hands, “honey I want you to listen to me, really listen to me, okay?”

You hiccup your way through a nod.

“You don’t- you don’t ever, ever have to do that again, okay?” His eyes bore into yours, nodding along to his own words, “whoever made you think that way was wrong, and I will tell you everyday for the rest of my life if I have to. I will never let anyone hurt you like that again, okay? You’re safe with me, and you can always tell me no,”

“But- but what if-“ you choke down a sob, but Spencer brushes a calloused thumb over your cheekbone, shushing you ever so gently.

“No, baby, no what ifs,” he says it with a finality that has you biting down on your bottom lip and jerking your head up and down, but your boyfriend must tell from your face that you’re not totally absorbing the words coming out of his mouth, “okay sweetness, let’s talk about this later, you wanna get in the shower now?”

“Hmph,” is your only reply, and you’re glad Spencer’s so good at reading your face because he helps you stand up and hook your legs over the lip of the bath.

“Okay, I’ll wait right out here and you can take a minute to yourself,” he seats himself on the closed lid of the toilet, and keeps his eyes a polite distance away from your body as you step under the cold spray of the shower.

The shock of the cold spray forces you to draw in a deep breath, not quite stopping your hyperventilation but drawing it out enough so that your head stops spinning. You try not to think about it before sticking your head underneath the waterfall of ice cold water.

You close your eyes and press the heel of your hand to your sternum, hearing your heart rate gradually slow its pulsating in your ears. You’re face-first in the spray, but you make no effort to angle your head upwards, allowing the hair at the crown of your head drip frigid droplets of water down your nose and onto your chin.

Over the roar of the rushing water, you are only just able to hear the soft sounds of Spencer sniffling. You can’t bring yourself to look over, knowing that he’s crying over you, all because you can’t buck up and be a good girlfriend.

The next few minutes pass in relative silence, with you trying to ignore the concealed sounds of Spencer crying for the sake of your own sanity and him keeping a dillengent eye on you as you scrub your entire body clean of any evidence from the night's activities. When the time finally comes to turn off the water and step out, you find yourself keeping eye contact with your feet.

Before you’re even able to think of getting the towel off the hook next to you, it’s already been wrapped around you and you’re being lifted from the tub by Spencer. Wordlessly, he guides you back into his bedroom, hands hovering awkwardly around your waist, still unsure as to if you’d react badly to him touching you. He gets you sat down and sets about finding you some clothes. He holds up a pair of boxers to himself, then shakes his head and snatches up a set of grey sweatpants and one of his silly little casual shirts with a slogan akin to one you’d see in a Spiderman movie.

“Arms up for me, sweetness,” he gives the lightest tap to your elbow, prompting you to hold your arms aloft so he can cover you up, then allow your arms to drop down, dead from their lack of blood, “that’s it, can you budge your hips for me?”

You try your absolute hardest to lift your bum from the fitted sheet, but you only have so much strength left, and it’s only half a second before you slump back down again, but in that time he had managed to wrench the fabric properly onto you. You let out another sob; Spencer had to do everything for you. When would he realise that it isn’t worth his time?

“There we go,” he smiles, but his eyes are rimmed with fire, so you simply can't remove the trembling frown ingrained on your face. Spencer looks up at you, and his own frown takes over, “do you wanna tell me about it?”

You take a sharp breath in, and Spencer backtracks quickly, “y-you don’t have to, why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll go on the couch tonight, if you want. Whatever you want, I-I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to,”

“Will you lay with me?” You slump down on his bed as you say it, paying no mind to the fact that you’re on his side of the bed. You’ve gone numb. No longer are you sobbing or choking on tears. Still, though, hot streams of liquid sadness stream down your cheeks as you rest your face on your boyfriend’s memory foam pillow.

Spencer shuffles across the room, swiping at his face to clear it of its fog as you kick at the duvet until you’re able to wriggle under. He joins you, and a dull throb of sadness aches in your heart when you realise he’s nervous to get into his own bed. He’s facing you, but not touching you, letting you keep as much distance as you want but not expressly requesting it.

“Are we going to sleep, or are we just going to calm down?” It’s a fair question, in all honesty; he’s been on a case the last few days so he’s had even less sleep than usual, he fears that if he allows himself to relax too much, he’ll fall asleep while you’re working up the courage to speak. He’s never had an issue with waiting for you to gather your words; he loves being a person you feel safe enough to really speak your mind to.

You don’t answer verbally yet again, just reach a hand back and open your palm towards Spencer as an invitation for him to hold it. He does, and waits patiently. Minutes pass, then maybe half an hour, all the while Spencer is smoothing his thumb across the back of your hand, never attempting to do anything more.

