FHFJDJDDJJDJDKDJDJDKDLSOFU AT JCJH Sorry Just Smashed My Head Against The Keyboard Oops 🧍‍♀️

Spencer and reader get stuck in the cold weather while on a case, and after Spencer rambles about body heat being a good source of warmth (or a similar fact); reader suggests testing that theory

oh i really liked this ask 😭 i always love writing for things i havent before! i actually thought id already posted this but i found it in my drafts

cw; 18+ mdni!! needy!spencer, softdom!spence if you squint, sexy science puns, lots of heavy petting, dry humping, fingering

The cold was unforgiving. It bit through every layer of clothing, sinking into your bones with a chill that felt almost personal. You wrapped your arms around yourself, blowing into your hands as you glanced at the snow-covered road stretching endlessly ahead. The SUV sat uselessly on the shoulder, engine dead, and the faint crackle of your radio confirmed that the rest of the team was still hours away.

Spencer stood a few feet away, pacing in a tight circle to keep his blood moving. His long coat whipped slightly in the wind, and his hair, unkempt from hours in the field, fell into his face. He pushed it back absently, his gloved fingers trembling slightly from the cold. His breath puffed in front of him like small, fleeting clouds.

“We’re going to freeze out here,” you muttered, your teeth chattering as you hugged yourself tighter.

Spencer paused mid-step and looked at you, his brows knitting together in concern. “Not necessarily,” he began, his voice wavering slightly from the chill but still steady enough to deliver one of his signature facts. “The human body has remarkable thermoregulatory mechanisms. For instance, shivering is a natural response designed to generate heat through muscle activity.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking despite the cold. “Not sure shivering is going to cut it, Reid.”

He blinked, his face taking on that familiar, earnest expression as he shifted gears. “Well, there is another method that’s proven to be highly effective in conserving warmth. Sharing body heat—specifically, skin-to-skin contact—can significantly reduce the risk of hypothermia. It’s a technique commonly used in survival situations.”

You stared at him for a beat, then let out a short laugh that fogged the air between you. “Skin-to-skin, huh?”

His eyes widened slightly, and he stumbled over his words, his hands flailing in a nervous gesture. “I-I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, not like that—just, you know, from a purely biological standpoint. It’s logical.”

You couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips, despite the fact that your face was half-frozen. “Relax, Spencer. I’m not accusing you of anything. You’ve got a good point.”

His head tilted slightly, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to decide whether or not you were teasing him.

“I’m serious,” you said, stepping closer and gesturing toward the SUV. “Let’s test that theory. Unless you’ve got another way to keep us from turning into popsicles out here?”

He froze for a second, his cheeks turning pink—not just from the cold, you noted. “Oh. Uh… okay. Yes. That—that makes sense.”

You led the way back into the SUV, grateful for even the limited shelter it provided. Spencer followed, his movements stiff and hesitant as if he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed to be there. You shrugged off your heavy coat, setting it aside, and gestured for him to do the same.

He hesitated, his hands hovering near the buttons of his coat. “You’re sure about this?”

You rolled your eyes, though your tone was light. “Unless you want to freeze out there alone, yes, I’m sure.”

Spencer nodded quickly, shedding his coat and draping it over the seat. His movements were deliberate, precise, as though he were calculating every step.

“You know, this is purely for survival,” you teased as you slid onto the backseat.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice a touch too high-pitched to be convincing.

Settling beside him, you turned to face him fully. “So, how does this work, Doctor?”

“Well,” he began, his tone shifting into that of a lecture despite the awkwardness in his posture, “the idea is to maximize surface area contact to facilitate heat transfer. The skin is an effective medium for conduction, and by—”

“Spencer,” you interrupted, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “Just hold me.”

His lips parted in a silent “oh,” and he nodded, his cheeks darkening further as he opened his arms. Tentatively, you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. His body was lean and sharp beneath the layers, and his arms wrapped around you with a hesitance that made your heart squeeze.

“Warmer already,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you pressed closer.

He let out a nervous laugh, his breath brushing the top of your head. “That’s… good. It means the method is working.”

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, save for the faint sound of his breathing and the occasional rustle of clothing. Gradually, his grip on you became more secure, his hands resting lightly on your back. You could feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek—quick and irregular, as though he were nervous.

“You’re like a walking space heater,” you teased softly, breaking the quiet.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of his usual matter-of-fact tone. “The human body only generates a limited amount of heat—around 100 watts at rest, give or take. It’s not comparable to a—”

“Spencer,” you said again, a laugh bubbling up despite yourself. “I was joking.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He cleared his throat, and you could practically feel the embarrassment radiating off him.

You tilted your head to look up at him, finding his gaze already on you. His brown eyes were wide, soft, and filled with something that made your stomach flip—curiosity, vulnerability, and a hint of awe.

“It’s okay. I like when you ramble. Especially when you get all excited about sciencey stuff.” Your voice was soft, meant to soothe, and you tilted your head to meet his gaze. The small smile you offered was an invitation, a reassurance that he hadn’t overstepped. “In fact, it’s one of my favorite things about you.”

The effect of your words was immediate. Spencer blinked rapidly, his expressive brown eyes widening as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. His eyebrows shot up, almost vanishing beneath the tousled strands of his hair. He opened his mouth as if to speak but hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a hard swallow.

“Oh,” he finally managed, his voice unsteady. “I, uh... thanks.”

You could see the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, the way his eyes darted to the side, searching for an anchor in a moment that felt too big for him. Your heart ached at his reaction, and without thinking, you raised a hand to rest your palm gently on his chest. The warmth of him seeped into your skin, and you felt the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your touch.

The muscles beneath your hand tensed slightly, a reflexive reaction, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on yours, his vulnerability laid bare in the way he held his breath. You let your fingers drift upward, brushing over the edge of his collarbone and the sensitive skin at the base of his neck. The movement was slow, deliberate, meant to ground him.

Spencer’s breath hitched audibly, a faint gasp escaping his parted lips. His wide eyes flickered back to meet yours, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you, the snowy storm outside fading into insignificance.

“Y/n?” His voice was barely a whisper, your name fragile and questioning on his tongue.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. The sound he made in response—a soft, involuntary whimper—sent a ripple of warmth through your chest. His lips parted slightly against yours, his breath mingling with your own, and you could feel the way his body trembled ever so slightly under your touch.

The kiss deepened by degrees, slow and exploratory, as if neither of you wanted to rush the moment. His hand came up tentatively to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. There was a sweetness to his touch, a kind of reverence that made your chest tighten with affection.

When you finally broke the kiss, you stayed close, your foreheads nearly touching. Spencer’s breathing was uneven, and his eyes were dark, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.

“I like when you ramble,” you murmured again, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw. “It’s one of the things that makes you, you. And I love that.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his lashes fluttering as he looked down at you. “I... don’t think anyone’s ever said something like that to me before.”

“Then it’s about time someone did,” you said, your voice firm with conviction.

His lips curved into the smallest of smiles, shy and a little uncertain, but so genuine it made your heart squeeze. You leaned up to kiss him again, this time lingering a little longer, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

“Tell me something scientific,” you murmured, your voice muffled as you turned your face into the curve of his neck. Your lips found the soft spot beneath his ear, and you pressed a gentle kiss there, feeling the slight shiver that ran through him.

Spencer cleared his throat, his voice a little uneven as he obliged. “Humans have a remarkable capacity to generate warmth through muscle activity. For example, shivering alone can increase your metabolic rate by up to ten times.”

“That’s interesting,” you hummed against his skin, the vibration making him swallow hard. Your lips trailed lower, brushing against the tender skin of his throat before settling at the hollow where his pulse beat steadily. You kissed him there, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his breath hitched. “Do you know what else can generate warmth?”

For a moment, Spencer froze, his body stiffening slightly in your embrace. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight, and the single word seemed to catch in his throat. “Uh... friction?”

You grinned against his neck, the curve of your smile pressing into his skin. “That’s a good one.”

His exhale came out in a shaky mix of a laugh and a gasp, his nerves and amusement intertwining. “You- you think so?”

Shifting beneath him, you arched your back just enough to press your hips against him, and the reaction was immediate. Spencer groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your chest as you undulated again, slow and deliberate. “I really do,” you clarified, your tone teasing as you moved against him.

Spencer dropped his forehead to your shoulder, letting out a low chuckle tinged with exasperation. “God, Y/n. You’re ridiculous.”

“Hey, I learned from the best,” you shot back, your grin widening as you tightened your grip around him. The warmth of his body against yours was intoxicating, every slight movement feeding the growing tension between you.

He lifted his head, his expression softer now, his gaze locking onto yours. Without hesitation, he kissed you, his lips tentative but sweet as they met yours. “And I learned from you,” he murmured against your mouth, the words carrying a weight that made your chest ache. “Everything.”

