G4rvez-r3id - Mya

Anything For Ellie : Part Three

Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Spencer is finally taking you out on a date and you discover just how lovely he can be with you — in public and behind closed doors.

Category: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, themes of spencer taking reader out on a date, spencer being down bad for reader, in a world of boys he’s a gentleman, reader being shy, takes place after the prison arc, mentions of season 12, kissing smut warnings: she’s a dirty girl- cunnilingus, minor dirty talk, slight nipple play, protected sex, p in v, fingering, spencer’s hung, praise kink go brrr, lowkey rough fucking, possession kink if you squint, spencer calls reader ‘angel’

Author’s Note: here is the longgggggggggggg awaited part three to anything for ellie!! i’m so sorry it’s taken me this long ahhhh but here it is and i hope it was worth the wait!! i lowkey got writers block with this so that’s why it took so long but i hope never to take so long again but yk life be getting in the way lol anyways please enjoy this! and ofc i had to post this on matthew’s birthday hehehe

part one / part two

It was official, you were going on a date with Spencer Reid. You’d sat with Ellie in front of your mirror as she applied your lip gloss on your face. Surprisingly, she was pretty good at makeup. That probably had to do with her favorite auntie’s doing.

You’d told Ellie she’d be staying with Penelope for a few hours while you and Spencer were hanging out. You didn’t exactly want Ellie to know about your date for good reason. You didn’t want her getting her hopes up about Spencer being more involved in their lives but it seemed as if he already was — getting her hopes up, that was.

“All done!” Ellie announces and you take a look in the mirror. “Great job, El! Where’s you learn to do makeup?” Ellie smiles to herself, “Auntie Penelope taught me.” Knew it.

You shake your head at your daughter and look into the mirror. Spencer told you to dress as nice as you wanted because he wanted to take you to a fancy Thai restaurant. So, you dressed in red, your best color — according to Penelope, she’d helped you with shopping for your date since you haven’t been on a date in years.

You’d pulled out all the stops, getting your hair done, doing your makeup, even dressing in expensively ridiculously high heels. It’d been a while since you were asked on a date, damn it, might as well look as good as you wanted. There is a knock on the doorframe and both you and Ellie turn around and see that it’s Penelope.

“He’s here!” Penelope beams and Ellie cheers as she jumps around. You stand up from your seat and look over at Penelope as you flatten out your dress with your palms. “How do I look?”

“Oh, you look amazing, pretty girl!” Penelope compliments and you smile at the woman as she grabs Ellie’s hand. “Now, Ellie, let’s go say hi to Spencer so your mom can make a grand entrance!”

Penelope and Ellie leave you, shutting your door behind them and you take a deep breath, staring at yourself in the full length mirror in your bedroom.

You’re completely stunned this is happening. You’re going on a date with Spencer freaking Reid. This has been something you thought about since you met him. You never thought it’d come true. Back then, these were just hopes and dreams. But now, this was reality. You wanted to pinch yourself because you had to have been dreaming, right?

You hear the chattering out in the living room and Penelope’s signal for you to come out. You nearly break your ankle as you walk down the hallway and Spencer is standing there, suit and all with a bouquet of roses in hand. When he sees you, it’s like time stops. You are his only focus of attention. And his breath is completely taken away as his eyes subtly rake over your figure in that dress.

“Wow…” He exhaled. “You look…” Spencer pauses, blinking a few times like he needs a moment. Was he really that focused on you, you wonder. “You look beautiful.”

You take in his suit, that sexy suit he looks oh, so good in. He’d matched your dress with a red cardigan underneath his blazer. How does he not sweat in that? Guess he was cold-blooded. “You don’t look too bad yourself, doc.” You smile.

You begin to walk over to him, your heel almost taking your ankle out again and you shake your head. “Okay, you know what?” You shake your ankles out of the heels and find your chucks near the couch and sit on the couch to quickly slip those on. “Now, I feel like I can walk without breaking something.”

Spencer chuckles as you make your way towards him without anything in your way, this time. “Hi.” You breathe, staring into his eyes and he stares into yours with a crooked smile — “Hi.” He says softly and you look at his hands, causing him to look down to see what you were looking at and then exclaimed — “Oh! These—These are for you. I remembered you said you liked roses, as cliché as they are.”

You’d remember the conversation as well, he’d been over for a movie night since Ellie practically begged him to come and she’d also chosen the movie. She’d chosen Beauty and the Beast and the topic of flowers had come up. Spencer had given Ellie a cool fact about wilted roses and that was where you chimed in and said that roses had been your favorite flower, even if they were a cliché.

You grab the flowers and smile at him, “Thank you, Spencer. These are lovely.” You take a whiff of them and he watches as you do so. He loves that you can be enraptured by the smell of roses.

“Well, we better get going. Our reservations are at 7:30. And if we get there in—” Spencer checks his watch. “Approximately nine minutes and twelve seconds, we can dodge traffic.”

You kneel down to your daughter’s level, “Be good for Penelope, okay, sweet pea?” You ask and Ellie beams, “Okay, Mommy!”

“Don’t worry about anything here,” Penelope chimes in, grabbing Ellie by the shoulders. “I’ve got it all taken care of. You guys just go and have all the fun in the world!”

Penelope grabs your arm gently as she pulls you closer to her — “And I am very available to stay the night if you need me to.” She grins with a wink and you flush at that sentence alone at the insinuation.

You bid your goodbyes to Penelope and Ellie and head on out with Spencer. He’d been a gentleman, getting you flowers, opening the car door for you, pulling out your seat at the table once you got there.

“I-I don’t drink, but I’d be happy to buy you a glass of wine if you’d like.” Spencer offered and you immediately shook your head. “Oh, I’m okay, thank you.”

You sat there and every so often made small talk with him, discussing anything and everything since he’d always had a fun fact in his back pocket. You’d enjoy those fun facts every time, never interrupted him, never disregarded him, just listened and asked questions every so often.

He’d talked about the origins of the restaurant you two were currently at when you wondered something in the back of your mind. And you felt the need to share it with him, because you wondered if maybe he’d thought about it as well.

“Spencer?” You run the rim of your glass with a finger.

“Yes?”

“I-I guess I’m just… a little curious,” You began, with a hitch in your breath. “How long did you feel—?” You pause, looking at his intriguing eyes and they’re burning into your soul, listening intently and you’re quick to shy away once you realize the attention’s all on you. “Never mind.”

“No, no, carry on. What were you gonna say?” Spencer sits forward and you shake your head, dismissing the topic. “No, no, it’s silly.” You say. Spencer grabs your hand across the table as he looks into your eyes and says — “Nothing you say is silly.”

You take a sharp breath and you break out of your shell, staring down into your lap as you think what you were about to say before you shied away. “How long… did you like me before you… asked me on a date? I guess I’m just curious.”

Spencer thinks on it for a moment before quickly responding. “It was the first time we met, and you had come to my door to ask if I had any juice.” You nod as you remember, “Oh, yes! Juice is the only thing Ellie will drink when she’s sick.”

“And you’d run, so you asked me. And I remembered your hair, sticking out, wearing a pastel pink robe and mismatched socks. And from that moment forward, I guess, I was hooked, so to speak.” You smile at the memory and lean forward, “Can I let you know on a secret?”

Spencer leans forward to you and you smile at the closeness between you two — “That was the day I knew, too.” Spencer smiles as he looks down and he too has grown shy and somehow you’ve grown more confident.

After you two have ate, Spencer pays for the check — you’d tried to split it but found out he prepaid for the meal before you two even got to the restaurant— and you two get back into the car, him opening the car door for you again had you weak in the knees.

“I do have one more question, Spencer.” You suddenly speak, turning your body towards him in the car. “What’s up?” Spencer asks, as he keeps his hands steady on the wheel and his eyes on the road.

“What made you finally ask me out? I mean, you had to have thought about it before you asked me, right?” You’d asked and for a brief moment, he turns to you before keeping his eyes back on the road. He doesn’t want to, but of course, safety first, he guesses.

Spencer bites the inside of his cheek, he’d debated on telling you right then and there. But he didn’t know how you’d take him being framed for a crime he didn’t even commit and how the reason he was gone for a few months wasn’t because of his job but because he was at the Milburn Correctional Facility because he was wrongfully convicted of murdering Nadie Ramos in Mexico. He couldn’t tell you that. What if you didn’t trust him anymore? What if you wanted to call the whole thing off? What if you didn’t trust him around Ellie anymore? There were so many reasons why he didn’t — why he couldn’t — tell you. He couldn’t risk losing you when he just got you back.

“Something told me it was finally time,” Spencer opts, which wasn’t exactly far from the truth. After being in prison for as long he was, he thought about you everyday. He wondered how you were, how Ellie was doing, if you’d thought about him, too. You were the only thing that kept him going in that godforsaken place. “I was, uh, gone for a little bit, as you well know.” He says and you nod at that. “I guess I just realized it was now or never.”

