#ticklish!reid

[hotwritergf]

The best medicine🫂

"You need to relax kid. There's only so much stress a person can take before they explode, like pop."

Derek explained, his voice soft but his words playful. He'd always known Reid was a perfectionist but there was absolutely nothing he could add to the case files that would complete them anymore than he'd already done. Spencer always found the cases with children the most emotionally demanding, especially when it was all out of their control. Even a genius with an eidetic memory couldn't fix what had been done in this particular case.

"Actually experiencing a moderate amount of stress is normal and can even be beneficial, as it can help motivate and focus attention. Anyway, I'm fine. It's nothing I can't handle. Now stop distracting me and let me get back to my paperwork."

Spencer rolls his eyes, his mind engulfed in the case. He sips his 4th cup of coffee from that day, making a face when he tastes the bitter liquid, remembering he'd used the last of the sugar several hours prior. Reid sticks his head back into the case files, scanning over each words at an alarming rate. All of his focus is transfixed on the information in front of him, so much so that he doesn't sense Morgan sneaking up behind him. Gripping him into a bear hug from behind, trapping him against the back of his chair.

He sneaks his fingers, poising them strategically on Spence's sides, steadying them firm against his shirt-clad skin.

"What- Morgan! What on earth are you doing?"

Spencer splutters out, his voice breathy and full of confusion. He struggles against Derek's arms uselessly; whilst he's a genius, there's no way to overpower him with intellect when Morgan has him pinned.

"I told you. You need to relax, pretty boy. But don't you worry, I'm here to help you."

Morgan's smirk is audible, spinning Spencer's chair to face him, he chuckles as he looks Spencer up and down. Reid's face is flushed, a sweet blush that perfectly compliments his cheeks. Looking like a lost lamb, he glances at Derek as his heart starts to beat faster from the cheeky look in his eye.

"Ah, yes because the pinnacle of relaxation is being stuck to my chair. Of course, my foolishness."

Spencer snaps back, matching Morgan's playfulness.

"Just wait Dr Reid, you're gonna be so relaxed that you're not gonna know what's hit you. Now I'm gonna touch you, is that okay?"

Reid nods shyly, unsure of how the situation is going to play out.

"You're safe with me, remember that. Now, I'm gonna need you to laugh for me."

Morgan teases, Reid's demeanor still confused and slightly fearful but when he lets out the breath he's been holding this entire time Derek knows he's okay.

"Laugh for you? What do you-"

Spencer shrieks under his fingers, they poke and prod in the spaces between his ribs. Scratching at all the clothed skin he could reach, smiling down at the snickering genius.

"No! Stop!-"

He begs, throwing his head back and allowing himself to laugh openly. Mentally begging that Morgan doesn't find his sweet spot, he could handle being tickled on his ribs for a while, but his under arms? That's a different story.

Derek traces his fingers over the thin shirt, traveling down to his sides and scribbling his nails over his belly.

"Aww, look at you! Pretty boy can't think when he's getting tickled huh?"

He teases with a singsong tone to his voice, holding Reid in place as much as he can as he writhes in his grip.

"Morgan! Stop!"

Reid begs, letting out a snort of laughter. Derek coos, filling the air with aww's. Spencer pulls at his arms, desperately trying to clamp them to his sides to protect himself from the ticklish onslaught.

He swallows hard and makes a strangled noise, almost like it was stuck in his throat. Derek's fingers squeeze up his sides, reaching his armpits.

"No! Anywhere but there!"

Spencer squeaks a high-pitched noise, trying to swivel the chair around to knock Morgan's balance. His co-worker winks, a shit eating grin rising his lips up into a smile, his dimples deepen and becoming more prominent.

"Oh bad spot huh? Don't worry, it's not gonna hurt, it'll just tickle."

Morgan lets out a laugh of his own as he swirls one finger in each underarm. Practically sitting on Reid's lap, restraining him more as he leans over him. Spencer bucks his hips frantically, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Refusing to look Derek in the eye as he bellows out his demands for him to stop. His demands are only met with a smirk and fingers digging under his arms, searching for the most sensitive spots. When he notices Spence wheeze, gasping for air, his fingers still and remove from his underarms. Derek's hands find Reid's hair, petting it softly, running them through the strands soothingly.

"Breathe kid. It's okay, I got you."

Morgan whispers into his ear as Spencer lets residual giggles spill from his lips.

"You- you are so mean."

Spencer pants, eventually catching his breath and chuckling at his own comment.

"Maybe a little, but you don't seem as stressed now. I'm right aren't I?"

"Well there is such thing as tickle therapy, Tickling therapy releases endorphins into the body, known as the happy hormone, this has an undoubted effect on relieving stress and improving health. But the ancient Romans actually used tickling as a method of torture."

Reid rambles, grateful to be able to speak without being cut off by his own laughter. Morgan smiles down at him once more, happily looking at his best friend. His hair is messy and he's a little sweaty, but his smile is beaming from ear to ear.

"Is that so Dr? You know I'm here to give you 'therapy' whenever you need it pretty boy."

Derek ruffles Reid's hair playfully, rough-housing with him once more. Spence would never admit it, but despite his aversion of touch over his phobia of germs, he loved these moments with his brother.

[barnesrogers-blog]

This is everything.

I was the one who asked for the criminal minds hc but the one person I was interested in hearing a hc for was Spencer Reid. I totally understand if it would be difficult to do because you’re not into the fandom anymore.

Oh I can totally do some hc's for Dr. Ticklish Beyond Reason Spencer Reid.

Spencer is obviously canonically ticklish on his torso (PRENTISS POKED HIM AND HE REACTED LIKE THE DORK HE IS, HE'S TICKLISH, DAMNIT). He's suuuuuuper ticklish on his ribs and hips. He's a super genius, and he always attempts to think his way out of being ticklish, but his brain short circuits every time he's tickled. He was rarely tickled as a child. He was extremely bullied in school, he roomed alone during college, and he never gave tickling a second thought when he entered adulthood.

Until he met Derek Morgan.

It was their second case, and it had gone pretty great, so the team was very happy and relaxed on the plane ride back to Virginia. JJ, Derek, and Emily were playfully poking and prodding one another. Emily and Derek ganged up on JJ, causing Spencer to blush furiously as he watched his new teammates tickle each other. Derek noticed, asked why he was blushing, to which Spencer just spluttered facts about torture. Not even being able to say the word tickling, though. Derek smirked, asking Spencer if he was ticklish. At Spencer's crazy red face, Derek then proceeded to use every variation of the word 'tickle.' Gideon then helpfully added that Spencer was indeed very ticklish, especially on his ribs. Spencer turned wide and betrayed eyes on Gideon, but could do nothing more as Derek decided to test that declaration.

Gideon had been spot on. Spencer was tickled nonstop for the rest of the flight. Hotch hadn't intervened at all, despite Spencer's pleads. Hotch had actually stated that this was a type of hazing he'd allow.

Spencer isn't a ler, but he playfully goose his teammates sides when he knows he can get away with it. Being the youngest on the team, and seriously just freaking adorable, Spencer is prone to being on the receiving end of many tickle attacks. Derek and Penelope being his two biggest attackers.

He'll never admit it (unless he's forced to), but Spencer actually loves being tickled. He's always so carefully put together, and he's used to having to fight for everything in his life. It's nice to lose control every so often.

[fanficsandfluff]

THE VERY END OF CRIMINAL MINDS SEASON 9 EPISODE 18 THAT IS ALL

[auroralwriting]

wait for your love

spencer reid x fem!liaison!reader

after joining the bau eight months ago, you and spencer quickly became close. too close, to be just friends, that is.

word count: 2k

warnings: comfort and fluff, no use of y/n, mutual pining, (un)reciprocated feelings, spencer's love-blind, he only likes your touch, vague hints at spencer's autism, playful flirting

Spencer Reid was all you'd ever wanted. He was a sweet, smart, charming, a gentleman. He understood your thoughts and feelings. He made time for you, and actually, the two of you spent a great deal of time together on a daily basis. It was rare you'd go more than two days without seeing the resident genius.

You were even the rare exception to his physical touch boundaries-- he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Holding your hand or interlocking your pinkies was a common form of touch you shared. Hugs, cuddling, and sharing beds wasn't uncommon, either. Usually on cases, you roomed together, even if you had separate rooms. You were Spencer Reid's solace, even more so-- simply his person.

The only issue? He was just your best friend.

For as close as the two of you were, no, you weren't dating. No, you had no clue how he felt about you. Sometimes it felt like he reciprocated your feelings, but then he'd go and call you something like his best friend. So, maybe he didn't reciprocate the feelings. But that was fine, you were still in his life and he was in yours. That was all that mattered, right?

You barreled into Spencer's hotel room the moment he opened the door from your rapid knocks.

Spencer watched as you flopped face-first on his bed with a chuckle, "Hello to you, too." He walked over to where you laid, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Can you guys please profile this douche any quicker?" You groaned into his pillow, the whine of your voice making Spencer smile. "I'm seriously done with the press on this one. I cannot take another call from stupid Heather Young."

"Who's Heather Young?" Spencer asked as you flipped yourself over quickly, sitting up to face him.

Begrudgingly, you pointed to the small TV that sat in front of his bed. "She's some nosey, obsessive, and pestering news reporter who wants the full coverage story on this case." You sighed. Heather Young truly was testing every limit you had. Her phone calls boarded on stalker, at least one an hour, if not more. You'd tried to block her number, but she found another phone to use. "She won't leave me alone. I swear, Spence, every hour this woman calls!"

Spencer knew all too well the struggles of being a liaison, and this was one of them. Dealing with obnoxious reporters and pestering questions would frustrate him to no end. That's why he admired you so much, for your tolerance and patience.

Your phone rang, and you groaned, turning back over and letting yourself fall face-first back into Spencer’s pillow. He chuckled, grabbing your phone and shutting it off so you wouldn’t receive any more calls for the night. “See? Problem solved,”

“Until six a.m when she calls me trying to get an inside scoop,” your muffled voice whined.

“You’re so grumpy,” Spencer chuckled, leaning on his arm beside you. “Come on, don’t let some stupid news reporter get you like this.”

Maybe if you'd looked closer, harder, you would've noticed the adoration in the genius's eyes. However, you just rolled your eyes and scoffed at his words. "M not grumpy,"

Spencer chuckled, poking your side teasingly. "You definitely are," He chuckled at the way you squeaked, shooting upward at the ticklish sensation.

"Spence!"

"If I were to look up the definition for grumpy, your name would be its definition." Spencer continued to softly poke at your ribs and sides, causing giggles to spew from your lips like an endless waterfall. It was music to Spencer's ears.

"Spencer!" You tried to whine, but it came out as laughter instead.

After a minute or so of his relentless attack, Spencer eased. "See? Not so grumpy anymore. I just know the grumpy cure."

"Tickling me is not a cure," You argued, crossing your arms as you sat criss-crossed in front of him. When Spencer went to reach forward, you sucked in a breath, "Okay, okay! Consider me cured!"

Spencer just chuckled at your words. "Admit it, you were grumpy. I could tell based on the way you threw yourself onto my bed." Spencer joked. He wasn't wrong. His hand, instead of poking, found its way to your side, but it gently caressed you in a sweet motion.

With another roll of your eyes, you smiled, letting Spencer know wordlessly he was right. His touch was soft and comforting. Spencer's touch, no matter how it's given, was the cure.

The moment was broken when your phone buzzed, a text from JJ lighting up your screen. For a moment, ignoring it was a highly considerable option, until you realized you were still on a case, and it could be important.

"Who's that?" Spencer asked, looking over your shoulder as you grabbed your phone from his bedside table.

"JJ," You simply stated.

Where are you? The text read.

With Spence, need anything?

Why can't you ever stay in your own rooms, SMH!! Wanted to see if you're ready to give the profile tomorrow?

You chuckled at her text, As ready as I'll ever be

KK, I won't bother you two lovebirds anymore! Enjoy Spencer time!!!

Spencer grinned at the texts. "You don't think she's going to read into that, do you?"

"She already does," You shrugged, setting your phone back down. "The whole team always asks, 'When are you and Spencer getting together?,' 'When are you finally gonna date?,' blah, blah, blah."

With an eyebrow now raised, Spencer felt himself become surprised at your response. While he speculated there was some sort of, well, suspicion about the two of you, he was never on the receiving end of any of it. Apparently, that's because you were. "How many people have asked about us? Just the team?"

"Just them," You paused, considering his question. "Wait, you don't know about this?"

Spencer became more confused at your tone, "No, I don't."

"They think we're madly in love or something," you chuckled, trying to hide your true feelings, "talking about our future little genius-liaison babies."

The genius's mind became scattered, flooded with images of the two of you that his mind created in a moments notice. Children, marriage, love. It felt so surreal picturing you, yet so right. "Did you ever deny it?"