Another ten or so minutes pass before you turn in his direction and slip into his arms, silently, slowly. He allows you to settle in before wrapping his arms around you, loosely so as not to restrict you. Still, he doesn’t push you into talking.

“It wasn’t,” your throat is hoarse, and you have to clear it before continuing, “it wasn’t what you’re thinking. I wasn’t, like, raped,”

Just the word has Spencer gripping you tighter, but still he just lets you speak.

“I mean- I could’ve said no, and, and it was just my mouth, so it’s not that bad,” you reason, “like, he was my boyfriend, and he was nice to me, so it was kinda my job to do it. I just, I think maybe I didn’t like it when he was rough with me, maybe that’s why I freaked out. I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time,”

He waits for a moment, to be sure you’re finished talking before he responds, “oh, honey,”

It isn’t condescending, the way he speaks to you; it’s as if it physically hurts him to hear your perspective. His voice is thick with something a more talented profiler than you would call grief. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he continues, “I can go the rest of my life without ever needing you to do that for me,”

You eye him sceptically, but he continues without acknowledging it, “as far as I’m concerned, we never have to have sex. Not ever. Not if it makes you think of that, not if you think it’s something you should do,”

“But Spence-“

“No, no buts,” he asserts, followed by an apologetic, “sorry for interrupting, sweetheart, but I just don’t want to ever put you in that position again. That was scary,”

“I’m sorry Spence,” you can’t look at him directly in the eye, so you squeeze his bicep to let him know you’re being genuine, “I thought I would be okay, cos I was with you ‘n all, but then all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe and- and,”

You’re starting to get worked up again, so Spencer strokes between your shoulder blades, tracing along your spine as you recuperate.

“It’s not- I’m not afraid of you, Spencer, I don’t actually think you’d hurt me, I just couldn’t get that to stick in my stupid brain,” you bury your nose in his armpit, curling your arms around him and sighing as you finish speaking.

“Your brain isn’t being stupid,” he points out, in such a very Spencer way that you simply can’t stop yourself from smiling, “your brain is trying to protect you from suffering another traumatic event. Your brain just can’t tell the difference between someone you trust and someone you don’t, so it has the same base reaction and floods your system with adrenaline and cortisol, forcing you into a panic attack,”

You don’t really have the energy to respond to him any more, your panic attack combined with your boyfriend's soft-toned explanation has you yawning into his bare skin and moulding your body into his.

Spencer, noticing this, smiles to himself and presses a kiss to your head, “go to sleep, honey. We can talk more in the morning, if you want,”

You press your lips lazily to whatever patch of Spencer’s skin is closest to you and resign yourself to sleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the steady rhythm of your boyfriend's heart, and the never ending stroke of his three middle fingers between your shoulder blades.

Cm taglist - @mellozhi @aar-0n @spencereidapologist @halamet-chalamet @lubunnii

#•megs smutty daydreams•#•megs pretty daydreams•#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x y/n #tw sa

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 6 months ago

Text

nsfw.

a/n: literally this idea just came to me and i jumped at it like a feral animal. this is definitely an au that i would be willing to expand on!! :D

oh nothing, just sitting here thinking about jennifer's body!reader and spencer.

you've never had a problem with devouring boys before, but there's something special about spencer when you meet him.

he's shy and timid and a bit demure; sex is barely on his mind so when you manage to get him naked and under you, you can't bring yourself to kill him.

so instead he becomes your little energy source.

anytime that violent hunger twists in your gut, you pull him aside and just go ham.

spencer swears that he's never had so much sex in his life, and when he has, it's never been anything like this.

it's wild and untamable, it lasts for hours and when it's over it feels like you've stolen his soul out of his body. and maybe you have (just a little bit).

telling him you're a succubus is a whole other situation in itself. he's afraid, confused, in denial and a bit turned on?

he has no idea how to react because, let's face it, he knows everything, and not knowing this - you - were even scientifically possible threw him for a loop.

but honestly life doesn't change much after your confession, your sex life is still amazing and he's alive; plus he loves you.

love was a strange emotion, one that you hadn't been felt before.

but you like it, you like loving spencer.

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ellswritings · 1 month ago

Text

Undercover Heat

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

TW: Regular Criminal Minds violence, mentions of blood, death, and gore, suggestive content at the end (no smut), a bit of foul language, enemies to lovers, Hotch is kind of a meanie.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Sitting in the Los Angeles police station for the third day in a row has the entire team from the B.A.U stretched thin and exhausted. They’ve been dealing with a serial killer who targets couples with large age gaps in upscale, luxury clubs. He’s taken out three couples in the past three weeks. Tension was thick in the air, the exhaustion from long hours spent hunting a brutal unsub weighing on each of them.