His kiss deepened as he spoke, his tongue slipping past your lips to meet your own in a slow, intoxicating dance. “Everything,” he repeated, his voice husky as he pulled back just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “Including this.”

Spencer rolled his hips against you, the hard length of him dragging against your center with a pressure that made your toes curl. The friction was maddening, delicious, and you gasped into his mouth, your hands clutching at his back as you arched against him.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Spencer whispered, the confession raw and unguarded. Despite his words, he didn’t stop moving, his rhythm steady and almost instinctual. “I just—fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at your heart, the mix of lust and affection swelling in your chest until it felt like you might burst. “You could never mess this up,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as your fingers traced the lines of his spine. “Spencer, I—”

The words faltered on your tongue, the depth of your feelings too overwhelming to articulate. How could you possibly express how much you cared for him, how long you’d admired him, how deeply you craved this closeness? The enormity of it all made your throat tighten, the emotions too big and too raw to put into words.

So instead, you kissed him. You poured everything you couldn’t say into the press of your lips against his, hoping he would feel the depth of your emotions in the way your hands held him, in the way your body pressed against his, in the way your heart beat wildly in sync with his own.

Spencer's fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his palm tentative but burning hot against your side. His touch was so light it sent a shiver skittering down your spine, and your breath caught in your throat as he hesitated. “Can I...?”

“Spencer.” You reached down to capture his hand, guiding it higher and pressing it firmly against the flat of your stomach. “You don’t have to ask.”

He exhaled shakily, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, there was a hunger in his kiss that hadn’t been there before, an urgency that made your pulse race. His other hand found its way to your chest, and he palmed you through your bra, his movements still cautious but full of intent. “I want to be good at this,” he murmured, his voice low and raw against your lips.

You arched your hips into his, the movement slow and deliberate, eliciting a sharp gasp from him when his cock dragged against your clit. “You already are,” you whispered, your words a mix of reassurance and pure honesty.

He pulled back slightly, his lips parting as he searched your face. His gaze was soft but piercing, filled with a vulnerability that made your chest ache. “Really?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Yeah.” You swallowed hard, your throat tightening with the weight of your emotions. “You’re perfect.”

The corners of his mouth lifted into a small, almost bashful smile, his face softening at your words. His gaze drifted downward, his lashes dark against his skin as he took in the sight of your bodies pressed together. “You are, too,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your heart stutter.

Without warning, Spencer pushed himself up, his hands bracketing your hips as he knelt between your legs. His fingers fumbled at his belt, his brow furrowing in concentration as he worked to undo it. After a moment of struggling, he gave up with a quiet huff, opting instead to slide a hand into his jeans. When he began stroking himself, his lips parted on a soft, unbidden moan, and your stomach clenched at the sight.

The way his hand moved, slow and deliberate, combined with the way his jaw tightened and his breath came in ragged gasps—it was intoxicating. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, your mouth watering as you imagined replacing his hand with your own, with your mouth. You wanted to feel him, taste him, make him lose himself in you.

“Spencer—” you breathed, the single word thick with want.

But before you could finish your thought, he was shifting back down, his body settling against yours as his lips found your neck. “I want you to get off on me,” he whispered, his voice rough and urgent against your skin. His mouth trailed along your jawline, the light scrape of his teeth sending sparks of heat through you. “Is that okay?”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped, your hands finding purchase on his hips. You dragged him closer, your fingers digging into the firm muscle of his ass to pull him against you.

The friction was delicious, the slow roll of his hips against yours making your head spin. The heat of him, the weight of him, the low, breathy sounds he made—it was almost too much and yet not enough all at once. You tilted your head back, offering him more of your neck as you ground against him, losing yourself in the rhythm of his body against yours.

Spencer gasped as your hips rocked up against his, the friction of his cock sliding over your clit drawing a soft moan from you. The two of you found a rhythm, slow and deliberate, your bodies moving in perfect sync. Each roll of his hips sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins, the growing pressure between your thighs impossible to ignore. His hardness rubbed against you with each motion, his movements unpracticed yet intoxicatingly eager.

He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breath hot and erratic against your skin. His groan was low and guttural, the sound vibrating through you as his body tensed. You couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips in response, your hands sliding up his back to hold him closer.

He felt incredible like this—hot, hard, and trembling with need in your arms. You pressed a lingering kiss to his temple, feeling the dampness of his hairline as you drew back to take in his face. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted, and his eyes... God, his eyes. They met yours, dark and stormy with a desperate hunger that made your breath catch.

“What do you want?” you asked softly, your voice steady despite the hammering of your heart.

Spencer’s gaze didn’t waver. “You,” he breathed, his tone raw and unguarded. “I want you.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, high-pitched and giddy with affection and desire. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the sharp angle of his cheekbone. “You’ve got me, Spencer.”

His eyes fluttered shut as you rocked your hips against him again, drawing a sharp inhale from his lips. His voice was rough with longing when he spoke, barely more than a whisper. “I know. I want—I want to...” He trailed off, his brow furrowing in frustration as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

You leaned in, your lips grazing his forehead before trailing down to his ear. “Tell me,” you murmured, your voice soft and coaxing. “Whatever it is, Spencer. Tell me.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing against your lips as he searched for the words. His breaths were shallow and uneven, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and ragged. “I want—fuck. I just want to make you feel good.” He exhaled sharply, his hand sliding between your bodies to cup you through your underwear. His palm pressed against your cunt, tentative but deliberate, and your breath hitched in response.

“I want to feel you come,” he continued, his words spilling out in a rush. His fingers twitched against you, his touch gentle but insistent. “Is that—can I—fuck—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your lips capturing his in a heated press that said everything words couldn’t. His hand flexed against you, and when you rocked against him, a strangled moan tore from his throat. You felt his hesitation melt away as his fingers pressed more firmly, his eagerness making up for any lack of experience.

“Yes,” you breathed against his lips, your hips moving in time with his touch. “Yes, Spencer. Please.”

The desperation in your voice seemed to spur him on, his confidence growing with every gasped moan and whispered plea that fell from your lips. His movements were clumsy but earnest, his need to please you shining through in every stroke and press of his hand. It was intoxicating, the way he gave himself to you so completely, so openly.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, your breaths coming faster as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. “Spencer,” you gasped, your voice breaking on his name. “I’m—God, I’m so close—”

His response was immediate, his free hand sliding to your hip to hold you steady as he pressed harder, his movements matching the rhythm of your hips. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice shaking with both nerves and determination. “Let go. Please, I want to feel it.”

And when you did—when the tension snapped and a wave of pleasure crashed over you—it was his name that spilled from your lips in a cry, his hands anchoring you as you trembled in his arms. Spencer held you through it, his own breaths ragged and uneven, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered your name like a prayer.

re fucking tweet.

i want mgg to make a magic trick where he makes my underwear disappear

eddie : hey, pass me my keys.

richie : *throws printer*

eddie : i said, pass me my keys.

richie : i thought you said printer!

eddie : why the fuck would i say printer?

RAHHHHHH BREEDING KINK GO BRRRRR

Love You More

As newlyweds, you and Spencer can’t hold back the urges of wanting each other at all times [ 6k ]

Includes female reader; husband Spencer, kinda unit chief Spencer if you’d like; smut (+18): phone sex; p in v unprotected sex; breeding kink; reader is loud and talkative; (and so is he); a bit rough but still sweet and domestic and fluffy bc am who I am; multiple orgasms; after care; discussing baby names; brief infertility talk; Diana and reader are besties. did I mention how domestic this is?

Totally self indulgent but also this is my appreciation post to the lovely @reidgif thank you Eva for always blessing us with the best Spence gifs to ever exist <33 we love you and appreciate you tons mwaahhh💋

A framed picture of you sat on his desk.

Your happiness radiated through and made him smile every time he looked at it, taking him back to that day so vividly—when he asked you to be his girlfriend, three years ago. You’d captured that moment on your phone without him noticing. (He rarely noticed anything around him when he was with you). It was the hug right after you said yes to his question—chin tucked over his shoulder and your smile slightly covered by a few pieces of his hair that flowed with the salty beach breeze. The beach has turned into one of his favorite places on earth since then. 

Now, as newlyweds, he thought of updating your picture, or finding a companion piece for it, and framing one of you from the day he asked you to marry him, to keep the tradition going. If he did that, though, he would also have to find one to put there from the day you got married, which could end up looking like an altar of you.

That wouldn’t be too bad considering he had his own office now. The shelves behind him were still pretty empty.

Spencer sighed as he glanced at your smile for another second, then went back to his paperwork. He flipped through endless pages, and his wedding band flashed under the lamplight every time.

“Still not used to it, huh?” Luke’s voice entered the office.