"For the first few months," You confirmed with a solid nod. "I just don't really entertain it anymore. I don't see them stopping anytime soon."

Spencer nodded, clearing his throat. "You haven't let them think it's true though, right?"

"Why?" You asked, his words confusing you. "Is there some sort of problem being with me?"

You felt defensive at his words. Maybe this was his way of telling you the feelings aren't reciprocated. Maybe, all along, you were playing the fool. This stupid, silly little mistake of a crush was mere moments from destroying your closest friendship. You wished you could swallow this whole conversation down like bad medicine and pretend it never happened.

Spencer paused for a moment, your question making his heart drop. "Why would you ask me that?" He softly asked.

"Just--" You sighed, turning over to lay on your side that faced away from him. As much as this sucked, you couldn't see yourself leaving him, either. "forget about it, Spence."

You were upset now, that much was apparent. Spencer couldn't tell if it was about the team, or his response. He wasn't good at talking to girls, let alone about romance. Spencer softly laid on his side, wrapping his arm around your middle and trying to gently pull you into him.

"Spence, it's really fine, just--" You knew this play. You knew he was going to give you the softest affection to try and get you to open up.

"It's not fine, you're upset." Spencer observed, a gentle firmness behind his voice. He hated it when you closed in on yourself.

Adamant about not moving, Spencer realized his efforts were useless; you weren't going to budge. So, he scooted closer until front was pressed against your back, practically spooning you. When your body went rigid against his, Spencer felt disappointment seep into his heart. You always melted into him. Ever so softly, Spencer let his free hand come up and begin to massage your scalp, slowly playing with your hair ever so often.

Like memory, your body began to relax into his, just the way he wanted it to. Of course, it was against your better judgement, but soft moments with Spencer Reid was what you lived for.

Spencer smiled against your shoulder, his efforts weren't so fruitless after all. "You're so stubborn," Spencer mumbled into your shoulder.

"M not stubborn," you muttered in reply, heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

"Yes, you are." Spencer said, giving you a small squeeze. It made you giggle in reply, making Spencer's heart thump loudly in his chest. Could you hear it, too? "You never answered me before,"

You hummed, "Hmm?"

Spencer said your name slowly, a growl of a warning. He needed to fix whatever happened. There was no way he was going to let you stay upset at him.

"I asked you that because.." you hesitated. "I don't know. would there be a problem being with me?"

At your soft words, Spencer realized what had happened. He'd been a fool and insulted you. How could he ever do such a thing? "Of course there wouldn't be a problem being with you," he breathed softly into your ear.

"Then.." you paused, "then why aren't we, I don't know, together?" You rolled over to face him. "I mean, we do this," Your hands waved in the air, motioning to your current position with the genius. "We're always together. We even sleep over! Even the team asks me why we aren't together and--"

Spencer felt shock flood his system at your confession. Did this mean what he thought it meant? Was he reading this right?

"Just, why? Is it me?"

Taking a deep breath, Spencer choked down his fears. "I've been.. scared."

"Scared?" Your desperation morphed into one of curiosity and confusion at his words.

"Scared," Spencer confirmed softly. "I didn't know how you felt. I didn't know if you even wanted this.. us,"

Humor slowly filled the situation. Maybe you'd both been fools, but not in the way you'd originally thought. "Do you really think I cuddle with all my best friends?"

Spencer raised a brow at your words. Yeah, he felt unbelievably stupid. How could he not have seen it before? "No, I suppose not." He meekly replied, a small smile growing on his lips. "Does that mean you-you really want to be my girlfriend?"

A chuckle escaped your lips, "Spencer Reid, you ought to know better than to assume. Don't you know what that makes you?"

He smiled in return, rephrasing his question. "You want to be my girlfriend."

"I do," you smiled.

"I want to be your boyfriend," Spencer replied with a now wide grin on his face.

You felt your heart skip a beat, "I want that, too."

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Spencer asked, the question feeling like one of a middle-school boy. Nothing else felt right to say, though. Nothing felt as sweet and innocent as this moment did.

A finger patted your chin as you faked deep thought. "I don't know, it's a lot to consider."

Spencer let out a small laugh, propping himself up. He moved over top of you, his weight now on his forearms as you stared up at him. "Oh, really now?"

"Yeah, being tied down is a lot, you know?"

He leaned down closer to you, so close you could feel the tip of his nose grazing your own. "Tied down," he chuckled with amusement.

"That begs your question; should I be your girlfriend?"

"I say yes," Spencer said, his lips mere centimeters from your own.

Staring down at his lips, you whisper, "I say yes, too."

Like a moment of explosion, your lips meshed perfectly with Spencer's. It felt like everything you'd dreamt of thus far. Poor Spencer, he was in absolute bliss. He felt like he'd been waiting this day his whole life and another. It was magic, heaven, and unbridled passion.

"Stay here tonight?" Spencer whispered as he pulled back, lips tingling with the feeling of you.

"Always," you smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.

[endearng]

Like father, like daughter

Pairing: teenager dad!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: Sometimes, you think Spencer made your daughter all on his own. Here are a few times that their manners supported your claim. WC: 2.7k Warnings: brief mentions of Spencer's past; mentions of underage drinking and bullying; he's an overprotective dad (because of course he is); JJ and Emily as a godmother couple <3<3<3 A/N: okay I'm super duper happy with how this one turned out. Yay!!! | Masterlist

Sitting together on your front porch, you and Spencer share the intimacy of the peaceful silence. Well, as far as peace goes — your 7 year-old son, Benjamin, plays with the dog, running back and forth, giggling and covering his entire overalls with mud. Barefoot in the grass, all you could do was pray they didn't mess the entire house when they eventually got back inside, but eh, that's a problem for future you. By your side, Spencer sits, focusing on going over his lecture plan for the day ahead, as barefoot as you are. There is a smudge of dirt in his cheek and your hands were feeling a little dry, proof from your earlier activities with Benji and the dog. After a couple minutes, Spencer places the paper aside, glancing lovingly as his son enjoyed being a kid.

You know, the whole projection thing. Spencer, as he raises his second child with you, feels as if his own childhood baggage means little to nothing now. Both of your kids are showered in the most pure love, and even though sometimes you struggle, like any other parents, you are proud of what you've achieved with them. Sometimes, Spencer just watches. Mesmerized. Entranced, as Benjamin discovers how the world works. They sit together by the small piano keyboard as his son attempts things in his own way, at his own pace. It is reinvigorating, to say the least, that the light given by your children and current life is able to burn some of the darkness that lingered in the back of his mind.

Between you two, Spencer is the quieter parent, while you often are seen as the ruler of the house due to his quiet nature. Despite it, all decisions regarding your children are taken together and, overall, you figure that it's how you've managed to stay together for this long. You are constantly discussing your relationship, both as a married couple and as parents, negotiating when some things get too rough or obscure for either of you, resigning when it's needed, but most importantly, loving each other all the way through.

Something that always catches your eye is how he manages to find his way into your heart every single day. You can only hope that's the case for you, too.

Running up to you, followed by a happily-wagging tail Midas, Benjamin giggled as he clutched your knee, resting his sweaty cheek on your thigh. "Mommy, Midas is doing it again.”

You stifle a laugh. Midas is a, thus far, small Samoyed puppy that reached about above Benjamin's knees. The fluffy friend had been a gift from his godmothers, JJ and Emily, after lots and lots of convincing that it would be good for the little boy. Despite the chaos he brings, you and Spencer find that Midas is great for your son's development and general well-being of the people in the house. In fact, Midas seems to have taken a special liking to you and to the little boy, following the two of you around the house whenever he could. Oh, well. Now you have three kids.

Anyway, by it, your son means to say that the dog was trying to climb him again, which, according to Benji, makes him feel ticklish. You gasped. "Oh, no! Midas, play nice!" You say, petting the dog's short ears as he wiggled his tail excitedly.

Benjamin seemed satisfied enough with your reprimand and Spencer smiles by your side, leaning down to plant a kiss to his son's cheek. "Daddy!" He shrieks, squirming and clutching your knee tighter, shoulders shaking with a childish giggle that makes you smile again.

Too involved in the moment, you two almost miss the arrival of your older daughter. Phoebe was almost turning 16. While having been a great child, not one to give you much trouble, her teenage years had been a challenging rollercoaster. First, during her early teenagehood, she struggled a lot to make friends after you and Spencer moved away from Washington, right after Benjamin's birth. You spent your days feeling worried and guilty for having seemingly taken her life away from her, and the thought ate you and your husband alive. Spencer barely slept, too focused on finding somewhere things might have gone wrong, where he might have done her wrong. After some therapy sessions and conversations with you and Spencer, she opened up to the two of you, quelling a bit of your blame. According to her, she felt homesick because the kids around her made her feel different from them. She didn't say anything further, and both you and Spencer respected the confidentiality between her and her therapist, who had filled you in on her behavior and guaranteed that there was nothing for us to worry about. Reluctantly, you believed her word, but never failed to keep her company.

Spencer, during that phase, went out of his way to be close to Phoebe. He took her out to the movies and they spent countless hours discussing them, taught her way around whatever subject she would have trouble with at school and the two of them danced together when she came home with an A+ on her tests. Besides, he delved deeply into her hobbies — you would never forget the day that they came home after a skating session and Spencer had a tear in his pants that exposed a bruised, bleeding knee. You tried to be as close to her as she let you, showing her around town, having weekly hangouts at her favorite ice-cream parlour, going shopping, listening about her days... One day, Spencer had traveled to be a consultant for the BAU for one particular demanding case. You two cared for Benjamin all night long and, pensively, Phoebe glanced between you and the baby securely cradled in your arms.

You had gotten the hint. Or so you thought.

"Hi, mom. Hi, dad. Benji. Midas." She greets, a bit awkwardly, wavy brown hair flowing with the soft breeze of wind.

"Midas says hi." Benji smiles, now back to being good friends with the dog, the two of them sitting on the grass in front of you and Spencer.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi, Ladybug.” Spencer greets back, beaming.

Ladybug. It was the second nickname that Spencer had come up with after formally introducing himself to your newborn baby.

The baby was as red as a tomato from all the exertion of the moment and from her loud crying. Tears rolled down your face as you cradled your daughter against your chest, taking in her soft features, already feeling the sheer force of an overwhelming love. She had the soft curve of her dad's nose, her small pout reminiscent of Spencer's on his baby pictures. You almost wanted to feel frustrated for carrying her for nine months for her to come as a doppelganger of her dad. As you rocked her softly, her skin touching yours, her crying subsided, giving way to big curious eyes looking all around — guess which color. Damn it.

Next to you, Spencer kneeled to get a good look on her face. He was mesmerized as he found in her eyes and soft little pout the traces of his complexion. “Hi, Phoebe��� you're so pretty, baby. I'm Spencer, your daddy. Look, this is your mommy…”

As he picked her from your arms, with the utmost care in the world, terrified that he'd drop her or break her were he to use too much strength, he felt complete. There would always be someone to look up to, to be someone for. And the thought made him equally frightened as delighted. "You look like a little dragon," he mumbled playfully instead, trying to downplay the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes.

Biting back an amused grin, tears brimming in your own eyes, you scolded, "I'm not letting you call our beautiful daughter a dragon, Spence!"

Obediently, he settled for an endeared whisper of Ladybug.

Phoebe mirrors her dad's expression. Sometimes, she looks eerily like him. The features, mannerisms, interests... "I was thinking that, um... since finals are over, maybe I could go to the movies?" She asks, nervously. The same fidgeting hands from Spencer all those years ago. You try not to swoon.

Spencer gives her a weird look, but she's too busy waiting for your answer that she misses it. Naturally, she would ask for your permission, just like Spencer himself and Benjamin went up to you to check if it was okay to make physics magic — you had once stepped on one that they had left lying on the floor, and it wasn't pretty. Neither the ache in your foot, nor your reprimand.

You smile, happy that she's taking upon herself to have her own free-time activities. "Of course, sweetie, it's alright." You answer neutrally, not missing to read the subtle glance that Spencer throws your way. "Who are you going with?”

“Some friends.”

“What friends?” Spencer inquiries.

Fidgeting, she answers, “Kristen, Charlie and Alison.”

“I don't know any of—”

You cut your husband's mutter off with a nudge of your elbow on his rib. "Alright, sweetie. I can drive you to the cinema.”

"No need!" She says, rushed. "We'll meet at Charlie's to walk there together.”

Spencer looks alarmed with anxiety. You were amused, but still played the part, feeding into both Spencer and Phoebe's own perspective of the right outcome of the situation. “Are you sure, Phoebe?”

“Yeah, mom. Don't worry.” She says, shyly, that little look in her eye that tells you she is hiding something. “Thanks for offering, though.”

“Of course, baby.”

Smiling softly, she dashes back into the house. Spencer shrieks by your side, “why would you do that?!”

You remain composed as ever. “Do what?”

He glares at your feigned-innocence tone.