Y/N runs a hand over her face in irritation as she leans on Morgan’s shoulder. They’ve been driving themselves crazy trying to figure out who this killer is. They’ve gone to multiple different clubs asking if anyone has seen a man between ages 35-50 who tends to sit at the bar people watching rather than engaging in the night’s festivities. But the regulars and employees said they hadn’t seen anything. Their unsub has been strangling his victims in the luxury clubs before dumping their bodies exactly two miles away in very particular positions. They’ve all been found in public spaces. But so far, they were missing something.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, flipping through the latest crime scene photos as Rossi and Morgan finished pinning the map with the last locations of the attacks. Y/N sat across from Reid, skimming through her notes as she analyzed the patterns. With an IQ of 179, a doctorate in criminology and psychology, two master’s degrees in chemistry and law, and a B.A. in history and human resources, her mind rarely rested. She could also fluently converse in four languages—French, Russian, German, and Spanish—which had come in handy countless times in the field. Despite her vast knowledge and sharp instincts, this case had left her unsettled. Something was off, and they hadn’t cracked it yet.

Rossi broke the silence. “We’ve been over this already. The unsub is hitting clubs that cater to the upper class, targeting couples with large age gaps. But there’s still a piece we’re missing. Why these clubs? Why these victims?”

Morgan crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. “This guy knows how to pick his victims, that’s for sure. But he’s not choosing randomly—there’s gotta be something more connecting these places.”

Y/N frowned, glancing between the case files and the map. “It’s not just about wealth. These clubs aren’t the most high-profile ones in the city, and they’re spread out across the area.”

Reid tapped his pen against the table. “It’s true. They’re not clustered in one neighborhood, and they don’t have a shared ownership group or any overt connections that we’ve found.”

Emily Prentiss nodded from her spot at the edge of the table, deep in thought. “What about the victims? They’re all couples with significant age differences. That’s part of his ritual, but it doesn’t explain why he’s picking these clubs.”

Y/N was staring at the list of clubs they’d canvassed earlier: Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. She narrowed her eyes, something beginning to click in her mind. “Hold on…”

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noticing her shift in focus.

Y/N sat up straighter, her voice thoughtful. “The clubs… they’re in alphabetical order. Look—Ascend, Bourbon Room, Cielo. He’s not just picking random spots. He’s following a sequence.”

Reid’s eyes lit up in realization. “You’re right. It’s subtle, but it makes sense. This kind of obsessive order suggests a particular form of OCD—a need to control every element of his actions. It’s not about the clubs themselves; it’s about the order they fall into.”

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck, impressed. “Damn. This guy’s not just a killer—he’s a full-on control freak.”

Hotch nodded, his expression serious. “If he’s following an alphabetical pattern, we can anticipate his next move. What’s the next club in line?”

Y/N flipped through the files, pulling out the next likely target. “‘DeVane.’ It’s upscale, fits the profile of where he’s been targeting couples. If he’s keeping to this pattern, that’s where he’ll strike next.”

JJ stepped forward, pointing at the map. “Alright. So we’ve got the next location. Now we just need to draw him out.”

Rossi’s eyes light up with an idea as he looked between Y/N and Hotch, “Well, we know the unsub’s got a thing for couples with big age gaps. Looks like we need a decoy.”

Before anyone could react, Morgan’s gaze landed squarely on Y/N, mischief dancing behind his eyes, “And we’ve got the perfect couple right here.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, hold on, what?”

Emily, catching onto Morgan and Rossi’s plan, chuckled. “He’s right, you know. You and Hotch fit the profile. It’d be perfect.”

Y/N stared, incredulous, before glancing toward Hotch. The man was stone-faced, as usual, but she could feel the tension rise between them. “You want me to pretend to be in a relationship with him?”

Morgan shrugged, his smile widening. “Well, you’re 23, Hotch is… not 23. The age gap fits perfectly.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, frustration building. “You’re seriously suggesting that Hotch and I—two people who can barely tolerate each other—pretend to be a couple?”

Hotch didn’t even look up from his files. “We’re professionals. We can set aside our differences for this.”

Y/N let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Set aside our differences? Hotch, we can’t even get through a team meeting without arguing over strategy. How do you expect us to pull off a believable relationship?”

Prentiss leaned in, smirking. “You two do argue like an old married couple already.”

Y/N threw her a sharp look. “That’s not funny.”

JJ chimed in, trying to defuse the tension. “Look, I know this is uncomfortable, but we need to catch this guy before he kills again. You two are the best option we have.”