“Right,” You nod. “Now or never.” You look outside the window and Spencer thinks to himself. If he could keep this secret forever, he would. It’s best if he does. He can’t screw up what you two already have going on.

After it’s all said and done, you two walk back into your shared unit, stopping in front of your door— but walking slowly so as to keep prolonging your time with each other. Eventually, you stop short and sigh, “Well, this is me.”

Spencer nods as he bites his lip and scrunches up his nose and his eyes gleam at you as you smile at him — “I had a really great time tonight. It’s been a while since I had a date.”

“Same here,” Spencer nods. “But good, I’m glad.” You both stare at each other for the longest of times and just as you’re about to put a hand on the door, he speaks.

“Y/n,” He begins.

“Yes?” You ask, eagerly hoping he’s about to ask the one thing you’ve been wanting to hear for most of the night.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?” Spencer asks and you smile at him as you look him up and down, gazing at his perfect bodice in front of you. He’s bulked up since the last you saw him, you notice. You look back up at him and his gaze is solely on you. It never moved from you. “I never thought you’d ask.” You say.

And Spencer leans forward, hands placed to your cheeks as he pulls you forward and kisses you, so gently, so lovingly. Holding you like you’re gonna break apart in his hands, soft like your sand weaving between his palms, waiting to wilt away in a summer breeze.

You hold him close to you, not wanting to waste a moment of this, with his lips on yours— kissing him like you mean it and you’re holding him like you’re gonna lose him. Finally, you both back up and you look at each other, lips swollen and parted.

It’s as if you can read the other’s mind because in that moment, you have no idea if it’s you or him, but you find yourself straying towards his apartment door and finding refuge there as he quickly inserts his key into the lock and opens the door and he’s just as quick to shut it as he pushes you against it, hand under your head to make sure you weren’t bumping into the door too hard as you rake your lips from his to his neck and his collarbone as you even trying to unbutton his shirt.

He hikes your leg up over his hip, hand trailing up your thigh as he pulls you toward him and hikes you up as you lay your lips everywhere. He carries you to his bedroom, where he gently lays you down and cowers over you with a smirk and kisses you so lovingly.

“Unzip me?” You ask, sitting up a bit and Spencer shakes his head— “Not yet.”

You furrow your brows and Spencer pushes you back down softly and he bows his head down to your thighs, fingers lacing towards the waistband of your tights and pulling them down slowly. “I want to at least get a chance to taste you while you’re wearing this dress for me. God, I wanted to ravage you in this the minute I saw you.” He confessed and your heat throbbed as his sultry tone and you wiggle the rest of the way out of your tights so they’re easier for him to take off.

Spencer flings them somewhere in the room as you bunch your dress up higher and spread your legs for him. He traces his tongue down your thigh and you clench around nothing as the warmth of his tongue sends shivers down your spine.

He blows a hot breath into your core before moving closer and laying a kissing on your pussy and that’s when you pull him closer to your wet heat and he dives between your folds. You feel his tongue circle on your clit, slurping everything you had for him and his moans vibrating in your walls as he sucks on your clit, making you grip onto the sheets and his hair as you arch your back off the mattress as he gets you to the brink of your orgasm.

The coil breaks and your clit throbs under his touch and he looks at you, eyes blown with a mix of lust and love. You wove your fingers through his hair to get a clear look at him and he smiles warmly at you and you return.

Your hand grazes down to the collar of his shirt and you pull him up to you, placing a soft kiss on his lips. You taste your essence as he glides his tongue through the crevice of your mouth and it’s dizzying, heart beating faster than normal. He’s quick to take notice of that.

“If you want to stop here, that’s okay.” He tells you and you smile at him endearingly. He’d always want you to feel safe, no matter what. And he’d always make sure you’d have total control of the situation. You were sure of it.

“Not a chance I want to stop.” You smirk, pulling him back to your mouth as you move your knee towards his crotch, nudging his bulge aching in his slacks and he takes to moaning in your mouth.

His moaning nearly turns into a whine until he grabs your hands, holding both of them above your head and you swear you’re on the verge of a heart attack with how delicious he looks above you.

Spencer leans down, leaving kisses on your neck and most likely hickeys as you feel his tongue trace the column of your neck. He stops, looking at you. You think he’s looking just because he wants to but he’s looking to make sure you’re enjoying this just as much as he is.

You place a hand on his face, stubble scratching the palm of your hand. Your thumb traces his bottom lip as you stare into his eyes, full of wonder and what you were thinking at that very moment. You never noticed just how golden his eyes were on the inside.

He was so ethereal. He was infinite. One of a kind. The one man you held dear to your heart. You just wanted to bottle up this emotion you had for him and keep it locked away for you and yourself only.

Spencer is the first one to move as he sits up on his knees and begins to unbutton his dress shirt and you take this moment to try and help him unbutton his shirt, starting from the bottom as he starts from the tops and meeting halfway as you finally get the shirt off of him, revealing a white tank, that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him rock before but you could get used to the sight anyhow.

You go to take the shirt off but he grabs your hands to stop you. “If you don’t mind, I’d… I’d like to keep it on. If that’s okay?” Spencer’s eyes are practically pleading with you and of course, you’d never want him to do anything he didn’t want to do. “Of course.” You nod.

You wonder what his big secret is. A third nipple? A weird birthmark in the shape of a foot you might make fun of? No belly button? The possibilities were endless. But you didn’t have much time to dwell on it when he pulled you close to him and began to unzip your dress with your body flush against his.

He pulls the sleeves of the dress, revealing the fact that you decided not to wear a bra underneath your dress. Spencer looks up at you with an amused smirk on his face. “A bra would’ve just ruined the dress.” You shrug and Spencer shrugs right along with you, “Oh, I’m not complaining.” He leans forward, kissing your nipple before fully suctioning on it like it’s his lifeline.

It seemed that the man you went out with had some kind of oral fixation. Spencer lets go with a pop as he looks up at you, “Did you know that it’s possible for women to experience an orgasm solely from nipple stimulation? It’s not as common as achieving orgasm through direct genital stimulation but some women may find that focused nipple play can lead to a full-blown climax.” You look at him with a surprised look but somehow even more aroused at the fact that he just knows that? You knew he was smart but damn, using his facts while having sex with you? A whole type of rush in itself.

You stop yourself from rocking against him and pull him back to face you. “Maybe we can test that theory another time,” You tell him. “I need you inside of me.”

Spencer nods and stands up, reaching into the desk next to his bed and pulls out a box of condoms and you furrow your brows at him with amusement. Spencer takes notice of this. “Luke-Luke said I should… be prepared.” He admits, shyly and you smile at this.

Spencer removes his slacks, as well as his boxers and sits down on the bed as you remove the rest of the dress off your body and toss it on the ground as Spencer rolls the condom onto his cock.

He turns towards you, staring at you hungrily and hovers over your body, like you’re prey, ready to be slaughtered. And by God, you’d let him eat you any day. Spencer probes a finger towards your entrance and you gasp at the feeling. “God, you’re so wet.” He comments, moving his finger deeper inside of you, gently moving it back and forth. You grab onto his taut bicep and relish in the feeling of this. He’s not even in you yet and he’s making you feel things you never thought you’d feel again.

This continues for a minute more but you’re tired of the teasing. “Spencer…” You pout and he chuckles, “Alright, angel girl. I’ll give you what you want.” Spencer steadies himself on top of you and that’s when you get a good look at him.

Spencer’s… huge, to say the least. Thick in girth and in length, you’d say he had to have been at least eight inches. You’d always imagined he was packing, but Jesus. Needless to say, you’d been intimidated by Spencer’s dick. You’d had big before, but never big like Spencer.

You gulp and Spencer, like he has been all night, noticed your behavior once more. “What’s wrong?” He asks and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Nothing, it’s just… will it fit?” You wonder and Spencer looks back down in between you two and says — “I’ll go slow. Tell me if you need me to stop at all and I will, okay?” You nod at his words.

With that, Spencer’s tip captures your hole and he plugs the tip in. He sticks a few inches in and you moan, grabbing Spencer’s bicep again as he does everything he can not to cum here and now. “God… you’re so tight.” He groans and you reveal, “It’s been a while.”

“I’m gonna try to move, okay?” Spencer moves a piece of hair away from your face as he leans close to your face. “You let me know at all if you need me to stop.” You nod at him and he sticks more of himself inside of you, peppering your face with kisses and words of affirmation.

“You’re so perfect.”

“So good for me.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Those are just the few testaments he showers you with. It’s a thin line between pain and pleasure but pleasure overtakes pain and he moves within you, hips grinding against yours as you two fit together like a piece of a puzzle.

