#spencer reid x f! reader
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Olive Green Couch | Spencer Reid
description: when your best friend drags you to a party to meet a boy she's been fawning over, you find yourself completely bored and unimpressed- good thing you've stumbled upon a strikingly handsome (yet awkward) young graduate student named Spencer who seems equally as unhappy to be there to share your misery with.
pairing: grad school! spencer reid x f! reader
content: uhh mostly fluff, drinking, reader is described as wearing a mini skirt and wearing high heels.
word count: 4,242
If I have to hear one more Weezer song I'm going to be sick. You think as the slow drums of Undone pour out over an all too expensive speaker system for a frat house.
The MIT frats were nothing like you experienced before, they were- for lack of a better term- a complete and utter sausage party. You can't remember the last time you'd seen this many men in a single room. If you weren't so bored maybe you would appreciate this as a reprieve from the usual maintaining "ratio" of the state school frat parties you'd been to. But even now you'd prefer that if it meant you wouldn't have to deal with another sloppily drunk man explaining the plot of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy to you. Rich, pretentious, too smart for his own good MIT frat guy or dude-bro, alpha male, business major state school frat guy- it didn't matter; they were the same side of the same misogynistic coin.
You look down at the shot-glass sized solo cup in your hand, staring at the clear liquid inside. Maybe just one more shot and you'd finally start to enjoy the state you were in. You hoped maybe six shots would be the perfect number of drunk to enjoy yourself. You screw your eyes shut and throw back your head as you lift the cup to your mouth. The cheap vodka burns the second it touches your tongue, and you wince as you feel it travel down your throat and to your stomach. Your body shivers involuntarily as the warmth in your belly grows.
You face forward again, looking across the living room for your best friend- the one who dragged you here in the first place. You had suggested bar hopping or trying to get into a club, you didn't buy her a fake ID for no reason. But she insisted on coming here instead. Here- to this sweaty house filled with... well... dorks. She came here looking for some guy- Michael... Matthew... Miles.... shit, you couldn't remember. It didn't matter, you were here now, and she had ditched you to fend for yourself.
You take a step forward and all the alcohol you had drank prior seems to hit you a once, "Woah" You can't help but say out-loud as you catch your balance and wait for the room to stop spinning.
You take a few more wobbly steps forward before acclimating to your new, tipsy state. You make your way through the dimly lit house, trying to find your friend amongst the crowd and rowdy conversations. Observing the bodies that populated the house you suddenly felt insecure, and insanely overdressed- why was everyone wearing jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe a mini skirt was the wrong choice for tonight.
You make your way to a back room of the house, occupied by maybe only 10 people by your inebriated brain's estimate. There's an ugly looking olive green couch in the middle of the room- it' had obviously been through a lot but and you hated to imagine what had happened on that couch over the years, but right now it looked like the most comfortable thing in the world. You walk over and plop yourself over onto the couch, the cushions having a lot less give than you expected.
The beginning riff of Someday by The Strokes plays just outside of the room, and you groan- turning to the guy who you had just realized was sitting next to you.
"Do you know who's Dj-ing this fucking thing- can you tell them to play some Britney or something?" The words fall off your tongue, sloppily.
The boy sitting next to you turns to look at you, a confused look drawn upon his face, "Huh- me?"
Shit. He's kind of cute- In a dorky sort of way. His brown hair is perfectly unkempt, and small curls form at the back of his neck. His jawline is sharp, and his hollow cheeks accentuate his prominent cheek bones. His eyes are dark, and he looks a like he hasn't slept in years- you figured with the workload MIT students probably have- it would make sense if he actually hadn't slept since getting there. Truth be told, all things combined he looked a little sickly- he was obviously lanky maybe scrawny was a better word- his button up shirt seemed a little ill-fitted for his body, and his tie poorly tied. Still- you couldn't help but notice he was hot. The first hot guy you'd seen all night.
"Yes, you, pretty boy." You smirk.
His face reads as even more confused upon your clarification.
"Oh um," He looks down at the half-drunken beer that sits between his legs, shakes his head before looking back up at you, "I-uh I don't know the DJ, and I- um, also don't know who Britney is." He responds, a small nervous tremble in his voice.
"Spears?" You let out a small laugh, "You know like- Hit Me Baby One More Time." You half sing.
"Oh-" He looks off to the side, "No" he faces you again.
"Go figure," You scoff, still, keeping a smile on your face. "Say- are you in this frat?"
He shakes his head, "Oh- no, I'm a grad student."
"A grad student?" You respond, your eyes widen in shock no shot the man you were looking at right now was any older than you. "How old are you?"
"21" He responds, almost nonchalantly- like it wasn't some insane feat. "Well," He clarifies, "I'm actually in my third graduate program, I already have a PhD in mathematics and chemistry, from Cal Tech. I'm working on my engineering one now."
"Jesus," You smile, "So what, you're like some sort of genius, huh?"
"Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified- but I do have an IQ of 187, and an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words per-minute."
You stare at him in awe for a moment, "So, a you are a genius?"
He gives you a small smile in response, "Yeah- I guess." He nods.
You're suddenly intrigued, only twenty-one years old and already a doctor twice over.
"So what brings you here Doctor...uh..."
"Reid," He nods and presses his lips into a line. "Oh! But, don't call me doctor you can call me Spencer."
"Well then, what brings you here, Spencer?" You correct yourself with a smile.
"My friend- uh he wanted me to come with him, he's meeting some girl here and he didn't want to go alone. I kind of got dragged along."
"Well," You grin, "It must be fate that we're here together on this ugly green couch, because if you could believe it- I'm here for the exact same reason except my friend- she's uh, meeting a guy here."
Spencer takes a small sip of the beer he had been holding, wincing as the liquid touched his lips. You figured he probably wasn't much of a drinker, he probably had things much more important on his plate than getting drunk and partying.
"Not much of a partier?" You ask to confirm your suspicions.
"Mhh," Spencer hums, mouth still full of beer, he shuts his eyes tight as he swallows thickly. "No." He shakes his head violently. "What gave it away?"
"Oh!" You bite your lip... "Nothing!" You say, innocently, voice steeped in sarcasm.
"It's okay," He laughs, "I know I look like a dork."
His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but smile in response. And Damn- he's really cute.
"Oh! Don't say that," You swat your hand at him, "I'm sure you get tons of ladies."
Spencer tilts his head to one side, in obvious disbelief of what you just said,
"I don't really appreciate the sarcasm," He says, his eyes narrowing at you.
"Sarcasm?" You pout, "No- I mean it Spencer, what you're like a genius. And I mean- you're not bad to look at," You bite your lip, "Not at all."
Spencer shook his head, "I was a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school, and until now, I've always been way younger than everyone in college- my experience with girls is practically in the negatives."
"Oooh!" You smirk, "Vegas," You raise an eyebrow.
"Mhm," He takes another sip of his beer, his face more relaxed this time.
"You think I'd make a good showgirl?" You wink
"Oh- um," Spencer is suddenly blinking rapidly as his head scans you up and down. You can't help but feel a little bad at the way you have him flustered,
"I'm kidding! You don't have to answer that." You reassure. "Negative experience with girls, hm?"
"Yeah- I-uh, I haven't even had my first kiss yet." He says, looking down at his lap, refusing to make eye contact with you.
"No?" You say, still shocked, even given his prior explanations of his experiences with women, "Well..." You start, pausing for a moment, "If you ever want that to change let me know." Maybe that last part was meant to be a joke, but truth is you kind of really hoped he said yes, right there, right now.
"What?" He looks back up at you, eyebrows furrowed, "No- I don't need a pity kiss. I don't even know who you are."
"It is not a pity kiss, and I'm y/n, I go to UMASS, the Boston campus- like 15 minutes away. I'm 20, and uhhh... Well, the rest you can find out later." You wink, "Now you know me!" You smile, perking up from your spot on the couch.
"Well- uh. Nice to meet you y/n" He gives you an awkward tight lipped smile. "Are you- um- enjoying your night."
"God no," You scoff. "Does that make two of us?"
Spencer nods, side moving his eyes to look around the room. It had gotten significantly more crowded since you'd came in here, you hadn't noticed, you'd been too focused on getting to know Spencer that you kind of forgot you were at a party to begin with. It didn't seem to matter now anyway, you were intrigued beyond belief and wanted to know more about Dr. Reid.
"So, why'd you leave Caltech? The weather is certainly a lot nicer than it is here," Your body physically recoils at the thought of having to go back outside to the brisk New England fall after the party was over.
Spencer shrugged, "You can only get so many degrees at one place before you need a change of scenery. I've been at CalTech since I was like- fourteen."
"Fourteen?" Your eyes widen, thinking about what you were like at fourteen. You certainly weren't CalTech material, that's for sure. "When did you graduate high school?"
"1993," He smiles and nods, "Twelve years old"
Spencer had a charming humility about him, he was the smartest person you'd ever met but he spoke in a way that made it feel like it was every day that someone could graduate high school at 12 and have two PhDs by 21.
"What do you plan on doing after college with that pretty head of yours?" You ask, your slightly intoxicated brain unable to stop you from instinctively reaching out and fluffing his hair. Spencer's eyes flick up towards your hand and he gives you an awkward smile paired with a small laugh.
"Well- I uhh... I've been in contact with this guy- well from the FBI, the BAU... Behavioral Analysis Unit. We came into contact after my second dissertation, he was shocked at how young I was, having done so much- he suggested I come to the academy when I was done with this one." Spencer explained, he talked in a way that made him seem unsure of himself, like he, himself didn't fully understand how it happened.
"God," You muse, "The fucking FBI? Could you get any cooler?"
"You know," Spencer remarks, "I think that's the first time anyone has ever used to word "cool" to describe me." The tone in his voice is light, it's clear he's happy about that fact, but you can't help but feel your heart break at the statement.
"Cool even sounds like a little bit of an understatement to me. But you know... I think I'm a little too intoxicated right now to think of a synonym, so cool it is!"
"Do you have any plans for after college?" Spencer asks, nervously running a finger around the rim of the glass in his lap.
"Nothing as cool as the FBI," You shrug, "Actually, nothing concrete, really. Has me feeling a little inadequate in a room full of geniuses."
"Oh trust me," Spencer scans his head around the room, "Not all of these guys are geniuses."
"Well- they're complete nerds at the very least." You giggle.
"I think I qualify as a nerd too." Spencer smiles back.
"Oh you definitely do," You say, scooting closer to him, taking the beer glass out of his hand, "But you haven't tried to talk down to me about some movie everyone's seen, or some album everyone's heard like I'm some dumb idiot bimbo yet." You huff, finishing what was left of the liquid in the glass with a single gulp. You slam the cup down on the coffee table in front of you, "And even if I was a dumb idiot bimbo- what makes them think I'd care about whatever they'd have to say about OK Computer. We've all listened to Karma Police, big deal!" You realize you're getting a little heated over this and cut yourself off, "Anyways," You smile, "What I mean is you don't seem like some self important loser."
"Oh," Spencer furrows his eyebrows, "Thank...you?"
"Do you want to get out of here?"
"Y-Yeah, Yeah we can go." Spencer nods.
You stand up from the couch, wobbling a little bit as your legs lift you up. The room, is blurry, for a moment all you can see are vague blobs of color instead of people. You shut your eyes tight, blinking them open to fix your blurry vision. You glance over toward Spencer, who's grabbing a tan suit jacket that had been draped over the back of the couch. He slinks the jacket on over his thin frame.
"You alright?" He asks, concern in his eyes. He must have been able to read the drunk all over your face.
"Y-Yeah I'm fine, lets go," You nod, reassuringly. You could handle your liquor, besides you hadn't drank that much tonight.
The two of you head for the door, wherever it is. Spencer was leading the way, and you hoped he had a better sense of direction than you did. The music is suddenly a lot louder as you exit the room you were in, and you suddenly feel a lot drunker. The sudden change in feeling causes you to stumble a little, bumping Spencer in the back. High heels and alcohol were never a good mix.