Y/N shook her head, frustration bubbling over. “This isn’t just about being uncomfortable. We have to convince the unsub that we’re a legitimate couple—he’s going to notice every detail. And we’re not exactly… compatible.”

Hotch finally spoke up, his tone calm but firm. “We don’t have to like each other to do our jobs, L/N. We just have to be convincing enough to lure the unsub in.”

Y/N stared at him, arms crossed tightly. “Convincing? You and I can barely stand to be in the same room. How do you expect us to sell a romantic relationship?”

Morgan chuckled from the side. “Come on, L/N, you’re one of the smartest people I know. With that IQ and all those degrees, you can figure this out.”

Y/N shot him a glare. “I have a doctorate in criminology and psychology, a master’s in law and chemistry, and a B.A. in history and human resources. None of those degrees cover ‘pretending to like your boss who you can’t stand.’”

Rossi stepped in, his tone more diplomatic. “Look, we wouldn’t ask you to do this if we didn’t think you could handle it. This guy’s escalating, and we need to act fast. You and Hotch are the best team for this.”

Y/N sighed, clearly frustrated but recognizing the urgency. She looked over at Hotch, who met her gaze with that same impassive expression. “Fine,” she muttered. “But for the record, I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Hotch gave a curt nod. “Noted.”

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the skimpy red dress that Emily had insisted she wear for this undercover mission. The fabric clung to her figure, accentuating every curve. The slit on the side revealed a generous portion of her thigh, leaving just enough room to conceal her gun but not much else to the imagination. The sweetheart neckline plunged dangerously low, exposing far more cleavage than she was used to. She felt exposed, vulnerable—but Emily had been insistent.

“Trust me,” Emily had said with a wicked grin. “You’ll knock them dead.”

Y/N took a deep breath and adjusted the neckline again, trying to reconcile the professional part of her brain with the woman staring back at her in the mirror. She wasn’t usually the type to use her looks to her advantage, but tonight was different. Tonight, the mission came first.

She stepped out into the hallway where the rest of the team was waiting. The moment she appeared, Morgan’s eyes widened, and he let out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, Y/N, you trying to kill the unsub or us?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s not that bad.”

Morgan grinned, his gaze trailing over her in a playful, non-threatening way that only a close friend could get away with. “If this guy doesn’t fall for the bait, Lord knows I will,” he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth making Y/N slap his chest.

Emily stepped up beside Morgan, her eyes lighting up with approval. “See? I told you that dress would be perfect. You look like a total bombshell.”

Y/N glanced down at herself, smoothing the fabric over her hips. “Yeah, well, I feel like I’m about to flash someone.”

Emily shrugged, unfazed. “That’s kind of the point.”

Morgan shot her a wink. “You’re gonna break hearts tonight, sweetheart. Just make sure it’s the right one.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered toward Hotch, who had been silent since she entered the room. His gaze was locked on her, but he wasn’t saying anything. His eyes were dark, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at her that made her stomach tighten.

He quickly glanced away when she caught him staring, clearing his throat. “We need to focus on the mission.”

“Right.” Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in her chest. She wasn’t here to impress anyone—least of all Aaron Hotchner. He was too serious, too controlled. While Y/N on the other hand tends to handle the job by hiding behind a wall of humor and sarcasm, something Hotch hates. They’d never gotten along. This was strictly business.

Still, as they walked out to the car, she couldn’t help but feel Hotch’s presence looming next to her. He hadn’t said a word about the dress, but the way his eyes had lingered on her—particularly on her cleavage—hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was like he was trying not to look, but failing miserably.

By the time they arrived at the club, Y/N’s nerves had settled somewhat. The loud thrum of music pulsed through the walls as they approached the entrance, and she straightened her spine, trying to adopt the confident persona they needed for the night.

“Okay,” she murmured as they stepped through the door. “We need to sell this. So maybe try not looking like a statue,” she grumbles lowly.

Hotch, staying ever stoic, gave a curt nod. “I know.”

But Y/N wasn’t convinced. Hotch’s body language screamed discomfort. His shoulders were rigid, his movements stiff, and he had the expression of someone being dragged to an event they wanted no part of.

She leaned in closer to him, keeping her voice low. “Hotch, you’re going to blow this if you don’t relax. We’re supposed to be a couple.”

“I’m relaxed,” Hotch said, though the tension in his jaw told a different story.

Y/N huffed in frustration. “You look like you’re about to interrogate someone, not go dancing with your girlfriend.”

Hotch shot her a look. “I’m here to catch the unsub, not dance.”

“You’re here to catch the unsub by pretending to be my boyfriend,” Y/N whispered fiercely. “Right now, you’re not doing a very good job of that.”