“Can you… Can you go faster?” You ask him and he looks down at you, “You want me to go faster?” He repeats and you nod, “Please, please.” You beg.

He’s animalistic in his next movements and holds your hands above your head and drives his hips harder into you and you nearly shriek at how good it feels. The bed creaks as he whispers in your ear about how good you’re doing for him, how he’s waited so long for this, how beautiful you are. You’re too far gone to hear any of it because he’s absolutely railing you right now.

You rock your own body against his and he places kisses on your collarbone and mutters against your skin — “Do you want to cum, angel?” He asks and you gasp, “Please, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, at this point. He’s willing to give you everything.

“Then say you’re mine. Say you’re mine and you can cum. Can you do that, angel, please?”

His own tone makes it sounds like he’s begging, which he is. He’d worried he’d regret it later, damaging you was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I’m— I’m yours. Forever yours.” You breathe.

“Then, cum. You can do it, angel.”

And you see white as your pussy shudders against his cock and he gasps and even lets out a low whimper at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. You soon feel the warmth of him cumming inside of the condom inside of you. He even has to cover your mouth with his hand so your moans and shouts don’t reverberate in the walls.

Eventually, he collapses against your body, and you both pant and take breaths to calm down after your sexual encounter. Spencer lifts his head up and then looks at you, with the same love and adoration he held so dearly at the beginning of your date. You wonder how lucky you are, how much love he truly has for you, if this is all a dream. You’ve fallen for him. And you’ve fallen for him, hard.

“Hi.” You find that your voice is hoarse as you speak to him. “Hi.” He says back, lifting himself off of you and landing next to you on the bed so as not to smother any further.

Spencer pulls your body close to his and holds you against him and you hold him tightly, not wanting to let go, if it was the last thing you did. He holds you and you feel a kiss on the top of your head and mutters against your head — “Are you okay?” He asks.

You smile, moving your head to look up at him — “I’m perfect.” He grazes his eyes from your eyes to your lips and before you know it, you both lean in for a kiss.

You stay there like that, for the rest of the night. At least, after he cleans the both of you off and he discards the condom. And he later readjusts his body to lay against yours, head resting on your chest as you play with his hair and you smile to yourself. You still can’t believe it. You’ve fallen so hard for him. If he breaks your heart, you’d be done for. He’s everything you want and more.

As you stay there, you lean over to grab your phone and find a text message from Penelope.

Penelope💘: I take it by his late it is, you’re staying over? 😉🥰🫣

You shake your head as you send a reply back.

You: Tell Ellie I love her and that I’ll be home tomorrow morning.

Penelope💘: What? No details????

You: I don’t kiss and tell, Penelope 🙈

Penelope💘: So kissing was involved!!!

You roll your eyes as you set your phone back down and ruffle Spencer’s hair softly. This was the most peaceful you’ve seen him. You were sure he was asleep by now.

And in this moment in time, you prayed for more nights like this. In his bed, with his love and with his heart in your hands. He’d make you the happiest person in the world if you’d let him.

And maybe you might just let him.

already told lover this but as a big chested woman, thank you for doing god’s work 🫡

MORE TO LOVE

In which Spencer proves to you how much he loves your big breasts.

pairing spencer reid x gf!reader genre smut (18+) cw reader has big breasts and is insecure bc of porn standards, just 6k words of tit worship: tit play, tit sucking, tit fucking. lots of teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v, cum play, creampie, reader wears a dress and lingerie, spencer is clingy and horny, spencer and reader are slightly tipsy, soft!dom!spence wc 6,3k a/n for my big tit girls <3 i hope someone can relate to this, and if you don't, i hope you can still enjoy! thank u lovely @esote-rika for proofreading

Everyone who’s had the honor of meeting Spencer Reid in an informal setting is aware of the fact that he isn’t a drinker. You’d score an indefinite amount of points in his book if you have something besides alcohol to offer. And Spencer isn’t picky — some trail mix in a bowl works as a good enough replacement. 

So, being surprised was an understatement when Spencer suggested coming to the bar where you were having drinks with your friends. The case he was on got wrapped up quicker than anticipated. He was about to walk to your apartment to spend the night with you when he remembered you were out with friends. 

It was the plan to pick you up and walk you home, making some light conversation with your friends while he was at it (for the amount of months you’d been dating, he should invest more time in getting to know the people who are close to you). He hadn’t planned on drinking, even surprising himself when he downed the two shots of liquor that one of your friends handed him. But he had no choice. Not when he walked into the bar and noticed you dancing in the crowd. Not when you were wearing that tiny black dress that was on his mind ever since he’d found it in your closet. Not when you turned around, your eyes twinkling and a bright smile tugging at your lips when you noticed him. And certainly not when his gaze had lowered and landed on the cleavage that was close to spilling out of your dress. He truly needed the liquid courage to get through the night. 

Now, standing on the corner outside of the bar, waiting for an Uber, you didn’t even notice the cold of the night as your body buzzed with the warmth of alcohol in your system combined with Spencer’s touches. He stood close to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as he pressed gentle kisses to the curve of your neck — acting uncharacteristically clingy now that there’s alcohol in his system. 

“So this is the real reason why you don’t drink, huh?” You ask Spencer in a chuckle, feigning annoyance while actually feeling very flattered by his sudden clinginess, which he rarely displays when sober. 

“You’re just so pretty.” He says in a lack of a better explanation. 

He had his palm placed flat on your stomach, the heat of him radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. He squeezed the soft skin before his hand moved up your body at a concerningly fast speed.

“Hey there, mister,” you say in a playful warning, placing your hand on top of his to stop him in his tracks. “We’re still in public. Remember?”

He grumbled some incoherent words as his fingers toyed with the underwire of your bra.  “I like this dress.”

You smile, a flush creeping up your neck, glad he can’t see how much you’re enjoying this. “Yeah?” 

He hums in confirmation. “I’d like it even better off of you.”

The flush has now found its way to your cheeks, heating your skin as your heartbeat raced.

He presses a kiss to your jawline. “Bet you’d look so pretty.”

Your cheeks were on fire at this point. The butterflies in your stomach set free. 

“Want to see you naked.”

Then, everything comes to a halt.

“N-naked?”

He nods against your neck, his soft curls nuzzling you. 

Spencer doesn’t notice the way you tense up. To be fair, he’s not noticing any of his surroundings, completely focused on the way you feel in his grasp. 

His statement wasn’t weird. It shouldn’t have thrown you off like it did. He’s been your boyfriend for over three months — nearing the four-month mark — and you’ve had sex a lot of times. Still, he has never seen you naked. At least, not completely. 

All the times you’d had sex, you kept your bra on. They were cute bras, sexy lingerie sets that had cost you a fortune — specifically because the bra sizes you were looking for were like trying to find a signed limited edition of Kafka’s Metamorphosis. (You spoke from experience, having fought everyone on the internet to get a copy for Spencer’s birthday). All this effort was to hide one thing, well, two things really: your breasts. And it worked. Spencer was always hypnotized the second you took your top off. He had asked before if he could take your bra off, but when you rationally responded with, “It was so expensive, it would be a waste to take it off,” he always agreed, cupping your tits through the lacy fabric and forgetting why he ever complained. 

This is a good example that shows how considerate Spencer is. He’d let the subject slide with every weak excuse you made, never asking any prying questions. You knew it didn’t make sense to think Spencer would be turned off by the way your breasts look without a bra. He is obsessed with them covered, let alone when they’re not, your friends had told you. Still, doubt gnawed at you. He was a man. Men watch porn. You knew of his exes, how they have a different body type from yours. You were just afraid you’d shatter the illusion — that he’d be disappointed when he found out that your breasts aren’t as perky without support, how your nipples aren't placed symmetrically in the middle, how stretch marks covered the skin. 

“Are you alright?”

Spencer’s voice rattles you out of your thoughts. You swallow. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The knuckle of his index finger tilts your chin, coercing you to look at him. His eyes looked sweet — a little tired, very lustful, but sweet nonetheless. 

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Three simple words, and still it felt like a large weight fell off your shoulders, allowing you to breathe again. “I know,” you respond with a nod, reaching out to cup his jaw. Your thumb grazes his light stubble, then gently brushes against the hidden scar underneath his chin. 

“I love you,” you say back.

The intimate moment is of short duration. Spencer tilts his head, then raises his hand to signal to the Uber, who just drives into the street. 

You mumble a soft thanks as Spencer holds the door open for you. You crawl into the backseat, and he follows behind you, clicking his seatbelt on and giving the driver the address to your home.

“Driver, roll up the partition, please,” you sing under your breath as the Uber driver does so.

“Beyoncé?”

You gasp, placing a hand on your heart to emphasize your surprise. “Wow, I’ve taught you so much.”

“You teach me lots of things,” he says with a goofy grin. 