"Oh- hey," Spencer stops suddenly, turning around to smile at you, "Are you sure you're alright?"
You look around the room, at the hoard of people, the room thick with a combination of weed and cigarette smoke. You've never felt so lost in your life when did it get so crowded in here? The obnoxious yelling of frat guys mixed with the music turned to a volume you were sure would get the cops to show up is absolutely ear-splitting.
"Can you hold my hand?" You ask Spencer, needing his guidance more than you realized.
"Uh, yeah, yeah." He nods. You reach your hand out for Spencer to grab, and it takes him a few times to correctly slot his fingers between yours. You smile a little, watching him try to figure out the perfect hand-holding position. He couldn't be more pathetic if he tried- it was kind of adorable.
Spencer's hand is warm, a little sweaty against your palm. But his grip is tight and reassuring as the two of you walk the rest of the way out of the house.
As soon as the front door opens a brisk wind hits you, nipping at your exposed flesh. Goosebumps already dot up and down your skin, the only warmth you feel is Spencer's hand wrapped around yours, and you knew that warm sensation would end as soon as his hand got cold too.
With a little hesitance, you step outside to brave the cold. Your heels click as you carefully make your way down the concrete steps in front of the house. You stare down at your feat as you make each movement, fearing accidentally rolling your ankle or falling. You'd probably take end up Spencer down with you.
"Hmm," Spencer hums, noticing your trepidation, "Here," Spencer untwines his hand from yours and places an arm around your back, reaching to your other side, but barely touches your other arm, just holds firm enough for you not to fall.
You reach the bottom of the stairs, thankful for Spencer's help,
"You don't have to hold me so far away you know, you can pull me a little closer." You turn your head to look at him, "I mean it is kind of chilly out."
"Oh-uh," Spencer's arm pulls to hold you just a little bit closer, "Better?" His grip is still pretty weak around you, and you sigh.
"You know, Spence, I'm still pretty cold." You frown, staring down the suit jacket he was wearing.
"Do you want to go back inside? I didn't even have a full beer the entire time I was there- I can go get my car real quick and drive you home if you want. It's only a block or so away." Spencer responds, his voice quick, and nervous- it was obvious he was eager to solve the problem of you being so cold.
"No," You laugh, shaking your head, "I'm cold is kind of girl-code for, you should give me your jacket."
"Oh!" Spencer laughs, "Oh- I'm sorry, yeah- here, here have it." Spencer speaks earnestly as he slips the jacket off of his shoulders. He shivers as the loss of the fabric leaves him in only a thin button up and you can't help but feel a little bad for asking him to give it to you. But he hands you the jacket with a smile on his face, which lingers even after you put it on. It provides a marginal amount more of warmth than what you felt prior.
"Better?" Spencer asks.
"Mhm," You nod, "Thank you."
Spencer only gives you a tight lipped smile and a nod in response.
"So," Spencer starts as the two of you begin walking, his hand slipping into yours almost instinctually, it catches you a little off guard, and you feel your cheeks run hot at the gesture. "Where are you headed?"
"Oh- uh, back to Boston I guess," You squint your eyes, thinking, "I usually take the bus, the stop is up that way." You point up ahead in front of you.
"Let me go with you," Spencer says quickly, "I mean- not to your place, but let me ride the bus with you, I don't want you going by yourself."
"Why not? I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." You retort, trying to hide the fact that secretly, butterflies are growing in your stomach at his eagerness to take care of you.
"I just want to make sure you get home okay." His hand grips yours tighter.
"Okay," A small smile draws at your lips, you don't want to fight him on it anymore, truth was you'd love nothing more than to spend a little bit more time with him, even if it was a short bus ride.
The streets of the city are utterly dead, not a sound to be heard except the whistling of the wind and collision of your high heels and the pavement. You wonder what time it even is, how long had you even spent at that stupid party?
The bus is just as empty as the rest of the city. When it arrives, nobody but you and Spencer are on, the two of you sitting patiently under the bright fluorescent lights for the bus to move. The lights are straining on your eyes, and the horrendously carpet-patterned seats might hurt your eyes even worse.
"What stop do you get off at?" Spencer asks, being the one sitting the closest to the button to let the driver know when it's your stop.
"University Drive."
The lights dim as the bus driver pulls away from the stop you'd been picked up at, and you're able to relax your eyes once more. You let your eyes relax until all of a sudden they're closed and then-
"Hey," You feel your head being jerked, "We're here."
"Hmm?" You grumble, slowly opening your eyes.
Your stomach drops, and you're absolutely mortified to see your head is rested on Spencer's shoulder. You whip your head off from where it laid and quickly stand up from the seat.
The bus ride was fifteen minutes, you couldn't believe you fell asleep. Much less fell asleep on some guy you barely knew. You're a mess of worry as you exit the bus, thinking about how awkward you probably made Spencer feel. You're so caught up in your thoughts you barely notice how cold it is as you step outside.
"Hey, look, I'm right over there." You say, pointing to the large dorm building behind you.
"I'll walk you to the door." He smiles, and your panic immediately slides away.
You walk with your head down, looking intently at the sidewalk under you as you head forward to your building, trying your best to keep in a straight line. You had to admit, you were pretty upset your time with Spencer would be ending in just a few short minutes from now. You tried to scheme up a plan to get Spencer to stay longer, but no ideas would stick to your brain. You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest as you approach the front door.
You whip around to look at Spencer who's trailing just a few inches behind you.
"Well," You sigh, "I guess this is it." You pull your mouth to one side in a small pout.
"Yeah- I-uh, I guess so," He shrugs, "I had a nice time tonight, thanks for, making my first party experience a lot better than i was expecting." Spencer's hands are shoved into his pocket, and he rocks back and forth while he talks, unsure of himself as his eyes dart all around you.
"Of course," You grin, letting your hands drop down at your sides, "Say," You cut yourself off, and shove your hands into the pocket of Spencer's coat, fishing, until you find what you were hoping for. You pull out a pen from one of the coat pockets, and grab Spencer's hand. "I want to see you again before you become some big tough FBI agent." You smile, scrawling the digits of your phone number on the back of his hand. "Call me sometime?" You hold his hand up for an extra moment, before letting it drop back down.
"Mmmhm, yeah," Spencer bobs his head up and down vigorously.
"Okay, good. Goodnight Spencer," You smile, giving him a small wave.
"Goodnight y/n" He smiles back, as the two of you turn around to go your separate ways.
You notice as you turn back around that you're still wearing Spencer's jacket, part of you has the urge to call out to him to give it back, the other part of you wants to keep it- if he wants to get it back, he'll have to come see you again.
"Wait! Y/n!" You hear Spencer from just behind you. You frown a little, thinking your plan to keep Spencer's jacket had been foiled and he was calling to get it back from you.
"Yeah?" You whip your head back around.
"Did you mean it when you said to let you know if I wanted to have my first kiss- and that you'd change that I've never um-"
"Uhh..huh," You responded, a little to eager as an uncontrollable smile began to tug at the ends of your lips, "Are you asking me to kiss you Spencer?"
"Maybe," His voice breaks, unable to look you directly in the eyes.
You raise one eyebrow, "Maybe?"
"Ahem. Uh- I mean- yes."
Before you know it, you're tugging at his tie, pulling him close to you. Your lips are on his, just a peck at first, Spencer is hesitant. He is unsure of what to do with any part of his body, his lips move carefully, his hands unsure of just where they should be, they rest on your hips- before they move right under your shoulders. You make the decision to tilt your head and deepen the kiss. Spencer's lips are soft with inexperience, he has absolutely no clue what he's doing, yet you can't get enough.
The two of you pull away slowly, neither one of you wanting to give up the kiss- but you eventually have to surrender to the night and to the cold. You place one final peck on Spencer's lips.
"Now you have to call me." You giggle, unable to hide your excitement.
"Yeah-yeah," Spencer nods, eyes wide, his lips are shiny and his cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "Absolutely."
"Goodnight Spencer." You say once more, before turning around to head inside.
A/N: whew! when I tell you I spent all day writing this i mean all day! that's okay though... im obsessed with grad school! reid. anyways..... thinking about making a (potentially smutty) part two to this ;-)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x yn#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#spencer reid x f! reader
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let's play
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid
summary: sharing is caring, afterall.
warnings: once again, every single one of them. swearing, spencer whimpering, daddy hotch, derek morgan's blinding charming ass smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 4.9k
a/n: the highly requested and anticipated sequel to slumber party has arrived. once again, there is no plot, bc none of you came here for that. you don't have to read part one to understand this installment, but it is highly encouraged. please enjoy this lil valentine's treat from me to you. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
Before Hotch or Derek even had a chance to step foot into Spencer’s hotel room, Spencer had kicked it shut behind himself after ushering you inside. The two men exchanged looks of confusion, glancing between each other and the closed door in front of them. Derek held his bag by the handles over his shoulder in one hand, and when he went to twist the knob on the door, it was locked. He raised his fist to lightly knock against the door.
“Hey Reid-”
“Come back in an hour.”
Derek’s ebony brows instantly pinched together, and he tossed Hotch an incredulous look over his shoulder.
“What’d he just say?”
Hotch’s permanent scowl abruptly returned to his sharp features as he stepped forward, raising his fist to pound harshly against the door.
“Reid, open this door, now.”
“In an hour.”
Derek let out a scoff, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.
“What happened to sharing, pretty boy?”
“We will, in fifty-nine minutes.”
Spencer’s voice was somewhat muffled through the thickness of the door, and it sounded far away, like he was deeper inside the room. Before either of them could say another word, a loud moan suddenly sounded from inside that clearly belonged to you. Hotch clenched his jaw while Derek stepped forward with an expression of pure irritation.
“Reid, either you open this door, or I’m kicking it down so help me-”
Hotch placed his palm against Derek’s chest and gave a slight shake of his head. Without another word, Hotch reached into his pocket and produced a room key, and in one swipe, a click followed by a flashing green light signaled that the door was unlocked. Hotch twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room with Derek hot on his heels.
Spencer’s head perked up from between your thighs at the abrupt intrusion, his lips and chin already glistening with your arousal, and a concoction of puzzlement and vexation knit his brows together.
“How-”
Hotch held up his right hand with the key card nestled between his index and middle finger, arching one of his thick brows in a pointed expression.
“You think I don’t have a master key to each of my agent’s rooms for emergency purposes?”
While on his knees in front of the bed with his hands clamped firmly around your soft thighs, Spencer stared at the key in Hotch’s hand as if it had personally wronged him. He hadn’t planned for that. He had planned on having you all to himself for an hour before he had to share.
“Son of a bitch.”
Derek’s mouth instantly parted into an amused tooth bearing grin at Spencer’s outburst of realization, and he chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest, causing his light gray t-shirt to stretch over his firm chest and large biceps.
“Nothing like a pretty girl to slice that genius IQ right in half. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
Raising up on your elbows on the bed, you glanced over at Derek with a faint smirk as you arched one of your brows in a teasing gesture.
“I don’t know what you’re getting cocky about. He’s the one with the eidetic memory of the female anatomy and what I like.”
“Oh it’s like that, huh? Do I need to remind you who in this room has the most practice with female anatomy? Cause I seem to remember you feeling pretty satisfied on the jet earlier.”
Slipping your hand down into the mess of light brown curls on top of Spencer’s head, you gave his hair a gentle tug to guide his mouth back to where you wanted it, a silent command he happily obliged. Feeling the warmth of Spencer’s wet tongue starting to glide slowly over your clit again, you laid back against the mattress once more and closed your eyes while a soft sigh emitted from your parted lips.
“A little refresher course never hurt anyone. Take a seat, boys. Dr. Reid is giving an oral presentation.”
Whatever argument Hotch or Derek had quickly died on their tongues as they became entranced watching Spencer sensually and slowly eat your pussy from his spot on his knees at the edge of the bed. The four of you had spent the past twelve hours since the jet landed making your rounds at the police station, visiting the scene of the crime, and the medical examiner’s office before Hotch finally decided it was time to check into the hotel. All of you were beyond exhausted, but none of you could stop thinking about what was going to happen the second the four of you were finally alone together.