"Spence, darling, Phoebe needs to trust us. Aren't you happy she's making friends and taking the initiative of going out?”

Spencer looks conflicted for a second. "Still, I don't know any of these people. They could be doing all sorts of wrong stuff, not to mention the influence they can have on Phoebe.”

“Spence, Charlie lives down the street. She's the one who was here the other day.”

He falters for a moment, searching his brain for the Charlie girl as you make a small gesture above your shoulder, meaning her haircut. “They are teenagers!”

“Darling,��� you say, placing your hand on his shoulder. “They're going to watch a movie. Trust her judgment, okay?” You ask, biting back a grin, amused by his sheer nervousness. You search Benjamin's eyes as if to say, can you believe this guy?!

You don't find them, though. Midas is trying to climb him again at a distance.

"Oh, so you're not taking this seriously, huh?" He asks, mildly upset.

"Darling, I am!” You say, smiling. “But Phoebe is a good kid. I think you're overreacting." You mumble the last part, glancing back at Benjamin. Midas is licking his face. You try not to think that just earlier, the dog was chewing on a dirty shoe.

"Overreacting?!"

You look at him, softening. He looks almost panicked. "Do you want me to call their parents? I'm sure she's left their numbers, like we always asked and she's rarely done because she doesn't leave the house without us." You say in a light tone, standing up, making your way inside the house to grab your cell phone. Spencer waits behind, anxiously, keeping an eye on Benjamin and his friend who were now playing fetch.

Barely sitting back on the chair, he starts, "A research shows that around 22.7 percent of high school students have consumed one drink of alcohol on at least one day in the month prior to this specific survey? Do you know how alarming that is? Besides, the results concluded that alcohol consumption is higher among female students.”

"Gee, and you're telling me we have one of these sleeping under the same roof as us?" You ask, amused, scrolling through your phone, and you can hear him huffing softly. Finding your and Phoebe's messages chat, which, like expected, were now spammed with the adults’ phone numbers, you show it to Spencer.

He breathes in. "I'm not convinced." He grumbles.

"Spence, come on, sweetheart... We've always been so careful with Phoebe. I think we should give her a little credit and be happy that she's taking her own steps." You say, now with an earnest tone. He sighs. “Plus, we do know which kind of behaviors and environments lead to underage drinking. We have a safe space.”

"You're right, you're right. I just... I'm so scared, you know? I guess I was secretly relieved to see that she was quieter like me, but I guess that's just me frustrated that she now gets a life of her own. And, you know, I've seen it all... I don't ever want anything to happen to her. Or to Benji. Not you, either. God, not you. Hell, not even Midas."

You chuckle softly, placing your hand on his shoulder again, giving it a gentle squeeze and kissing his temple. "We have the best one on our backs all the time. Can't go wrong with that."

Spencer smiles, seeming to finally have believed you. You two share a knowing, happy glance that spoke many things. Amidst them, there is the unchangeable, non negotiable, explicit truth: I'm so happy you're the one I'm doing this with.

As he stands up to clean up both Benjamin and Midas before they enter the house back again, you check the location that you had asked for her to share when you were inside the house. Cinema. Oof.

What? Even teenagers scare teenagers. How would they not scare you?!

—

Soon enough, Phoebe's social life blooms into weekly hangouts with those friends. Eventually, they began to come over to your home and Spencer was slowly warming up to them. The house, which barely registered Phoebe's voice before then, was now filled with laughter and young voices discussing things such as pop music, bands, politics and celebrities. Things go smoothly as ever. There is just a single problem that Phoebe chooses not to address. Whenever the girls go to the movies, Phoebe always feels a presence looming around. Call it sixth sense or being a girl, but sometimes, she can't help but feel like she is being watched.

Spencer, before meeting you, was as quiet and reserved as a stranger in a new country, only opening his mouth to speak about facts and relevant information to the cases in which he worked. It was well after your relationship that he began to speak more freely, more spontaneously. After six dates, you found out how his laughter sounded. It was shy, but it had an inherent adorableness to it that it was easily distinguished from the rest. It is an oddly endearing sound that Phoebe knew all too well, too used to hearing it from his (existential) dad jokes.

When she gets home, wearing a shoe of each color, matching with Kristen, Phoebe doesn't mention the familiar laughter at the movies. Instead, she just greets her dad and they have a glancing contest, a conversation in which you are nothing but a spectator. In the silence, they bloom together.

It was when Benji was almost turning eight, on a bet with his sister that he couldn't find the presents you and Spencer had gotten him earlier, that he found a love letter filled with soft pink lipstick marks under her bed. Benji showed it to you and your husband to ask why someone would kiss paper. After Spencer stuttered out an excuse and your son left to sit on the couch, you grinned. “It runs in the family,” you teased, remembering how Spencer would struggle to speak properly around you back when you were simply dating.

The lipstick shade matched the one Kristen was always wearing. Phoebe couldn't look you in the eye for a week after she got home and saw you and Spencer examining the paper in your hands, struggling to find the words to talk to Benji.

At Benji's birthday/Halloween party, Phoebe and Kristen dressed up as Marceline and Bubblegum. You, Spencer and Benji wore Scooby Doo's gang costumes with small pride pins on your chests. Midas wore a rainbow tie. A silent manifestation of your support, willing the two of them to speak at their own pace.

As you cleaned up as much as you could, guests already on their way home, Kristen approached you, an almost apprehensive edge on her voice, “Mrs. Reid, may I speak to you and your husband for a moment?”

You and Spencer shared a knowing look, already familiar with the outcome of that moment.

This is the simplest yet rarest joy in your life. To share it with Spencer.

[geethingy]

know when to walk away. know when to run.

fandom: criminal minds

w/c: 1943

content: fluff very cartoony goofy fluff

summary: morgan bets reid he can't go a day without rambling. reid takes him up on it.

a/n: i got a little carried away with everything that wasn't the main course but i promise it is there towards the end. open to criticism ☝️, i am still new at this and looking to improve.