Hotch’s expression remained impassive, but Y/N could sense the faintest hint of annoyance in his eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Start by putting your arm around me,” she said through gritted teeth. “Couples don’t walk into clubs two feet apart.”

Hotch hesitated, then slipped his arm around her waist. It was awkward at first, his hand hovering as if he wasn’t sure where to put it. But Y/N pressed into him slightly, encouraging him to pull her closer. After a moment, his grip tightened, and they moved deeper into the crowded club.

They found their way to the dance floor, where couples swayed and ground against each other in the dim, pulsating lights. Y/N turned to Hotch, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of their target. They had to blend in.

“Follow my lead,” she said softly.

Hotch nodded, though the tightness in his posture remained.

Y/N began to move to the music, her body swaying in time with the beat. Hotch tried to follow her movements, but he was stiff, almost robotic. She bit back a sigh and leaned into him, pressing her body against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“We’ve got eyes on us,” she whispered in his ear, her lips brushing against the skin just below. “Black hoodie, sitting alone at the bar. You need to make this believable. Stop acting like I have some incurable disease.”

Hotch’s hands found her hips, his grip firm but hesitant. Y/N could feel the tension radiating off him, but she kept moving, her body fluid and sensual as she ground against him. Their bodies remain close, she spins around pressing her ass against crotch, and for a moment, she felt his breath hitch.

“You’re too stiff,” she murmured, leaning her head back, her lips grazing the shell of his ear. “Relax.”

Hotch’s hands tightened on her hips as he tried to match her rhythm. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to ease, and he pulled her closer, his breath now becoming warm against her neck.

“That’s better,” Y/N whispered, her voice low and teasing.

Hotch’s hands moved more confidently now, gripping her hips with a possessive strength that sent a shiver down her spine. Y/N’s heart raced as she tilted her head slightly, brushing her lips against the skin of his neck. She trails kisses up and down his skin, nibbling at the soft spot that connects his shoulder to his neck. She turns back around, running her hands through his raven black hair, tugging on the strands which ends up pulling a small groan from Hotch’s lips. The music and atmosphere of the club seems to have pulled them in much deeper than they thought. It’s getting harder to breathe the closer they stay.

“We’ve got his attention,” she murmured, her lips ghosting along the curve of his jaw. She fights off every urge to leave a mark. “He hasn’t looked away for the past five minutes.”

Without warning, Y/N moves her attention from his neck and kisses him, her lips pressing against his in a way that was both soft and urgent. Hotch froze for a split second, but then his hands gripped her waist, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss. He’ll probably scold her for the unprofessional action later, but they need to keep this guys attention if this is going to work.

It was electric, the tension between them igniting in a way neither of them had anticipated. Hotch’s hand moves upward, gripping the back of her head. If her eyes were open, they’d be rolling into the back of her head with the way he’s dominating her. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she kissed him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, it didn’t feel like an act.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their eyes locked. Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something Y/N couldn’t quite place.

“He’s hooked,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless. “We need to get him somewhere more secluded. Before he hurts someone else.”

Hotch nodded, his grip on her waist still tight as they made their way toward the exit. Once outside, the cool night air hit them, and Y/N quickly scanned the area, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the moment. She can’t see if the unsub followed them. The only light illuminating the area around them being the moon.

“We need to keep making this look real,” Y/N murmured as they moved toward a shadowed alley. “Just in case he’s still watching.”

Without warning, Hotch spun her around and pinned her against the wall, his body pressing into hers. One of his hands is still tight on her hip, the other one shooting up to her neck, squeezing it slightly to hold her in place. Y/N’s breath catches in her throat as Hotch’s eyes visibly darken.

“Is this believable enough for you?” Hotch whispers, his voice low and rough in her ear.

Y/N swallowed hard, enjoying the tiny amount of pressure on her throat. “Yeah… that’ll do.”

They stood like that for a few moments, their bodies pressed together in the darkness. Hotch plants open mouthed kisses from her cheek all the way down to her neck and across her chest, the neckline allowing him much needed access. Y/N sucks in a shaky breath, still waiting for any sign of the unsub. She could feel the tension between them, the heat radiating off Hotch’s body as he held her against the wall.

Suddenly, movement caught her eye. The unsub stepped out of the shadows, his gaze locked on them. Y/N’s instincts kicked in immediately. She shoved Hotch to the side, spinning around to face the unsub as he lunged at her.

In one swift motion, Y/N ducked under his arm, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. The unsub let out a grunt of pain as she swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Hotch was by her side in an instant, helping to restrain the unsub as they waited for backup to arrive.