Spencer glanced up just to find Alvez leaning on the door frame, his eyes glancing down at Spencer’s hand. Only then he noticed he’d been rolling his ring with his thumb. 

“Yeah,” Spencer merely breathed out, rolling the ring once again.

“I meant the office,” Luke chuckled as he stepped in and looked around, one hand tucked in his pocket while with the other he adjusted his backpack’s strap over his shoulder. “Still a bit empty.”

“Garcia said she was gonna take care of it while I’m on my honeymoon, so it won’t be like this for too long.” Spencer gave him a tight-lipped smile as he nodded.

“Now that’s gonna be interesting,” Luke softly laughed. “Where are you guys going?”

“Uh, Spain,” Spencer said with amusement.

“Huh,” Luke smirked. “It was her decision, wasn’t it?”

“Like everything else, pretty much.” Spencer’s cheeks flushed. He was happy with anything as long as it made you happy.

“Well, let me know if you need some Spanish classes, te puedo enseñar algunas palabras.”

Spencer quirked his brows. His Rs were much slurred than Luke’s, but he still tried. “Gracias?”

Luke frowned his lips as in not bad, then added, “Alright, just wanted to stop by and say goodnight before heading out. You should go, too. You have a wife at home.”

Yes, he did, but unfortunately…

“I still have a few more things to do.” Spencer waved Luke goodbye.

A single ding coming from Spencer’s pocket got his attention. It was your signature message sound, so he squeezed his phone out without a second thought.

It was time for a short break, anyway.

Y/n (wife) sent a video

Spencer smiled before opening the message, bringing his mug with steaming coffee to his lips. He was waiting to see your beautiful face with one of your usual reports about how the remodeling of the house was going. He had to admit, he felt guilty that he couldn’t be there and work on it too, but Morgan offered to help (since the house was one of his few remodeling projects), so you weren’t entirely on your own on this.

The preview was blurry, and what started playing was not what he expected.

At all.

Your hand—the one with the wedding band—massaged your bare left breast and ended with you tweaking your nipple and stretching it out.

The video lasted just five seconds, yet it was enough for his body to react almost immediately. Blood rushed to his cheeks, neck, and groin in an instant.

All while he spilled some coffee over his lap, choked on his last sip, and coughed most of it all over his paperwork.

“Shit,” he barely managed to breathe out between more short hitched coughs.

Ding!

Y/n (wife): Are you coming home soon? I miss you :(

God, you were the death of him.

He glanced down at his pants, then at the open door, and rushed to close it—lock it—and drew down the blinds.

His phone rang. 

Y/n (Wife) is calling…

His thumb hovered over the green button until the third ring as he cleared out his throat to speak properly.

Still, his voice came out tight and slightly panicked. “You can’t just do that.” 

Your devilish and adorable laugh tickled his ear.

“Hi, handsome. Did you like it?”

“Y-yeah, of course I liked it.” He cleared his throat yet again. He was madly obsessed with you. ”You look, god, you’re so beautiful, but I’m at work, wha-what if someone else saw it?!”

“I’d say they’re very lucky because one of those can be very expensive.”

As soon as he heard your tone, his demeanor changed, and his choked-up breathing came back to normal. He glided his fingers through the blinds just enough to peek outside.

Everyone was gone, so there was no need to panic, yet he said, “Stop it.”

And you completely ignored him. “Where are you now?” 

“My office.” He matched your tone.

“Look at you, so official now. I should surprise you one of these days so we can fuck on your desk,” you said and the mere thought of doing that fueled something in him. ”Would you bend me over and fuck me from behind?”

He didn’t answer right away as the image of him doing exactly what you’d said popped into his head. He’d love that, actually, sweeping everything out of his desk, bending you over, spreading your legs open as he undid his belt, dragging your pants down to your ankles…

“You know I’d much rather see your face,” he said. “And kiss your pretty mouth while we fuck.”

Every time, he let you know how much he enjoyed seeing every single expression of yours as he plunged into you.

Let me see your face

God, you’re beautiful

Show me your smile

There she is

“Is that a yes, then?” You challenged him.

Spencer paced toward his desk and leaned on it, facing the door just in case. “I can’t promise you we’ll fuck because you’re so loud.” He smiled to himself. “You could get me in trouble, but we can definitely do something, yeah.” 

“Would it be okay if I showed up one of these days unannounced?”

“So many questions,” he said through a soft laugh, almost to himself, then continued, “I, uh, yeah. Yes, you can always visit me. Whenever you want, just… don’t forget the condoms. We don’t want to get messy here. And I don’t think it would be appropriate if I kept some in my drawer.”

“And if I forget them on purpose?”

“You’ll have to use your mouth to get rid of the evidence,” he responded without hesitation.

You’d polished this side of him. So openly unbrazen to say out loud all of his darkest thoughts. 

Your provocative yet shy laugh softened him everywhere. “I’d be happy to.”

“I know you would.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d teased him during working hours, but it usually was when he was away for a few days and when you knew he was alone in a hotel room where he could peacefully take care of himself. And since the first time you did it, he learned what you liked and why you did it. You were frustrated, and you missed him and needed him to help you get off in one way or another. 

“Was that a recent video?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you think I pre-record videos?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should.” He teased you. “Are you still naked?”

“Mmm, almost. I’m wearing one of your shirts.”

Of course, you were, and you sounded so needy.

“Would you do something for me?” He reached for the picture at his desk and turned it so it’d face him. There was your smile. Your so beautiful smile that lit up every place you walked into. Even the most somber corners of his mind.

“Mhm.”

“Where are you now?” He asked, just to picture you better.

“Couch. Watching a movie.”

“Turn the volume down.”

The background sounds faded, and then it was just you, your breathing, and him.

“I wanna… talk to you about something.”

He didn’t, but his focus on finishing his paperwork was wholly gone, and since you became a part of his life, he promised himself you’d be at the top of his list, always. So he had to distract you to gain some time and get home as soon as possible because you needed him.

“Oh, okay?” 

“Remember the last time we fucked on our couch?” He asked.

He sandwiched his phone between his shoulder and ear and was quiet to gather his things—the reports he was now going to finish at home.

“You mean last night?”

“Last night, yeah,” he sweetly replied.

Last night was glorious. You’d decided to take the next step. Or at least, put a tentative date about when you could start trying to get pregnant. He still refused to finish inside you (despite you being on birth control), but he fucked you with the idea of beginning a family with you at that exact moment.

You had moaned his name until your mouth went dry and came around his cock four times. 

You just… Couldn’t. Stop. Coming.

He could still feel the ghost of your throbbing cunt around him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget last night.” You sighed.

Everything he needed was inside his messenger bag, so Spencer locked his office from the outside and hurriedly strolled to the elevator as he kept talking. “Me neither.”

“I… touched myself when I woke up this morning without you, you know, thinking about last night.”

“You did?” Spencer said before putting himself on mute for a moment just before the elevator dinged open. He entered it and pressed the button that would take him to the parking garage.

“I don’t know what it is, but every time you’re away I… I touch myself thinking about you…” Your voice was shy as you continued to tell him about your fantasy. He was two floors away from his stop. “Baby? You still there?”

Come on, come on, he muttered to himself, staring at the changing numbers.

2

1

-1

Yes!

“Even after we started dating,” he spoke immediately, sliding between the opening doors, then muted himself again. He took long, long steps toward his car, and after he swiftly got in, he turned the key. He hoped the purr inside wasn’t too loud as he put you on speaker.

“Oh, god, yes,” your voice filled the air of his car, and he already knew this was going to be a fun ride home.

“You’ve never told me that before.” He replied once he unmuted himself for good and started his journey back to you. He gripped the steering wheel tight. 

“I know. I… I would even touch myself thinking of you, come with you in my mind before our dates.”

So he didn’t imagine that scent when he kissed your knuckles on those first dates. It drove him crazy—your pheromones—and forced him to jerk off as soon as he got home. 

He hadn’t confessed that to you yet. But maybe it was time.

“That’s— wow, I didn’t know that.” He stopped at a red light and took the chance to untighten his pants by the crotch. Blood had been rushing through his erection since the video you sent him, and the more you talked… it just kept on growing. 

“I know, crap, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I thought it could be hot, but now I’m mortified.” You muffled yourself against something. “Why do you sound weird? Distant. Am I on speaker?”

“No! No, just… bad signal.” He swept your thoughts away. He couldn’t let you feel this way when he’d done the exact same. “What if I told you I did the same thing?” Your reply was a sigh. “Not before our dates but definitely after. I- I would picture you there in my bed, or in the shower, and I just… had to.”

You said something out of breath, then, “And you looked so innocent.” 

Spencer smirked to himself. “I never was.”

“Yeah, I know, you proved it to me. Many times.” Your smile was so present through those words… “Would you tell me how you did it? What… you did?”