There had been a buzzing energy surrounding the four of you since you stepped off the jet with the promise of more in the back of everyone’s minds.
As much as their hands were itching to touch you, Hotch and Derek couldn’t tear their eyes away from the enticing show taking place in front of them. The way your body writhed gently against the mattress, the rhythm of your hips rolling back and forth against Spencer’s face like a delicate ocean tide, the soft and hedonistic noises of pleasure that rose in volume and pitch as Spencer devoured you like a man on death row savoring his last meal.
“At least we found a way to shut him up.”
Hotch softly grinned at Derek’s quiet quip while reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie completely, slipping it from around his neck.
“Silver lining. Help her get more comfortable, would you?”
Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly behind himself. As soon as his belt was unbuckled, he kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans down to his ankles to step out of them, leaving him in a white pair of briefs that were already bulging from his half hard cock.
“Way ahead of you.”
Taking a few steps over towards the large bed, Derek moved to sit on his knees right behind your head and leaned forward to grab the bottom of your dress that was bunched up around your hips. He pulled it upwards to slip it off of you, leaving you completely exposed. The cool temperature in the room quickly had your nipples rising to stiff peaks, and you shivered when Derek’s large and warm hands began to squeeze your breasts firmly. Letting your eyes flutter open, you stared up into Derek’s deep and warm chocolate brown eyes as he flashed you that charming grin that never failed to make you weak in the knees.
“Reid putting his mouth to good use?”
Sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip, you arched your back slightly off the mattress and moaned in response as Spencer trapped your clit between his soft lips and began to suck fervently. In return, you gave his hair a rough tug which had a moan of his own vibrating against your soaked cunt. The vibrations echoed throughout your trembling thighs, and your stomach felt tight with anticipation for what was coming, and what would follow afterwards.
Derek toyed with your sensitive nipples, alternating between flicking his thumbs over them, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, and pinching gently. He leaned over you, teasingly gliding his tongue in a languid circle around your hardened nub before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing you to tug harder at Spencer’s unruly roots. The combination of the stimulation from Derek and Spencer was almost too much, and it had you barreling towards euphoria quickly.
Opening your eyes, you were immediately drawn to the sight of Hotch sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, watching intently while a haze of lust darkened his eyes to the deepest shade you had ever seen them. He was still fully dressed in his suit, but he held his tie tightly in his right hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through your nervous system.
“Who’s that for?”
Hotch lifted his gaze from Spencer’s head between your thighs to meet your eyes, and a wicked smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.
“Now if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”
Oh.
Hotch was in the mood to play.
The more comfortable the four of you got with your little arrangement, the more everyone started to see the real version of one another in the bedroom. Out of the three men, Hotch was by far the most dominant, and enjoyed being in complete control, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. But the fetishes that lurked beneath the surface did catch you off guard from time to time.
Derek wasn’t too keen on being tied up, unless you talked him into it on rare occasions, so you and Spencer were usually the object of Hotch’s bondage fantasies. You didn’t realize you would enjoy being completely at someone else’s mercy so much, but with Hotch, you found it incredibly erotic. Everything he did was to maximize your pleasure. He may have liked being in control, but out of the three of them, he definitely took the cake for being a giver.
The second Spencer gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive clit, your orgasm unexpectedly crashed over you without warning, and your body seized up while repetitive cries of pleasure tore through your chest. Gripping the sheets so hard in your fists your knuckles turned stark white, you tried to weakly pull away from Spencer’s delectable assault on your overstimulated clit, but Derek held your hips down firmly so that Spencer could continue to ravenously collect every drop you had to offer.
The line between pleasure and pain was beginning to blur, and relief only came when Hotch grabbed Spencer by his hair and tugged his head backwards before pulling him up to his feet. Spencer’s pupils were completely blown open with lust, and his lips were somewhat swollen as they glistened with the burst of gratification he had wrung from you. He was lightly panting trying to catch his own breath.
“That’s enough.”
“But I-”
“You get to fuck her when I say you can. Understood?”
Spencer’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, one of his physical tells that he was aroused and trying to contain himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded his head in silent obedience. The deep and calm tone of Hotch’s voice was laced with a delicate warning, letting all three of you know that there was no room for debate regarding who was in control tonight.
You didn’t call him “Daddy of the BAU” for nothing.
“Yes sir.”
Releasing his grip on Spencer’s hair, Hotch grabbed onto the back of his neck instead and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, swiping his tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip and biting it roughly while humming in appreciation at the taste of you that lingered. A low growl sounded from deep within Hotch’s chest as he let go of Spencer.
“Good boy. Get undressed and switch places with Morgan.”
While Derek and Spencer swapped places, you moved to sit up on wobbly knees, and Hotch stepped forward to capture your jaw in his large hand, his ring and pinky finger resting along your neck against your pulse point to feel the thrum of your pounding heartbeat. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip lightly, and a flash of pure lust eclipsed over his darkened eyes when you wrapped your lips around it and pressed your tongue firmly against the pad of his thumb. He bent down to where your noses were just barely an inch apart.
“Do you think you could handle two of us at once, sweetheart?”
Your eyes instantly lit up at the question. Normally they all took turns with you, or one fucked you while you sucked another off. You had only taken two of them at once twice before, and while it caused a lingering ache for the following days after, it was absolutely worth it. Nodding your head eagerly, Hotch let out a dark chuckle as a crooked grin split across his lips.
“Good girl.”
Tearing his gaze away, Hotch looked at Derek and tossed him the tie that was in his hand, gesturing with his head towards Spencer’s direction.
“I want his hands tied to the bed.”
Derek turned to look down at Spencer with an amused smirk, taking a step closer towards the edge of the bed as he straightened out the tie in his hands.
“You heard ‘em, pretty boy. Lemme see those hands.”
Spencer let out a whine of protest, turning his head to look at Hotch with a pleading expression, but Hotch gave a firm shake of his head while slipping his jacket off of his broad shoulders and down his arms.
“You follow the rules, you get what you want. You act like a brat, you get treated like one. Next time, you open the door when I tell you to. Give Morgan your hands.”
While Derek slipped the fabric around Spencer’s wrists in an intricate labyrinth to bind them together and tied them to the headboard with Hotch’s tie, Hotch took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt. You watched over your shoulder as Derek expertly weaved the tie around Spencer’s wrists with a soft pout on your lips.
“Don’t think I forgot about you.”
Before you had a moment to process the sound of Hotch unbuckling his belt, he grabbed your hips and twisted your body around to face Spencer, and just as quickly pulled your arms behind your back. Grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, Hotch slipped the leather of his belt around them to secure your wrists together tightly. Your lips parted in surprise while you gazed down at Spencer below you. His arms were raised above his head, wrists crossed one over the other and bound to the headboard by Hotch’s black tie, the pupils of his eyes blown so wide they nearly obscured the hazel ring of his irises.
Your eyes fell to the sight of his hard cock, fully erect and standing proud to attention, the swollen tip a deep shade of rose and glossed over with weeping arousal. You could see the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as you noticed him very tenuously flexing his hips upwards against nothing in search of friction.
“He looks pretty like this, doesn’t he?”
Hotch whispered lowly in your ear, the warmth of his breath against your delicate skin causing you to shudder in response and arch your back subtly.
“Yes.”
“Tell him.”
Staring down directly into Spencer’s eyes, a soft whimper caught in your throat while a fresh tide of arousal leaked between your thighs.
“You look so pretty like this, Spence.”
Hotch’s rough hands firmly gripped onto your hips as he pressed his bare chest flush against your back. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back, and you instinctively pushed your ass back against him which caused him to dig his blunt nails into your soft flesh.
“Behave.”
Hotch quietly hissed between clenched teeth. Brushing your hair off your bare shoulder, he nuzzled his nose against the column of your neck and took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down roughly before gliding his tongue along the shell of your ear. A quiet shuddering breath slipped past your lips, and you could feel Hotch grin against your neck.
“Now, listen closely. I want you to ride Spencer while I fuck you from behind, and I want you to open that pretty mouth nice and wide to take Derek’s cock. Understood?”
Derek reached out to cradle your jaw in his large hand, gently tugging your bottom lip down with his thumb as he leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss right beneath your ear, whispering in a sultry voice.
“Think you can handle that, baby girl?”
“She can handle it. She’s a good girl.”
Despite being bound to the bed, Spencer’s voice had a rough and somewhat dominant cadence to it as he spoke matter of factly. All three men shared a knowing look between each other before Hotch smacked his palm against your ass, drawing your attention back to the present with a soft gasp tearing from your lips, reminding you that he expected an answer. Swallowing thickly, you nodded eagerly in a breathless voice.
“Yes.”
Derek arched one of his onyx brows as he slipped his hand down from your jaw down to your throat, giving it a faint squeeze.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir.”
Derek’s lips parted into a dazzling proud grin. He slipped his hand down between your thighs, his index and middle finger experimentally slipping inside your soaked cunt while his thumb teasingly brushed over your sensitive clit. A sharp moan tore from your chest while you clamped your thighs around Derek’s hand, and his dark brown eyes flickered over your shoulder to give Hotch a slight nod of his head.
“Oh she’s more than ready.”
A whimper escaped your lips when Derek retracted his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Hotch lifted you up slightly to move you forward, causing you to straddle Spencer’s hips. Both of you let out a piercing whine as the head of his throbbing cock brushed against your pulsing clit, and as a deep chuckle rumbled in Hotch’s chest, you felt it vibrating against your back.
“Good. Then let’s play.”
Reaching down between you and Spencer, Derek wrapped his hands around the base of Spencer’s hard cock, which had Spencer hissing softly and lightly shifting his hips upwards. As Hotch gripped onto your hips and guided you forward, Derek assisted in aligning your body to help you slowly sink down on Spencer’s cock. Spencer had been watching earnestly, but as soon as your welcoming heat enveloped him completely and he bottomed out inside of you, his head fell back against the pillows as he let out a strangled moan, his jaw going slack and his eyes screwed shut.
“Oh f-fuck…”
Spencer was by far the most vocal out of the three of them, and it always filled you with a rush of excitement being able to tear such alluring noises from his pretty mouth.
Giving you only a few seconds to adjust, Hotch placed his palm between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, causing you to lean over Spencer completely while Derek moved your hair away from your face. The only reason you hadn’t fallen over was because Hotch had a tight hold on the belt that was bound around your wrists, keeping you suspended in the exact position he wanted you in. Spitting into his palm, Hotch used his saliva as a lubricant to coat the length of his cock as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly to make you arch your back and align your ass further up into the air.
“Take a deep breath for me, baby.”
Sucking in a sharp inhale, you dug your nails deeply into the skin of your palms in anticipation. Hotch reached around your body to strum his index and middle finger in quick circles over your clit, ripping a surprised moan from deep within your chest. Thanks to the orgasm Spencer had given you, your body was more relaxed, and your pussy was still slick with your release which made it easier for Hotch to join Spencer inside you. When you felt the blunt head of Hotch’s cock nudging against Spencer’s and slowly stretching you out inch by divine inch, your jaw became fully unhinged and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head.
“Ohmygod-”
The voice that echoed from your throat didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. It was depleted of oxygen and came out in such a rush that your own ears had trouble unscrambling the words. The sound of Hotch letting out a guttural moan behind you sounded like thunder booming right in your ears. The serrated sting between your thighs was impossible to ignore as your spongy walls were stretched to accommodate them both, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the succulent fullness that you felt. Hotch continued to stimulate jolts of pleasure by strumming your clit with his index and middle fingers, trying to help your body to relax and adjust to the new and overwhelming intrusion.
“Shh…there you go. Just breathe, baby girl.”