And he meant it. You did teach the all-knowing genius quite a lot. Whether you’d consider sharing your excessive pop-culture knowledge as impressive as the facts he rambled about was questionable. But the information was useful, nonetheless. 

His eyes flicker from the driver back to you, saying his next words just loud enough for you to hear. “I don’t think it would be a smart idea if you were to get on your knees, though.”

Your lips curl, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. His comment is a reference to the song; still you could tell there was a slight invitation behind his words. 

“You don’t think so?” You tease.

He scootches forward in his seat. His eyes roam over your body, halting on your cleavage, then move up to your pouty lips.

“It’s a pretty cramped space,” he settles on saying, his voice hoarse. “Not even mentioning the fact that partitions are made of polycarbonate — which does absorb up to 34 decibels on average, but that’s not enough for you.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Not enough for me?”

He places a hand on your bare knee, thumbing the skin. “You’re pretty loud,” he recalls, his eyes finding yours. 

You chuckle, your gaze falling down to his hand, which was slowly creeping its way up your thigh. His fingertips were digging into the muscle, massaging it with care. The act is enough to turn you on, though you were already turned on by the kisses that he had left on your neck earlier. The memory is still vivid in your mind. 

“It’s not fair to blame it on me,” you tell Spencer. “You’re the reason for making me scream.”

He breaks eye contact, but not before you could catch the sparkle in his dark irises. He was trying to hold himself together; you could tell. He licks his lips, tucking a loose curl of hair behind his ear, before leaning in. His shoulder brushes against yours, his hot breath leaving goosebumps as his mouth traces the shell of your ear.

“Will you scream again for me tonight?” 

-`♡´-

Spencer’s kisses were all tongue, holding your jaw as he claimed you. There was no fight for dominance — you had surrendered the second he had closed the front door behind you. You had kicked your heels off at the same speed as he had thrown his blazer and tie on the ground. 

Large palms grip your face, connecting his lips back to yours as you blindly stumble through the living room in search of your bedroom. You know you’ve reached your destination as the back of your knees hit the mattress. 

Spencer pulls back. A deep exhale leaves his lips, caressing your cheek with the knuckles of his hand. “So beautiful,” he whispers, taking you in. 

You pull him back in by his collar, kissing him fervently. The lace of your underwear is bundled up between your folds, the material completely soaked. You roll your hips, moaning against Spencer’s mouth because of the slight friction it causes. 

Spencer notices what you’re doing. What you need. He grabs your ass, pulling you flush against him in a swift motion. Another moan escapes your throat as he locks his leg in between yours. Your dress rides up and he sees it as an invitation, rubbing his knee against where you need him most.

You let out a cry, the first one of the night.  

Spencer’s hands make way under the thin straps of your dress, pulling them down your arms, making your skin ignite. He pulls the dress down lower in a slight struggle as he tugs the fabric over your chest. Finally he frees your breasts, still covered with the lacy bra you’re wearing, but visible enough for his mouth to water. 

He pinches your nipples between both of his thumbs and index fingers, making your eyes roll back. “So needy, aren’t you, angel?”

His question isn’t meant to sound condescending — quite the opposite, actually. Still, you feel like he’s enjoying the way you’re all glossy-eyed and fawn-legged, feeling like you can come undone by the slightest of his touches. 

He continues stripping you down, revealing you inch by inch until the dress you had so carefully picked out in the evening is now pooled at your feet. 

Spencer gently presses you on the mattress, pushing your knees open as he takes place on the ground in between your legs. 

He hooks his hands behind your knees, scooting you a bit forward. His hands trail to your inner thighs, making you gasp as his fingertips dance over your skin ever so slowly. 

His touch was a delicious tickle, not one that you wanted to scratch, but one that you wanted to last forever. The heat in your core builds with every swipe of his digits. Your chest is heaving, his fingers so close to your throbbing pussy. 

“These are so damp,” he observes, curving his finger around the string of your underwear. “Think we should take these off, hm?”

A breathy moan leaves your lips. 

Spencer looks up at you, head cocking. He’s waiting for you to answer. You nod your head, hands gripping the bed sheets. “Yes. Want them off.”

He’s satisfied with your response, propping the material to the side to reveal your glistening cunt.

“God, you’re perfect.” He praises in awe. 

Perfect. 

You blink the thought away. There was no room for your anxieties as his tongue made contact with your pussy. You gasp, clenching your stomach and squirming forward, hands immediately finding their way into his hair. 

He uses the flat of his tongue to lick stripes up your folds, then uses the tip of his tongue to add pressure with every swipe against your clit. 

“Tastes so sweet,” he says, letting go of your swollen clit with a pop. 

You’re balancing yourself on the palms of your hands, back arched and head thrown back, giving yourself over to the pleasure. A rough hand gripped your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh. His curls disappear between your legs again. Then that same rough hand… but now around your breast. 

You didn’t notice anything at first — too caught up in the buzz of his hands and mouth on you. That was until he pulled the cup of your bra down, your breast spilling free.

“Spence!” You squeal. 

The sound could pass as a moan to anyone else, but Spencer knows the way you sound. His hands drop from your body, mouth pulling away, leaving you empty but giving you enough time to quickly cover yourself up. His pretty face is etched with confusion. “What is it?” 

“You pulled my bra down.”

“Did I break it?”

You didn’t even think of that. You turn your head to your collarbone, then pull on the strap. “No. It’s fine.”

“Then what’s wrong?” He repeats, golden-speckled eyes blinking up at you. “I told you that I can buy you some new brassières. I don’t mind.”

“It’s not that, Spencer,” you sigh. 

It isn’t fair to get irritated by him. The first step to a good relationship is communication — it’s a sentence you’ve become sick of with the amount of times you hear it, but that doesn’t make it less true.

“Do you…” you’ve now started your sentence. There’s no going back. “You… You like my boobs. Right?”

It’s like watching a mime; the way his eyes widen in surprise, then the wheels in his mind seem to turn, his eyes narrow, and a frown line forms between them. 

“Of course I do,” he says, standing up from his spot in between your legs. 

You’re scared that you’ve ruined it. That the mood is gone now that he’s aware there’s something keeping your mind busy. 

“I thought it was clear how much I like your breasts,” he assures, gently helping you up by your wrists and pulling you into a hug. His arms make you feel more covered, less vulnerable, because he’s still wearing a button-up and pants, while you’re merely clothed in your flimsy lingerie, wetness still coating your inner thighs. 

He presses a kiss to your hair. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t like them.”

You still need to get used to being in a relationship with someone so emotionally mature. He truly had nothing to apologize for. It’s the voices in your head that tell you that he doesn’t like them. He’s never given you any reason to doubt yourself. 

“You haven’t, Spence. I swear. I’m just-“ you’re glad you’re talking to his chest right now, not having to face him as the next words leave your lips. “I’m scared you won’t like them anymore once you see them… bare. They don’t look the same as when I’m wearing a bra.” 

You can feel his slight chuckle reverberating from his chest. “I don’t look the same without clothes on either.”

Yes, he looks even better. His clothes hide the muscles in his arms, the thickness of his thighs, the soft flesh of his tummy. 

“They just… you know. Sag a bit.” You whisper the last words, feeling like you’ve just admitted to a foul crime. The room stays silent, and his hold on you lessens.

He pulls back enough to see your face, a playful glint still shimmering in his eyes. “I have three PhD's, one of them being in physics, and you don’t think I know how gravity works?”

Well, you weren’t expecting that answer.

“I know it’s natural and all,” you shrug. “They just don’t look like they do in porn. I felt like I needed to warn you.”

He cups your face, making you look at him; a sweet smile lingers on his lips. “If I wanted a pornstar,” the word sounded foreign on his lips, “I wouldn’t be here right now. I want you. All of you.”

You nuzzle your face into the warmth of his palm. Words were just words, but you’d never find out if he meant them if you didn’t give him a chance. You swallow, gathering courage as you take a step back, just enough room for him to fully observe you, his tall figure standing over you. 

Your fingers make their way to your back, trying to ignore their shaking as you reach the clasp of your bra. You maintain eye contact with Spencer, trying to see if he’d change his mind, but so far his hazel eyes are just filled with anticipation and need.

You take in a deep breath, then undo all three clasps at once, ripping the band-aid off. The relief is immediate, certain that there’d be marks on your skin because of the biting underwire. 

Spencer’s jaw slackens. His irises grow with every inch of skin that reveals as you pull the cups down. Then — in a quick move of your hand — you fully remove the bra from your body. 

“Jesus,” Spencer says breathlessly. 

Anxiety flashes through you like a sudden strike of lightning. Your hands reach out to cover yourself up. “I shouldn’t have-“

Warm hands lock around your wrists, gently pulling them away. “I didn’t even imagine you could look this beautiful.” 