His mind went straight to the first time he did it, and he had no trouble telling you all about it.

“It was… after our second date,” he confessed, then went on, in no hurry, as he kept on driving. “The night of our first kiss. When we agreed to take things slowly yet you still sat on my lap to kiss me. And we kissed, all night, just to kiss each other. You tangled your fingers in my hair, and I hoped you couldn’t feel how hard your kisses made me. How all of you had me. It was a cold night, but it felt like summer inside. I- I still feel awful for not staying that night as you’d asked me to, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to have you like that, but then, when I got home, I got in the shower and my mind went somewhere. A moment we hadn’t had yet but knew would happen eventually. I pictured you there with me, and I was already hard but wanting you there with me…” he trailed off as he heard you curse under your breath. 

“Keep going, baby,” you said, and he smirked. 

So he kept going. 

“I… hesitated at first. You were the one good thing happening to me at that time, and I didn’t want to… stain you by objectifying you, but before I knew it, I was stroking myself. And it felt good. So good,” he almost whispered. 

He was good at this. He knew he was so he kept going, telling you all about that first time he touched himself thinking about you. 

The usual fourteen-minute quiet drive turned into 9 minutes of not-so-usual dirty talking, and soon, he was walking through the door of his home with the phone call still ongoing.

It smelled brand new. Like paint and wood and incense. 

You were supposed to be here on the first floor, in the living room, but you must’ve moved to the bedroom at some point because he didn’t find you there.

“…my god, f-fuck.” Your heavy breathing echoed between his ear and phone.

You’d given him a clear sign that you’d finished one time already—sweet, sweet moans filled his car a few minutes ago, and he had to make a quick stop at the side of the road or else he would’ve crashed—and now you were going for a second one. And he was right there to help you through it. 

From the empty living room, he heard your blissful noises and he followed them upstairs, bewitched by your voice. 

The call remained ongoing, but his phone was long forgotten in his pocket. Your harsh breathing was closer and closer with each step, and once he reached the bedroom, he stayed by the door. Inside his home, he allowed himself to be like this: a pervert, sometimes, he admitted. But it’s what you liked and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this, too.

The door was cracked open, and he peeked through to delight himself with the view. He had to muffle a long sigh, but his face flickered with immediate pleasure. Brows melting, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, nostrils flared ever so slightly.

There you were, lying on your stomach in the middle of the bed, naked from the waist down with his shirt riding up your back as if you’d stopped yourself from taking it off, legs spread open and a pillow between them. You were grinding it in perfect, short and controlled rocking motions. Back and forth. Side to side.

You whimpered against the mattress. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come again I—“

His cock throbbed. Jolted inside his pants, and his hand went there to calm the swelling.

“I need you so badly,” you breathed out. “So, so—“ your hips stuttered and began to roll and rub against the pillow until you released all the pleasure you’d been building.

Shit, he muttered to himself. 

He needed you, too. 

Reaching for his phone without tearing his eyes off you, he murmured, “You do?” quietly enough, pushing the door open with one finger and putting one foot inside, then another,  as he walked inside stealthily like the perfect intruder. 

He didn’t want to scare you, but also didn’t want to spoil the surprise, so he remained out of your possible eye range, by the end of the bed, and god, this point of view was so much better. You were something else like this. So immersed in your pleasure that you still hadn’t heard him coming inside.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, now loud enough for you to hear. 

But you didn’t. You were drowning in bliss; your hips never lost rhythm, riding the pillow, and your eyes remained closed, a slight frown over your brows and an exquisite smile.

That sight. He needed to fuck you right there. 

Without a second thought he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants with one hand while he stretched his other arm and reached for your ass, giving your right ass cheek a tight squeeze to finally let you know he was there. 

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered open, ready to stand up and fight whoever came here without a warning, but the moment you realized it was him—

“Baby,” you breathed out and let your body fall onto the bed with relief. “I thought– I– my heart almost gave out.” You then laughed a little.

Spencer walked to your side, leaned to kiss your temple and squeezed your ass one more time, murmuring in your ear, “Hi sweetheart, stay right there for me, yeah? Don’t move.”

All you did was nod. Willing to let him handle you however the fuck he wanted.

He took off all of his clothes right there and settled on the bed behind you, with his knees at either side of your hips, stroking his still growing erection to become fully hard when entering you.

You adjusted the pillow underneath you for support to keep your hips up and wiggled your ass onto him, using your hands to spread your cheeks open for him. 

So damn inviting.

“Jesus Christ.” He stared and gulped and kept staring, and his mouth watered. 

You were so ready for him. Wet and puffy. But he tortured himself for a moment, and instead of slipping his cock right in, he let it hover over your ass, smacking each cheek with it persistently, creating a sinful sound in the dimly lit up room. 

These bed lamps were new.

“Spencer, baby, please.” You lifted your ass towards him and blindly reached for his erection, but he pinned your hand close to your hip. You closed it into a defeated fist.

It was time to torture you now and let the tip of his cock simmer between your folds. Nestled there. Slippery and warm and soft. His hips stuttered instinctively and he almost slipped in, the gentle squeeze of the entrance of your cunt giving him a loving kiss. 

Always looking down, Spencer decided there was no point in holding back anymore and slowly–so very slowly–pushed his hips forward, delighting himself with the view of his cock being swallowed up. His gaze flickered up at your face then, that gorgeous needy face, and kept his eyes trained on you until he was fully inside. You angled your face toward your shoulder, shooting him a glance through fluttering lashes and a drunken smile. 

You bit your lip. “I think ‘m gonna come already, f–uck.” You tightened your walls around him and motioned your hips in a way that withdrew some of his erection and bent it slightly downward. Then you did it again, and your cunt began to pulse ardently. 

“Shit.” Spencer held onto you, hissed between clenched teeth, one hand tight on your hip while the other still held your hand in place by the wrist, now closer to your back.

It felt too good. You felt so damn good, and an early flutter grew in his balls and lower stomach, all while you turned into a whiny, moaning turmoil under him. Ever smiling. 

Right then, as you used his cock, all he could focus on was not coming just yet even though small drops started to drip out of the tip, but the pleasure snowballed too quickly for him to stop it. Spencer groaned, weakened, and let his body fall over yours, his hips just pressing and pressing against your ass desperately as you sucked everything out of him. Spurts of cum shot inside you with each jolt of his cock, and as his body naturally did that, the deliberate part of him searched for your hands and locked his fingers with yours, tight, pressing them on your sides and his lips and nose hovering along your jaw.

“That’s it, baby, come inside me, yes, yes, y-yes,” you encouraged him, and he grunted some more. “That’s so good, you feel so good, give it to me, please, please f-fuck!” Your voice went high-pitched, loud as you ever were, and he was sure you were coming again–pulsating and pulsating around his erection.

“Show me your face,” he whispered breathlessly at the back of your head and slammed into you. You cried out as an instant response. “Let me see your smile.” He slammed into you again, and harder. You turned your head, gluing your chin to your shoulder. He licked your earlobe, dragged his lips to the underside of your chin, then to your lips, capturing them into an open-mouthed kiss. You whined into it and glared at him from up close, nose to nose, and smiled sweetly. 

Every part of him softened with love. 

“There she is.” He smiled, too. “There’s my girl.”

“I love you so much, baby.” You breathed out.

Sweet nothings slipped through his lips to your skin about how much he loved you too, how good you felt, how good you were to him, and he stayed there, intentionally twitching his cock inside you as another way of showing you his love.

After a moment, he gave you one last messy kiss and straightened up with a grunt, allowing his cock to slip out. His cum dripped out of you like melting caramel, cascading down to the pillow that was so flattened out now, there was no purpose for it anymore. He yanked it out, tossed it to the floor, and snatched you close by your hips to lift them up, ready to go for a second round. A single spank there on your cheek to let you know that this was still going. 

You’ve trained him for this—coming multiple times in a row. It was torture the first few times (a good kind of torture, of course, one he much enjoyed), then it was the only way sex always went. Finishing once, then coming back inside you for a second one and third, giving his cock no chance to soften. 

No exceptions.

He used his own cum as lube, smearing it all over—up to your clit, between your swollen folds and back to your opening. Pushed the tip in, then drilled into you. Fuck, you were somehow tight now, sensitive by your many orgasms most likely, but you gave him no sign of discomfort. Instead, you took the lead and withdrew to slam back onto him, ready to keep going, too. 

Then he continued. The globes of your ass bounced and smacked against his lower stomach with each new thrust and this desperate rapped out cadence had his thighs stinging. But it was thrilling, so exquisite it went on for a long while, and you never ceased to let him know how much you were enjoying this. Moaning, whining, gripping the bed covers, and every once in a while reaching for the hand holding onto you.

Until you got tired from being with your face pressed down to the mattress.