p.s the penelope rant was all me i am penelope.

~~~~~~~~

Derek was starting to feel guilty. To an outside observer, nothing seemed unusual. Reid was sitting across from him on the jet, reading some book in Russian. At least he thought it was Russian. When he asked Reid if it was, he made a face which indicated it was not actually Russian. Any other day he would've corrected Derek on the fact it was Ukrainian (which Derek had to find out after looking the book up on his phone - tedious.) Any other day Reid would passionately explain away a passage in the book that particularly interested him. But today he was completely silent.

It was really starting to get to Derek. And he could tell the kid knew he was getting to him. Spencer would check his watch every so often, glimpse at him with a smug ass look on his face, then go back to his book. It was infuriating.

-----

The unsub they had been dealing with was a bride-killer. He targeted women during their bachelorette parties days before the women were set to be married. The only reason for him to pick such high-profile, high-risk women is if it were a compulsion.

“Maybe he’d gotten cheated on during his own bride’s bachelorette party,” Rossi said.

“Wouldn't he have to stalk these women for weeks to know they were getting married?” JJ questioned.

“Not necessarily,” said Morgan. “Wearing a bride-to-be sash like the victims were would be like waving a red cape at a bull.”

“It’s a common misconception but actually, bulls are colorblind. So it doesn't really matter what color the matador waves - it’s the cape’s movement that elicits an aggressive charge response in the bull.”

“...”

Everyone stared at Reid in a silence that stretched for seemingly forever. He shrunk under their intense gaze.

“Um, Morgan’s metaphor still applies here, though.”

Derek laughed the way he always did right before he teased Reid.

“I bet he can’t go a day without saying some completely unrelated fun fact during the investigation. He just can’t help himself.”

“It wasn’t completely unrelated..” Reid mumbled shyly, before speaking to be heard. “I can. But where's the fun in that?”

“You wanna put money on that?”

"Ooh, careful Morgan. Gambling with a Vegas boy is bound to go wrong." Rossi joked.

“The stakes are too unclear. And there would be too many technicalities. We'd argue over what constitutes as irrelevant to the investigation, what counts as a fun fact..” he trailed off as he realized the stares and silence were back.

“Okay, pretty boy. New stakes. I bet you can’t go without talking for… at least twelve hours. About anything.”

“Can I make any noise?”

“Hmm. Nah.”

“How much money?”

“Reid, Morgan, focus up.” Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose indignantly. “We need Reid to talk until the investigation is over. Then you can wager on your own time.” Hotch brought everyone’s attention back to catching the killer. From over his copy of the case file, Reid mouthed to Morgan. You’re on.

-----

It started right after the unsub was processed. Immediately after. As in, while Morgan was putting the suspect in cuffs, he had turned to Reid and said, “50 bucks?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Starting when?” The local PD came to take the unsub away.

“Now?”

Reid smiled confidently in response.

“Great work, everybody.” Hotch walked up to the team huddled inside the killer’s home. “Let’s get out of here. I’m buying coffee. What does everyone want?”

Reid opened his mouth to say something before pursing his lips. This would be harder than he thought.

-----

On the jet ride home, Derek had been trying to goad Reid into saying something. He facetimed Penelope.

“Hey mama, I got a question for you. Here, let me put you on speaker.”

“Oh! I love questions. You know I know everything. What’s up?”

He looked at Reid smugly as he talked, even though the kid was fixated on his book. “Why exactly does ‘Doctor Who’ spend so much time in places that look exactly like Earth when he's got a whole universe to explore? There ain’t no way Earth is more interesting than the entire universe.”

Oh my. The look on Reid’s face was devastating. The only time Morgan would ever willingly discuss Doctor Who, he couldn’t join the conversation. Derek’s heart would’ve broken if he hadn’t found it hilarious.

“...okay. Sweetheart, first of all, he is not called ‘Doctor Who.’ He’s called ‘The Doctor.’ Okay?” Penelope sighed, agitated. Some relief washed over Reid’s face as if that was what he wanted to say.

“Doctor Who is the name of the show. His identity is a mystery and he just goes by The Doctor. So people and alienfolk all go ‘Huh? What do you mean? Doctor Who?’ and that’s why the show is called that. You wouldn't call Captain Kirk 'Star Trek: The Original Series.'" Reid was positively pouting.

"Second of all, I heard about the little challenge you placed unto our baby genius and I will have no part in his torture. Tata.” Penelope hung up the phone.

Derek frowned and put the phone in his pocket. “Damn… I really was curious. Do you mind answering my question?” he taunted Reid with a toothy grin. Reid scowled and returned to his book. A true miracle he had so much self control over his hand gestures.

-----

Two hours had passed slowly and silently. It wasn’t fun anymore. Morgan had seen Reid perk up at least three times to infodump about the books he’s read during the flight, before he caught himself. Each time he was stupidly dejected afterward. Morgan didn’t love it. He hated it. The kid had been shut up his entire life by his peers and bullies. And now by his friends. His heart was actually starting to ache seeing his friend’s gaze become more and more distant.

“Hey, kid. Let’s just call it off.”

Spencer met his eyes and raised a brow.

“I wanna hear about the story. Genuinely.”

Spencer looked down at his watch, then crossed his arms. Morgan scoffed.

“Seriously, you want the 50 dollars that bad? There’s still an hour left before we land.” He didn't want to see Reid be depressed for the entire remainder of the flight. And the longer it went, it seemed less likely he'd be up for talking even after the time limit. Morgan couldn't handle that.

“C’mon man, it’s unhealthy for a brain to store so much information without an outlet. You’ll explode.”

Spencer smiled and huffed out of his nose. His eyes went wide. He awkwardly looked over to the side at nothing.

“..Was that a noise?” Spencer frowned and shook his head. A figmental lightbulb went off over Derek’s head.

He walked over to sit side-by-side with Spencer, who eyed him cautiously. He sighed. Maybe it was inappropriate to play dirty, but Spencer wasn't exactly giving him an option.

“Listen, we can do this the easy way. Where you open your mouth right now and call me an asshole for ever suggesting this stupid bet in the first place. Or we can do this, uh…” he grinned impishly, wiggling the fingers of one of his hands. “..the hard way.”

Spencer’s jaw clenched at the implication. He braved a face of nonchalance and for a moment, Derek thought maybe he wasn’t even ticklish. Or maybe he didn’t think Derek would actually do it. They were in front of their boss after all, their unit chief of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not in grade school.

But then Derek saw the red of his ears slowly make its way down to his cheeks and decided he couldn’t help himself. Plus, the kid wasn’t talking.

"Okay, have it your way."

It was childish, Derek would be the first to admit it. But he’d kill two birds with one stone. End the bet, and get Reid to smile a bit.

He wiggled an index finger lightly at the side of Spencer’s neck, which immediately got trapped. Spencer reached up to pull the hand out, before his wrist was snatched and Derek clawed at his ribs.

To Derek’s surprise, Spencer stayed quiet. His physical reaction, however, made up for it. He jerked and contorted so hard his back ended up on the seat of his chair. One leg curled up to protect the attacked side, while the other sprawled over Derek.

He kept his lips and eyes shut so tight they quivered.

“You’re kidding.” Derek was indignant. This was the most stubborn he’d ever seen him. “You can’t keep this up for an hour.”

After spending some time there, he moved up into his underarm. Spencer broke out into an open mouth grin and another spasm. But still no noise.

Derek let go of his wrist - bicep burning from Spencer's struggle against him - to use both his hands to tickle. Something happened that completely bewildered him.

Spencer was laughing. He was trembling, his stomach was tense, and his throat bobbed as it always did when he laughed. But it was silent. How the hell was he doing that? Why was he just taking it? Is he really going to endure this torture for the rest of the flight?

If he could, oh man. There was no way in hell Derek would stop. This was a much better sight than the sad quiet Spencer from earlier. He just wished he could hear it.

Derek was broken out of his thoughts when he saw tears fall from Spencer’s eyes, which suddenly looked much more desperate. He was turning a concerning shade of red. The drawback of silent laughter finally registered in Derek’s brain.

“Woah Jesus, kid! Breathe!” Derek immediately stilled his hands, reaching instead to grab hold of Reid’s face. It was hot to the touch. He quickly wiped away Reid's tears, which felt a bit intimate, but he didn't want the team to see he had accidentally tickled their greatest asset into crying. He figured Reid wouldn't want them to see either.

Derek helped him sit upright. Spencer breathed hard, a smile gracing his face as he peacefully closed his eyes in relief and weariness. His lips shaped in a circle to steady his breathing.

Absolutely infuriating. He would have passed out before he lost. It was a battle of wills, and even when Derek held all the cards, he folded first.

He wondered why Spencer was going so far for something so dumb. If he was trying to prove something to himself, to his team, to all the bullies who shut him up, Morgan would never live down the guilt. He hoped it was as simple as Reid just being a competitive little shit.

He groaned. “Okay, fine! You win, Spencer. You proved your point. You know how to stay quiet. Hell, not even I could…" he cleared his throat. "..uh, the point is, you won. You can have the 50 bucks. Please just talk to me.”

Spencer was still panting, the smile on his face seemed permanent. “You're.. an asshole,” he breathed. “And a cheater.”

“Yeah, I know.” Derek laughed.

“I still won, though. Whew."

“Yeah, yeah..” Relief. He was a competitive little shit.

"Can't believe you couldn't take just three hours of me not talking! You must really love learning."

He scoffed. "Whatever." Alright. The kid was starting to get cocky.

“Hasn't anyone ever told you cheaters never prosper?"

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” He pinched at his side and Spencer laughed. Audibly, this time. Garcia would call it a swoon-worthy sound. Maybe those were his words.

He pulled out his government issued wallet before his hand was stopped. “Oh. I don’t actually want your money.”

“A bet’s a bet, Reid. You earned it fair and square.”

“You wouldn’t take it if you had won.” Spencer smiled. “Just buy me a coffee when we land. I didn’t get any earlier.”

Derek shrugged. If he took any lesson away from this, it was that the doctor was stubborn. “Alright, fine by me.”

“And listen when I say the whole point of the Doctor’s archetype is to love Earth - specifically humanity - and for logistical reasons it’s just more convenient for the setting to be on Earth or on a planet that resembles Cardiff, Wales..” Here we go. Spencer rambled on, speaking quickly and more with his hands than anything. Derek rolled his eyes, but he sat back and listened.

[hotwritergf]

Socially awkward and easily flustered Spencer Reid loves to tease and make fun of Derek Morgan until he decides fuck it and pins him to his chair and tickles him. Not once does Spencer hate his comeuppance & Derek knows it, they love their little game of asking for it without asking for it.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

love bites | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation

a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️

(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)

Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.

He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.

“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.

Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.

Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.

Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”

“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.

He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.

Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.

“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.

“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.

“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”

Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”

Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”

He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.

Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.

It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.

Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.

“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.

You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”

Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.

You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.

You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.

You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.

There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.

One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.

He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.

“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”

Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.

His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”

“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.

And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.

You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.

One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”

You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.

Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”

You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."

[emilys-bangs]

this love is glowing in the dark | e.p

Tags: established relationship, sleepy tired emily, reader taking care of her, just fluff, lots of kisses, brief non sexual nudity (reader helps her undress), no use of yn

Summary: Emily comes home wrapped up in drowsiness. You help her into bed.

Word count: 1.1k

It took work to get here. 

To get Emily to accept your help. To get her to lay her guard down, to coax her fingers loose from the iron-tight grip she had on her independence and make her realize, bit by bit, that she doesn’t have to shoulder the weight of anything on her own. That you’re there to split the load and carry it with her. It shows, in small moments like these; in the warm glow of your bedroom light that doesn’t hide the wear and tear the day has left on her.

“Reid and Morgan were being a pain,” she murmurs, her voice low with the kind of quiet better suited for the deeper hours of the night, when indigo starts to blur into something deeper and eventually lighter. It’s steeped in exhaustion, her words thick and starting to slur, sticking together like honey.

Contrary to her expression, she doesn’t sound annoyed. You smile as you deftly undo her shirt buttons, taking a second to press a kiss to the soft, wilting line of her mouth.

“Another prank war?” 

Two, three, four buttons up until you reach the generous gap she’d already left open to expose the skin of her throat. Her shirt wilts apart; she shrugs it down her shoulders.

Emily’s brows pinch. “Something like that.” She says, undoing her belt with less finesse than she usually does. Her fingers fumble, heavy. “I don’t get how they have the energy for that. You’d mistake them for kids sometimes.” The buckle clinks; she pulls the belt through and tosses it on the bed. You grab her a pair of shorts while she kicks her slacks off, soft and forgiving cotton to soothe some of her roughed up edges.

Emily takes them with a rumpled smile. She pauses for a second, slow limbs coming to a brief stop as her eyes clear to focus on you, and leans in for a kiss that’s too generous for your small contribution. Her lips are warm, and you immediately reciprocate. You wrap your arms around her waist, fingertips finding the pearls of her spine and gently tracing them. She leans her weight against you, trusting; you grow breathless with something far more exhilarating than the press of her lips against yours.

You let her take what she needs. Softer, smaller pecks and her hands getting a feel for an outline long since memorized.

“Thanks. Wanted to shower, though,” she murmurs, words smothered against your mouth. You taste them, like the lingering tack of her lipstick.