His voice was tinged with complete adoration as he took you in. Your mind had to do a double take to signal to you that you’ve heard him properly. Beautiful. 

You play with your hands, squeezing the tips of your fingers to keep yourself from hiding the curves that were on display. “You don’t have to say that.”

He took a step forward, his fingers knitting through yours. “I’m not just saying it,” he guides your intertwined hands to his pants; your breath catches as you notice the outline of his cock bulging through the fabric. He places your hands on his cock, squeezing your fingers around his length. A breathy ah escapes his mouth, his head slightly thrown back as you start moving your hands on your own accord.

“This is all for you. This is what you do to me,” his voice rasps. 

Your thumb moves to his tip, circling the sensitive spot until you see a wet patch forming. Spencer’s hips stutter, bucking into your touch. “Let me prove to you how much I love you. Please, angel.”

His plea was one out of pure desperation. Not only was he dying to touch you, but it had been several hours since he’d first seen you in that dress. Several hours of fighting the urge to bury his cock deep inside of you. 

“I need you so bad, Spence,” you mumble back, nails grazing his clothed cock. 

A loud moan escapes from his throat. He doesn’t waste any time, holding you by your waist and letting the two of you fall onto the bed. You squeal, your tits bouncing from the effort. 

“God, look at you,” he groans, making way in between your legs as you lay down. Your breasts have fallen to the sides of your body, framing you deliciously. Spencer leans in, teasing you as he licks a wet stripe right up your breastbone, curls tickling your pillowy curves, but not yet touching them. 

He swallows your whiny moans by kissing you. His tongue hastily meets yours. He can’t help but grind himself against the softness of your inner thigh, seeking relief as his arousal continues to grow. 

Your mind is spinning. The contrast between his fully clothed body and your naked, vulnerable state is stark. His strong hands grip your delicate face as he kisses you deeper. 

With a catch for breath, Spencer pulls back. His dick twitches as he looks at you — eyes full of desire, pouty swollen lips, hard nipples begging to be touched, and your pussy glistening, ready for him to use. 

“You drive me absolutely crazy, sweetheart.”

You reach out to let your hands roam over his chest, pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Please, take it off.”

He nods, making a quick effort to take his shirt off, throwing it haphazardly to the ground. With slightly shaky legs, he gets to his knees on the bed, hands fumbling with his belt, too busy staring at you.

You can’t escape the moan that leaves your lips as you see the first dusty brown hairs appear on his pubic bone. He pulls his pants down lower, revealing the thick shaft of his throbbing cock. You’re not even aware of your own hand sliding down your body, gasping as your middle finger touches your swollen clit, the feeling electrifying.

“Getting yourself off just by looking at me? I thought that was my job.”

His slacks and boxers fall to his knees, his cock slapping up against his abdomen. You felt almost guilty for teasing him this long — his tip was just as red as his rosy lips, leaking shiny precum. And his cum-filled balls stood strained, like he could bust at any moment. Your middle finger slips into your warm pussy easily, eyes rolling back as you curve your knuckle, hitting that delicious spot hidden inside of you. 

Spencer takes his pants completely off, then grabs your wrist, pulling your finger out swiftly, the motion making a sloppy, wet sound. You whine, bucking your hips up in the air. He moves your hand to his mouth, connecting his lips around your wet finger as he sucks on the digit.

He swirled his tongue, collecting all of your sweet juices and moaning in appreciation. “You can wait a little longer,” he purrs as he pops your finger out of his mouth. 

All you want to do is touch yourself again, especially now that that finger has been in his pretty mouth, but he doesn’t give you the chance as he holds your wrists together, locking them above your head. 

“You can’t show me your beautiful body and then expect me not to worship it,” he softly breathes, leaning in, his lips ghosting your cheek. 

You wiggle in his grasp, making him squeeze his fingers around your wrist. “Be good for me and keep your hands up like this, okay?”

You could say no. Could decline his proposal and have his cock pounding into your aching pussy with just one word. But where would the fun be in that?

“Okay,” you nodded, anticipation bubbling in your core. 

Spencer let go of your hands, and as promised, you intertwined your own fingers, keeping them in place above your head. For a second he just looked at you, taking you in and not knowing where to start. Like a feast that looked delicious from head to toe. But he was the only guest, so he could take his sweet time savoring all of you.

He eventually made his decision. His thumbs and pointer fingers each cupped a breast from the side, then lifted them up so they pressed perfectly against each other.  

A groan left his throat as he bounced them, tongue darting out as he played with your tits in an adorable fascination. “Is this okay?”

You hum, a soft smile lingering on your face. “Yeah, you can be rougher; I won’t break.”

He displayed his fingers over your breasts, experimentally starting to massage the pillowy, plump skin like he’d do with your thighs. Your nipples hardened under his touch, inducing a moan from the both of you. 

His thumbs swiped over your buds synchronously, causing you to whimper. His brows rose lightly, the same look he’d have every time he’d have an epiphany; he then pinched your nipples, slightly turning them as he pulled. Your back arched on the bed, accompanied by a heavenly sounding moan. 

“So sensitive, aren’t you?” He muses. “My poor girl, depraved herself for so long.” 

You could only cry, begging for more. 

“That won’t happen again,” he gently reassures, thumbing your nipples, sending electrifying sparks to your clit. “I’ll make sure to give them all the attention they deserve, hm?”

You hastily nod in agreement, your voice a soft whimper. “Please.”

He leaned down, settling in between your legs, hissing when his cock grazed against your soft inner thigh. 

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he whispered, breath fanning your sensitive skin. He stuck his tongue out, and you couldn’t wait to experience how he’d feel lapping on your tits, if it were to feel just as incredible as having his tongue on your pussy.

Your question was quickly confirmed as he licked a wet stripe over the bud. The cool air that followed formed goosebumps on the skin. He cupped your breast tightly in his hand, leaning in again to repeat the motion, then again, until the bud glimmered under the bedroom light. He squeezed your other tit, making sure to give that one the same amount of attention as he swirled his tongue around the same bud. 

The only sounds that filled the space were your longing moans and the smooching of his kisses. You lay still, hands kept patiently up as you let him use you like a canvas, painting your skin with gentle strokes of his tongue.  

It was after a few more teasing licks that he closed his lips around the bud, cheeks hollowing as he sucked. You gasped, not being able to help yourself as your hands shot to his hair. He didn’t mind though, moaning around you as you tugged on the locks. He let go of your nipple, placing featherlight kisses and sucks on your chest before finding his way to your other breast, connecting his lips to it. The feeling was so dizzying, and you swore that you could come by just a single tap to your clit. 

He opened his eyes to look at you, blown wide pupils locking with yours as he continued to suck. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he was waiting for you to tell him that he was doing a good job, that he was pleasing you. 

“God, you look so beautiful,” you say in a moan. “Make me feel so good.” His eyes twinkled at the compliment, and he grinded his length against your leg as if to say the sentiment was mutual. 

He released your nipple from his mouth, hoisting himself up to press a kiss to your lips. His tongue moved around yours in the same way as it had done to your body just a moment ago. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” kiss, “can’t get enough of you,” another kiss, “need more.” 

An idea sparked in the back of your mind. It was something you’d never tried before, not with anyone, but you could imagine it feeling good. He has fucked your thighs before. Your mouth. Your pussy. The only thing that was missing was—

“Do you want to fuck my tits?”

“Oh God, yes,” Spencer instantly groaned in response. You giggled as he made quick work of moving up the bed, placing a knee on either side of your upper body. His hard cock was just inches away from you; a string of precum coated his tip, dripping onto you. You reached out, finger gathering the sticky essence before suckling on the digit.

Spencer’s hips twitched, releasing another thick drop of precum. “You have to stop doing that.”

“Why?” You teased, proudly showing your clean finger. 

He groaned, both in frustration and longing. “Because I will come all over you before I’ve even fucked you.”

You laugh, turning him on even more without it being on purpose. You placed your hands flat against your tits, squeezing them together invitingly. “Come on, then.”

Spencer grips himself by the base, tapping his tip against your soft cleavage before sliding himself in between your breasts. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back. He’s too aroused to start out slow, instantly slamming his hips up in a steady rhythm. His upper thighs slap against your breasts, recreating the dirty sounds he'd make if he were actually fucking you.

“You feel so good like this,” he whimpers. “Always so good to me, angel.” 

He reaches out to pinch your nipples, making sure to bring you pleasure as well. Not like you weren’t enjoying this — Spencer was so, so pretty; you could stare at him for hours: his jaw slack, moans and groans spilling from his swollen lips like a song sung just for you, his chest and neck covered in red splotches from the heat of your bodies, his slick, pink tip rubbing against your chest, his veiny hands playing with your tits as he kept looking at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration… You couldn’t get enough. 

“I’m so close, baby,” he pants, his cock twitching, using the wetness that had gathered between your breasts as lube to move his hips faster against you. 