There was no need to vocalize any of it, and agreed with a glance followed by a kiss that it was time to change positions. 

With even more kisses in between, Spencer lay down with his upper back pressed to the headboard and made himself more comfortable with a few pillows behind him, ready to have you riding him. You finally took off your shirt and settled on top of him. He couldn’t help but sit up right to take one of your breasts into his mouth, just to show you how much he loved them. Nuzzled his nose into your flesh while you sank into his erection. He hummed around your nipple and wrapped his arms around you into a hug to bring you with him as he settled back. 

“I’m gonna move fast, baby, I need to thrust so badly.”

“Go ahead,” he replied, peeling off your breast and looking up at you.

You were beautiful like this, in charge yet so cock-drunk.

You supported both hands under his ribs, not quite pressing but rather holding onto him, and did as you’d said—as you’d warned him. The prowess of your hips turned him into a groaning chaos. His feet tensed and his thighs clenched and unclenched trying to hold it together, but fuck, you were so good at this.

“You’re so h-hard, Spence, fuck.” Your eyes fluttered closed and bit your bottom lip through a smile and little laugh. 

So good, so fucking good, so hard, baby, you continued to praise him through clenched teeth.

He was, he so fucking was, it was a matter of a few more thrusts that he came again. 

His face twitched with the almost unbearable pleasure you were giving him, bouncing your ass up and down and giving him rolling motions in between that allowed your cunt to wrap around every curve of his cock. 

“’m gonna come again mm—!” Your cunt tightened and stayed tight while you kept moving, then those familiar pulses caressed his erection. “My god, you feel so fucking good, so b-big.”

Your hips lost rhythm, only spasmed persistently, but kept his cock curved in the way you so much liked and as you kept moving, you went silent. Focused. Eyes closed, brows low. Shaky breaths caged on your throat.

“That’s it, use my cock,” Spencer encouraged you. His mouth was dry.

Then you released it. All at once. A shaky yelp, relaxed and silky cunt. “Oh, sh-shit, baby, I’m coming, y-yess!” 

So was he. Fuck fuck fuck he was so close to coming too. He loved it when this magical synchronization happened. 

“Don’t stop,” he breathed out. He needed to come with you, so he built his pleasure some more by taking you in, all of you, and chased it and began to express it before it struck him fully. With short breathless groans and loving kisses on your arms, now that you were holding onto him by his sweaty shoulders. “Don’t stop, feels so good.”

Your voices blended together in the air and soon, your orgasms did, too.

“fucking god.” Spencer groaned, staring down at where your bodies met. 

His hands roamed across your sides, from your ribs to your hips and thighs then back to your ass and the arch of your back.

“One more, baby. You can come once more for me,” you told him, cupping his jaw. “Yeah? You just feel so good, I don’t want this to end.”

He knew he had it in him. A third one, it was right there even when he was barely out of the second one. 

Baby, please, you begged next to his ear.

Yeah, he definitely had a third one.

He harshly handled you so you’d be lying down instead, and he settled between your legs, entered you and ruthlessly pounded into you, mouths clasped together as you both moaned into each other, sharing a single, agitated breath. 

“Yes, yes, yes baby!” you cried out. “Come in me again.” 

Spencer tucked his face on your neck, blindly hooked his arms under your thighs to bend your legs and bring them up and with his eyes closed he still pictured you, as if he wasn’t right there on your arms. 

“Ah, sweetheart,” Spencer exhaled a groan. “You make me crazy.” He then hummed and nibbled your neck and spoke into your hot skin. “So fucking crazy.”

“Kiss me,” you breathed out. “Keep talking to me.” Spencer lifted his face from your neck and glued his lips to yours. “Like this, yeah.” 

You swept your tongue along his and as he kept plunging into you, in and out, creating a wet mess between your bodies, he said, “I want to get you pregnant so bad.”

“Yeah?” you replied, so damn whiny.

“Yeah, baby.” Spencer tugged your bottom lip between gentle teeth and morphed it into a kiss. His balls tightened; his cock spasmed. “Ah, fuck, there it is. I’m c-coming again.” 

“Yes, baby, do it, come inside me, please.”

Come in me, you repeated, and he clung into your embrace, thrusting and thrusting and groaning until he released inside you through a low and deep grunt that you gladly kissed and moaned into, too. Then the pleasure ripped through him so hard it almost jumped through his skin. 

There was nothing left inside him anymore. He felt drained in the most exhilarating way, so he stayed there in your arms for a moment. You gently tapped his arm so he’d let your legs go, and you relaxed them right away. Your muscles were trembling.  

“That was so good, baby.” You panted, and clammed your cunt around him as you adjusted your body under him. While still inside you, Spencer kissed your neck then brought his mouth to your lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck and pulled him closer to receive his lazy kisses with much more strength. “Thank you.” 

You then peppered kisses all over his sweaty face, which gave him enough fuel to move a little, falling on your side at last.

He took the longest, joyful breath.

“Tired?” You asked him.

You were quick to reach for wipes and began to clean yourself and him. An excess of cum pooled around his now softer cock and with so much care, you cleaned it all. 

“Sleepy,” he replied, and continued cleaning himself with another wipe as his eyes closed. His voice was barely there.

“Do you need something?” You pecked the corner of his mouth.

“I’m good.” He shook his head.

“‘Kay.” You kissed him again. “I’ll be right back.” 

You slipped from his side with a huff. An exhausted huff. He squinted one eye open to get a glimpse of you, and your legs wobbled as you bent to pick up something. He couldn’t hold back a mocking laugh.

You laughed along, shooting him a teasing smile. “You’re proud, aren’t you?”

“Mhm I am.” He raised his brows at you. 

His breathing was more regulated when you came back from the bathroom break. Still naked, you joined him in bed again, lying on your stomach.

Just to stare at him.

And play with his hair.

And steal some kisses.

“What did you do today?” He asked you, turning to face you. His hand mindlessly went to your back, and caressed you along your spine with his fingers with feather-light glides.

“I went tile shopping with Derek.” You brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead. “A cream tone for the kitchen and a light blue for the guest bathroom. Savannah and little Hank joined us for lunch, then I came back to paint the kitchen cabinets.” You then sweetly shrugged.

“Sage green?” His hand stopped briefly.

Your face lit up. “How do you know?” 

“I know things,” he said with a cocky grin and continued his motions along your back. He just saw the paint in the living room. “What else did you do?”

“I talked to Diana.”

“I called her today, too,” he raised his brows at the coincidence. 

“Well, she called me.” You countered with slight humor. “I thought she’d gotten the numbers mixed up, but she didn’t.” 

The proud look on your face was… endearing. 

“And what did she say?”

“She was wondering when I was going to visit her.”

“She didn’t ask about me?” He asked, mildly offended.

You shook your head and didn’t give him much time to think of it as you continued, “So, I was thinking, after Spain, we can make a stop in Vegas for a few days?”

“I like that, yeah.”

“And did you tell her, perhaps, about us and babies?”

“I don’t think so.” He quirked his brows. “Why?”

“She hinted at something, but maybe I’m thinking too much of it.”

“Tell me.”

You held the thought for a second, your eyes wandering around to explain, “She told me about how this woman from her home had a son and that he’d recently brought his newborn baby to meet her. She said how she could almost picture you doing the same someday.” You shrugged. “Then proceeded to say how the baby’s cry annoyed her.”

A heartily laugh rolled from his chest. 

This, knowing how his mom called you to just chat, was a dream come true. 

“Anyway, I don’t know why I asked her if she knew the baby’s name, but she didn’t, which made me think of baby names. For our future baby.” 

Spencer leaned and teased you by your ear. “You did?”

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I don’t know why, but I feel like… We’ll have a girl first.”

First. So you wanted more than one.

His chest fluttered. “And what’s her name?”

“You’re gonna laugh.” You covered your face with your palms.

“Tell me.” He reached for your fingers and gently peeled one hand away, bringing it to his lips. To kiss you. To nibble you.

“Sage.” You said, and your eyes glimmered. “I saw the name when I was searching for paint colors and something about it felt… right.”

“Sage,” he said in deep thought.

“Mhm. Sage Reid. Or Scout. I like that one too. Or Sadie. Definitely a name that starts with an S.” You drew lines over his chest. “I really like your initials.”

Spencer planted a kiss on your cheek and spoke right there with his lips brushing over your skin. “She could have my initials, but I’m sure she’ll have your eyes.”

You hummed, then something in you shifted.

“Spence, what if… we struggle to get pregnant?”

He frowned, pulling back to stare and try to read you. Something told him this uncertainty has been there for a while.

“Is this something you think about a lot?”

“No?” You frowned. “Not a lot, but it’s definitely a thought, I guess.”

“We’re not in a rush.” He lifted one hand to cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek. “So, I don’t think struggle is a word if it takes us a while.”