Derek was lovingly stroking his fingers through your hair while reminding you to perform such a basic subconscious action. As you struggled to suck in deep breaths, Spencer was impatiently thrusting his hips upwards in a slow rhythm, his biceps flexing while he tugged at the restraints on his wrist. Hotch gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you from falling on top of Spencer, his blunt nails leaving crescent shaped indentations on your soft hips. Once he felt the tension evaporate and your muscles loosening, he started to flex his hips forward to match Spencer’s delicate rhythm.
The composition of their conduction had your body swaying to the idle tempo they had silently established. Spencer and Hotch held you securely between their thighs, gliding back and forth over your delicate strings, coaxing legato notes of pleasure from your lips.
Once Derek could see that you were completely relaxed and ready for more, he moved in closer and brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, a silent signal you instantly obeyed by parting your lips eagerly. A deep sigh of appreciation sounded from Derek’s chest when he slowly slipped his cock past your lips, and he gently traced his thumb along your cheekbone while you moaned at the feeling of his velvet weight caressing your tongue.
This was the first time you had ever taken all three of them at once like this, and it was almost entirely too overwhelming. Every single one of your senses was overstimulated.
Despite the three of them wearing starkly unique colognes, it was impossible to discern which smell belonged to who. Each of their scents perfectly mixed in with your own, creating one indistinguishable fragrance that enveloped you entirely and left you feeling intoxicated and light headed. Your skin was overheated already from the intensity of the moment, but also from the warmth that radiated naturally from each one of them; Hotch’s chest flush against your back, Derek’s palms caressing your cheeks, and Spencer’s thighs lightly smacking against your own.
Even though your heart was pounding in your ears to the point of being deafening, you could hear the heavenly noises escaping each of them. Spencer was whimpering beneath you, begging for you to ride him harder. Derek was panting breathlessly above you, whispering softly how good you felt. Hotch was letting out deep growls and grunts as he moved behind you, demanding lowly in your ear that you take everything he was giving you.
The salty tang of Derek’s leaking arousal coated your tongue, but you could also still taste the roasted blonde espresso from Spencer’s lips and the fresh wintergreen mint that lingered on Hotch’s tongue. The pleasure was getting to be too much, and you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open. You weren’t even on the brink of another orgasm yet, but there was already a firework show happening behind your eyelids.
Something about this moment was so incredibly perfect, like this was where you all belonged.
Together.
This wasn’t just about sex. It never had been. A piece of you had always belonged to each of them, and vice versa, ever since that first night in Vegas. There was just something about the four of you together that couldn’t be explained, but you all felt it every time you were with each other like this.
A single reaction from one of you set off a chain reaction for the rest of you. Hotch started to snap his hips in more powerful and precise thrusts, causing you to grind down harder on Spencer’s cock, and the vibrations of you moaning around Derek’s cock caused his own rhythm to become sloppy and falter when he began to fuck your face.
The air in the hotel room was thick with heat and sweat like a sauna, and a cacophony of intermingled moans and grunts of satisfaction grew louder and louder the closer you all got to reaching a peak as grand as Everest. The second one of you jumped off the top to free fall, the rest of you would follow.
Spencer was the first to break. He was so far gone he couldn’t even get a warning out, but the second he released inside of you with a loud shout of your name, his spasming hips caused his pubic bone to bump against your clit repeatedly just right to set off your own orgasm. Hotch was fucking you relentlessly from behind as he chased his own high, and the contraction of your walls combined with the flood of yours and Spencer’s release made him double over as he grunted loudly, resting his forehead against your middle back while pumping his seed deeper and deeper within you. Derek was the last to fall apart. He let his head fall back while closing his eyes, his beautiful features twisted up in pure ecstasy as he let out a sensual moan while spilling down your throat.
The four of you were stuck together in a sweaty pile on the bed and no one wanted to move. Derek slowly slipped his softened cock from your lips so you could gasp for air, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair to help you calm down. Hotch did his best to carefully pull out, but the sudden movement had you crying out and tensing up. Hotch peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder blades, shushing you quietly while removing the leather restraint of his belt from your wrists and massaging them gently. Without him holding you up by your hips, you collapsed face first into Spencer’s chest.
When Derek freed Spencer’s wrists from the headboard, Spencer immediately wrapped his arms securely around your trembling frame and cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t dare move, letting himself soften inside of you as he held you there, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss and delicately carding his fingers through your hair.
Each one of you were panting hard, trying to regain your bearings from such an intense experience, but they had catapulted you so far up into the clouds, you weren’t sure you could ever make it down. It felt as if you had stuck your finger into an outlet, sending an intense shock throughout your entire body, the lingering electricity still crackling with the faintest jolts of motion. Their voices were distant and muffled, like your head was underwater, and you couldn’t focus on anything except the blackness that pulled over the entire horizon behind your eyelids.
Moments later, something cold and wet was pressed against the back of your neck, causing a shiver to spread throughout your body. When your eyes lazily fluttered open, you were met with the dim light of the hotel room, and as you slowly lifted your head, Spencer began to come into focus in front of you. He was laying back against the pillows watching you, holding a washcloth soaked in cold water against the back of your neck while still slipping his fingers through your hair with his other hand. He gently wiped the washcloth over both of your heated cheeks and flashed you a dopey grin.
“Welcome back to Earth, pretty girl.”
A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you looked at him with a tired smile, humming softly while nuzzling into the warmth of his body as you hugged him.
“Hi.”
Hearing the sweet and sleepy mumble from your lips, Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Hotch and Morgan went to grab us some dinner. They’ll be back in a bit. How are you feeling?”
“Sticky.”
Spencer erupted in laughter at the adorable pout on your lips, nodding as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.
“There were a lot of bodily fluids being exchanged.”
“Okay, it sounds gross when you say it like that.”
“Is ‘you did have three guys come inside you at once’ better?”
Scrunching up your nose, you weakly lifted your hand to press your index finger against Spencer’s soft lips with a quiet laugh.
“Please shut up.”
Spencer chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your finger, tossing the wet washcloth onto the nightstand by the bed.
“Fine. How about a shower?”
“Too much standing.”
“A bath?”
Pretending to think it over, you eventually let out a soft exhale while gazing into Spencer’s hazel eyes with a teasing grin.
“Spencer Reid, you’re a genius.”
The edge of Spencer’s lips tugged upwards into a playful smirk, and he rolled his eyes at your lame joke. He moved to sit up, slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and his other around your waist so he could lift you up into his embrace to carry you towards the bathroom.
“So I’ve been told.”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejloveb0t @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @viscade @starsm00n @kenseverything @storiesofsvu @sabage101 @spiritofthewriter @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek @avencol
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x f!reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner smut#derek morgan#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x female reader#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan x f!reader#derek morgan fic#derek morgan smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x f!reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#aaron hotchner x you x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x female reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x f!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#criminal minds
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@incognit0slut why is this 6 hours long?
Content Warning: Idek probs fluff to make up for the sinful things I’ve written lol
Summary: Spencer learns how much his voice and his hands affect you.
A/N : hohoho nevermind this is short heat
“Yeah sure," Spencer's voice is low as he mumbles against your skin. His hands wrap tighter around you as he nuzzles into you. “Y/n?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, unable to think.
“Why did you stiffen up? Are you hurt? Are you okay?” Spencer is about to move his hands when you grip them tighter.
“I’m perfect Spencer, especially when i’m in your arms".
Spencer leaves light kisses on your neck.
“I love you y/n,” he starts muzzling you again. “I love you so much I can’t do or think about anything else except for you, and I’m perfectly content with that.” you giggle at his short declaration.
"I love you too Spence, I love you so much that you could be chewing my ear off about Reptilien behaviour and even though I probably wouldn’t understand half of it, I’d still listen with rapt attention,” you feel him smile against your skin.
“Fun fact…" you turn around and he stops. “You weren’t being serious about the reptilien behaviour were yo-”
“Spencer, when i hear a fun fact from you, I hear a moment to know what goes on in my lover’s head. That is something I’m always serious about."
Spencer blushes and you have to stop yourself from playing with his cheeks. He says he hates it but he doesn’t complain when you do.
His fingers start to trace the inner of your thigh and you stiffen involuntarily. “Y/n?” his voice is right next to your ear.
“Yeah," your response is a bit breathless.
“How much of an effect do I have on you,” you feel your face heat up. You were caught.
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#criminal minds#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x f!reader#spencer reid x fem!reader
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When he’s written by Lana del Rey
#lana del rey#born to die#paradise#ultraviolence#honeymoon#lust for life#norman f*****g rockwell#chemtrails over the country club#blue banisters#did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd#joel miller x reader#anakin skywalker x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#bucky barnes x reader#matt murdock x reader#spencer reid x reader#daemon targeryen x reader#joe goldberg x reader#rafe cameron x reader#nate jacobs x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#billy hargrove x reader#carlisle cullen x reader#tom riddle x reader#finnick odair x reader#ethan landry x reader#luke castellan x reader#I’m backkkkkkk
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nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid
just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.
this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)
"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.
"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.
not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.
the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.
you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.
"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.
"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.
"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.
"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.
"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.
"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.
you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.
he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.
"do you think that's what this is about?"
"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.
"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."
spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.
"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.
"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.
you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.
"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.
"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.
"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."
you don't think you've ever loved him more.
"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.
"no, i guess not." you disagree.
"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."
"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.
"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.
"you think so?"
"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.
"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.
"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.
"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.
you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.
he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.
"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.
"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.
"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.
"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.
"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.
"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.
"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.
"you don't know everything."
"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.
"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.
spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.
maybe do a bit more than kiss.
"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.
"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"
"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."
"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.
"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."
spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.
even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.
"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."
you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.
"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.
"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.
"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.
"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.
"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.
"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.
you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.
"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.
"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.
"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.
"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.
"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"
"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.
"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.
"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.
"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.
"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.
"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.
"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.
"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.
"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.
"yeah?"
"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.
"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.
"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.
god, you hate him.
"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.
"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.
"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.
"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.
"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."
"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.
your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.
"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.
"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.
"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.
"we'll see." he retorts.
god, you love him.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fic#spencer reid f#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid fic#mgg imagine#mgg#matthew gray gubler imagine#matthew gray gubler
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NIGHT GUARD
f!reader x Spencer Reid (18+)
summary : You were getting out of jail one way or another, you just needed a coat to ride in. Lucky for you, you fucked the night guard every chance you got.
warnings : manipulation, dom!spence, guard x prisoner, abuse of power, minor spanking, dirty talk, talks of impregnating, squirting
“Lights out!”
Being in prison was no joke. Doing the same things every single day drove you crazy. Not to mention the literal bullying of some inmates. You had a friend or two, they had your back. You mostly stood up for yourself though. You were quite intimidating once talked to. You stayed to yourself and watched out for yourself. You were sick of it.
And now this week you’re in solitary. “Y/N?” You hear your name being whispered from the other side of the door. A voice you knew all too well. “Pretty Boy.” You smile, “Get me out of here huh?”
“Not tonight.” He quickly shuts you down, but opens the door. Spencer Reid worked the night shift for the prison, being the night guard in your ward. Everyone wanted him- some people tried, many, many failed. But you? Tch. He leans in to kiss you softly on the lips, you moan into the kiss, tasting strawberry on his lips from his lip chap, your favorite. “Double Security tonight.” He murmurs.
His hands are on you in an instant, fumbling to undo the orange jumpsuit you made look so beautiful. You moan softly at Spencer’s lips on your neck, biting as he trailed down to your hardened perky nipples through the white tank top. “Fuck Spence-“ your body’s being pushed up against the wall, kicking out of the shoes and jumpsuit. He takes a moment to admire your frame, standing there in a tank top and underwear. “Well? I don’t have all night.” You breathe. He smiles softly and starts taking off his belt, walking towards you.
“You’re right.” Spencer looks over your body before you’re shoved against the wall. “You know what to do.” He says. Smirking, your body moves to bend over, touching your toes. Spencer moans at the sight of how wet your panties were. The spot only growing larger as he neared, cock hard and waiting….