“That’s okay,” you encourage breathlessly, pressing your tits closer together, creating more friction for him. “Let go for me, Spence.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. One of his hands clasps around your shoulder, the other kneading the soft flesh of your breast as he thrusts his hips forward once more. His muscles tense, and you catch that look on his face — the look that tells you he’s right on the edge. Your prediction gets confirmed as a throaty whine escapes his throat, followed by warm spurts of white shooting onto your neck and chest. You’re able to catch a few drops by sticking out your tongue, swallowing, and sticking it out again to show him the proof.

“You drive me absolutely crazy, angel,” he says awestruck, climbing off of your body and staying seated beside you. 

You hum as you take in the way he has painted your chest, tracing your skin with your index finger, creating small drawings. He looks at you mesmerized, then blinks. “We should clean you up.”

“I got it,” you announce, cupping your breast up to your face and licking a firm stripe across the skin. 

A gasp sounded beside you, and you couldn’t help the sly grin that formed on your face as Spencer looked at you in pure surprise.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

You giggled, placing your lips around your nipple as you gave a gentle suck while focusing on your boyfriend, whose cock was hardening again. 

“Acting so needy when you’ve been pleasing yourself all this time,” he tsked. “Such a dirty girl.” 

He matched your smile, cupping your face and bending over to lightly caress your lips with his once again. You moan in satisfaction, licking his bottom lip to be invited in. Your lips acted in a familiar play, experimentally moving around each other until you figured out each other’s moves, able to feel the urgent need in the way his tongue stroked yours, signaling back to him that you’re feeling the same by biting down on his bottom lip.

He groaned in response, his hands sneaking around your waist to hoist you up. “You’ve done enough hard work; you deserve to lie down now,” you joke as he gently makes way onto the soft bed sheets, holding onto your even softer thighs as you straddle him. 

His cock feels heavy in your hands as you position it underneath your throbbing pussy, shuddering as you tease your walls with the slick head. 

“You look so beautiful,” he praises, moving his warm hands up and down your hips, easing the strain you feel when you slowly sink down onto his length. You gasp when his thick tip disappears between your folds, but his sweet moans calm you down. Oh, you’re so tight. Just a little more, just like that. You’re doing so good for me, angel. 

“Oh my God, Spence,” you moan as your hips make contact with his. The stinging has eased into a delicious sense of being full, placing your hands on top of his tummy to keep yourself steady as you start rocking your hips. Spencer gives a firm squeeze, fingertips digging into the curve of your ass, sure it’s going to leave marks. 

You move your body up and down, breasts swaying with every one of your movements, the act completely hypnotizing Spencer. His head feels fuzzy and his throat dry as he watches you, not being able to believe how lucky he got. 

You up your speed, moaning and whimpering as you use his cock as your personal toy, his voice and face working as porn as he shudders in pure bliss underneath you. 

“Taking me— fuck — so well, baby,” he whines. Spencer places the soles of his feet flat on the bed, holding you tightly by your waist as he lifts his body up.

“Spencer!” you cry as his cock drives deeper into you. 

“Hm, I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs in apology. “Just want to help you out.”

You nod — because even though you’re very much enjoying taking the lead, you know how good it feels when Spencer helps you out by pounding into you. So that’s what you do: sinking down onto him, meeting each of his thrusts as he bucks his hips up.

“Is it painful?” he asks considerately, nodding toward the way your heavy breasts bounce with each push of his hips.

You shrug, “Just a bit.” To be fair, you’re way too focused on the way your core tightens every time he buries his cock in your pussy, hitting that sweet spot inside of you as the veins decorated around his shaft tease your inner walls — to even care.

His large hands find their place on your breasts, squeezing them once, then twice, then looking back in your eyes. “I can work as your personal brassière.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Ah, how civil.”

“Did you know brassières were only invented in 1893? It’s fascinating because technically the first brassières dated back to ancient Greece. Actually, in Book 14 of Homer’s Iliad, there’s a reference to Aphrodite’s embroidered girdle.”

You hum, leaning forward to catch his lips. “And did you know that you talk too much?” You tease as you press another kiss to his mouth. “And did you know that no one uses the word brassières anymore?”

“But it’s the correct term!”

There’s only one other way to shut him up. You cradle your hands underneath his head, bending while tilting his head up to press his face against your tits. 

“Hmpf,” he mouths against your breasts, before easily finding your nipple to latch on. 

You hold onto the headboard, relishing in his touch as you pick up your rhythm again. His cock hits even deeper inside of you in this position. There’s something so electrifying about the stimulation of your breasts in combination with the pleasure against your G-spot. A feeling so electrifying you doubt you can hold on much longer. 

“Getting close, Spence,” you cry as his hands cradle your ass, holding the cheeks open as he pumps his length in and out of you.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Wait on me.”

His hot breath fans against your wet nipples, and you cry loudly, gripping the headboard until your knuckles turn white.

“I can’t, Spence. I can’t — feels so fucking good.”

“Yes, you can. Just a little longer. Make me proud, angel; I know you can.”

You tighten your walls around him — maybe it can be considered as cheating — but it works. Spencer groans as he bites down on your breast, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you squeal.

Spencer holds you tight against him, chests pressing together as he moves his hips with force. “That’s it — Oh, I’m close. Let go for me.” 

With one more jolt of his hips, you come undone. You cry incoherent words in the crook of his shoulder. Your legs are shaking from the strain of holding them open for so long. Your pussy flutters around him repeatedly until Spencer’s legs quiver in the same way as yours, filling you up with his warmth.

He groans in satisfaction, pushing his hips up a few more times to make sure his release is buried deep inside of you. The round head of his cock slips out of your folds. You let out a sharp gasp, still feeling the print he had left inside of you. You can feel the way your pussy twitches as his cum drips out of you and dribbles onto his thighs.

Spencer pulls some hairs out of your face, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as you settle your head down on his sweaty chest.

“It's okay,” he soothes you. “You did so good.”

You smile sheepishly, drawing figures on his chest. “Yeah?”

He mirrors your smile. “Yeah. You did perfectly.” Another kiss to your face. “My beautiful, brilliant girl.”

Your heart does a leap out of joy. It’s easy to say afterward, but you can’t believe how you were ever scared to show yourself to him. Now only regretting not having done it sooner as you see the physical proof of how enamored he is with you. Maybe you didn’t fit the ideal you’d been forced to fit in all of your life, but if anything, there’s only more to love.

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spencer reid + hands

Free Now

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re about to get married to the man of your dreams. But the person you’re supposed to get married to knows that the man of your dreams isn’t him and instead is your best friend — your man of honor, so to speak. He might’ve just done you a favor.

Category: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: wedding themes, pre-wedding jitters, Grey’s Anatomy 3x25 “Didn’t We Almost Have It All?” spoilers, getting left (technically) at the altar, spencer being a supportive cutie patootie, reader is lowkey confusing, reader is Cristina Yang coded, reader’s husband-to-be is sweet, crying, lil meltdowns, angst turned fluff- i think that’s it

Author’s Note: in honor of 600 followers and an idea i got rewatching Grey’s Anatomy, this was the result lol so thank y’all for the love and support <33 this one’s for you :)

It was your wedding day, you were anxious to say the least. But why were you? You had the dream guy, your dream day, dream cake, dream dress, everything was perfect. Why were you still so scared?

You paced around the room, commemorating your vows to memory, or trying to at least. Luckily, you’d chosen your best friend, Spencer as your man of honor. He’d had an eidetic memory so it was so easy for him to remember your vows. You’d chosen him as a man of honor since you were probably closest to him out of everyone at the BAU. Of course, you were close to Emily, JJ and Penelope, no doubt about it — but you and Spencer had a bond. An unbreakable one.

And then it was time for the big show. Your husband-to-be waiting at the end of the aisle for you. And you stood frozen in fear at the fact. Of course, Emily, one of your more observant bridesmaids noticed you looking as white as your dress and asked — “What’s wrong?”

You completely blanked on your vows. How could you blank on your vows? Was this an omen for how shitty your marriage was going to turn out? Were you doomed for an ending like this? Oh, God, were you even ready to get married at all?

Spencer, ever so being the gentleman he was, even began reciting your vows word for word for you but you couldn’t even think. You couldn’t even move. Could you even breathe? How do you breathe? Your heart’s racing at a million miles per hour. What do you do?

And then within two minutes, your soon-to-be husband walks through those doors and makes that decision for you. It’s a decision you couldn’t make yourself. You swore to yourself that you’d be happy with Ryan. He was a good guy. He was everything you ever wanted. Right?

During those two minutes, everyone had been talking you off the ledge because you began to question if you wanted to through with marrying him. And right when Ryan walked out was when you decided you were ready.