“Tomorrow,” you gently rub her side. “You’re tired.”

The downturned tilt of her lashes does nothing to prove you wrong. Emily hums, straightening and pulling the shorts on. “When’s the weekend?” Her brow ticks upward, tone dry.

“Few days,” you smile sympathetically, gesturing to her bra. “Off?”

“Hmm,” she hums thickly. You reach behind her and snap it off, your lips automatically finding her jaw when you get this close. It’s just a brush, lost in the graceless tangle of limbs and flying clothes as you discard the bra and grab the tank top you’d already laid out for her. 

Emily doesn’t try to take it from you. She ducks her head into the neckline when you stretch it out, arms slipping through the straps and curling around your neck as you tug the material down her torso. Her grip is just loose enough; when you’re done her muscles lock for a second, pressing you into her chest.

The exhale she breathes out reverberates through both your bodies. Emily sags, boneless, her grip losing strength that you make up for as you squeeze her back. The warmth of her cheek bleeds into yours, her face half tucked into your neck, lashes wispy and ticklish when they beat against your skin. 

You hadn’t been particularly tense, but you relax completely with her in your arms like this. It’s hard not to. Her even breaths warm your neck, fingers dipping past the waistband of your sweatpants and staying there.

“And how was your day?” She asks after a while, the velvet of her voice worn down to something gritty.

You rub a path down her back. “Mind numbingly average.”

“That sounds nice.”

“What about food, does that sound nice?”

Emily shakes her head. “Tired,” she says.

“We can bring it to bed.”

She doesn’t answer. You suspect she’s close to falling asleep, but she just frees herself from your arms, yawning as she takes off her watch and places it on the dresser. You glimpse glimmering gold where the chain of her necklace parts her hair around it. She always takes them off, too—usually all jewelry except for her earrings. Sure enough, as you’re gathering her hair over one shoulder, her arms belatedly come up, reaching for her neck.

“I got it,” you whisper. 

Emily’s hands fall, shoulder blades shifting under her shirt as you undo the clasp of her necklace and take it off. It’s a pretty thing, a small flower encrusted with glinting gemstones that she always comes back to. You kiss the warm nape of her neck where it laid and nudge her into bed, carefully storing the necklace before grabbing her pack of makeup wipes.

She’s yawning again as you settle in next to her and gently grab her chin, starting to wipe her makeup off. The wipe turns pink with her leftover blush, darkening when you use it to clean off her lipstick.

“I can do it,” Emily mumbles, an idle hand falling to your waist.

“I know you can.” You kiss the tip of her nose. Her lashes flutter shut. “I don’t want you to.”

Her fingers squeeze. The surface of her chest caves beneath an exhaled breath, quiet and shuddering. “You’re spoiling me.” She says softly.

You shake your head, gently rubbing the mascara from her eyes. “I love you.”

Emily’s throat bobs with a swallow.

The wipe turns muddy. You replace it to make sure Emily’s face is clean, then toss both in the trash and get under the sheets with her, even though a glance at the clock tells you it’s barely six thirty.

She immediately pillows her head on your chest. Your arm curls around her waist, rubbing the same wide circles above her shirt.

“Food?” You ask.

“Sleep.” Emily rasps. “Just for a little bit, I’m tired.”

You mouth a kiss to her hairline. “Okay. Does an hour sound good?”

She hums, slotting a leg between yours. You idly rake your fingers through her hair. Sometimes it helps her sink faster into sleep, the drag of your nails against her scalp lulling her into cushiony darkness.

“Love you,” Emily whispers.

She’s asleep before you hum back your response.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when spencer comes home all you want to do is kiss him—but you find out he finds your kisses a little ticklish

𝐜𝐰: female!reader, established relationship, teasing, kissing, fluff, cheesy writing, spencer being ticklish, 764, spencer reid x reader

<3

you hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. spencer is home. the anticipation builds up as you rush to greet him, a smile playing on your lips. you can't wait to shower him with affection, to feel the warmth of his embrace.

spencer steps into the cozy living room, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of you. his day has been long, and the exhaustion on his face is evident. but you, you're the beacon of comfort he longs for. he sheds his jacket, and you dart towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"hey, sweetheart." spencer greets you with a tired but genuine smile, his arms opening for a hug. you happily embrace him, feeling the stress of the day melt away. spencer’s scent, a comforting mix of his cologne and a hint of the office wraps around you like a familiar blanket. for a moment, you just savor the closeness, reveling in the simple joy of being in each other's arms.

when you both pull away from each other, you tug at his hands and walk backward towards the couch, pulling spencer along with you. there’s a playful glint in your eyes, causing spencer to raise a curious brow at you, questioning your presumably mischievous intentions.

you laugh to yourself before reaching the couch, gently pushing spencer down by his chest and situating yourself onto his lap.

you push his unruly curls behind his ears and plant your hands on his chest, as the both of you share a sweet moment of warmth and comfort. but that moment is short lived before the mischievous spark in your eye returns, and a smirk finds a home upon your lips.

spencer gazes at you, pupils dilated with affection, “what’s going on in that brain of yours?” he asks, snaking his arms around your waist to hug you closer to his chest—which you gladly melt into.

You laugh, feigning innocence, “oh, nothing. just thinking about how much I missed you today.” you whisper, leaning closer to connect your lips with his. he grins, leaning in for a sweet kiss.

you bring one hand to his shoulder and the other reaches behind his head to the base of his neck, where you massage the stress of the day out of your boyfriend. you then begin to kiss along his jaw, before bringing your lips down to his neck. when your lips meet where his jaw meets his neck you feel a subtle twitch from spencer. it wasn't a recoil, but more of a ticklish response. you pull away, a quizzical look on your face.

“what’s up?" he asks nervously, noticing your expression.

“did that tickle?" you tease, a playful glimmer in your eyes while you continue to rub the base of his neck.

spencer laughs, a bit sheepishly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “maybe a little,” he admits shyly, running a wavering hand through his hair.

“aw, spence.” you smile, bringing your hand up to spencer’s face and softly kissing his rose-colored cheek. a mischievous spark ignites within you. a new discovery has unfolded, and you can't resist the temptation to explore it further. the notion that your kisses have a ticklish effect on spencer adds to your urge to kiss him.

but you let it go, for now. settling for another sweet kiss on the lips, before sliding off spencer’s lap and snuggling up beside him.

as you sit together on the couch, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, the tv flickers with the soft glow of a movie you’re watching. but your attention is diverted. you decide to test the waters, to see just how ticklish spencer can be. with a sly smile, you lean in for another kiss, focusing on that spot where his jaw meets his neck.

a subtle shiver runs through spencer’s body, and you can't help but giggle at the adorable reaction. his attempts to suppress his own giggles make the situation even more endearing. the movie becomes a mere backdrop to the newfound game between you two—a game of giggles and kisses.

spencer squirms as you kiss his neck. you hop back onto his lap, this time straddling his waist. spencer lets out a particularly loud giggle causing you to lean back and look at his face. his eyes are crinkled and his lips stretch out into an endearing smile.

“that’s my favorite sound.” you whisper sweetly, before spencer’s fingers dance along your waist, making you let out a loud giggle of your own.

“and that’s mine.”

masterlist . spencer reid masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[reidsrambles]

Part 2: New Year's Day

This is part 2 of a duo, so please go read part 1, New Year's Eve, if you haven't yet!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Description: My only New Year's Eve plan is to help my best friend Penelope entertain her many party guests. When I find myself alone with her coworker, Spencer (who I've had a crush on for ages), it seems that my New Year's might turn out different than I had planned.

(Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI] smut, protected (condom) PiV sex, oral sex (F receiving), brief mention of being drunk or high in the past

A/N: Again, down the wire! I've been writing literally all day. It's 10 PM and I haven't yet made dinner... I wrote and edited this one basically just today?? So if there are any mistakes or I missed any warnings, pls lmk tysm. Again, credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider graphics, including the one I cropped below.

Names used: Baby

Words (this chapter): 3,734

Words (total): 5,759

The kiss is desperate, but not rough. He’s kissing me back, right? I pull my face away. He leans his forehead against mine, both of us panting into the mere inches between our lips. 

He doesn’t loosen his hold on my body. “Is everything okay? We can stop if you want.” 

“I don’t want to stop.” I grip the fabric of his shirt where my hands lie on his back. “Do you want to stop?”

His hand snakes down to my ass, splaying wide across it. He pulls my body into his, letting me feel his hardening cock.

“I really don’t want to stop,” he breathes into my neck, just below my ear, “but I have to confess something before we go any further.”

What the hell? Does he have an STI that I need to know about? Trouble keeping it up? I mean, that doesn’t seem to be a problem, but you never know. Is he already with someone? Penelope didn’t say he had a partner, but maybe he’s kept them a secret?

We both still, Spencer breathing against my neck. I’d consider it ticklish if not for the jolt it sends straight to my core.

“I’ve been attracted to you for a long time, but I was too scared to say anything.” The words come out of Spencer’s mouth. Not mine. Holy shit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I laugh, dropping my head to Spencer’s chest in utter bewilderment. “I’ve had a crush on you since the first time we met. Penelope hasn’t stopped teasing me about it since.”

“Glad I’m not alone in that,” he laughs.

“Happy New Year, by the way,” I say, lifting my head to look at him again. Eyes, lips. Eyes, lips. 

“Happy New Year,” he breathes, hovering against my lips. Oppositely charged magnets falling in order with the laws of physics. Complying with the will of the universe.

I’ve never been kissed like this. Maybe it’s the thrill of unrequited lust finally requited, or maybe Spencer is just a really good kisser. His hands cradle my head on both sides. It’s like he could kiss you for hours and never be sick of it. Every soft, lush kiss plays against the intermittent roughness. The desperate ones, where lips are bit and tongues are engaged in the fervor. It feels wholly consuming and incomplete at the same time. 

“We don’t have to do anything else,” I say, “but to be clear, I’m definitely down if you want to.”

He shakes his head and steps back, putting distance between us. He clenches and unclenches his hands and then rubs his palms against his dress pants. 

My eyes catch on the bulge in his pants, and shamelessly, I can’t stop staring at it. I’ve imagined it before, in my most desperate, lonely moments. Right after breakups, when I’d rather escape into my imagination to soothe me. After running into him at one of Penelope’s get-togethers. I’d steal every shy glance at him, trying to memorize his features. Then I’d go home and imagine myself kissing every inch of him.

I know I probably just need a good eight to…twelve hours of sleep to clear the fog in my brain that’s making this feel like another one of my erotic daydreams. But maybe being a bit out of it is what led me to kiss him like that. If I had been at my most rational, I probably wouldn’t have.

Spencer wipes at his face. He can’t stop moving his hands. Biting a nail between his teeth. Gripping the material of his pants. Crossing and uncrossing his arms. 

“[Y/N], you have no idea how badly I want to.” My heart sinks into my stomach. There’s always a but. “But I don’t want it to happen like this.”

I nod slowly, genuinely trying to avoid letting my disappointment come across as pouting. “Okay. That’s fair.”

He looks utterly exasperated, trying to keep his hands off me, and I’ve never felt so horny and so dejected at the same time. If he didn’t clearly state that he’s into me, I can’t lie and say that I wouldn’t feel extremely rejected right now.

“I’ve thought about it before,” he says. “What it would be like… to be with you. I just don’t want the first time to be at a party, in Penelope’s guest room”

I sit back down on the bed, willing my body to cool down, but it’s a non-starter. “I’ve thought about it before. What it would be like… to be with you,” playing back in my head on an unending loop. Clenched thighs give my clit the slightest bit of attention and ease the ache every so slightly.

“I’ve thought about it too,” I say, reminiscing about the numerous dirty fantasies I’ve crafted in my head over the years. I owe far too many orgasms to my vibrator, and to imaginary Spencer praising me, begging me to cum.

He rakes his fingers through his hair. “God, this is so hard.” 

Hard, indeed. I selfishly ogle the tent in his pants again, taking advantage of the fact that he’s struggling to look in my direction. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask. “Do you want to leave?”

He joins me on the edge of the mattress. Again, a respectable distance between us. 

He sighs. “If I don’t leave now, I don’t think I’ll have enough self-control to stop myself.”

Yet, he’s sitting beside me, wringing his hands in his lap. 

Before I can formulate any response, he starts. “What about when the party ends?”

“I locked the door on the way in. I didn’t want anyone barging in here trying to find the bathroom. And,” I gesture to the door, the party even louder now that the champagne is flowing, “this party doesn’t die down until three, maybe four.”

“I don’t have a condom, either,” he says quietly.

I push myself up off the bed and walk over to the bedside table. I’ve stayed in this room many times. Usually, when I get drunk or high and can’t drive home. Penelope snores. As much as I love her to bits, if she didn’t have a guest bedroom, I’d be sleeping on the couch. 

I rifle through the top drawer. A couple of individually packaged toothbrushes. A couple of mini bottles of mouthwash. Charging cables. Nope, nope, nope. 

I squat down to look through the bottom drawer, consciously arching my back and popping my ass out a bit. I know they’re in here somewhere. In the back of the drawer, tucked away, is a small, colorful zipper pouch. I’ve stumbled across this pouch before, but I can safely say that I’ve never used it. I hope nobody else has, either, honestly. Tucked inside is a roll of male condoms and a few individually packaged female condoms. 

I (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) cross my fingers as I check the date printed across the wrapper. They aren’t expired. Thank fucking god. 

I rip one off at the perforated line and place it in Spencer’s hand. 

He fiddles with the foil wrapper in his fingers. Not opening it. Just turning it in his hands.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. “Here? Like this?”

“Before tonight, I honestly thought there was zero chance you liked me. I’ve wanted this for so long, and I’m so incredibly horny right now that it’s actually hard to think straight.” I wrap my hand around his, and he stops fidgeting. “Is there anything else?”

My question is sincere and gentle. Is there anything else that you need to reassure you that I want this? Is there anything else you need?

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but I was tested after,” he says.

“I was tested after my last partner.”

I start undoing my blouse. Button by button. Lower and lower. Spencer mirrors me, undoing his crisp, blue dress shirt. Button by button. Lower and lower.

“And we can stop at any point, so please let me know if there’s anything you want or don’t want,” he says.

“Same goes for you.”