“Have you heard the rumors going around?” thrust. “Guards are being fired, transferred for having sexual relations with the prisoners.” thrust. “It’s crazy out there- ah fuck..” Spencer’s cock was buried deep into your heat. Your eyes were shut tight, taking the large shaft with pride. You’d get out, you’d.. moaning quietly as he slapped your ass you felt yourself tighten around him. He curses lowly, speeding up. “Oh shit..oh fuck..f-fuck-“ you tremble, cunt squeezing around his thick cock. the grip around your ankles tightened as you held on. You felt dizzy, blood rushing to your head from the position.
“If you weren’t locked in here I wouldn’t have to be so-fuck- careful.” your eyes watered as your legs started to hurt. “How many times have I wanted to fill you up.. ah, how much I wanted to see you full with my cum until your belly’s all swollen.” Another smack to your ass brings you to a quivering halt. your cunt gushes against Spencer’s cock, juices running down your legs while he kept fucking you. “Mgonna cum- I’m gonna cum Spence- I’m..fuck fuck!” You cried out, not caring who heard. Spencer fucks your through your orgasm, his own cum coating your walls shortly afterwards. Slowly, he fucked his cum back into you, pulling out messily while it dripped down your wet cunt with your juices.
“Tsk, tsk.. You weren’t quiet at all angel. Now what if they transfer me hm? How are you gonna get out now?” Spencer daunting voice was loud in your ears, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of your heart beating before your eyes closed.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#mgg#gender neutral reader#mgg x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#aaron hotch#aaron hotchner#spencer#reid#top reid#cm#spencer reid headcanons#fem reader#reid x reader#spencer reid x f reader#guard x prisoner
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#steven grant#steven grant smut#vigilante#adrian chase smut#dev patel#aaron hotchner smut#frank castle x f!reader#spencer reid x reader#ambrose spellman
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— 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 —
જ⁀➴ — • summary: off from work sick, you cancel your date — but that won’t stop spencer plans <3; • a/n: this scenario has been in my head for almost two years, and i finally wrote it !!; • cw: none, but themes of sickness (flu); • pairing: spencer reid x f!reader
MAIN MASTERLIST
Thirty minutes after your phone call, your apartment doorbell rang out with a buzz — thankfully not so obnoxiously loud as the shrill, high notes of the one you’d once owned.
You groaned, debating what to do, and the headache at your temples only throbbed ever harder. You’d only just managed to get comfortable, and would be well damned if you had to get up.
If you left it, you thought, perhaps whoever was there would just then leave. For all that they knew, you might’ve been out, and why not? You’d just let them believe it. Right now just the thought of leaving your couch had you mourning the loss of its warmth, already missing the relative comfort of where you’d been laying for most of the day.
It was just your luck to be sick on the first day off that you’d had in five months; life in the BAU had its stressors enough and now this? The world sure had its humour.
It seemed to be flu, or something similar — and now in November, it was hardly unlikely. After three bouts of nausea, those flushes of both hot and cold, you were truly fatigued. Somehow though, neither one of those bothered you more than one fact in particular:
You’d had to cancel your date with fellow agent turned close friend, Spencer Reid.
Your blanket and tissues and trashy tv was now all that tonight had in store.
When you’d spoken to him on the phone, he’d hidden his disappointment well; it was an undercurrent beneath the much greater worry for you, for how sick you were feeling. But then, what really did you expect? This was Spencer — of course he’d been understanding. He’d hoped you’d feel better as soon as you could, even offered to do “anything that might help.”
But you’d firmly insisted that after such a long shift working a case, the very last thing he needed was sickness from you if your influenza spread.
A knocking sounded at the door, just three short raps. Polite, uniform. It was enough to pull you out from your thoughts and resign yourself to opening the goddamn thing.
You hobbled up to your feet. Even just standing, your head spun, prickled; you waited until you regained your balance. When at last you did, you mumbled a quick “I’m coming” before with great effort, trudging to the door.
Your progress was slow, the blanket that had covered your legs now tossed over your shoulders. It was draped on each side so that it almost drowned out your whole form, and that was how you answered the door.
Hair a mess, dark circles in moon crescents just under your eyes, most likely snot clearly plain on the tissue that you clutched to your face — and on the doorstep, Spencer.
Shock registered dimly, followed by an immediate warmth. Whoever you’d expected it hadn’t been him, and yet just the sight of him spiked up your pulse.
“Spence? What are you doing here?” Acting on instinct, you opened up the door wider. There he stood, still in his smart suit, fresh from work with that wind-tousled hair. His eyes were concerned, and you knew that look well, saw it etched on each well-loved part of his face.
Spencer’s gaze swept over you, by no means brazen — uncertain, unsure. “Well you’re sick, so we obviously can’t go out anymore. But I grabbed some of your favourites, and just thought we could stay in …”
His voice was matter of fact, just like always, no nuance and only slight nerves. You hadn’t even noticed the brown paper bag that he clutched to his chest, but did now.
Your favourites.
It was something so simple, so endlessly thoughtful that your heart leapt with something unnamed. This was only the second ever date that you’d had since meeting some few months ago; you’d both taken time, seemed to waste it, hoping that the other one would ask first. And he did.
But you weren’t quite ready to name the soft feeling that had your chest aching inside you, couldn’t quite speak around the lump in your throat that could only be love, or close enough to it.
Spencer must’ve taken your silence for no, and when he next spoke, was less sure. “I was hoping that maybe … I could be here, tonight? You need your rest, and I know that you cancelled, but I guess I just thought I could be here to help —”
He was rambling. Actually rambling. That sense of heartache only ricocheted higher. You watched as one hand went up, streaked back through his hair, and he realised that he’d over-spoke.
His eyes gladly landed anywhere but on you, and you’d never felt more devastated.
You reached for his arm, and steadied it where it had reached for his hair once again; you knew him so well, each and every nervous habit, and his tells were second nature to you by now. It was only at your touch that his eyes at last stilled on your face. And this time, they didn’t leave.
“Spence, I was just gonna say that I really don’t wanna make you sick, too.” Your heart rate was spiking with affection for this boy who had a blush rising soft on his cheeks. His smile was quiet, eyes warm, as though he hadn’t just moved you with the sweetness of the gesture he’d made.
He’d come to your door with snacks, medicines — everything you’d need to feel better — just so he could be here, could take care of you, while you were too sick to go on your date.
“I’d really rather be sick with you than alright with anyone else.” And oh god. The crimson shade to his cheeks after that had your stomach going wild in flips — the way that he’d spoken the words so quickly as though they’d been instinct, as though he’d meant to just think them.
You couldn’t stop staring at him.
In this moment, he wasn’t Doctor Reid — unassuming, modest owner of three phds. He wasn’t just Spencer, so sweet and kind underneath the sure genius and practical skill.
No. Right here, he was Spence — and you, the only one who gave him that name. He was the boy on your doorstep that over the months that you’d known him — you’d now come to love.
His smile grew and so did yours; those thoughts were so plain on your face. Your plans for the night had just got that much brighter than you’d thought just ten minutes before.
#fanfic#fanfic author#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x f!reader#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer x you#spencer x reader#criminal minds spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff
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It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid
Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween
Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)
Word Count: 5.4k
This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved
“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”
You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”
She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions.
“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”
You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.
“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.”
Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”
“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.
The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.
“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”
Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.
“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”
This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.
“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise.
“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”
“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”
Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.
“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”
You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”
Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back.
You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant.
Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.
Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.
“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.
You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.
“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.
A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack.
His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”
“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.
Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.
“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”
“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”
The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.
“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”
He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.
You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”
Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome.
He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.
“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”
“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”
“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.
His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”
“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words.
“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”
“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”
He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”
“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”
Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”
“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume.
Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.
Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble.
Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment.
You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.
You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.
Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you.
He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.
He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.
You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”
“Y– yes…” he muttered.
His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper.
For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.
You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task.
You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—
“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”
You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”
The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted.
“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.
You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”
Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it.
You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.
You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.
You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.
When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.
“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.
“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”
You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”
“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.
You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.
You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.
He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close.
Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.
You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.
The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.
“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”
Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”
“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.
You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”
He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom.
You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin.
You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?
Your brain was going in severe overdrive.
You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.
“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.
He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”
His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.
“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.
Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before.
“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”
Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.
You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”
“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”
In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.
“Spencer…”
“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication.
“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”
Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”
He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.
If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”
“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”
You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”
The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.
You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”
“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.
He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots.
You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”
He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.
“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.
You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.
He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”
“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him.
“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off.
His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”
You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.
“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.
You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.
You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”
Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.
He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.
“How do I feel? Spence...?”
Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”
“You like it?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement.
All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!”
Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.
He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.
“Spence, I need more…”
He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.
When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”
He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”
“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.
He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.
You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded.
He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected.
Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.
“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor.
He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls.
“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”
He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”
“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”
“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”
“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”
“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”
He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”
This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.
“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”
“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."
NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x plus size reader#spencer reid smut#criminalminds#criminalminds fanfic#criminalminds smut#virgin!spencer reid#smut#smut with fluff#mdni#minors do not interact#lots of consent#not beta read#halloween feels#friends to lovers#garcia is a ray of sunshine#bonus points if you guess the movie#virgin!spencer is my bby and no one is allowed to say bad things about him#spencer's tummy is adorable#i love him your honor#reposting here bc i deactivated my sideblog#my gif#milla writes n*s*f*w*
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Shall I Count the Ways: XLVII
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.
Series Masterlist
A/N: ...hi. i know it's been a while but i'm back on my criminal minds/spencer reid shit. so i'm going to FINALLY finish this series!
47. "You've rendered me speechless."
You sigh over the phone, "I don't think this is a good idea, Spencer. Cat Adams-"
"I know, I know. But this'll be the last time I deal with her. After this, she can't hurt me or anyone ever again. This is the last time."
"If you're sure."
"I am. In the meantime, keep your phone on you at all times just in case I need to get a hold of you ASAP. You never know what Cat will try to pull."
"Alright. Be safe."
"Always," Spencer ends the call, pocketing his phone, and entering the interrogation room.
_______________________
Spencer was getting impatient. He was tired of Cat's games but he knew had to do this. He knew that he was the only one that could beat her in the end. So he had to play the game.
Which led him to here and now. He's fervently kissing Cat Adams against his apartment door when the door swings open...to reveal you.
Your heart immediately drops to your stomach. This has to be a dream. Spencer wouldn't do this to you. He'd never-
"Why're you here?"
"You texted me to meet you here," you pull up your phone to show him the text. But he didn't text you that all.
"I didn't send that," he looks back at Cat, "Why did you bring her here?"
"To chat. Obviously, I want talk to your girlfriend here," and glances back at Spencer, "about you." The woman gives a dark chuckle, "I'm Cat. The woman that Spencer can't seem to stop thinking about," her hand rakes up his arm and he pulls away. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, "She's a little cutie."
"What do you need to tell me about Spencer that I don't already know? We've known each other for decades."
"Yeah?" Cat smirks and tilts her head at you, "Did you know he likes to throw women against a wall and threaten to kill them?"
"That-No. I-"
"Tell the story, Spencey. Don't skip out on the details." Cat plops into one of Spencer's chairs and watches with a maniacal grin on her face.
"Cat was pregnant at the time and I knew that and-"
"The next day, I miscarried," she stands, placing her hands over her belly.
"Wh-What? That's not true," Spencer looks at her in disbelief.
"It is. Check my medical records."
"Why am I here?" you ask, pacing around Spencer's living room, "Whatever sick bullshit the two of you have going on, I don't want any part of it!"
Cat playfully pouts at you, "Aw honey. You had a part in it as soon as you started dating."
You sit at the couch and look up at her, "Why?"
"To show you he's not the person you think he is. You may have known him for over a decade, but you don't really know him. Not like me."
You look down at your lap, hands clasped together tightly and knee starting to bounce. Spencer knows this happens when you get anxious and his heart clenches at the situation he's pulled you in.
"Maybe you're right. I-Honestly, I never understood how he ended up with me when there's other women, smarter women out there for him. I-I can't compare."
Spencer immediately sits by your side, "No, don't-don't say that."