“Oh, my gosh! I’m sorry! I’m ready now, I promise.” You tell Ryan and the man looks at you. Ryan’s giving you this look of love which is beginning to turn unrequited. As you reassure him that you think you want this, that you want to marry him, he turns to Spencer.

Ryan always respected you and Spencer’s friendship. But he couldn’t help but notice how Spencer was always around, always there at your beckon call, you’d even had him as your emergency contact. And he noticed how Spencer was staring at you as you spoke to him and how sad he looked. He’d noticed Spencer always lingering but never in a bad way. More so in a ‘I love you but I want you to be happy’ kind of way. He’d never been jealous of Spencer, no. In fact, he pitied him. And maybe he was just now realizing that the right person for you all along wasn’t him but Spencer.

Ryan could tell all over your face that you weren’t ready. Not with him, at least. “I’m sorry.” He tells and you furrow your brows and look back at Penelope, not really knowing what to say. “I’m sorry, I had a freak out. But I’m ready.”

“No, you’re not,” Ryan said. “Y/n, I love you and I am so ready to marry you. But I know you’re not ready. At least not for me.” You don’t pay attention to how he slyly glances up towards Spencer.

You’re so confused. Did he not want this anymore? You were so sure you did. “I’m ready, Ryan. I will be right behind you and I-I… I think I really want this.”

“You think?” Ryan asks and you wonder what you’ve said wrong. Why is he making you second guess this whole thing? “Y/n, I wish you just knew. I love you. But I do not want to force you into becoming someone that you’re not. And if I loved you, I would not hold you back from that. So this is me… letting you go.”

And with that, Ryan walked away and you stood there. You didn’t cry, you didn’t run after him. You just stood there, confused and heartbroken? Did he just call off the wedding just moments before you walked down the aisle?

You’d gone back to his apartment that you frequently stayed at. You didn’t even know what you were going to find there. You didn’t know if you were even looking for anything at all. Maybe you just wanted to be left alone.

Penelope and JJ insisted on checking on you, Morgan sent you numerous texts, Hotch called you a few times but Emily and Rossi knew that you needed your space and suggested Spencer go and see you. Even Spencer had wanted to leave you alone, knowing you probably didn’t want to see anyone at all.

“You’re the only person she’ll open up to you.”

“Go get her, kid.”

And with Emily’s words and Rossi’s encouragement, he decides to go and see you. He knows to find you at the apartment you and Ryan shared, since you technically lived there for a while.

When he arrived, the door was wide open and you stood in the middle of the living room, looking around. You’d heard someone come in and you knew exactly who it was even before you turned to face him.

Spencer, standing there, suit clad and hair messy as ever — topping off his outfit with his mismatched socks. Even for you, he’d refused to wear matching socks. How was he always so perfect even when he wasn’t trying? You caught the confused gaze in his eyes when you met them.

“He’s gone.” You told Spencer and he looked around, wondering if there was any evidence of the fact that he was gone like he put it. “Well, let’s not… jump to conclusions. His— His stuff is still here and—”

You shake your head, “No, he had a— a vinyl collection. Any and all music from the 40s to the 80s, it’s all gone.” You traced your fingers over the dust on the shelf. And looked right on the wall. “And he had a photo of him and the family dog up there.” You turned towards the key hook and and frowned — “His grey coat with… red buttons that he never touched but kept up there is gone. I used to tease him about the fact that he never touched that coat.”

You’d learned from your years as a profiler that if everything of the person that was missing was gone, so were they. But as far as you were concerned, any and all evidence of the fact that Ryan was here was gone. It didn’t matter if he still had heaps of clothes in the closet, all of the things that made him him were gone.

But even in the fact that the man you thought was the love of your life just left you — possibly for good — somehow, you managed to utter the words: “I’m free.” And you weren’t sure why you said them. You were devastated from the blow, that Ryan was gone. He was letting you go, like he wanted to.

You start to dig your fingers into the corset of your dress, wanting to yank the thing off altogether as you pant heavily in the silence. And you aren’t sure if it’s a panic attack or the fact that you desperately need to get out of this dress.

Spencer is quick to come up to you, helping unravel the corset of the dress, trying his best to help you right here and right now. He lets you grab his hands and wrap his arms around you as you let out a sob and all he can do is hold you.

He feels terrible for how this has played out. All Spencer has ever wanted was for you to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him. And now Ryan has broken your heart and he wonders if you’ll ever recover from this altogether.

Spencer was never really good with feelings, except to bottle them up and never speak of them again. He knew growing up that telling people what they wanted to hear was much more efficient. And he never knew how to comfort people correctly, at the very least. But with you… he knew how to comfort you. It was the best thing he knew how to do.

Spencer holds you and he tries shushing you and his lips ghosting your skin as he tells you that everything is going to be okay.

Spencer took care of everything after your meltdown. He let the team take care of telling everyone the wedding was off, but he took care of everything regarding you. He took care of your dress, stuffing it away in the closet for you not the see it. He took care of your apartment, cleaning it to the best of his ability, no matter if it was clean or not.

But most importantly, he took care of you. He wiped the makeup off your face, ran a shower for you and told you to take your time whilst in there as he cleaned the apartment.

And once you came out, he’d had the living room set up for one of your movie nights since those seemed to always cheer you up.

You started the movie night tradition on a whim after a day of work. He’d started with the fact that he’d never seen the Harry Potter franchise at work and you just about told him he was probably one of the most uncultured people you’d ever met. So, you had him come over, bought a pizza and had him discover the Wizarding World that was in fact Harry Potter.

And since then, you’d had the movie nights. Always watching something new he’d never seen, or sometimes you’d let him pick — and he’d pick movies in different languages, documentaries or an episode the good ol’ Doctor Who.

Tonight, he knew you were probably not at the mental capacity to choose a movie so he picked one of your favorites and put it on for you. And he also decided to order takeout while you were in the shower. You watched as he proudly showed you what he did and at the end, assured you that if you wanted him to leave, all you had to do was say the word and he’d be gone.

But you shook your head no. In fact, you were so grateful to him for staying. Not a lot of people would. But he did. Spencer would always stay for you.

So, you joined him on the couch, eating food and watching the movie and he later even surprised you with ice cream halfway through the movie and after your stomach settled from the food.

“Did you know that the first color television sets were introduced in 1954, but it wasn't until the 1960s that color television became widespread, with most networks transitioning to color programming by the mid-1960s?” Spencer asked, knowing you loved all fun facts that had to do with television or movies since that had been your area of expertise.

You turn to him and furrow your brows in interest. “Really?” Spencer nods, “Yes, sometime between 1946 and 1950, the research staff of RCA Laboratories invented the world's first electronic, color television system. The first color TV based on a system designed by RCA began commercial broadcasting on December 17, 1953.” He gave you that tight-lipped smile and stiff nod that he always gave you after giving you a fun fact.

You smile at him and find it grateful that he can act so normal with you — even after you just got left at the altar. But that was Spencer, being himself and pretending nothing terrible had just happened. He always did work his best under immense pressure.

You look down and Spencer catches how your smile doesn’t meet your eyes. And he doesn’t want to ask, he doesn’t want to pry but he cares about you too much not to. Spencer looks down at his ice cream and focuses on his carton as he asks — “How are you doing?”

Those four words make you turn back to him and you can tell that he didn’t want to ask the question but he knew he needed to. You look at the screen and you scoff — “Honestly?” Spencer turns his gaze back to you as you think to yourself. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, I’m devastated, sure, I… I loved Ryan. But he had a point. And he was right. He was ready and I wasn’t.” Some part of you knew why he called off the wedding. Why he knew you weren’t ready. Why you weren’t fully in the marriage like he was. And maybe you didn’t know it then, but maybe you knew it now.

Spencer leans back into the couch with a furrowed brow. “Why didn’t he think you were ready?”

Looking at Spencer, you had an idea as of why he let you go. Your profiler brain went back to that moment when Ryan said — Y/n, I love you and I am so ready to marry you. But I know you’re not ready. At least not for me. What did he mean by that? You missed how he took a sly glance at Spencer and now looking back — he did look at him when he said it.

It didn’t take a genius to know why he said it. You’d always felt some sort of connection to Spencer. You were always friends but underneath the surface, it always felt to be something more than that. You ignored it, of course, because well, you worked together and he was your friend and you could never jeopardize your friendship with him. So when you met Ryan, maybe you substituted your feelings for Spencer for Ryan instead. It wasn’t a fair thing you did. And you really and truly did love Ryan. But maybe he was letting you go because he could see you were in love with someone else. But there was no way in hell you were going to tell Spencer that.

You only respond in the way you know how, with a simple shrug. “I don’t know,” Spencer turns to you before turning back to the screen and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. “I guess, he was right.”