I slide my blouse off and unzip my skirt at the side. With my tights already off, I’m left in just my bra and underwear, my clothes in a pile beside the bed. Spencer takes his shirt off and his pants follow. He tries his best to quickly fold them, and in two large strides, he places them on top of the dresser. 

He turns to face me. In just his underwear, I have quite the view. I don’t even think he’s fully hard, but my mouth is watering at the outline of him. The butterflies are gone, replaced by a pang of hunger. I want to lick and taste every inch of him. The mental renderings I’ve crafted of Spencer in the past are all wiped from my memory. I have no use for them anymore. I have the real thing, actively being encoded into memory. 

He comes to stand between my legs. Still seated, his veiled cock is right in front of my face. 

“[Y/N], there’s just one more question that I have to ask first.”

I can only imagine what he sees looking down at me. As I look up at him through my lashes, my wet lips and flushed, glowing cheeks sit right next to his hard cock.

Does he know that I’ve been rocking my hips and squeezing my thighs together just to pacify my throbbing clit? 

“Can we go on a real date too sometime?” he says. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing, and I also don’t want this to ruin my chances with you.” 

I feel stupid for not thinking that far ahead. If he had just wanted this to be a one-night stand, I would have accepted that, even though I know I want more with him. 

I nod and kiss the front of his hip, earning a stuttered breath from him when my cheek grazes his bulge. 

“I’d love that, Spencer.” 

I drag my face across his covered cock. Everything about this—about him—is intoxicating. I breathe him in, my hands on his hips, and the scent feels like a drug I could get high off of. 

“Can you lie down?” he says. 

I have no objections. 

I rip my bra and underwear off as fast as I can manage, pulling my bra over my head instead of undoing the clasps. I toss them to the floor to join the rest of my clothes. I’m, maybe a bit shamelessly, too eager to waste any time. 

Spencer is standing next to the bed, naked, jaw slack, just stroking himself to nothing but my naked body. That’ll do great things for the ego. 

“You are…” he breathes, shaking his head. The words he’s missing hang somewhere in the air, but he doesn’t look away from me long enough to search for them.

He opens the foil wrapper, rolls the condom on, and crawls onto the bed between my legs. I expect him to just shove it in there, but instead, he drags two long fingers through my wetness, absolutely mesmerized.

“Perfect,” he says, staring at my pussy. “So perfect.” 

He slides one finger inside me and I gasp. It doesn’t fill me, but when he takes it out a moment later, I still mourn the emptiness. He takes the same finger into his mouth, eyes closed as he admires the taste of me. 

I’m pretty sure that I can’t get any hornier than I am at this moment. It’s physiologically impossible. 

“Please, Spencer. Fuck,” I whine. “I need you inside me.”

Quick pecks trace a line up my body, and Spencer kisses me, bodies pressed together like he’s never going to kiss me again. It’s deep, sloppy, and passionate. Moaning into each other’s mouths as I grip his hips. His cock is nestled in my center. I grind against it.

Breathless, Spencer lifts his body just enough to reach between us, guiding his cock to where we need it. 

I close my eyes as he enters me; I have to turn off one of my senses to process it. In the black void behind my eyelids, I can feel everything. I can hear everything. A choked moan at the back of my throat breaks free. He pushes in further. Spencer shifts from his hands to his elbows, using the leverage to slide in even more. 

“Oh, god. This is so much better than I imagined,” he says, his voice strained from pleasure.

Was Spencer thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him? Like two lovers wondering if the other is gazing up at the moon at the same time. I open my eyes. The tufts of hair framing his face flop down, a few stray strands sticking to his face. The room is already warming and his skin glistens in it. 

“What did you think about? What did you imagine?” I ask.

He fills me to the hilt, and his lips find mine; the kiss a fierce declaration that this shared sensation in our bodies is indeed shared. Spencer is feeling the same utter bliss that I am, and the thought of that alone sends a spark to my core. I’m making him feel this good. 

Spencer remains unmoving, huffing breaths intermixed with muttered curses as he adjusts. The part where we’re united throbs like a beating heart, both of our bodies diverting blood from our brains to fuel this tryst. 

“I felt so ashamed thinking about you like that,” he whispers against my cheek, “not knowing if you wanted me, too.”

Pinned beneath him, I push my hips up against him as much as I can manage, desperate for more. Spencer’s eyes flutter closed as he matches my movements, his cock sliding in and out as we grind into each other.

“Did you think about what I’d feel like the first time? Because I thought about what you’d feel like inside me.”

Earning moans from Spencer feels like a gift. A secret that has been bestowed upon me. For my ears only. I want to wrap this secret up and hide it under my bed. To throw it in a box and padlock it shut. I want to place it in a fancy locket, one I hide under my shirt, tucked up safe against my skin where nobody else can reach it.

“I thought about that far too much.” He shakes his head. “But you’re even better than I could’ve imagined.”

He pumps into me a few more times, hard and fast, as our bodies take the wheel, chasing the zenith of pleasure. We move together as a duet. The song? A lullaby of moans, whimpers, and whispered praises.

With each thrust, his body presses against my clit.

“Oh my god. You feel so fucking good, Spencer.”

He reaches a hand up to the side of my face, cradling my head and stroking my cheek with his thumb. I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. His thumb is icy in comparison. 

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He glances at my chest, and then his eyes dart as he takes in the rest of my body. “Your body is perfect.” He peppers kisses across my lips, my shoulder, my neck. Every place his lips touch stings like I’ve been branded. “Perfect,” he breathes against my neck. 

“How did I taste?” I ask, remembering Spencer licking his finger clean.

“Addictive” is the word he chooses, and thoughts of Spencer’s head between my legs—in my own bed—consume me.

He slows, almost to a stop. “Would you mind if I…?”

I finish his trailed-off sentence, not entirely sure if I’m right on the money or not. “Go down on me?” 

He nods, and a breathy, “please,” is all I can manage to squeak out. It would be damn near impossible to think of a single reason to deny this man in his request.

Between my legs—framed like a work of art—Spencer keeps his eyes locked on my face as he trails his tongue up between my lips. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god. Please. Please keep going.”

He moans into my pussy, wasting no time in getting into it. 

“Can I grab your head as I get close?”

He whines, “please,” against my skin, and I tell him to pinch me if he needs me to loosen my grip. 

Spencer’s long arms wrap around my thighs, keeping me from squirming away. I’ve never had anyone go down on me like this. He is feral, barely coming up for air. I reach down to slide my fingers into his hair, feeling myself inch closer and closer by the second. He’s humping the bed, large dimples forming in his plush ass. I just want to dig my nails into it.

One arm lifts from its spot around my leg. Spencer is a man on a mission. He needs that arm, that hand, those fingers. Two fingers slide inside me, and I know I’m not going to last. I squirm against him and he lets me control the penetration, keeping his hand still. His mouth, however, continues in its relentless pursuit. 

I feel like I’ve unlocked something here. This version of Spencer is unleashed. He’s had his taste of the forbidden fruit, and he’s fully invested. 

I grip his head, needing to pull him into me. Needing to control the pressure.

“Spencer, fuck.”

“Yes, baby. Please cum in my mouth.”

“I—” is all I spit out before it hits me. A tidal wave of heat and pressure that radiates from my core. I grip Spencer’s hair between my fingers and he moans even harder. I squeeze my eyes shut so hard that, when I open them, my vision is a pinhole vignetted by fuzzy white light. His tongue continues lapping at my center until my thighs trap his head, my clit unable to take anymore. 

My whole body is tingling. Every nerve in my body is on high alert. My ab muscles twitch with each jerky breath as the lingering shockwaves work through me. 

Spencer is kissing my thighs as if each space his lips touch is better than the last. He is relishing in my body. Worshipping it. 

In this state, having cum so hard that my ears are ringing, I probably wouldn’t hesitate to declare my ardent love for him. Thankfully, I have some logic system deep in my brain that remains online and protects me from stupid mistakes like that. 

“Spencer, please. Get back inside me.”

The moan that spills from us both as he slides back inside me, my pussy still throbbing with aftershocks, should be tattooed somewhere on my body. The waveform of it or whatever. My new New Year’s resolution: get a tattoo. Add that to my other New Year’s resolution: let Spencer Reid fucking rail me in every way possible.

His thrusts are already sloppier than before. “Yes, fuck. Yes. Do you know how fucking good you taste, baby? I could eat you out for hours. So perfect.” 

I grab his jaw and kiss him, tasting myself. Tasting me and him mixed together. 

“Spencer, I’ve wanted this for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Exhaustion, overwhelm, pleasure, and lust well up right at the finish line. Every sporadic back-arching thrust flutters my eyelids, pushing a small tear down both sides of my face.

“The first day I met you,” he says, struggling to get the words out fluidly, “you were the most beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

My hands slide to his ass, and I grip the flesh. I want my nails to leave a mark. I want to claim him as my own. 

“Cum inside me, Spencer.” 

He pounds into me, hard. The passion he showed while giving me oral is back in full force. 

His head falls into the crook of my neck as he works himself to the edge, muffling the dirty string of words that escape as he falls apart. His cock twitches hard inside me as he spills into the condom. I wish he was condomless, shooting his ropes of cum deep within me. But maybe that’s just a dirty fantasy that will never come to fruition. 

Spencer peppers me with some more kisses before getting up to discard the condom in the small trash can beside the door.

“I’ll change that garbage bag before I leave,” he says.

“I’m going to have to tell her,” I say, pulling my underwear up. “I’ll have to do some laundry for sure.” I gesture to the disheveled, dirty sheets. 

“Yeah, I know. She’s nosy, so I bet she’d figure it out regardless,” he laughs. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need. With the cleanup.”

The party noise is more subdued, but it sounds like the majority of guests are still here. The small digital alarm clock beside the bed reads 1:15 AM. 

“Wanna just wait it out?” I ask, straightening out the sheets just enough to crawl under them. “I promised Penelope I’d help her clean up, anyway.”

Spencer slips in beside me and I snuggle into his side, draping my leg over his and wrapping an arm across his chest. 

“I much prefer it in here,” he says, pressing his lips to my temple. 

I kiss him one last time, long and tender, before resting my head on his shoulder. I don’t even get a word out of my mouth before I crash once more.

A sharp knock on the door jolts me and Spencer from our very deep slumber. Morning light filters through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. I rub my eyes, swiping away the remnants of such a sleep. On the plus side, I feel fucking fantastic. Spencer sits up and stretches his arms above his head.

Another knock. Much harder.

“[Y/N]?” Penelope asks through the door.

We hop out of bed to hurriedly finish redressing ourselves.

“Shit, I fell asleep last night! I’m sorry, Pen!” I yell to her.

“Is…Spencer still in there with you?”

“Yes,” I say, annoyed. “Happy now?”

“I cleared off some space on the counter and started making breakfast whenever you two are dressed!”

Previous Chapter: New Year's Eve

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

[awkwardlyflustered]

Best Babysitter Ever

A/N: I have been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, I just started it over for like the 5th time. I love the BAU so goddamn much, and I specifically love Reid (he’s just a lil guy) so y’all better get so ready for so much lee Reid in the upcoming weeks. For now though, Reid and Hotch interacting has my entire soul and being so here’s a quick little story for the two of them. 

“Hotch, I promise you everything will be okay, I read five parenting books on the way here just to prepare.”

“I know, I trust you’re gonna be fine, you’ve just never babysat by yourself before, and JJ was supposed to come over and help…” Hotch trailed off, unable to keep the overprotective dad side from surfacing. 

“We’ll be fine! I’m great with kids,” Reid continued to argue, “We’ll have so much fun, isn’t that right Jack?” Both men turned their eyes over to the small six year old playing with his trucks in the corner. Jack agreed enthusiastically and ran over to hug Spencer’s leg. 

“Alright, I’m sure you guys will be fine,” Hotch finally relented. “Reid, call me if you need anything at all, and Jack, be good for Spencer” Spencer gave a salute towards his boss as Jack ran to hug his dad goodbye. 

A few hours later, Hotch walked back into his house and was immediately greeted by the loud screams of laughter from Jack. Smiling, he made his way towards the two, not saying anything. 

“SPEHEHENCEHEHER!” Jack squealed as Reid’s fingers scribbled across his belly. 

“Spencer? Who’s Spencer, I’m the tickle monster!” The curly haired boy announced, scooping up the small kid’s wrists in one hand, and drilling into his underarms with the other. Jack kicked out and tried to squirm away from the intruding hands, finally noticing his dad standing over the two of them. 

“DAHAHAHAHD HEHEHEHELP!!” 

“You can scream all you want, no one can save you from the tickle monster!” Reid called out with a grin taking over his face as he turned to Hotch as a greeting. 

“You heard him Jack, I can’t save you, there’s nothing I can do.” Hotch had a soft grin taking over his face as well, though not quite as smug as Spencer’s. 

“PLEHEHEASE,” Jack whined out, obviously enjoying himself. 

“Hmm alright fine, I’ll do my best but no promises.” Hotch threw his coat that he had just taken off onto the couch and crouched down by the two of them. “Let’s see here…” he muttered out, taking a hold of Jack’s arms and pretending to pull as hard as he could. 

“You’re no match for my incredible strength!” Spencer continued in character, vibrating his fingers into Jack’s ribs causing a whole new round of laughter. 

“Hmm I have an idea,” Hotch thought aloud as he stalked towards Spencer. 

“You’ll never beat me! Jack will be mine forever,” the so-called tickle monster called out yet again, too busy with his charade to pay any attention to the older man getting closer and closer to him. Without warning, Hotch practically tackled Spencer and started digging into his ribs. Spencer squealed and kicked his feet, completely caught

off guard by the attack. Jack quickly stood up from his position on the floor cheering and encouraging the attack. 

“Well well well, looks like the tickle monster is ticklish.”

“Nohohoho” Reid giggled out, weakly swatting at the offending hands currently wracking his nerves. Hotch grabbed Spencer arms and held them above his head, waiting while Reid panted beneath him.

“Hey Jack, come here,” the father beckoned his son over, and started pointing along Reid’s torso. “You know if you poke him right here he makes a really silly noise.” Jack, excited he got to play too began poking his little fingers along Spencer’s tummy. With every poke Spencer gave a hiccupy squeal, that quickly advanced into hiccupy giggles when Hotch’s fingers found their way to his upper ribs. 

“Wahahahait guhuhuys,” he pleaded, being careful with his squirming to not hurt Jack. 

“This is only fair after you tickled Jack for so long, what do you think buddy?”

“Yeah! You did this to me, you deserve it!” Reid just squeezed his eyes shut, threw his head back, and gave into the ticklish sensations. 

The Hotchner duo continued their attack for a few more minutes, making sure to get thorough revenge on the tickle monster before letting him up. Spencer sat up panting, with slight tears in the corners of his eyes. 

“The tickle monster isn’t gonna forget this, you better watch out,” he teased Jack, reaching out to pinch his side. 