You look up at him with teary eyes, "No matter what I do, Spencer. I don't think I'll ever be good enough for you. And Cat's right. I guess I don't really know you like I thought I did." you stand up and grab your things, "We're done."
You run out of his apartment and Spencer tries to you, but Cat steps in front of him with a big smile on her face, "I win."
_______________________
You're back at the BAU waiting for Spencer. He steps off the elevator dejectedly and you immediately wrap your arms around him.
"Wh-What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry!"
Spencer looks around at his colleagues, "What's going on?"
"We figured out that it wasn't a coincidence that Cat decided to do all this as soon as you and Y/N started dating. So we brought Y/N and let her know our plan."
He looks at you in disbelief, "You've rendered me speechless. I thought-"
You shake your head, "I told you, Speedy, I won't let anything break us apart."
His arms around you tighten, "I thought I really lost you."
You softly smile up at him, "I'm here to stay, Spence," you lean in and peck his lips, and it makes everyone around him smile.
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Love and Passion
--- IMAGES IN MOODBOARD DO NOT REPRESENT READER --
Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader
Wordcount: 500+
Warnings: female anatomy (no pronouns used), no use of y/n, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected oral sex, slight insecure reader
Summary: Spencer begs you to finally sit on his face
Spencer snakes his hand around your waist whilst lying behind you in bed.
“Please love?” he begs
“No Spence, I’m gonna crush you.” you state
“You won’t. I promise.”
“How do you know?”
“It doesn’t matter; Come on baby please, I’ve been dreaming about it forever.”
“Oh, do you dream about me often Dr. Reid?”
Spencer ignores your comment and starts kissing your neck. He rests his head in the crook of your neck. “Please baby,” he whispers.
“Fine.” you say, finally agreeing.
“Thank God '' he exclaims as he turns you onto your back and starts to kiss your neck again. He makes his way back up and kisses your lips with a passion you never thought you’d experience. It was obvious in that moment that he really loved you. He tries to pull away but you quickly pull him back in, deepening the kiss. You snake your tongue into his mouth, you feel as if this is the only way you can express how much love you have for him.
He kisses his way down your exposed abdomen and makes his way to your panties. He slowly kisses your thighs. You sigh in admiration. He slowly slides your panties down your legs and off your ankles. He sits there for a minute admiring you. “So beautiful,” he says.
He climbs back up onto the bed and lays on his back. “C’mere love,” You turn over and straddle his abdomen.
“Are you sure baby?” you say still a little scared you’ll crush the poor man.
“I’m sure baby.”
“Okay.” You raise onto your knees and climb up to his face and slowly lower yourself down. He starts to slowly lick your pussy. You moan in pleasure and he sneaks his arms around your thighs pulling you down so that your full weight is resting on his. He continues to lap up and down your pussy, occasionally stopping to suckle at your clit. You can’t help but moan loudly in pleasure. The combination of the passion and love that fuels the sex makes it even more pleasurable.
He sticks his tongue inside of your pussy and you start to slowly ride his face. Eventually he lets you take control. You grind down on his face, his tongue still out, until he makes you stop by gripping your thighs tighter so he can suck on your clit. You moan loudly at this gesture.
“A-ahh. Spence…”
He can tell you're getting close by the way your thighs are shaking around his face. He moans into your clit, sending you off the edge.
“Oh God, Spence!”
You stay seated on his face as you come down from your high until Spencer taps on your thighs needing to come up for air. You immediately jump off moving to sit next to him. “Oh God, sorry Spence.”
“That. Was. Amazing.” he says looking up at you.
“Really? I almost suffocated you there for a second.”
“Yeah but you still got over your fear and did it. I might even say enjoyed it.”
“I definitely enjoyed it.” You kiss him still being able to taste yourself on his tongue eliciting a moan from you. You lean up, “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid smut#smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#swirllgirl#my work#f!reader#female reader#female reader smut
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slumber party
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid
summary: while en route to a case, the four of you let off a little steam.
warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, a lil angst, derek morgan's smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 3.3k
a/n: let's be real. you didn't come here for a plot, and I didn't write one. enjoy this slutty vision I had in the shower. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
The jet was quiet apart from the sporadic sound of pages being flipped and Spencer’s occasional soft noises of either being intrigued or perplexed regarding details of the case, deciphered only by their volume and pitch. Hotch had read the same paragraph on the report at least seven times, and there seemed to be some kind of disconnect between his tired eyes and unresponsive brain. Letting out a quiet irritated exhale and diverting his attention to the top of the paragraph yet again, a soft noise caused his ears to perk up.
Finally looking up from the report for the first time in half an hour since he originally sat down, creases furrowed in the midst of his forehead when he glanced towards the other end of the jet and caught sight of you. From where he sat, all he could see was the back of your head since you seemed to be facing the back of the seat you were in, which he found extremely odd. But as he craned his neck, he noticed a familiar pair of hands on your hips and instantly clenched his jaw.
“Son of a bitch.”
The second Hotch shot up out of his chair, Spencer finally tore his own eyes away from the report and turned his head to follow Hotch’s angry march down the aisle of the jet with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Now that there were no obstructions in his line of sight, Hotch had the full view of you sitting topless on Derek’s lap with your skirt bunched up around your waist, grinding your hips down in a slow but sensual rhythm. Derek’s hands were firmly grasped on your hips to help guide your movements, and his face was buried into your exposed chest.
“Morgan you greedy fucker.”
The sound of Hotch’s angry voice booming in the comfortable silence caused you to immediately tense up and stop moving, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. He gripped a little tighter onto your hip and gave your ass a light smack, pulling his head back to look at you with that dazzling smile of his that could make anyone weak in the knees.
“No no no no, keep goin’ baby girl. Don’t worry about him. You just keep doing what you’re doing…that’s it.”
Derek leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at Hotch with that same charming grin on his face. His warm chocolate brown eyes were glazed over with lust and had been eclipsed into half moons of pleasure.
“Sorry Hotch, she just looked too goddamn good.”
“What’s going on back-oh.”
As Spencer took his place beside Hotch, his eyes immediately went wide at the sight he was met with. He seemed to be completely mesmerized by the erotic flow of your hips while you languidly rode Derek’s cock as you sat topless on his lap. While Spencer was bewitched by the spell of your hips, Hotch was furious. The stern look that seemed to be his default expression was unaffected by the show taking place before him.
“Morgan, you know the rules-”
“Come on, Hotch. We still got another hour before we land. Lighten up a little. You know, some stress relief would do you a whole lotta good.”
Before Hotch had a chance to respond, Spencer was already stepping forward and unbuttoning his cardigan.
“You could’ve at least asked us to join.”
Derek let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his hands up and down your smooth thighs as he flexed his hips upwards to match your pacing.
“Hey, you were the one more invested in exactly how many trees there are in the Acadia National Park than you were in the beautiful woman on the plane, pretty boy.”
“Well if I had known-”
Letting out a frustrated huff, you stopped moving and placed your hand over Derek’s mouth before turning to look at Spencer and Hotch over your shoulder.
“Boys, you know I hate it when you argue. It makes me dry up.”
Spencer dropped his forgotten cardigan on the chair behind himself, his attention solely fixed on you again. In the dim lighting of the plane, you could just barely see that the green flecks in his honey eyes had deepened into a wicked hue. He ran his fingers gently through your hair before cradling your face in one hand and starting to unbuckle his belt with the other, all while looking at you and dragging his tongue along his bottom lip.
“Don’t worry, we can get you wet again.”
“Not if you’re all standing around bickering instead of fucking me.”
Hotch wasn’t giving in, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was late, he was exhausted, he was beyond sexually frustrated, but above all he was fucking stubborn.
“There is one rule on this fucking plane. When we are en route to a case, we are focused on the case. Playtime is for after.”
Brushing Spencer’s hand away from his belt, a smirk tugged across your lips as you looked up at him and began to unbuckle it yourself, which only caused him to bite down on his bottom lip seductively. Throwing a glance over your shoulder at Hotch, you could visibly see just how pissed off he was, but as your gaze wandered down south, you could also see the outline of his impressive cock starting to strain against his pants. Sinking your teeth into your own bottom lip, you looked up at Hotch through your, flashing him a sultry smile while you teasingly unzipped Spencer’s pants slowly.
“Aw, come on, Aaron. If anyone needs some relief, it’s you. Just come have a little fun with us.”
The hardness in Hotch’s glare wavered only slightly at the provocative sound of your voice. It was an unrelenting struggle to keep his eyes focused directly on yours and to not let them roam over your body. If he let his gaze wander for even a split second to see the way your nipples were peaked from the cool air in the cabin, the way your soft hand was caressing Spencer’s cock through his pants, or the way your ass moved against Derek’s lap while you fucked him, he would break. While Derek began to flex his hips upwards a little harder to fuck up into you now that there was no longer a reason to stay quiet, you were pulling Spencer’s cock out of his briefs and leaning over to take him into your mouth.
Before he could watch you wrap your lips around Spencer’s tip, Hotch quickly looked away and stormed off towards the other end of the jet, dropping into his chair and loosening his tie with a hardened scowl on his face.
“You’re all getting written up.”
“For what?”
Derek's protest was only faintly heard since Hotch’s blood was now pounding in his ears like a high school marching band, and throbbing in other places.
“Insubordination.”
There was a slight growl to his voice as he barked back at Derek, not even bothering to look up as he angrily began to look through the case file again, but he couldn't focus. No matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was Derek and Spencer praising you in tandem as they each took an offering from your body, and the soft noises of gratitude that flowed from your lips. It was absolute fucking torture. He thought about palming himself through his pants, just to get a little reprieve without alerting any of you to his moment of weakness. But he was so fucking angry with all of you, he didn’t even want to give in.
His mind was a jumbled concoction of juxtaposed thoughts, none of which had anything to do with the case in front of him. Hotch wasn’t sure why he was so pissed off right now. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had joined in, it wasn’t like the four of you hadn’t done it before. It certainly would’ve put him in a better mood. But this was a big case, and Strauss had been on his ass more than usual lately, and things at the BAU had been so chaotic that the team was getting split up just to keep up with the influx of cases coming across JJ’s desk.
Maybe it was a mistake not to send you with Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss. The air always shifted when you were alone with him, Reid, and Morgan. It was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he ordered you to come with him, because even if he didn’t want to consciously admit it, subconsciously he knew that this was exactly what he needed. He needed you, and the peace that you brought him.
The sharp sound of a smack landing on flesh caught his attention, and Hotch looked up to see that the three of you had moved to the bench directly in his line of sight. Derek had his head thrown back as pounded into you from behind, occasionally smacking his hand against your ass while he grunted about how tight and wet you always were. Spencer held your hair back while he fucked your mouth, watching you as he moaned praises of what a good girl you were. Your face was obstructed by Spencer’s back, but Hotch could hear how much you were enjoying yourself, and he couldn’t look away.
As Derek and Spencer came in unison, Hotch gripped onto the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned stark white, and he inhaled a sharp breath that he let out slowly through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he glared down at the blur of black ink on the pages, listening to the sound of your angelic laughter and kisses being exchanged between the three of you. Why was he doing this to himself? Why hadn’t he just fucking given in and joined?
While Spencer was sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles, head back against the window with a blissed out look on his face, Derek snaked his arm around your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your neck before whispering into your ear.
“Do me a favor, baby girl. Go take care of grumpy over there.”
Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned and brushed your nose against Derek’s before kissing him softly.
“Already ahead of you, D.”
Discarding your skirt completely, you dropped it in Spencer’s laugh and planted a quick kiss to his lips before sauntering down the aisle of the plane, completely naked. Hotch glanced up when he caught the smell of your familiar perfume and looked at you with a halfhearted glare. All you could do was smile at the sight of his thick brows furrowed and the permanent scowl that he always seemed to wear. You both knew he couldn’t stay mad at you, and he didn’t even put up a fight when you made him lean back against his seat so you could sit on his lap.