This causes Spencer to snap his head right back to you. Almost as if he’s eager to know your answer. “Maybe I just wasn’t ready.” Maybe I was in love with someone else, you want to add. But that would just complicate things.

“Maybe…” Spencer adds, with a slight nod. You turn to him and you see he’s put his focus right back on your movie and you study his facial features.

The slope of his nose, the way it twitches every now and again when he focuses deeply on something. His plump lips, the very lips you spend your time gazing down on when he’s not looking. His hazel eyes, that seem to turn into a golden brown the longer you stare into them. That messy mane he calls his hair, sticking out every which way. You’d loved everything about him inside and out.

And Ryan knew that. Spencer Reid was the reason the wedding was off. But you didn’t want Spencer to know. You didn’t want him to live with the guilt that the reason you couldn’t be happy with Ryan was because of him. But Ryan had done you a favor. Because it wasn’t that you were still in love with Spencer, it was the fact that he might’ve known that you two were meant to be. And Ryan didn’t stand a chance. He knew that. And maybe this was you realizing you knew, too.

“Thank you, Spencer,” You find yourself saying, reaching over to grab his hand. Spencer looks down at your hand on his before looking you in the eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

There’s a truth interlinked with that confession. Spencer has some sense to what it is but he won’t pry you about it. Not today, at least. Deciding to lean further into your touch, he keeps his hand where it’s at and gives you a small smile — “Where else would I be?”

Giving him one more smile, you lean and rest your head in his shoulder like you’ve done a million times before but this time feels different to Spencer. And it definitely feels different to you.

But for now, you’d linger in the silence. Since you seemed to do so much better with that than to actually tell the truth of how you really feel for your best friend.

i come back to this one so often 😈 tell me why i just realized arya’s the one who wrote it 🤭

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

No One is Alone

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis: Spencer realizes you guys might have more in common than he thought when he finds out your parent also has schizophrenia.

Category: Angst, mostly Fluff

Warnings: poorly written one-shot (sorry y’all), crying, reader’s father has schizophrenia, concerned spencer, reader tells a story about her father having an episode, reader’s father is a violent schizophrenic but this does not reflect on those who have schizophrenia! reader has semi-daddy issues, reader has hair but hair color and length is not mentioned! spencer being such a sweetheart! <3

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! back at it again with another lil fanfic one-shot? so i wrote this one to be kind of a personal one since my own parent has schizophrenia and honestly it’s one of the reasons i relate to spencer so much. i’m sorry if this affects anyone, but i wanted to write this one for myself :) i don’t know too much about schizophrenia, i only just know what i was feeling so a lot of this is just reader feeling a lot of feelings and spencer comforting them! i hope you like this one nonetheless! <3

You were constantly checking your cell phone. Every two minutes and ten seconds, you kept checking. And after that, you’d sigh in relief, rub your temples and go right back to work. You’d repeated this for over an hour and a half.

And Spencer had been watching it. Watching you. Of course, not to be creepy or anything. He’d just happened to notice and he was concerned.

You’d joined the BAU a little over less than a year ago and still not one person knew anything about you. Except Spencer. You often kept to yourself but somehow opening up to him was just easier. He never judged, never pried. Some might say that maybe that’s because he had a bit of a crush on you and you wouldn’t exactly deny the fact that you thought he was cute.

Spencer had looked away as he went to focus back on his work and then your phone started to vibrate and you quickly picked it up, nearly knocking over your coffee off your desk — and walked away from your desk.

“Hello?” You’d asked a little frantically as you marched out of the bullpen.

Spencer had looked around before leaving his desk, deciding to follow you out of the bullpen to see what you were up to. He’d followed your voice to an empty office and peeked in as he saw the back of your head.

“So you’re both okay?” You’d asked and waited for the response on the phone. Your tense shoulders sank in relief as your head bowed down and you nod, “That’s good. And Dad’s back on his medication?” Medication? Spencer furrowed his brows as he watched you nod along to the conversation.

“Okay, that’s good. And you sure you’re gonna be fine?” You asked and waited once more. “Okay, well, I’m at work, so I got to let you go.“ A small pause. “Okay, I love you, Mom. Bye.”

You hang up and put your phone back in your pocket and you take a minute. Your head bows down once more and Spencer all of a sudden sees your back bouncing up and down and he can hear you crying. He frowns, he hates seeing you cry.

Spencer decides to back away, going to leave you alone since it seems like you need it right now. But the floorboard creaks underneath his shoes and you turn around with a gasp and you finally see the man with a guilty look on his face.

“Reid…” You turn away quickly as you begin to wipe your eyes and your nose. “What are you—?” Spencer shakes his head and holds his arms up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just… I saw you kept checking your phone and I was worried so I just wanted to… check on you.”

Spencer walks into the room more and he can see just how puffy and red your eyes are and his heart aches at that. “Are you okay?” He asks in a small voice and you take a deep breath and nod your head but your eyes say it all.

“I just… I don’t want to bother you with it.” You say in a hoarse voice and Spencer wonders if your voice has sounded like that all day.

He walks into the room fully and shuts the door behind him as you sit on the floor and Spencer’s heart breaks even more as he sits next to you on the floor.

“You are not bothering me with anything,” Spencer tells, placing an arm around you to comfort you. Granted, he’s a little awkward when he does it but he still does so. “Will you tell me what’s the matter?”

You sniffle and look down as you fiddle with the ends of your sweater. “Uh… it’s my dad.” Spencer sighs, thinking that something may have happened to him. He didn’t know that he wasn’t far off from his hypothesis. You didn’t talk about your family much, just that you had parents that were still together and that you had a fairly normal childhood.

“He’s, uh,” You sniffle once more. “He’s not… well.” From your sentence, Spencer would’ve assumed that maybe your dad was physically ill but the way your tone sounded, something was off.

“What do you mean ‘not well’?” Spencer asked and you looked down at your hands, avoiding any and all eye contact. But nonetheless, you decide to rip off the band-aid. “My dad, uh, he has… schizophrenia.”

“And he had one of his episodes because he forgot to take his medication. And my mom called me and she was scared because he keeps thinking that there’s a family living in our basement. Or that I’ve been kidnapped by them. And my mom was so scared he was gonna hurt someone. And… he…” You pause and try to hold it together. “He… threw a knife at my mom.” You wipe your eyes once more. “They’re at the hospital now and he’s medicated and my mom is okay. But the way she sounded, she was so scared, Spencer.”

“He… he’s usually violent when he has his episodes. And the medication… the medication helps. On the medication, he’s normal. But he’s… forgetful sometimes. He was, uh, diagnosed when I was ten. I can’t tell you how many times I had to lock myself in my room when he got like that.”

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. And it was like his childhood seemingly flashed before his eyes. He’d been through the same thing with his mother. Hell, they probably shared the same story at one point. He had no idea you went through that, too. And suddenly all he could envision was a young you, going through the same thing with your dad and his heart broke again.

“It’s like… sometimes, I can’t escape it. And it’s like I’m a kid again and… sometimes, I fear I may… end up like him.” You start to sob again and this time, Spencer pulls you in close and holds you as he cry into his dress shirt.

You stay like that for a good thirty minutes until you finally pull away. Your eyes have gotten even more puffier and you wipe them with the ends of your sleeve.

“You must think I’m such a wreck.” You attempt to joke. But Spencer shake his head and pulls a strand of hair behind your ear and rests his hand on your shoulder. “I definitely don’t. In fact, I understand.”

You nod at him, knowing his own history with his mother having schizophrenia. He was open about it but you never felt like talking about it, in fears no one would understand. And you never told Spencer because he had his own fair share of “crazy”, you didn’t want to burden him with that.

“I wish you would’ve told me this sooner so that you weren’t dealing with this all by yourself.” Spencer tells, he strokes your arm with his hand as you shake your head, “I didn’t want to bother you with it.” You reveal.

Spencer shakes his head at you, “You could never bother me. I understand this subject all too well. Do you know how many times a day I fear the fact that I may receive the schizophrenic gene? Let me tell you, Y/n, a lot.” You look down and Spencer looks at you, “I just want you to know that you’re not alone. No matter how much you think you may be. You’re never alone.”

With a nod, you grab his hand and hold it and he rubs his thumb against your knuckles, as if it’s serving as a reminder that he’s here, with you. And he understands.

“Can we just stay here for a minute?” You ask, quietly — almost wanting to kick yourself in the head for even suggesting it in case he didn’t or had other things to attend to.

“We can stay here as long as you need.” Spencer assured and you smile at him and thank God that he was the one that followed you and not anyone else.

You handled things by yourself since you were a kid. You’d always been independent and that meant you were so used to being alone and dealing with your dad’s schizophrenia, you didn’t think twice when you decided not to talk to Spencer about it. But he’d made it clear that you could talk to him if needed.

And maybe for once, you didn’t feel alone. And maybe somebody else could understand.