“My dad will rescue me every time!” Jack replied indignantly, clinging to his dad’s leg. 

“I absolutely will,” Hotch reassured, ruffling his son’s hair, “But until you need more rescuing, it looks like it’s time for bed. Go start getting ready.” With that, Jack starting running off to get ready for bed, but quickly back tracked to give a crashing hug to Reid.

“Goodnight Spencer, thank you for playing with me.”

“Of course kid,” Reid replied, hugging Jack tightly. “I had fun playing with you.”

“Are you gonna come back tomorrow?” Hotch interrupted the interaction before Reid could be put on the spot.

“No buddy, not tomorrow, but you’ll see Spencer again soon.” Jack just nodded and finally left the two to begin getting ready for bed. Spencer stood up from the floor to stand next to Hotch.

“So I take it the babysitting went well?” Hotch asked with a slight smirk. Spencer nodded happily.

“Yeah, Jack is great. We had a lot of fun together.”

“I could see that. Do you maybe want to come back next week to babysit some more?” Spencer nodded again, much more enthusiastically. “And I take it the tickle monster will be making another appearance?” Spencer blushed out to his ears at the mention of the silly character. 

“Maybe he will.”

“Well then it looks like I’ll have some more rescuing to do, won’t I?” Reid just smiled and looked down at the ground, too sheepish to continue meeting Hotch’s eye. Hotch smiled warmly, remembering just how young Reid actually is despite his age. He quickly pulled Reid in for a hug.

“Thank you again Spencer.” 

“You’re welcome, it was nice getting to feel like an older brother for a little while.” Spencer’s eyes widened and he pulled away from the hug as he realized what he just said. “Not like that I just meant-”

“You’re the best big brother Jack could ask for,” Hotch assured the genius, clapping him on the shoulder. Spencer smiled an almost cheshire grin as the pink tint returned once again to his cheeks. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” he called out, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Yep, and I can’t wait to see the rest of the team and inform them of what a great babysitter the tickle monster is,” Hotch teased, a smirk taking over his features. Reid froze, his hand on the doorknob. 

“Hotch you can tell anyone and everyone you want, but don’t tell Morgan I’m ticklish, he’ll never let me live it down.”

“I don’t know, I think Morgan would really like to know…”

“Hotch!”

“Alright alright, I’ll keep it to myself, for now anyways.” Spencer breathed a quick sigh of relief and waved goodbye before leaving the house. 

Hotch smiled fondly, and pulled out his phone to text Derek. 

Tomorrow morning you should ask Reid how babysitting went. He has a really funny secret to tell you

“Technically, I’m not gonna tell him anything,” Hotch muttered to himself, smiling. “Plus what fun is having this information if I’m just gonna keep it to myself?” With that, he walked towards Jack’s room ready to tuck him into bed. His heart was full between his son and his work family, he couldn’t be any happier. 

[pastelpiggielol]

Another Spencer ticfic!

By request I’m posting another criminal minds ticfic! This one is Spencer getting got by most of the team 🤭

This was written in collaboration with my wonderful boyfriend @kt-the-lee !

Word count: 1615

Characters: Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan

The rest of the team smiled fondly and rolled their eyes. It was the end of yet another long, long day, and they were all clearing up their desks for the night. In doing so, Derek had found a baseball in a drawer and juggled it in his hands before throwing it to Spencer. Despite his usual lack of co-ordination and the fact that he held an almost-empty mug of coffee in one hand, Spencer was alert enough to catch the ball in his free hand.

"Yes, pretty boy, we saw." chuckled Morgan. "Are we ever going to hear the end of this."

"Absolutely not!" he grinned, raising both of his arms in the air in triumph. "I don't want to hear a single word about my lack of co-ordination ever again, seeing as I just caught this in ONE HAND"

Spencer continued his gloating, arms still raised, to the point where everyone else in the room was starting to get playfully annoyed. Emily in particular was hoping he'd come to an end soon, but that end did not seem near in the slightest. She sighed in mock-exasperation and moved to walk past him.

"Yeah yeah Spencer, we get it!" groaned Emily as she ambled past him, reaching out to playfully poke at his exposed torso on her way. She had hoped this action may cause him to hold his tongue, and it did. What she did not expect was for Spencer to drop the coffee he was holding, fold in half like a deckchair and let out a small squeal. 

Emily stopped in her tracks, a grin reaching her ears as she stared with both surprise and deviance. Spencer had also stopped dead, eyes widened in fear as the rest of the team chuckled around the pair of them.

"Oh...?" said Emily teasingly, her voice dripping with mischief. "Well, what have I discovered here!"

"Not anything that we didn't already know!" chuckled JJ. "I suppose you're still too new to know about Reid's... sensitivity."

"Oh but JJ, it's so much more fun when you say the word." grinned Morgan. "He can't handle hearing the word tickle in any situation, just look at the poor boy!

Everyone turned to see Spencer flush the same colour as one of Garcia's dresses as Derek emphasised that word. Nobody knew quite why hearing any variation of the word "tickle" out loud made him so embarrassed, even Spencer himself couldn't figure out why. However, it made teasing him all the more effective. Emily's grin became more and more shit-eating by the second, immediately throwing herself into this new game. 

"Damn, I can't believe it's taken me this long to realise that the genius boy-wonder is ticklish" she hummed. 

Spencer pouted and grumbled at Emily's emphasis of the word, immediately collapsing into his seat and covering his increasingly reddening face. He jolted as he felt Emily place her hands on his shoulders, gently but firmly keeping him in his chair with no hope of being able to move.

"Prentiss, I feel you need to be entirely filled in on all of this information." said Morgan. "Want some tips and tricks that we've discovered over the years?"

Spencer let out a small yelp as Emily's palms turned into pressing fingers, finding every little sensitive spot around the top of his neck and shoulders as he attempted to curl in on himself to block her hands. 

"But of course, I want to know every single ticklish spot he has to I can tickle him dead!" She grinned evilly as she continued to pinch, prod and poke his neck and shoulders, laughing to herself at how much he was curling up and attempting to swat her hands away while simultaneously keeping his arms pinned down.

"Aww look at him, he's so red he might explode." Morgan taunted with a grin. "I'll start off with a more.. tame one, let's say." His smile only grew as Spencer's eyes widened in fear, not knowing what Morgan was going to reveal about him. 

"Get him right between the ribs, it always makes him freak!"

Emily smirked with a malicious glint in her eye. "Sir yes sir." 

Perhaps a little too slowly, she wormed her hands lower down Spencer's torso. Unfortunately, she then became close enough that he could grab her hands and pull her away while squealing in terror. Now, they may have been evenly matched in strength, but the angle put her at a disadvantage to where she simply couldn't make contact with him. 

"Ha, gotcha!" He shouted proudly, but was quickly cut off by another squeal as Morgan drove his hands into Reid's midriff, scribbling and pinching all over and sending him into uncontrollable laughter and wriggling. 

"Switch!" Emily called to Morgan and, in a movement so fast that Reid couldn't stop it, Morgan was behind him holding his arms up and Emily was jamming her fingers between his ribs, sending him into absolute, blind hysteria.

"And you said this was TAME?" questioned Emily, her own laughs leaving her mouth as she took in the comical sight of Spencer's reactions. 

"Oh believe me, it gets so much worse!" chimed in JJ, scurrying over to join in the fun. "Well, worse for Spence, anyway. Far more entertaining for the rest of us, watch this!"

Before Spencer had a chance to think, let alone react, JJ snaked her hands under both of his armpits in one swift motion. Morgan tightened his grip around Spencer's wrists as his squealing and wriggling increased from the change in tickle spot. He tried with all his might to pull his arms down and defend himself but was entirely futile against Morgan's iron grip, especially since he was struggling to gain any control over his muscles in the first place. All he could feel was rippling tickling overwhelming every nerve in his body, every cell of his being was submitted to the merciless attack from his friends. All he could do was laugh, not a single thought formed in his mind beyond how amazing it all felt, to receive such affection from the most important people in his life entirely of their own accord. 

"Ahh! Guys! AH!" He cried and laughed, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes from pure joy.

"What's wrong Spence? Does it tickleee?" Emily teased in a sing song voice. His face, already beet red, appeared to flush even brighter in embarrassment. As her hands wriggled like the legs of a frantic spider all across his body, she noticed his entire body jerk abruptly when her fingers ghosted his stomach.

"EMILY!" Shouted Spencer in a moment of sheer panic. 

"Ohh I think I've found something, do you want me to tickle you there?" She asked with her ever widening shit eating grin, only to be met with him violently avoiding her eyes and squealing incessantly.

"Shut up shut up shut up!" He shouted between bouts of hysteria.

"That means 'Yes Emily! I want you to tickle me right on my stomach!'" JJ called out in a silly voice pretending to be Spencer. 

"SHUT UUUUP!!" He bellowed, trying even harder to wriggle free of Morgan's hold.

"Go on Reid! Tell me that it tickles!" Emily jeered playfully, ghosting her fingers over his stomach again and again but not committing to tickling him properly. Once again, he became a squealing, screeching, laughing mess, trying his utmost to escape and avoid looking at her.

"Uh uh pretty boy! I'm not lettin' go till you tell her!" Morgan grinned down at him.

"Oh that's evil." JJ laughed as she continued to prod and pinch at his neck and underarms.

"Does it tickle Spence? I want to know!" Emily hounded playfully as she continued her antics.

Spencer's mind was a complete mess of embarrassment, overwhelming sensations and pure joy. Obviously it tickled but there was absolutely no way he would say that out loud! He just couldn't! However, every time Emily's fingers brushed his stomach and gave him the slightest hint of the utter bliss he would be in if she finally committed, he grew closer and closer to saying the god forbidden words until they were right on the tip of his tongue.

"I just want to know pretty boy, is it tickly? Does it tickle when I do this?" she taunted as he wriggled her fingers between his ribs and prodded at his waist. Finally, he snapped, with the widest smile anyone had seen on his beautifully overjoyed face.

"Yes! It tickles! Ah! It tickles so much!" He shouted out, and as soon as he did, Emily's hands dove right into his stomach, scribbling, wiggling and tickling every inch of skin she could reach. His howling laughter brought wide smiles to every single face in the room, every little shriek, every hiccup and every squeal was a melody of trust and friendship between them all. Morgan, still holding Spencer's arms, was laughing as he watched the chaos ensue against his helpless captive. JJ, who was tickling every area that Emily was neglecting, has a smile as wide as his own as her own giggles merged with his. And Emily, who was clearly having the time of her life as she ceaselessly barraged him with her tickle attack, was teasing, taunting and laughing jus the same. 

"What's going on out here?" Came the low, gravelly voice of their unit chief as he left his office. 

In an instant, they all let go of the wrecked man stuck to his chair and faced Hotch like school children being caught misbehaving. The moment of silence didn't last long before a small whine sounded from the beet red brunet. 

"Later Reid, I need you all in the conference room. You can kill him later." Hotch smiled before ushering everyone to the conference room, much to Spencer's dismay.

[guppygiggles]

I pray that 2025 is your most ticklish year yet Reid~

I pray on your downfall. 💙😏

[hotwritergf]

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. 🌤️

"You know, when we first met, I never figured you for this much of a cuddler." You murmured into his hair, the scent of his coconut hair products filling your nostrils and you sigh in the smell of home. Spencer was the embodiment of home for you. Be it the coffee cup that was practically super-glued into his hand, the bookshelf full of fantasy novels that he'd read to you in the early days of your relationship or the way his fingers fit over your curves and slot in place like puzzle pieces. He made you feel right, he made you feel at home.

"I'm typically not. But you're so warm, and soft." Spencer whispers, nestling his face further into your sternum. "And when I lay here, like this, I can see your freckles." He chuckles, tracing his index finger over the melanin constellations that are scattered across your nose and cheeks. "Plus your eyes are so pretty up close." He adds, rubbing his thumb lovingly over your cheek. You take a deep breath and smile as you exhale; a smile pinning the corners of your lips up.

"You don't have to say that, you know?" You whisper into his ear, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention. Spencer frowns; a look of disappointment flooding over him as you make your insecurities known discreetly. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes." Spencer mimics taking his eyes out of his head and locking them in place on your face. Playfully making sound effects as he acts. "But don't you worry little-lady. I can love you enough for the both of us. I'd do anything to wake up to that face every day. Even if you do snore and dribble onto the pillow." He lets out a squeaky giggle, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip as if he was mopping up saliva. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Spencer Reid? My very own genius." You offer him a smile in return, your acrylic nails trailing up his wrist softly as he giggles under the much-too-light, ticklish touch; pulling his arm away from the sensations.

Spence wriggles in his seat; sitting up against the headboard, frantically tapping the bedside table to find his glasses. Once he does, he tips them onto his nose, his pupils dilate under the sight of you as his eyes meet yours with an eye-wide grin. "We're gonna be late. Gotta get up now sweetheart." He speaks in-between yawns, stretching his arms in the air and clicking his head from left to right. You groan, still a victim of the sandman. Climbing over his lap and slotting yourself over his legs, you glance up at him. Leaning your face only millimeters from his, admiring all of his features. His slight wrinkles by his eyes that you can only see when he's laughing harder than usual, his dimples that make each smile so much more personal. You wish you could climb right into that dimple crevice and live there forever under the heat of his smile. Resting your foreheads together, your eyelashes flutter on tops of his cheeks, giving him a delicate butterfly kiss. His lips smooth and delicate as they push into your own, each open mouth embrace ricocheting against your body both physically and mentally. Kissing Spencer feels like your being is traveling to a higher place, like you're evolving into another being; dancing in front the gates of heaven.

You tap on his shoulders; lifting your weight from his thighs. "No rest for the wicked." You smirk as he whines at the loss of your touch, rolling his eyes. Spencer stands at the side of the bed, offering his hand to help you up and draping his dressing gown over you. He leans over, his height still dominating you before he plants a peck on the tip of your nose. You're not sure what sunshine feels like in a person, but the human humidity that washes over you when Spencer touches you is as close to sunlight as you have ever known.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

take care of you | spencer reid x reader

Sometimes, Spencer needs you to take care of him.

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: submissive!spencer, s2/glasses spencer, pegging, face sitting, face riding, cunnilingus (fem!reader)

a/n: couldn't stop thinking about spencer in glasses getting absolutely wrecked. i love him so much!!!! (you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You can tell how much Spencer needs this. He’s been stressed out from work – sure, his job is always kind of stressful, but he looks so exhausted that you feel it in your bones.