“Why are you so mad baby, hm?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you ran one of your hands through his dark brown hair, giving a gentle tug at the root which earned a quiet grunt from him. As you leaned in to place featherlight kisses along his jaw, you could feel his body physically relax, as well as how much his hardened cock was straining against his pants. But despite the giveaways from his body, Hotch wouldn’t budge. He didn’t make a move to touch you, and he didn’t speak. He was always the hardest of the three to break, but you knew exactly where his weak points were.
“Oh, you don’t wanna talk, huh? That’s okay. I’d prefer to do something else with my mouth right now anyway.”
Gently biting down on his earlobe, you felt his thighs tense up beneath you and a quiet grunt sound from his chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. As you got off his lap, you slowly got down onto your knees in front of Hotch and unbuckled his belt. Since he was already in a sour mood, you decided to skip the teasing, and honestly you were so turned on yourself that you didn’t have the patience for it.
He was trying so hard not to give in while you were pulling the leather of his belt out of the buckle, and even as you were unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper, he was trying to appear completely unbothered while looking at the case files. But the second he felt your luscious lips wrap around the throbbing head of his cock that was slick with pre-cum, he completely lost it.
Letting his head fall back against the seat, he closed his eyes and his lips parted as he focused solely on the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue sliding against the underside of his sensitive tip. In that moment he completely forgot whatever he was mad about. Every single coherent thought in his head vanished, and all that was left was you.
You don’t mind when he slips his hand into your hair and grips at it roughly, or when he starts to push his hips upwards to seek out more. It was rare that Hotch ever gave in to his selfish desires, and you were all too eager to let him. The sight above you was one you wished you could frame. His dark brown hair was messy from you running your fingers through it and his eyes were peacefully screwed shut. There was a twinge of heat covering his cheeks, and his lips were parted further as heavy pants and soft whimpers escaped. Those little noises only make you want to steal more of them from the man that was normally so stoic and closed off.
All of a sudden, Hotch roughly pulled at your hair causing you to moan around him. He grunted while leaning down to slip his hands under your arms, pulling you up from your knees and shoving all the reports off the table in front of him carelessly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the table, and you immediately spread your legs wide for him to slot through. Without wasting another second, Hotch pulled you towards the edge of the table and easily slipped his thick cock inside your drenched pussy. Both of you moaned simultaneously at the contact, and he only faltered for a second before he started to aggressively snap his hips against yours.
Faintly, you can hear Derek whistling from the other side of the plane and the sound of him clapping as he calls out to Hotch.
“There he is. Come on, Hotch. Give us a show.”
When you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, Hotch wrapped one of his large hands around your throat and lightly squeezed. You can tell he’s still frustrated by the feral way he’s fucking you against the table, but you can feel just how badly he needs this release. Sneaking one of your hands down to play with your clit, you only get away with it for a few seconds before Hotch roughly smacks your hand away and tightens his grip on your throat. He replaces your hand with his own and starts to furiously rub quick circles over your sensitive clit, tearing a sharp moan from your chest. You can feel how close he is already by the way his rhythm starts to falter. When he speaks, his voice is so low and husky that it almost sounds like a growl.
“You insatiable little slut. You haven’t come enough already? You think you deserve to come again after the way you’ve been acting?”
“Aaron-”
“Shut up.”
The only thing you can hear over the obscene sound of Hotch’s thighs smacking against your ass with every powerful thrust and the lewd squelching of his cock disappearing over and over inside your tight cunt is the dark chuckle that sounded from Spencer before he spoke.
“Uh oh, someone pissed off Daddy.”
The way you moan Hotch’s name nearly has him combusting right there. When he starts to rub your clit harder, your jaw becomes unhinged and hangs open, but nothing comes out. You can’t speak, you can’t even make a sound. Hotch grunts as his pace becomes even more fervent and brutal. He was fucking you with everything he had, using your body to expel every ounce of pent up frustration, and you were already ascending into the clouds.
“You wanna come so fucking badly? Then do it.”
The tightening of your cunt around his cock sends both of you over the edge, and both of your moans seem to echo in the small space of the cabin. Hotch continues to fuck you wildly through his orgasm, gripping onto the edge of the table to steady himself. Once he starts to slow down after emptying himself inside of you completely, the blissed out smile that replaces the frown on his mouth makes you giggle, and it causes him to finally open his eyes and look down at you with an arch of his brow.
“What?”
“Better?”
Hotch just stares down at you for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes before he finally gives in, his lips parting into that wide grin that you love so much but rarely get to see. Taking a moment to catch his breath, a light chuckle leaves him as he gazes down at you with softer eyes this time and brushes your hair away from your face gently.
“You know, the whole point of me being your boss is you’re supposed to actually listen to me.”
“You of all people know I listen very well.”
The sultry tone of your voice and the implications behind it caused Hotch to smirk, and you can feel the effect it has when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against your own and gave your ass a light smack.
“When you’re being a good girl and not such a brat.”
A soft noise of surprise left your lips when he smacked your ass, and you giggled while grabbing his face in your hands to pull him in for a soft and slow kiss.
“I don’t hear you complaining.”
Rolling his eyes, Hotch reluctantly pulled out of you with a soft hiss and helped you down from the table. He ran one of his hands through his hair and took another deep breath before tucking his softened cock back into his pants.
“Alright, everyone back to work.”
“Wait, everyone got to fuck her but me, that’s not fair.”
Hotch glanced down at his watch on his wrist before looking over at Spencer, shooting him a pointed look when he caught the slight pout on Spencer’s lips.
“We’re landing in twenty minutes and we still need to prep.”
As Spencer began to protest, you walked over towards him and placed your hand on his chest, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t worry, Spence. I’ll share a room with you tonight, and you can fuck me all you want.”
Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas, but Derek and Hotch immediately began to protest as they shared a look before staring at the two of you with looks of frustration.
“Whoa whoa whoa-“
“That’s not-“
Spencer wrapped his arms around you to pull you in, bending down to kiss you deeply while grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze tightly causing you to giggle. He nipped at your bottom lip before turning to look at Hotch and Derek with a smug smirk.
“Don’t worry. Unlike you two, I know how to share. Maybe we can all have a slumber party.”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @avencol
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x f!reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner smut#derek morgan#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x female reader#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan x f!reader#derek morgan fic#derek morgan smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x f!reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut#aaron hotchner x you x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x female reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#aaron hotchner x f!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid#criminal minds
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Spencer Reid
Can we just admire how pretty bae is and how smart he is (don't ask why half of them are him sleeping shush)
He's so smart like bae ramble to me it's attractive
I've always had a thing for nerds and he just made is worse by existing, if i ever meet him or someone like him. I am not responsible for my actions
If this man ever told me to bark, i would no questions asked. It's bad.
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#f#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#Spotify
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Right Person, Wrong Time
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader, Sam Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.1k
Warnings: angst, marrying someone you're not in love with, feeling sad at your wedding
Summary: Spencer had half a decade to confess his feelings for you but never did. You moved on to someone who loves you for you, who treats you like a queen, and who takes care of you. Spencer has one more chance to tell you how he feels before you're married, but does he take it?
Square Filled: sam winchester (spnxcm crossover) for @fandombingo
Author’s Note: this is a supernatural x criminal minds crossover
x
This should be the happiest day of your life. You should be celebrating with your bridesmaids, drinking champagne, and having a good time together. They are, you aren’t. You’re standing on the small platform in front of the three-piece mirror staring at yourself in your wedding dress while your bridesmaids are sitting in the middle of the room having a good time.
JJ, Penelope, Emily, Charlie, Jo, and Eileen have no clue what you’re feeling right now. They expect happiness, happy tears, and being jittery for your upcoming wedding. Instead, you’re thinking about how you got here and if there was anything you could have done differently.
The man you’re marrying today isn’t the one you truly want to marry.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” JJ asks when she notices you staring into the void.
“Nothing,” you snap out of it. “Is everyone here?”
Since JJ is your maid of honor, she is in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly for you. She grabs the clipboard and looks over the roster.
“Spencer hasn’t checked in.”
That makes your heart twist painfully.
“Well, we can’t wait for him to show up. The show must go on!” Charlie declares, earning agreement from the other women.
Someone knocks on the door and Derek pops his head in.
“The music is starting. Time to go.”
All of your bridesmaids have one of your fiance’s groomsmen to walk down the aisle with. JJ is with Will, Penelope is with Kevin, Charlie is with Dean, Eileen is with Castiel, Jo is with Spencer, and Emily is with Derek. Spencer isn’t here to walk Jo down the aisle but she doesn’t seem all that worried.
“Don’t worry, I’ll go find Rossi,” she says and leaves the room.
Everyone shuffles out of the room to get ready but you stay where you are by the mirror. You’re marrying such an amazing man who loves you for you. You should be happy right now. Derek closes the door behind him and walks up behind you so he can look at you through the reflection.
“Are you doing okay?”
You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying. If there is anyone who knows how you’re feeling, it’s Derek. He’s your best friend. You tell him everything.
“Spencer isn’t here,” you whisper.
“No, no tears. You’re marrying Sam.”
“I know,” you nod.
You’d rather be marrying Spencer instead. For years, you’ve pined after Spencer. It started when you first got hired into the BAU and he showed you around for a whole week. He knew you had a thing for him even though you never outright told him you did. It was all in the little things you did for him like you’d make his coffee every morning, you’d compliment him more than the other ladies, you’d do anything to keep a smile on his face, and you’d bring him presents whenever you were thinking about him.
He never did anything with that information. He knew you had a thing for him but never made a move.
One day, you were working a case and ran into Sam and Dean Winchester who were on the same case but as hunters. Sam was the perfect gentleman and treated you with nothing but respect. He never did this before, but he asked for your number because he had to keep in touch with you even when he and Dean left for another case. At first, you were skeptical because you were so hung up on Spencer.
After the first date with Sam, you saw him as someone you could have feelings for. The more you went on dates with him, the more you started to like who he was as a person. Spencer still hadn’t made a move on you so what is the harm in moving forward with your relationship with such an amazing man?
After the first year, you allowed yourself to really love Sam. When Sam asked you to marry him, you had to say yes. Spencer was nowhere near confessing his feelings for you and you’re sick and tired of waiting for something that might happen. He loves you, he treats you like a queen, and you really do love him.
You’re just not in love with him. You’re in love with Spencer but the last thing you’re gonna do is tell him and Sam about this. If Spencer loved you in the way you did, he would have confessed to you a long time ago.
So, here you are on your wedding day and Spencer isn’t even here.
You prepare yourself and head to the double doors where your dad is patiently waiting for you. The bridesmaids and groomsmen have already walked down the aisle so now they’re all eagerly waiting for you.
“Are you ready?” your dad asks.
“More than ever.”
Your smile doesn’t quite reach your ears. The music starts and your dad walks you down the aisle. Sam smiles widely when he sees you, and his eyes hold so much love for you. It’s really unfair how you’re feeling. Sam is such an amazing man who loves you and you should be happy to marry him. You are but knowing Spencer isn’t here makes this less than what it is.
You meet Sam at the front of the altar and smile up at him. The minister begins the ceremony. It goes as smoothly as possible until he gets to the part where people can object.
“Speak now if you object, or forever hold your peace.”
You scan the room at all of your guests. All of them are happy you’re marrying someone you absolutely love. There in the back is Spencer who must have come in after the ceremony started. He’s watching you with red eyes like he’d been crying. You lock eyes with him and question if he’s going to say anything.
He doesn’t.
The minister moves on and finishes the ceremony quickly.
“Sam Winchester, you may now kiss the bride.”
Sam pulls you in and kisses you just as the entire room erupts in cheers. Everyone but Spencer claps happily for the newlywed couple. Everyone moves to the reception area to enjoy good food, good music, and each other’s company.
“Everyone, may I present to you, Sam and Y/N Winchester. Make way for the first dance.”
Everyone clears the dancefloor so you and Sam can have this special moment to yourselves. Sam pulls you in close and slow dances to the song you picked as “Your Song”. Sam twirls you in his arms and pulls you in close to his chest. You look up at him and smile widely to show him how happy you are with him.