When it was all over, Y/N stood there, breathing heavily, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline. She glanced over at Hotch, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

Y/N nodded, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Hotch’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he looked away, his expression unreadable once again. “Good work.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, despite the tension still thrumming between them. “Thanks. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

As they waited for the team to arrive, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them. The mission might have been over, but the tension between her and Hotch was far from resolved.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Y/N barely made it through the door of her hotel room before she kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. Her feet ached from the hours spent in the club, and all she wanted was to peel off the red dress that clung to her like a second skin, take a long shower, and crash for the night. The team had successfully apprehended the unsub, and they’d earned a few hours of sleep before their early flight back to Quantico.

As she reached for the zipper at the back of her dress, a commanding knock on her door stopped her mid-motion. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was late, far past the time she expected anyone on the team to come knocking. Confusion settled in her chest as she moved toward the door, wondering if someone had an emergency or a last-minute update about the case.

When she opened the door, the sight that greeted her sent her heart racing.

Hotch stood there, but not like the composed, stoic team leader she was used to seeing. His tie was loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his usually slicked-back hair had a slightly tousled look, as if he’d been running his hands through it. But it wasn’t just his disheveled appearance that threw her off—it was the way his dark eyes flickered with something raw, something he was barely holding back.

He looked… frazzled, but not in a scared or anxious way. No, this was different. It was the kind of frazzled that spoke of barely-contained desire, the kind that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff.

Her heart skipped a beat as his eyes swept over her, lingering on the red dress she was still wearing. His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening for a split second before he quickly looked back up at her face. But not quickly enough.

“Hotch?” she asked, her voice uncertain, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you doing here? It’s late—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Hotch stepped forward, forcing her to take a step back. He shut the door behind him with a firm push, the click of the lock sending a shiver down her spine. His entire presence was overwhelming, the space between them growing smaller with each passing second.

“Why are you still in that dress?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his gaze once again dipping to the neckline of her dress. It wasn’t a question borne out of curiosity; it was an accusation, a demand.

Y/N blinked, completely thrown off by the intensity in his eyes, the tension radiating off him in waves. “I—I just got back. I didn’t have time to—”

But before she could explain further, Hotch took another step forward, backing her up against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of her head, caging her in. The heat of his body was intoxicating, the scent of his cologne filling her senses.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice a low growl, “what the hell were you thinking?”

Y/N’s heart was racing now, her breath hitching as she stared up at him. His face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin. “What are you talking about?”

“The kiss,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “The way you touched me. What were you trying to do?”

Y/N’s lips parted in shock, her mind spinning. This wasn’t an interrogation—not really. This was something else, something charged with an energy she couldn’t ignore.

“I was trying to sell the cover,” she replied, her voice faltering slightly, though she stood her ground. “We had to be convincing.”

Hotch’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Convincing? You were doing a hell of a lot more than that.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as his words hung between them, thick with implication. The way he was looking at her, the way his body pressed so close to hers, sent heat pooling in her stomach. She could feel the tension crackling between them, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, her voice quieter now, her heart pounding in her chest.

Hotch’s gaze bore into hers, his voice dangerously soft. “You know exactly what I’m saying.”

Y/N clenched her fists at her sides, trying to regain control of the situation, of herself. But the way Hotch was staring at her, the way his body was crowding her against the wall, made it nearly impossible to think straight.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You didn’t do anything wrong?” Hotch’s voice was thick with disbelief, and he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering near her ear. “You kissed your superior, L/N. You pushed yourself against me like a dirty whore. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

Y/N felt her pulse quicken, her skin tingling where his breath brushed against her ear. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. The heat between them was suffocating, and her body reacted in ways she couldn’t control.

“You kissed me back,” she shot back, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, even as her voice wavered.

Hotch’s hand slid down the wall, his fingers brushing against her arm, sending a shockwave of electricity through her. His lips were so close to her neck now, she could feel the warmth of them, but he didn’t touch her—at least, not yet.

“You want to talk about what I did?” His voice was a husky whisper. “Or do you want to talk about why you did it in the first place?”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing. “What are you trying to get at, Hotch?”

“I’m trying to figure out what was going through your mind,” he said, his eyes dark with intensity. “You could’ve made it believable without kissing me like that. But you didn’t.”

Y/N’s skin flushed, and she fought to stay composed. “I did what I had to do to keep the cover intact. That’s it.”

Hotch’s lips twisted into a smirk that sent a ripple of heat through her. “Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

Her pulse was in her throat now, and she couldn’t ignore the way her body responded to his nearness, the way her mind spun every time his breath ghosted over her skin.