“Yeah.” You let out a long sigh and snuggled into his embrace, one leg propped over his. “Do you think it’s late?”

“It was late when I left the office, so probably.” A soft kiss on the top of your head. “Why?”

“I haven’t eaten.” You grumbled. “And I have to shower, again.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, kissing your temple. “Let’s shower first, then we’ll make something to eat.” You groaned again in protest. “Just stand there. I’ll soap up your gorgeous body.”

“And wash my hair?” You lifted your head to look at him.

“Double shampooing if you want.”

Eva if you made it to the end, I know it’s not exactly what we once talked about, but this was the result 🥹 I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless 💋

Dear reader, please don't hesitate to let me know what you thinkkkk. I'd love to read all of your thoughts

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTRELIST

this.

WHY IS THERE NO WRITING FOR HIM

GUYS, IT'S LITERALLY SUPERMAN HAS NO ONE EVER SEEN SMALLVILLE?! IM GOING CRAZY BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING, NOT EVEN CRUMBS

PLS SOMEONE WRITE FOR HIM I WILL TAKE ANYTHING, FLUFF, ANGST, SMUT, HEADCANONS, DRABBLES, FULL ON FICS ANYTHING PLS, HES SO POOKIE

Dear all trick or treaters 😤😈🫦 I’m coming back for that ass 🫵🏼 if I ain’t get that butt last year?! Then this year getting smashed!! 💕😤🫵🏼🤭☺️🫦🩷🤤

dommy mommy emme is gonna get touched bro 💁‍♀️

wip ask game!

i got tagged three times so i might as well hehe

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have wips. people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

• the sunflower in the graveyard (pt. 2)

• a very needed vacation

• free now (pt. 2)

• moon song

• you feel like home

@beenreidingaboutyou @cheriesbucky @reidrum <33

Hands to Myself

Post Prison! Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Since Spencer got out of prison, you two have a bit of a problem keep your hands to yourselves.

Category: Smut

Warnings: established relationship, not much plot- lowkey just smut, physical touch, aftermath of the prison arc, spencer being a lil ooc, reader having dirty thoughts about spencer, spencer & reader being horny 24/7, spencer being a lil cheeky, kissing, smut warnings: quickie, spencer does the knee thing 🙏, brief cunnilingus, spencer being a lil perv (steals reader’s underwear), standing up sex, eye contact 🙈, unprotected sex, creampie.

Author’s Note: spencer reid doing the knee thing. that’s all.

It wasn’t your fault you two just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Since Spencer had come back from three months at the Milburn Correctional Facility, let’s just say — you were fulfilling each other’s appetites.

Of course, three months away from one another stirred up a long conversation that needed to happen between you two. And you talked about how much you missed one another and now you just couldn’t seem to be apart after that.

And it was understandable, Spencer was in prison and you were in your mental prison, thinking about him and hoping to God he’d make it out alive. And by some miracle, he did.

But since he got out, you both longed for that physical touch. You two could be in the same room and go ballistic if you weren’t touching each other. You’d still manage to grab his hand or he’d put his own hand down the small of your back. Even sitting on the jet, you were holding hands nonstop. The only time you’d ever leave the other alone is when they were using the restroom.

At work, you’d managed to keep it together until the end of the day, of course, finding time within your lunches and breaks to just spend with each other. It was a domestic thing, you two shared, it seemed. The physical touch was always a big love language unspoken between you two, even more now that he’d been away.

And it seemed as if the sex had been another thing with you two. Everyone in the office has joked about a couple in the storage room, going at it like rabbits but they never seemed to figure out who it was in the storage room — you and Spencer laughed along despite you both knowing you were the culprits.

Before Spencer went to prison, you were both against the idea of ever doing it in the office, not wanting to jeopardize either of your careers and jobs. But once Spencer got back, a lot of things changed. Especially your hungers for one another.

You seemed to like how possessive he’d gotten over you since he got back. Whether it was placing a hand on your thigh, innocently in the briefing room or holding your waist whilst you were talking to another man in the office, Spencer just couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. But you weren’t complaining in the slightest.

It’d been another normal day in the office, you and Spencer filling out paperwork at your desks. You’d both been doing better with the touching each other every single day. And to be honest, it was tough at first, but eventually — you two knew what was at stake and it’d be better than to risk it all.

You’d been working on your paperwork, since Emily requested that she needed it by the end of the day. You’d been limping at the finish line with this paperwork, nearly done with it. But then you caught a glimpse at Spencer doing his work.

The way his sleeves were rolled up, the way he pushed his chocolate curls back as he ran a veiny hand — you always had a thing for his hands — through his hair, his stomach filling out the dress shirt he was wearing, but it was just more of him to worship. And the stubble that suited him so well, you couldn’t nearly get enough of it. And then your eyes trailed down to his slacks and how you could see his bulge right through the outline of them and you bit your lip as you thought of the wildest things you could do to him right now, or what you wanted him to do to you.

You didn’t stare long, mostly because Spencer had felt eyes on him and you quickly looked away so you wouldn’t get caught. But it was too late, because he knew even before he looked up that you were staring.

Spencer looks at you, moving your hair back and focusing on your work and he gets an idea, licking his lips and leaving his desk for a brief moment. You watch as he does so, wondering what he’s doing.

You merely go back to work, assuming that maybe he’ll come back within a few minutes when you get an alert on your cell phone on your desk.

You check in to see there’s a text message from your boyfriend.

Spencer: The old firing range. Wait a few minutes before leaving so as not to draw suspicion.

You smirk, to yourself wondering what this little visit to the old firing range would entail. You on your knees or him on his? Your thighs rub together at the thought. You look around and Spencer is definitely gone and most likely at the old firing range now. Which is probably why he told you to wait a few minutes.

So, you wait five minutes before eagerly getting up and correcting your posture and walking out of the bullpen and getting into the elevator. You can hardly contain your excitement as something fills your belly with a pool of lust as you watch the numbers go to the last button of the elevator and you smirk to yourself as the doors open, heart racing and limbs trembling as you walk through and find the door you need.

You walk in and you look around, Spencer’s nowhere to be found and then you feel arms wrap around you and hot breath down your neck. You nearly jump and nearly thrash around but Spencer is quick to say — “It’s just me.” You melt into his touch and take a breather, confused on if you either want to yell at him for scaring you or kiss him. You ultimately choose the latter as you turn around, giving him a peck.

“Hi.” You giggle and he smiles as he softly greets you, “Hey.” He caresses your face, examining every feature before lowering his face down to your neck, leaving you kisses on your neck. “You know, if someone notices we’re both gone, Emily is gonna have our heads on a platter.” You tell. To say that you were making this a habit was an understatement. Someone was eventually gonna catch on to what you were both doing, especially if there were marks on your neck.

“Well, let’s hope nobody notices. Not that I really care anyways.” Spencer stated and you shake your head at your silly man. All logical thought seems to go out the window when it comes to you having sex, not that you mind. He kisses at your lips again, holding your face in your hands before pushing you up against the wall, his hand behind your head so you don’t hurt yourself as you continue to make out.

He kisses against you neck again and this time, raises his knee in between your legs, enough to put pressure and you gasp at the feeling, you almost begin to rub yourself back and forth on his knee.

“How greedy you are.” Spencer growls into your ear and your smirk, “I could say the same thing for you.”

Without another word, Spencer moves back a bit and gets on his knees and Jesus, you could always get used to that sight. You always loved seeing him on his knees. He takes his hands up and down your thighs and bunches up your pencil skirt and you feel his fingers on the waistband on your panties as he pulls your panties down — and stuffs them in his pocket — and gazes at your wet pussy.

He doesn’t hesitate to stick his face in between your thighs and you moan out, holding his head close to your body as he swirls his tongue around your clit in figure-8’s for a moment before pushing himself off your cunt and kisses your pussy before coming back up and kissing you on your lips. You become dizzy as you taste yourself on his lips.

You begin unbuckling his belt around his torso and unzipping his slacks, pulling his cock out. He also licks his fingertips, trying to get himself well-lubricated before sticking himself inside of you. He strokes his cock a few times before adjusts himself against you, sheathing his dick inside of you.

You nearly shout as you feel him inside of you, back arching against the granite wall and Spencer braces his hands against the wall as he moves his hips in and out of you. He tilts your head to meet his eyes and he seems to go faster as he stares deep into your eyes.

“Oh, my god…” You whisper as he keeps fucking you at a steady rhythm. He’s even whining at his own movements. “God, I love you.” He says and you dig your hands into his curls as you mutter against his lips, “I love you, too.”

Spencer manages to grab one of your hands, holding it against the wall as he keeps fucking you and you can feel him pushing himself to the brinks and you’re almost there yourself.