You put your head on his chest and look by the snack table to see Spencer standing there watching you and Sam dance with such sad eyes. You quickly look away from him and enjoy the moment you’re in.
There’s a soulmate for everyone but sometimes not everyone gets to be with them.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#spencer reid f#sam winchester fanfic#spencer reid angst#sam winchester fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#criminal minds angst#supernatural fluff#cm#cm fanfiction#spn#spn fanfiction#cm angst#spn fluff
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let it out (let it in)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Summary: The lack of a tangible explanation for Spencer's migraines causes him to spiral. You're there to catch him when he's falling, whether he feels like he deserves that or not.
Word count: 1.7k
Contains: serious mental health talk. dismissal of mental health. hurt/comfort. brief conflict (non physical). consoling a distraught partner.
A/N: Psychosomatic pain is not a joke and is definitely a very real issue. It's not always the correct explanation, but sometimes it is. That doesn't make the pain or the manifesting condition any less real.
“Hey,” you smile, turning your head towards the front door as it closes. Spencer drops his satchel on the floor next to the couch, his dark sunglasses firmly pressed against his face as he makes his way to the kitchen.
“Another migraine?” you ask with a soft frown.
“Still a migraine,” he corrects you, opening the fridge and reaching for the pitcher of water.
“You see that doctor you got referred to?” you ask, closing the book on your lap and turning towards him. He nods as he pours himself a glass, taking a sip before placing the glass back onto the counter.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
The word comes out clipped, something you rarely encounter with him. In the time you’ve been dating him, he’s never once lost his temper, or been rude with you. Not after coming home from a long assignment, from seeing the most gruesome things you can’t even begin to wrap your head around.
Instead, he’ll come home and watch over your shoulder as you grade papers, pointing out incorrectly formatted references, inaccuracies in quotes and smile as he does, as if the activity is something he enjoys doing with you. Like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Spencer is soft, gentle in a way that had been foreign to you for a very long time until you no longer knew any different.
But you’ve never known him to be curt.
Until now.
“Well,” you softly say, getting up off the couch and walking into the kitchen, where you light a candle and turn the overhead light off. “That’s… weirdly good though, right? That there wasn’t anything on the scans.”
He takes off the sunglasses and places them on the table with a sigh. “There has to be something wrong. You don’t just get migraines like this.”
“Did he say anything else? The doctor?”
“No.”
Even in the dim candlelight, you can tell he’s squinting against the flickering flame, the dark circles under his eyes prominent.
“Nothing you can do to try and control them?”
“Reduce stress,” he grimaces. “Less caffeine.”
“Should be easy, then,” you joke, knowing that if he could replace oxygen with caffeine, he would. “No biggie.”
He sighs again, tightly squeezing his eyes shut before he opens them again.
“It’s still just light, right? Not sounds? I can turn the music off,” you say, vaguely gesturing to the living room where there’s a record playing at a low volume.
“It’s fine, dove. I’m fine.”
Spencer Reid is many things, and old fashioned is one of them. You never knew people used the word dove as an actual nickname, until he called you that for the first time. It had held nothing but tenderness before, but much like earlier, it felt clipped. Like he was angry and dismissing you, except you have no idea what you did.
You pause for a second, eyeing him up and down before speaking again. “I feel like I’m missing something here, Spence. Talk to me.”
“I said it’s fine.”
“Well, clearly it isn’t,” you say, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You’re being… not you. Something is off.”
“Would you stop babying me?” he snarls. “I said it’s fine. Back off.”
You stagger back a step in surprise, eyes wide. He immediately seems to regret himself.
“I’m sorry, dove. That’s unfair of me.”
“It is,” you agree quietly. “I just care about you. I want to help. That’s all.”
“I don’t need help,” he immediately shoots back. “I need another doctor, one that doesn’t imply I’m insane.”
“What?” you frown, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs. “I’m sure he didn’t tell you you’re insane, Spence.”
“He said there was nothing to see on the scans, and that the migraines are probably psychosomatic. That they’re made up.” He wipes a hand across his jaw, the tiredness etched deeply into his face.
“Spencer…” you softly say, eyeing him with worry. “You know that’s not what he meant.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “He read my file. They all do. They know the medical history, the fact that schizophrenia is hereditary. It’s the first thing they point to. I’m not like that, I’m not insane.”
“My love—” you start with a frown, but he cuts you off.
“There has to be a logical explanation. You don’t just get migraines.”
“Sometimes our brain just forces us to shut down, Spence. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you softly say. “Nobody will be mad if you need to take a step back.”
“I don’t need to take a step back!” he exclaims in frustration. “I don’t need that, I’m fine.”
You clench your jaw, taking a deep breath through your nose. “Spencer, I swear to you, there is nothing to be ashamed of in this scenario. Not a single thing.”
“I’m not insane, okay? I don’t have those issues. I’m fine.”
His jaw matches yours, all tight muscles and unspoken words lingered behind clenched teeth.
You get back up, taking a step towards him, looking up to meet his gaze. It breaks your heart to see his eyes sunken back into his skull, lined with dark circles that indicate more than just migraines. You could feel him tossing at night when he’s with you, fighting with whatever it is that’s haunting him.
It breaks your heart to know that he will hold you, all of you when it gets to be too much, when your brain shuts down and decided its had enough for the time being, but he won’t allow you in to return that favour.
You know what follows is unfair, but the words tumble out before you can stop them.
“Do you ever look at me and go actually, she’s wholly unlovable, Spencer? Do you look at me and ever think that my issues, my struggles make me less deserving of love? Are you punishing yourself by picking someone that’s not fully stable? Is that it?”
“Of course not!” he retorts, voice raised to a near yell. “Why would I ever think that? Why would you say that?”
“Because that’s what you’re saying,” you shoot back, brushing your hair back with a laugh.
“I’m not— “
“It’s what you’re saying about yourself, Spencer. You’re saying that your issues, your mental health doesn’t deserve attention. You’re so willing to give everything to everyone else, but you don’t even want to look in the mirror and grant that kid, that 12-year-old that finished high school that’s right in there,” you say, poking his chest. “You don’t want to hold his hand and tell him he’ll be fine. You’re saying he should just… figure it out. That it can’t be true that his brain is telling him it’s enough, that you need to breathe.”
“I’m not insane.”
“No, you’re not,” you agree. “But you have a BA in psychology. You know psychosomatic issues aren’t fake, they’re the way our body forces us to shut down when we don’t want to listen, Spencer. Nobody is saying you’re insane.”
“I’m not like my mom, okay? I know what mental illness looks like. I know what the signs are!” he exclaims, tugging at his hair. “I know—I know what to look for. I’m not insane.”
“Having to slow down and take a break doesn’t make you insane, my love,” you exasperate. “It doesn’t make you insane it in the slightest, it just forces you to realise you’re only human.”
“I’m not insane,” he repeats, his voice breaking. “I’m not.”
“Oh, sweet boy,” you whisper as you rush forward, immediately wrapping your arms around his waist as a sob wracks through his body.
You feel him wobble, his knees buckling under both literal and metaphorical weight of himself, and you hold him as you carefully sink to the kitchen floor, where he buries his face in the crook of your neck, heavily sobbing.
It aches to see him like this, so completely distraught, and you know there’s nothing you can do but rub soothing circles across his back and gentle rock him side to side, the same way you would a child.
The person that’s crying isn’t as much the adult you got to know, it’s the child that carries too much on his shoulders. That didn’t have anyone to take the weight from him and was left to carry it around for years and years on end.
“It’s okay,” you whisper. “It’s okay Spencer. Let it out. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
You don’t know how much time passes as you sit on your knees on the kitchen floor, cradling your boyfriend’s body close to your chest, keeping him safe from the world as he let out years of supressed tears.
Decades of keeping yourself standing eats away at you, and you often don’t realise it until there’s no foundation left to stand on.
You can only pray you’re there on time for him. For that foundation to still be salvageable with love and care, with taking a step back and allowing the time and space to restore it.
You hope, you think you are there on time. The migraines are the first warning signs to slow down. They’re not a final verdict.
His sobs die down, replaced by shuddering breaths.
Your shoulder is soaked, wet with tears and snot, and you couldn’t care less. Not when it’s Spencer.
“Will you let me help you? Please?” you softly ask, your hand cupping the back of his head, nails gently scratching his scalp.
“I don’t know how,” he whispers back, voice hoarse. You huff out a soft laugh, and he does the same. “I don’t say that very often,” he admits. His embrace loosens, and he sits back on his heels, looking at you. “Thank you.”
“I love you,” you remind him with a soft smile. “All of you. Even the dark and scary corners you think I won’t. Even if there’s a hiccup along the road.”
“I love you too,” he replies. A beat passes before he speaks again. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
You shrug. “One day at a time.”
“One day at a time,” he agrees.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x f!reader
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The Send Off (18+)
f!reader x aaron hotchner x spencer reid
summary: you’re an agent who worked with the BAU team recently, and they just couldn’t give you a more better goodbye than this
warnings: pussy eating, threesome, nervous Spencer, cock warming, oral (male receiving), minor spanking
“M..mpf”
your back arched as your face sinked deeper into Spencer’s lap. you were doing your best- holding on to that pool in your stomach that so desperately wanted to burst.
“That’s it..” Hotch’s voiced cooed from behind your twitching hips, “you’re being so good, aren’t you? Reid, tell her she’s being a good girl.” you whimper as his tongue entered you once more. Spencer, who was fully clothed against your cheek, shuddered. His face was red and his hands shook while he entangled his hands in your curly hair. “Yes..You’re a-a good girl.”
Hotch had you cuffed from behind, your ass in the air while he devoured your sex. Spencer, in front. He was nervous- Hotch said to give him time, you wondered if it was the first time they’ve fucked together. Hotch’s tongue fucked you so good…
“ah…F-Fuck” you cry out, Hotch seeming to press deeper into you. You felt Spencer’s hand leave your hair, his steady breath reassuring you. Your eyes stare up at him, best you can, while he unbuckled his pants. His cock strange free and hit you right on the cheek, hard and leaking. You felt your sex clench around Hotch’s tongue at the sight (earning quite the chuckle from him).
“Look at that cock…he’s beautiful isn’t he baby?” Hotch gave your ass a small spank while he planted kisses on your folds. “Yes…so beautiful.” you murmur. Spencer angles himself best he could before grabbing your chin. How you hated being cuffed and helpless..though you loved their complete dominance over your body. Being tongue fucked and eaten out like Hotch’s job depended on it, and Spencer Reid’s cock in your mouth while he let out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard.
His his thrusted cautiously, but you could tell he wasn’t holding on very much longer. He gripped your hair while his cock touched the back of your throat. “So warm..” Spencer moaned, “So good for me”
Hotch pulled back, his fingers replacing his tongue. You shivered and shut your eyes tight. They enjoyed your body…it felt like heaven, a proper send off from helping them so well.
“Feels so good..” Spencer muttered, he groaned softly into the air as he rutted into your mouth. Your hips moved against Hotch’s fingers while he watched you both in lust. You moaned around Spencer’s cock, your hips getting restless. You wanted to…
Spencer’s movements sped up, him fully into your mouth. You choked every now and then but he didn’t stop- you taste the leaking pre cum on your tongue. It made you so wet..
“Look at that my sweet girl..you can’t hold it can you?” You could hear the smirk in Hotch’s voice while his fingers inched deeper into your sex, hands coated with slik. “F-…Mhm”
your eyes felt heavy. your body going slack against the both of them. You hear Spencer choke out a moan before the seed flowed into your mouth. Your whole body exploded- your orgasm hitting you hard.
“Good girl..let it out” Hotch rubbed your back soothingly, Spencer still rutting into your mouth, making sure you swallowed everything.
#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotchreid#reid#spencer reid#sub spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#hotch x reader smut#criminal minds#mgg x reader#spencer reid x reader#aaron hotch#mgg#aaron hotch x spencer reid#f reader
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