“You’re trying to act like you don’t care,” Hotch murmured, his voice low, predatory. “But you can’t stand it, can you? You’re as affected by this as I am.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, and she pressed her palms flat against the wall behind her, trying to ground herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You may be able to lie to yourself,” Hotch said softly, his hand brushing over her side, sending a shockwave of heat through her. “But you can’t lie to me.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her breathing uneven as the tension between them became unbearable. Every inch of her body was attuned to his, and the more they fought, the stronger the pull between them became.

“Maybe it’s you who can’t handle it,” Y/N shot back, her voice shaky, but defiant. “Maybe you’re the only one who’s affected.”

Hotch’s eyes darkened even further, and without warning, his lips crashed against hers, all of the tension, all of the pent-up frustration between them exploding in that moment.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her body melting into his as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. A certain wetness pools between her legs as his thigh spreads her legs apart. She grounds herself against him as the kiss builds. It’s fierce, heated, and Y/N can’t stop herself, her hands tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

It was overwhelming—the way his body pressed into hers, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding more. She could feel the heat between them building, igniting something deep within her that she couldn’t suppress.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The mission, the team, the rules—they all disappeared, leaving only the fire that burned between them.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to regain control.

“This is a bad idea,” Y/N whispered, her voice breathless.

Hotch’s hand slid up her arm, his fingers brushing against her neck. “I know.”

But neither of them made a move to stop.

#aaron hotchner #smutty concepts #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #boss x employee #tw violence #criminal minds imagine

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fandom-puff · 10 months ago

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Accidentally calling Spencer Daddy/ him accidentally calling you a dirty pet name in front of the team 😩😍❤️

Oh my god his cheeks would go so RED!!!

He’d slip up, calling you ‘princess’ or ‘baby’ or just saying something like ‘good girl’ when he’s hyper focused on something, and the team is just STUNNED as the two of you secretly kinky idiots blush and bumble over your words in a pathetic attempt to cover it up 😭😭

Like you think they’d be used to it, they hear much more nsfw from Morgan and Garcia lol

Send me smutty thoughts about fictional men x

#Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid thoughts #smutty thoughts about fictional men #criminal minds thoughts

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luvs4matt · 1 month ago

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KINKTOBER !! DAY THREE , corruption

season1!spencer reid x dom!reader

you traced your manicured fingernails across spencers cheeks and jaw, giving him the smallest touch as you straddled his lap. he whines from your small words and sudden movements of your hips that send waves of pleasure through his body; embarrassed as he becomes consumed with the bits of pleasure.

“my smart.. innocent.. baby..” you whispered, placing a few kisses down his jaw “please” he begs “need something—need anything” you smiled sweetly at the boy, making him think you would finally fuck him. “not today baby..” he whined, desperate to be deep inside of you, being squeezed by your gummy walls.

“but-“ he trys to find something to say but he can’t, he knows that there is no way to convince you. you grind your hips into his, making him whimper “felt good?” he hums an “mhm”, he sounded so sweet when he agreed with you, but when does he not.

“want me to ride your virgin dick so badly, hm?” your soft voice made him feel so loved yet still so embarrassed. “y- yes.. so bad” you wanted it too, but it is so fun working him up. you started to lift up his shirt, kissing down his tummy. he whimpered, your lips getting closer and closer to his clothed cock, your knees hitting the floor.

“y- you said-“ you cut him off “i know what i said sweetheart.. just enjoy it, yeah?” your innocent boy was not going to be so innocent anymore.

a/n - don’t mind the rushed ending… and this isn’t even like ACTUAL corruption. like wtf.

taggies 🏷️ @downbad4reid @conspiracy-ash

#luvs4matt #smut #smutty smut smut #tumblr fyp #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer #agent reid #doctor reid #emily criminal minds #criminal minds #bau team #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #dom male character #sub male character

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ozwriterchick · 5 months ago

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Just once, when they’re in the throes of smut, and the guy asks “Is this all for me?” I wish the reader would be a smart ass and say “No it’s for the guy behind the door/curtains/couch or whatever”

I’d read the shit out of that. No hate or whatever to writers who write that I’m just not sure why a guy would ask that. I mean, do you see anyone else here? Oh it’s for my imaginary lover in my head.

Sorry.

That is all.

Go about your business

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bubbleebubz · 4 months ago

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spencer x flirty!reader who whispers suggestive/downright dirty things in his ears to get him all flustered/red. she thinks shes gonna rock his world in bed and it ends super spicy but maybe spencer is a switch?? hope this is ok and makes sense.

Choke

WARNING SMUTT READER GIVES SPENCE HEAD, SWITCH READER AND SWITCH SPENCE!!

Spencer was at his desk minding his own business when Y/N walked up to him, sitting down on his desk next to him.