“Cum inside me, Spence. Please. I need it.” You beg, holding him close against you. “Are you sure?” Spencer grunts and you plead, “Yes, yes!” He groans as he stills himself inside of you, filling you up in that way you love.

You lean against the wall, growing lightheaded. Spencer slips himself out of you, fixing your skirt and pressing a kiss to your forehead before stuffing himself back in his pants.

Spencer holds your face with his hands and looks at you. “You okay?” You nod with a smile, “Amazing.” You take a deep breath and then you look around, Spencer noticing your very evident and prominent frown on your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “Where are my—?” You stop in your tracks before narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend, that has a guilty smirk on his face. “Spencer, give me my panties back.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer plays off but you shake your head, “Spencer, you literally came inside of me, I need my panties.”

“Maybe you’ll get them back. Maybe.” A code word for not a chance.

Suddenly, Spencer’s cell phone buzzes and he checks it with a grimace. “Uh, oh.” He says.

“What?” You ask.

“Emily’s caught on. She says we need to come back from our shenanigans and actually need to get some work done.” Spencer tells.

“You might as well tell her that you just can’t keep your hands to yourself.” You tease. “Which you can’t, by the way.”

Spencer shrugs, “I mean, I could, but why would I want to?”

I Love You, I’m Sorry

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You left the BAU and your boyfriend, Spencer, after a case took a hefty toll on you. You only left behind a letter, explaining yourself and why you had to leave. Four years later, you find yourself back in DC on a whim. You learn that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.

Category: Angst

Warnings: NO HAPPY ENDING, mentions of a past case, mentions of trauma, case related things, reader getting kidnapped but only mentioned, reader lowkey being stalker-y, arguing, mentions of 2x15 “Revelations” but it’s brief, takes place in Season 9 but this is with the Season 7 team, angst angst angst

It’d been four years since he last saw you. You’d left the BAU after a particular case took a massive toll on you and you’d decided the best thing to do at the time was leave.

It was a case in your hometown, no less — the team had no leads and all they had to go off were three bodies tattooed with some kind of weird symbol on their bodies. Before joining the BAU, you were in the taskforce and you’d dealt with something similar. The victims had all been women and the symbol was some kind of branding initiation. You never caught the guy.

And when the team finally got a lead, you and Morgan were sent to check the place out. Unfortunately, it ended with Morgan being knocked out cold and you being kidnapped.

It took the team four days to find you. You were tortured, slashes on your body and the amount of mental trauma you endured during that time was disturbing. He managed to gather most of your team’s belongings and present them in blood as if it were proof that they were dead. You were led to believe that your team was dead for four days.

But by the fourth day, they realized that their unsub was someone who worked for the PD and luckily, they cracked it down and found you. You almost believed that they weren’t real, that everyone was a figment of your imagination. It took Spencer approaching you and actually touching you for you to realize that this was real. That your team was still alive.

And the case took a toll on you. Even after you passed your psych evals and came back to the BAU, you were still flinching at anyone touching you. And unfortunately, it just became too much in the end that you left.

The only person you explained yourself to was Spencer. You left behind a letter for him, I know, not great thinking on your part considering that’s how Gideon and his father left him. But you knew if you talked to him face to face, he would’ve talked you into staying. He was your boyfriend, he always had a way with words that no one else did. And you knew he’d try and get you to stay because this was where you belonged. But you felt totally alone. Even though the team was there for you, you still felt alone.

Four years have passed since you left. And as expected, the only person that found you was the BAU’s very own Penelope Garcia. You only allowed her to tell the team that you were okay and that you were safe but not to tell them where you were. For the last four years, you thought about the team every day.

So what exactly pursued you to come back all of a sudden? Call it homesickness, say it was only because you missed everyone dearly and started thinking about them a lot more recently. Or maybe it was because you only missed Spencer. That’s why you were standing outside of his apartment unit, right?

You were outside, staring at the tall building and you had no idea what brought you here but you were here. It was like you woke up and all of a sudden, you were here. You had no idea what brought you here. But you walked out that door and your feet took you here.

Spencer had been invading your mind as of recently. You had no idea why but it probably had to do with the fact that his birthday was recently. His thirty-second birthday. You wondered what he did, you wondered how he spent his birthday. Did he spend it with the team? Did he spend it with his mom? You wondered if showing up was a mistake. Maybe it was.

Spencer, on the other hand, was carrying about his night in his apartment. It had been one of those nights where he couldn’t sleep, so he’d started the day off at 3am. Probably not the smartest idea because he’d be tired by the end of the day, but at least there was coffee.

He’d turned on the coffee machine and got his crossword of the day ready at the kitchen table. He’d decided to bring some light in by walking towards the curtains and opening them. Granted, there wasn’t going to be a lot of light, but it would’ve helped. Plus, something told him to just open the curtains, so he did.

When he opened the curtain, he usually has a good look at the front of his building. Who’s coming, who’s going, what’s going on. And when he looks down, he sees something odd. Something that makes him question if he’s hallucinating. Have the schizophrenic symptoms finally taken over? Because there’s no way he’s seeing you, right here and right now.

And you’re staring right back at him. In the flesh. And you’re not a figment of his imagination, you can’t be. There were times after you left, where he thought about you and that other women he’d passed by were you. But this wasn’t like those other times. This was different.

Spencer was quick to scramble out of his apartment, almost toppling over his own feet as he struggles to get his slippers on and quickly rushes out of his apartment, down the stairs and towards the entrance of the building. Mind racing with questions and wanting answers as opens the door and blinks as he looks around for you. Because now you’ve disappeared.

Spencer looks around. You couldn’t have gotten far. He even opts to call out your name to the gods. There was no way you were figment of his imagination. You couldn’t have been. You were staring back at him. He’d almost forgotten what you looked like. And he doesn’t forget anything.

You’d managed to escape right when you saw him back away from his window and grabbed a taxi and ordered the driver to take you anywhere but here. You looked behind you and saw Spencer was in the middle of the street, wondering where you disappeared off to.

You had to leave. It was the only option you needed to take. You ended up getting a hotel early that morning. You still had no idea what you were doing here in DC. And it didn’t do you any good with Spencer seeing you. You hated to think it but you’d hoped that he thought that maybe you were just a figment of his imagination. You didn’t want him to go and ask Garcia where you were since she was the only person that knew. And you knew she’d give in because she wasn’t that great at keeping secrets.

Since you opted for staying for a few days, you had to be incognito. And that meant avoiding Spencer at all cost. That didn’t help when all the places you used to go to, you introduced him to.

You thought you were safe going to your local coffee shop this morning, but you walked in right when he was getting his order and you were quick to hide behind a very tall, burly man and rush out of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, to your luck, Spencer saw you. Or at least thought maybe he did. He’d spotted you the minute you hid behind that burly man and then when you practically ran out of the coffee shop.

He definitely wasn’t imagining you now. He’d seen as you ran far away from the shop and called your name, probably looking like a total lunatic as he yelled your name across the street. You were most definitely caught now. Your jig was up. You should’ve expected this to happen.

Penelope 💕: You’re in town?

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: And don’t even try and lie, Spencer blew your cover.

Sent 12:34pm

Penelope💕: Also, he tried bribing me with a croissant to figure out where you are. I can only hold on for so long!

Sent 12:35pm

Penelope managed to spam your cell phone when you got back to the hotel after your harrowing escape. You decided to send a quick reply with a sigh falling from your lips.

You: Please please PLEASE don’t tell him where I am.

Sent 12:37pm

Penelope💕: Okay, fine. But under one condition.

Sent 12:38pm

You: Which is?

Sent 12:38pm

Penelope💕: Come out with us to O’Keefe’s tonight! It’ll be lowkey, everyone on the team will be there! And you get to straighten this whole thing out because even JJ is asking questions now!

Sent 12:39pm

Your biggest thing was that you didn’t want anyone knowing you were here. You don’t even know what sparked you even showing up in the first place. What were you going to tell them if they’d asked why you were here? There were so many questions you wanted to avoid. Because you’d just left without a trace.

You: Oh, Penny. I don’t know… :/

Sent 12:40pm

Penelope💕: Oh, just consider it! It could be fun for you!

Easy for you to say, Penelope. But she had a point. Maybe it could be fun, seeing the team again. Morgan, Rossi, Spencer. Then again, you almost wanted to avoid him because of how you left him. Was he the only thing holding you back from going tonight? Not to mention, did anyone else know exactly how you left him? They could’ve hated you just as much as you knew he hated you. Your phone dings again.

Penelope💕: I know your gears are turning but trust me, everyone really wants to see you again! Emily was literally talking about you the other day. Please! With sugar on top!

Sent 12:43pm

Okay, that made you feel a little bit better. You did miss them. Maybe Penelope would be the one to help you with your decision.