Spencer’s never been good at asking for help, either. But the sluggish way he’s been moving around lately, his eyebags somehow even darker than usual, even Penelope texting you after a rough case to take care of Spencer: they all tell you that Spencer needs you more than ever.

“Hi, my love,” you greet from the couch when he opens the door. 

Spencer jumps slightly, perhaps not expecting you to be home when he’d gotten to the apartment. He relaxes quickly enough, his tight-set features easing up as he sees you. He smiles, kicking off his shoes, and is quick to let you wrap your arms around him. He melts into your grasp. 

“Hey,” Spencer says in a soft voice, but he hugs you so tight you feel a little breathless. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, love,” you hum into his neck, nose ticklish from how his hair is growing out, curling beautifully at the nape of his neck. “Rough day?”

“That’s an understatement,” Spencer sighs. “God, I needed this.”

While you’ve been dating for more than a year, Spencer being happy to touch you always makes you feel proud – it reminds you that you’re special to Spencer, that Spencer trusts you. 

“I know, sweetheart,” you say softly, your hand petting his soft hair. “Do you want– Do you need me to take care of you tonight? To shut your brain off for a little bit?”

Spencer’s sharp intake of breath is loud in the otherwise silent apartment. He pulls away, wet, brown eyes looking into yours. “You– Really? How did you–”

“I guessed you needed it,” you say, reaching to hold his hands in yours. “Do you need that?”

“Yes, please.” Spencer’s voice is practically a whisper. 

“Come on, love,” you smile, tugging him into the bedroom.

You take care of him like this: taking off his tie, undoing the buttons of his shirt, kissing him as you undo his belt and push his slacks off. Spencer is laid on the bed for you, only in his underwear, laid out bare for you.

Spencer looks so cute wearing his glasses, and you tell him that when he moves to take them off. He blinks at you. “Do you want me to keep them on?”

“Yeah,” you say, grinning. “Makes you look extra fuckable.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, smiling, but Spencer’s mouth falls open in a gasp as your hand reaches for his cock, touching him through his briefs. His cock jumps at your touch. 

You sigh contentedly. “You’re so pretty like this, Spence.”

He whimpers, lower lip pulled between his teeth. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I just want to take care of you, love.” You hum, meeting Spencer’s eyes as you slip your hand down the waistband of his underwear, wrapping your hand around him. 

“Oh–” He moans at the contact, hips instinctively bucking up into your touch. “Mmm, please.”

“Want me to fuck you, baby?” 

Spencer nods, but you can tell he’s still on edge, attempting to give up control. He’s never been too good at that.

You lean forward to kiss him. He moans, kissing you back quickly enough, desperate and hungry. He needs you, wants you, and the attention makes you preen.

You’ve pushed Spencer’s underwear down by now, unabashedly stroking his fully-hard cock. He’s leaking all over your hand now, so the slide of your hand on him is easy. His moans against your lips turn you on to no end, getting him off while he’s like this almost feels like your duty. 

“Come on, baby,” you murmur as you pull away. You’re met with a whine from Spencer, like he’s too far gone to realise you plan to give him more, instead of just taking his pleasure away from him. 

This is good. His colleagues have always joked that Spencer’s IQ drops when he’s around a pretty girl. Maybe you’ll be able to stop his overthinking mind tonight.

“Oh, don’t pout, darling,” you coo, finding it amusing how Spencer is basically throwing a fit over how you’ve stopped kissing him, stopped touching him. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

Spencer’s face is red in an instant, like he’s shocked at the sudden brazenness of it all. He pulls his lips into a thin line, sheepish, but he nods. You smile and say, “Then let me get ready for you, darling.”

He finally lets you go, but his eyes are wide and wet as he looks up at you, as you stare down at him. He looks like he wants to ask you something, but can’t find the words. “Tell me what you want, Spence.”

“I want– Can I touch myself? While– While you get ready?” He’s tripping over his words, and you feel like screaming into your hands just because he’s so cute. 

“Yes, darling. Don’t make yourself cum just yet, though,” you hum. “Wanna see you cumming on my cock.”

Spencer lets out a whimper, nodding as he wraps his hand around himself in an instant. He’s desperate, needy, and you feel so crazy about him that you feel the adrenaline in your veins as you get your harness out. Your hands shake as you attach your pink, sparkly dildo to your harness, as you take your clothes off (Spencer stares at you, making you feel so desired), strapping your harness on tight. 

In your bra with a dildo strapped to yourself, you sit between Spencer’s legs, spreading for you as he lays back on the bed you share. Lube is squeezed into your fingers, you warm it up between your thumb and index. You notice the way Spencer isn’t fully out of it yet, not in the way you want him to be.

So, leaning forward, you take Spencer’s cock between your lips, enveloping him in wet heat inch by inch. You watch his face morph with pleasure, perfectly ruined by your mouth. He always gets like this when your mouth is on him, loses his mind a little, loses the words to verbalise his pleasure. (And he always has the words.)

Spencer lets out an open-mouthed gasp, delicate and needy. His large hand comes up to his face, pushing his glasses up like he needs to get a better look at you. Spencer is desperate, eager, hips stuttering up into your mouth. You push his hips down with a firm hand. He moans.

You take the lead as you suck him off, acting more of a distraction as you rub your fingers over his hole, slick with lube as you get him to ease up. Spencer’s always been stubborn, but when you have him like this, he gives in rather easily. 

“Fuck, please, please,” Spencer’s begging now, and you’re so turned on you feel your head spin, your heart pounding in your chest. You slip a finger in, giving Spencer the pleasure he needs, and he moans so sweetly you feel like you need to fuck him right now. 

Now that he’s a little less on edge, you pull off of him, focusing on fingering Spencer. You work him open rather meticulously, coaxing him open slowly. When Spencer’s in a headspace like this he gets needy and a little helpless, letting you take the lead (and not helping much). He whimpers and gasps as you fuck one finger into him, then two, hitting that sweet spot inside of him as you get him to relax. His cock twitches with every stroke of your fingers, leaking pathetically all over his soft stomach.

“Feels good, darling?” you hum.

Spencer moans. “Yes, so good. I– So good.”

“So pretty for me, Spence,” you sigh, smiling up at him. You slip a third finger into him and he cries out so pathetically you feel like you’re losing your mind. “You sound so pretty too.”

“Fuck,” Spencer gasps, as your fingers work inside of him. His face is pushed into the pillow underneath him, his glasses sitting awkwardly from the angle. He’s wiggling his toes, writhing, and you can tell that he wants more. He tries to say something else, but it comes out garbled. 

You pull your fingers out, and when Spencer whines from the loss, you coo, “Okay– Okay, darling. I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

You press a kiss to the soft skin of his inner thigh, and when you look up at Spencer, he smiles so wide. You want to kiss him. You pucker your lips at him obnoxiously, and he giggles. 

Getting on your knees between his legs, you slick up your strap with more lube. Spencer is sickeningly adorable as he watches you stroke the dildo, a perversion of the way it usually goes. Spencer looks enthralled, as if you stroking yourself is doing something for him, even if it doesn’t do anything for you. You smirk at him, and his cheeks flush.

You wrap your hand around Spencer’s cock and stroke his cock with whatever’s left on your hand. The extra slick slide aided by the lube makes Spencer jolt and buck his hips, your hand feeling particularly amazing on him. 

“Come on, baby,” you coo, as you press the blunt head of your strap to Spencer’s hole. “You’re gonna take me in so well, aren’t you, Spence?”

Spencer is all gangly limbs, but he’s so desperate that he feels so small underneath you. His cock is leaking, and his flush has moved from his face all the way down to his chest, which rises and falls as he breathes hard. His gorgeous, lovely eyes don’t leave your frame. No matter what, he looks at you like you hung the stars.

“I will,” Spencer says softly, adoration in his tone. He’s holding his breath, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he looks up at you. You smile at him, before you press your strap into him. His mouth falls open and his eyes flutter shut, gasping as he feels you inside of him.

You press into him so slow, taking your time, your head spinning with how pretty Spencer looks under you. While you always enjoy the sight of Spencer on top of you, he’s gorgeous like this too. Spencer’s always a little timid, submissive for sure. You find it cute. Sometimes, taking care of him like this just makes sense.

You watch as Spencer swallows you up greedily, the length of your strap disappearing inside of him. He shudders as you press your hand down on his lower abdomen, the softness of his stomach grounding you as you start to piston your hips. “Is that good, darling? Feels good?”

He nods hastily with a whimper. The bottoms of his glasses have fogged up, with the gentle sheen of sweat on Spencer’s skin and how warm his face must be by now. He’s sinfully innocent, and you resist the urge to bite him. 

Instead, you wrap your hand around his cock. He moans loudly, eagerly. You curse, your own arousal heightening even with the lack of physical touch. You keep thrusting into him, getting off on the way Spencer squirms and whines. “You sound so pretty like this, Spence.”

“Please,” Spencer groans, his voice coming out whiny and broken. “I’m so close, I wanna–”

“Already?” You feign your disappointment, even though you can’t blame Spencer for being needy in the slightest, especially since you’ve made it so easy for him to let himself go tonight. “I’ve barely had my fun with you, baby.”

He gasps, hurried and desperate: “I– I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

To be fair, you weren’t planning on denying Spencer of an orgasm, but you’re more than happy to take Spencer up on that offer.

You grin. “Cum for me then, Spence.”

You watch his features scrunch up with pleasure as his orgasm hits him, his load splattering all over his stomach, dribbling down your knuckles as you stroke him through it. It’s adorable, the way his hips stutter, the way his mouth falls open in little, incoherent gasps as he orgasms.

You feel like you could admire him like this forever, the softness of his frame and features, the gentleness as he catches his breath. He’s gorgeous, and you can’t take your eyes off of him. Spencer smiles once he catches your eye, sheepish at your intense gaze and the attention you’ve given him. 

Sitting up, Spencer’s hands reach for your waist, fumbling to undo your harness. It’s adorable, and you rest your hand on his to get his attention. He looks up at you, hair messy, eyes wide. You kiss him softly, slowly, Spencer reaching up to cup your cheek as he kisses you back sweetly. 

You feel the harness loosening around your hips on the left side of your body, and it makes you pull away with a grin. “Multitasking, I see.”

“I want to make it up to you, my love,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. “I’m just in a hurry to get to it.”

You laugh, kissing the corner of his grin once more before you let him get back to undoing your harness. You take your panties off, tossed aside to be dealt with later, and Spencer dips his fingers between your legs. You feel his long digits swipe at the wetness that’s gathered there already. “You’re so perfect.”

“How do you want me, darling?” you hum, moaning softly as his fingers start to rub at your clit. 

“Like this.” Spencer lays back, pulling you forward by your thighs, until your body is hovering over his neck, just enough where you can meet Spencer’s eyes. 

“Oh,” you say. “You- You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. I want you to sit on my face,” Spencer says simply, and you feel like melting. Sure, you’ve been together a long time, but you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious, being close to Spencer like this. Will you be too heavy? What if you suffocate him, or worse, crush his neck? He can clearly tell you’re overthinking it, because he adds, “Come on. Please?”

“This is one hell of a way of making it up to me,” you laugh. 

Spencer’s completely serious about it, though, as he furrows his brows. “I mean it. You’re not going to hurt me. It’s statistically improbable that you’d break my neck or something. You’ll feel good, and I will too. I’ll be careful if you’re worried.”

“Okay,” you say softly, feeling slightly more comforted by Spencer’s words. He presses a kiss to your thigh, smiling up at you.

Spencer pulls you closer, urging you to sit down. You don’t put your full weight down on him at first, but the way he pulls you down onto him startles you, so you can’t even attempt to control how hard you sit on his face. He moans when you’re seated, as you feel his lips between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit. His glasses are askew on his face but it’s too late for Spencer to take them off, and it doesn’t look like he cares to, either.

Spencer’s a god at giving head – Lord knows where he learned that from – but it’s even better when he’s needy. The best orgasms you’ve had were after Spencer was particularly worked up, extra needy over you, and dove between your legs like his life depended on it.

Today is somehow even better.

Maybe he’s made pliant by the way you fucked him earlier, but it feels so right, the way Spencer coaxes your hips forward. With his glasses digging into your thighs and his arms hooked around your legs, Spencer pulls you towards him, letting you ride his face to get you off. It’s like he needs to make you cum, like he can’t carry on if he didn’t.

There’s an added desperation you feel, deep-seated in your bones, wanting Spencer to pleasure you like you did with him. It’s never been transactional with Spencer, both of you naturally wanting to please – but Spencer is so sweet and kind with you, and you’re turned on to no end because of him. 

You feel his tongue lap at you, over your leaking hole, over your swollen clit. You feel so loved, so taken care of, just like you took care of Spencer. You only see the rims of his glasses, his brows furrowed and his eyes presumably squeezed shut as he eats you out, but God, you adore him. 

“Please, Spence,” you moan. You feel like you can’t explain it, but you ramble, “Feels so good, you’re– You’re so good for me, baby.”

He moans, pulling you closer to him like he can’t get enough of you. You’re afraid he won’t be able to breathe, but he’s doing just fine burying his head between your legs, giving you everything you need. He pleasures you like he needs it too. 

Everything is just right, his eagerness to make you orgasm, coupled with the way your head is spinning from his lovely submissiveness from earlier. Spencer is perfect, and you think you should do this more often.

You rock your hips forward, letting his hands guide you through the motions. He’s got a one-track mind, only focused on your pleasure, and you’re shaking with your orgasm before you even know it. You cry out as your orgasm wracks through your whole body, your thighs clamping down on Spencer’s face. His own moans are muffled between your legs, which push you further over the edge. You ride out your orgasm just like that, with Spencer whimpering as you use him. 

You put Spencer out of his misery when your hips slow to a stop, pulling back as you roll onto the mattress next to him. He looks like he’s in bliss, like he could’ve died happy between your legs. He turns to look at you, the lower half of his face wet with slick, his glasses sitting skewed on his nose. He swoons, “You’re the love of my life.”

You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “I know, darling.”

You lean over to rest your head on him contentedly. Unfortunately, despite how satisfied (and admittedly tired) you are from tonight, Spencer seems to have other ideas.

“You’re hard again,” you note, eyebrow raised curiously.

Spencer smiles sheepishly. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Let me take care of you, then.” With your hand skirting down his stomach, you press your lips to his, with his sticky chin and all.

“Happily,” Spencer grins.