"Hey Spence," she chirps as always. He looked up at her, smiling back, no matter how tired he was, her smile was so contagious.

"Hotch says we have another case, in a discluded town in Texas. 2 women were murdered in 3 days, both of them strangled by a red handkerchief," He says, shyly looking away from her pretty bright eyes.

She smirks to herself.

"Hmm, when do we-" she begins but is cut off by Hotch exiting his office.

"Team, you all know we have a case, Garcia will tell us more on the jet. Wheels up in 30." He says before leaving to do more work before we go.

She hops off his desk and grabs her go bag from her car before going to the jet.

Garcia fills them in on the case, and they doze off on the "long and agonizing" (as Y/N would say) ride.

Y/N POV

We get to our destination just to find out there is only 1 motel, and we will have to share rooms, me and spencer are last off the jet, meaning last to choose a roommate.

"I guess you're stuck with me pretty boy," I say, throwing my arm over his shoulder while walking making him blush and smile shyly.

We get to the room that thankfully has 2 beds.

"I'm gonna shower first if that is ok," I say before grabbing my pajamas from my bag and heading to the bathroom after he nods a yes.

I get into the shower, thinking about how the night may go. I don't know how to make it anymore obvious I like Spencer, he really is clueless when it comes to people having feelings for him. But tonight, I'm gonna rock his world.

I get out of the shower, putting on my pajamas, which was just a simple black band tee, it was long enough to be used as a night gown so I didn't pack bottoms, not knowing I'd be sharing a room with anyone, let alone Spencer.

I walk out of the bathroom, to see Spencer sitting at the small table in the corner, looking over the files, his fingers dragging down the page, making my thighs clench together. "your turn, Spence" I say, whispering in his ear, making him jump and I giggle. "S-sorry I didn't hear you come out, I was looking over the case again" he stutters out shyly, his gaze shying down my body. "Eyes up here, handsome" I say snapping my fingers at him. He flushes a deep red, making me giggle. "you know, your really cute when you blush, especially when I do this" I say, hugging him, my arms around his neck, his hands around my waist, causing him to tense, a small gasp leaving his lips. "You make such pretty noises, I wonder what you'd sound like with my pussy around your cock." I whisper in his ears.

What I don't expect is for him to push me against the wall, burying his face in my neck.

"Fuck Y/N, you drive me crazy" he groans out, leaving wet kisses on my neck. "I really want to feel your pussy around my dick, but your lips will do for now" he says softly in my ear.

I look up at him stunned, as he gently places a hand to the top of my head, pushing down lightly, signaling for me to get onto my knees.

I get onto my knees in front of him, looking up at him with doe eyes as he removes his belt with one hand. "Fuck" he groans out, looking down at me. "Your so precious" he mumbles out, pulling his cock from his pants. I gasp lightly at the size. If you had told me Spencer Reid was packing, I'd believe you, but this, this was unexpected, he wasn't huge in the sense of girth, but he was long, curving upward, with a pretty pink tip and veins along his shaft, with neatly trimmed hair at his pubic bone. " So pretty" I mumble out in awe, causing him to blush. "hmm, you think so?" He asks, and I nod before taking him into my hand, stroking him slowly, causing his to jut his hips at the sensation. "sorry" he mumbles out. I take his tip in my mouth, licking the precum that leaked from his slit, moaning at the taste of him before lowering my head down, taking his length in my mouth as far as I could go without gagging, using my hand to stroke what couldn't fit, and the other to the play with his balls. He whimpered out at the sensation. His hips slowly beginning to rock back and forth.

"is this ok" he asked with a fucked out expression on his face. "mhmm" I moan around his length causing his cock to twitch in my mouth, making him let out a yelp. I pull off abruptly, standing up. "Lay on the bed, my knees are sore." I say, and he obeys. "Good boy" I say smugly, he rolls his eyes but I see his cock jump at the praise.

He lays on his back and i lay horizontally across him, taking his throbbing cock back into my mouth, focusing on his tip and balls, moaning around his length as his one hand holds my hair up and the other travels down my back and down to my ass cheeks, fondling the barely covered skin, dipping his fingers down to brush over my pantie cladded pussy, he groans at the wet patch he can feel.

"where do you want it?" He asked, his voice slightly higher than normal. "Cum in my mouth" I say before taking his cock down my throat as far as i can, bobbing my head up and down till I feel his hot seed in the back of my throat, swallowing it all down.

"Your turn" he says slipping us over so he is on top

TO BE CONTINUED MUAHAHAHAH

#spencer reid x reader smut #soft dom!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid fluff #sub!spencer reid #sub spencer reid #smutty smut smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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