You: Fine, I’ll make an appearance. But only for an hour!

Sent 12:45pm

Penelope💕: YESSSSS 🥳 I’ll send you deets after work! 😊

Sent 12:45pm

Your plan to avoid Spencer backfired on you, oh, so greatly. Maybe you still could avoid him. Maybe he decided not to go to O’Keefe’s once he found out you were gonna be there.

He never liked the bar scene anyways. He hardly drank since what happened with Tobias Hankel. You prayed for the slight chance that he wouldn’t come drinking with the team. And you even hoped Garcia may have been so excited to tell Spencer that you were coming, she’d blurt it out to him and maybe he wouldn’t go. You hoped you were right.

I hate this already, I hate this already, I hate this already. You thought in your head as you walked to O’Keefe’s. It’s been a while since you’ve been in this area. Your mind is built with memories of walking these same streets with Spencer, arm in arm as he rambled about just about anything. Your heart broke in two as you thought about those times, so simple and delicate before they got ruined. By you.

You walked towards the bar and entered the building, scouting out to look for the team until a chippy voice shouted your name. “Y/N!” Your eyes trailed over to the bubbly blonde, “Over here!” She waves her arm over and you walk over pretty slowly as you join them.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” Morgan stands from his seat, welcoming you with a hug. “It’s good to see you.” You muffle into his shirt that it’s good to see him too and by then everyone pretty much follows with a hug and Rossi kisses both of your cheeks in welcoming. Everyone seems happy to see you. Everyone except Spencer, who keeps sipping his drink and looking anywhere but you like you don’t even exist. And he has the right to that. But he’s not gonna ruin this, tonight.

The night consists of everyone asking you how you’ve been and what you’ve been up to. And not that Spencer cares but he overhears as you mention you work at a desk job in California — the place he knows you’ve always wanted to live — and that you recently got a new cat and that you don’t have a boyfriend. Again, not that he cares.

And then he catches onto something you say. About how you were sorry you left the team so abruptly. And Spencer scoffs under his breath as he spoke — “Least you’re explaining yourself in person now, right?”

Spencer met your eyes and everyone sat there awkwardly after the fact. You knew what that was. A diss at how you left him. You knew how he was. He got petty. And when he got petty, he got mean. It didn’t help that he’d been nursing his drink a bit, too.

Garcia had distracted everyone, asking to join her on the dance floor, to which Morgan, JJ, Emily and even you obliged. Spencer had declined, deciding to stay at your table and Rossi and Hotch went over to the bar to get more drinks for everyone.

Spencer’s jaw clenched as he watched you dance with the rest of his team. How can they act like you didn’t just up and leave them three years ago? Like everything was fine again? How could they just sit there and laugh with you when you broke their hearts when you left? He didn’t forget how Garcia cried for weeks, or how frustrated Morgan was when he found out, or how Emily kept turning over to your empty desk to tell you something but forgot you weren’t there and how heartbroken you left him when he read your letter over and over again.

I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He could see your handwriting in the back of his mind. The wires in his head crossing as he wrapped his head around the fact that you were here. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry. He told you that you two were gonna be fine, you were going to get through this together. I can’t stay here. I love you. I’m sorry. But you left. You left and you didn’t turn back. How could you leave him like that? The same way his dad did, the same way Gideon did. I can’t stay here anymore. I love you. I’m sorry.

Finding himself growing frustrated, Spencer decides to leave. He can’t stay here. Not while you’re here, not while the team can act like they’re happy to see you. He’s infuriated. And he needs to go.

He slams a twenty down at the table and lets Hotch and Rossi know he’s leaving. They don’t even attempt to get him to say, exchanging a knowing glance at the fact it was because you were here but he wasn’t going to pay any attention to that. He heads for the door but he doesn’t realize he’s had an audience this whole time.

You were watching him. You couldn’t help it. You hated the way he glared at you. It pained you that you caused this. You were the reason he hated you. So, when you saw him leave, you decided that maybe you needed to talk, one on one without anyone else present.

You excused yourself to everyone, saying you going to get some water and that you’d be right back and exited the building, seeing as Spencer was about eight feet ahead of you and calling his name. “Spencer!”

Spencer scoffs, turning around as you fiddle your hands together, approaching him. You did that when you were nervous. “Can we talk, please?” Spencer turns back around and continues walking. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“Yes, we do. And you know it.” You say as you catch up to him even if he continues walking away from you. “Spencer, I know you hate the way I left. And trust me, I did, too but you can’t blame me forever.”

“Well, I have,” Spencer turns around and faces you. “You left, or did you forget that? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

“Spencer—”

“You left. You wrote a letter to me, just like my dad and just like Gideon because you were a coward and couldn’t face me. We could’ve worked it out, we could’ve talked about it, Y/n!”

“I couldn’t talk to you about it!” And now here you were, shouting at him, this was the last thing you wanted when you decided to come here tonight.

“Why not?”

“Because I know you’d talk me out of leaving!” You take a deep breath. “And I didn’t want that. I needed not to be persuaded by you, I needed to think about this. And I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t. And I hated that I did that to you, it haunts me every single day.” Your voice wavered when you said the last sentence. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you. You have to know that I’m sorry.” You go to touch him but he’s quick to back away from you.

“Oh, and you’re making amends now?” Spencer questioned. “You’re just acting like what you didn’t matter? Well, it mattered to me, Y/n. You left and you didn’t care!”

“I did.” You argued.

“No, you didn’t. ‘I can’t do this anymore’? ‘I love you, I’m sorry’?” You furrow your brows at this. And all he can think is — how can you not remember the most painful words you’d ever written to him? “You wrote that to me in your letter. Your letter that you left behind to me, along with your badge and gun. You can’t just slam this door closed and pretend like you’re not at fault when you’re completely at fault. You hurt me, in the only way a person could. How could you do that?”

“I know, I know!” You tell him, shutting your eyes as you pull your hair back away from your face. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. But I couldn’t be there anymore. I wasn’t the same girl that you fell in love with. And you deserved better.”

“I deserved better than that.” Spencer retorted and you nod with a sniffle, “Yeah, yeah, you did.” You admit defeat, wiping your nose.

You walk closer to him as he stares at the ground. “And I’m so sorry,” You tell him. He still avoids your eyes, opting for the ground until he feels your hand on his cheek and you force him to meet his eyes. “And I’m telling the truth. I thought about you everyday. And I love you, I could never lie about that. Ever.”

Spencer looks into your eyes and you can’t make what’s in them. Anger? Sadness? Regret? All of the above? “Why did you come back?” The question lingers above your head and you try to come up with a valid reason in your head. But you can’t come with anything. Why did you come back? You could’ve left this alone, you could’ve moved on because that was the way life went. You could go on, forget anything happened. Was it some form of a guilty conscience for leaving him? Was it closure? Did you need to move on? Did you need Spencer to move on before you could? “I don’t know.” You answer.

“That’s not an answer.” Spencer tells you and you back away from with a scoff, “Well, then what do you want to hear, Spencer? I don’t know why I’m here. I just know that I am now.”

“Why? Did you expect to get back together or something? That maybe I’d just forget what happened and leave it behind in the past like nothing did?” It was obvious he couldn’t forget it.

“No, I-I didn’t expect that, at all—!”

“Then, why?”

“I don’t… know.” Maybe you did know why. Maybe you still loved him. But you couldn’t. Not in this way at least.

“You can’t just stumble your way back into my life simply because — what? You’re lonely, all of a sudden? Is that it?”

You’d had enough. This was pointless when all he was doing was arguing with you and making you feel even worse than you already did. You shake your head — “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“Maybe you need to,” He argued. “Y/n, you were cruel to me. And somehow, you were also the best thing that happened to me. I loved you, did you know that? I tried moving on, I tried — but that didn’t even work out.” It makes you wonder why. But it’s not your business. “When I saw you again, all I could think about was how you left. And how much it hurt when you did. And you’re back now and now I’m more confused than ever. I hate you for coming back. But… I… I can’t even wrap my head around this. I can’t… I can’t be around you. I need to go.”

Spencer shakes his head and begins to walk away. You watch as he does so but not before you tell him — “I knew,” You say and he stops in his tracks. “And for the record, I loved you, too.”

Spencer stands still for a moment before he continues walking. And he turns his back on you, just like you did him years ago. There was time where he would’ve spun around and forgave you and held you and kissed you until you needed a breather but that time was long gone. Because now, he couldn’t even stand to be around you. You watched as he walked away from you and you know you deserve that.

You two were on different paths and maybe that’s the way it had to be. You’d book a flight back home when you got back to your hotel tonight. Because he was right, you couldn’t stumble back into his life, begging for forgiveness when you left him the way you did. That was the way life went, you move on.

And you supposed you should start doing that now. Since Spencer was on his way to doing so, already.