Hello!! I Just Wanted To Say I Loveeeeeeeeeed Anything For Ellie! It Was Soooooo Cute!!! I Was Wondering

i love love LOVE girl!dad spencer reid but i am a firm believer in boy!dad spencer reid because i think he’d be a lil worried at first because of his whole relationship with his dad and not wanting that to reflect on the relationship with his son but in the end, he’s the best dad you’d ever want 🥹🥹

GUYS MGG HAS TIKTOK NOW HIDE THE EDITS

i want to eat him

this is what i imagine for switch!spencer like mans is pathetic but will also eat you alive 🤭

trying hard not to get into trouble (but i’ve got a war in my mind) - s. r.

in which your criminology professor is just too tempting. 3359 words.

switch!spencer x switch!fem reader, questionable age gap & power dynamic, mild exhibitionism, authority kink, brief choking, praise, semi-public sex, oral (f and m receiving), mild degradation, no use of y/n

Your bare thighs stick uncomfortably to the plastic lecture hall chair, and you shift in your seat. Still, you focus diligently on the lecture, or, more specifically, on your professor. Dr. Reid is your favourite kind of challenge, a man you can’t have, the kind who won’t compromise his morals no matter how much he wants you — or, thinks he won’t.

You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long, flickers down to your chest before he catches himself. Toying with him is the highlight of your week, coming up with new ways to torture him, push his boundaries as far as you can before he snaps. The semester is drawing to a close, though, and you haven’t quite snared your pretty professor yet, so you’re having to resort to drastic measures.

It’s like he’s deliberately avoiding you, eyes sliding over you as if you’re not even there. You hope that means your barely-there outfit is working as intended. Dr. Reid refuses to call on you to answer a question, stuttering through his sentences and raking his hand through his unkempt curls. You wonder if they’re soft to the touch, if he likes having them pulled, if— Focus. You raise one hand, digging through your bag with the other. When his attention is finally on you, you spout off some stupid question that’s believable enough not to arouse suspicion; he sees right through it, though, knows the ruse.

Out of politeness, Dr. Reid keeps his focus on you as he speaks. His words come out rapid-fire as if he’s trying to escape you before you do any more damage. It only makes him stumble more, and his struggle is frankly adorable. His reaction as you wrap your lips around a cherry-flavoured sucker is audible, a hitch in his breath and a waver in his voice as you smile innocently around the candy. From then, he can’t take his eyes off you, watching your red-stained tongue lap at sticky sugar, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

Leaning back in your chair, you smirk slightly, wait to draw his attention. When he meets your gaze, you spread your legs, give him a deliberate eyeful of the tiny scrap of lace between them. At that, you physically see him snap, rail against the constraints of his moral compass, finally, gloriously give in. A thrill skitters up your spine as he stops in front of your desk. “See me after class,” he murmurs, jaw clenched.

“Yes, Professor,” you breathe, licking your lips as your thighs clench under the table.

You linger as your class lets out, carefully reapplying your lipgloss while you wait for the room to empty. When you’re finally alone, you approach his desk cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?” you say delicately, suddenly uncertain — you might just be in for the reprimand of your life, and that’s no fun for anyone.

“If you’ll just come with me to my office,” he says tightly, staring resolutely past you as he stands from his desk. Desire pools under your skin, your every nerve alive with tension as Dr. Reid lets you into his office. The sound of the lock clicking shut falls straight between your thighs — that’s when you know you’ve got him. You sit demurely in his armchair, legs crossed as he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible, standing across the room with his arms folded protectively across his chest. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my classroom.”

You smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” you say, putting on a wide-eyed, naive look you’re sure he won’t fall for. Unconsciously, he steps towards you. 

Dr. Reid’s gaze is unreadable. “Really? That little stunt with the sucker, I— I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop, okay?” he says, and, oh. He’s the one pleading with you.

It makes sense, once you think about it. You know he used to be an FBI agent; a dangerous, high-stress job like that, it’s no surprise he’d want to shut off, hand over the control, be taken care of, entrust his pleasure entirely to someone else. “Why would I stop?” you pout. He’s close enough now that you could reach out and touch him. “I’m having so.” You take Dr. Reid’s tie delicately between your fingers. “Much.” You pull him in gently. “Fun.” You tug sharply on his tie, hard enough that he stumbles, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair.

He lets out a shaky gasp, like he’s expecting you to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole. “This is… The, uh…” He clears his throat. “The way you’re acting in my class is not appropriate, and it needs to stop,” he says. You’d almost call it firmly, if not for the near-imperceptible tremor in his voice.

You note that he hasn’t pulled away. “I don’t think you want me to stop, Professor,” you murmur. “I think you want me to stop teasing you, and you want me to give you what you want.” Your smile widens the longer he stays silent; searching for the words to refute you, but the lie won’t come. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Reid,” you purr.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “You aren’t… It’s not…”

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this,” you breathe, catching his jaw so he can’t look away.

His mouth opens, but no words come out, speechless in a way you’ve never seen him. “I… I’m twenty years older than you.”

You grin. “And?”

“I’m your teacher,” he protests, nearly a whine, and oh, isn’t that a delicious sound.

“So?”

“So?” Dr. Reid repeats, incredulous. “I can’t… have sex with you in my office!” he hisses, low as if someone might be listening in.

Your grin only widens, and you pull him down towards you, so close that his breath skates across your lips. He twitches nervously, like you’re close to breaking him, like he’s this close to doing something he’ll regret. “But you want to,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “Tell me, Professor… When was the last time you had something just because you wanted it, hm?” He shudders, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll take real good care of you, sir, I promise.”

With a strangled groan, he gives in. The kiss is sudden, harsh like he’s furious with you for pulling him in like this. Soft lips give way to sharp teeth, greedy tongues, slotting together like you were moulded for him. Your hand slides up into his hair, tangling in his curls as you kiss him harder. A moan slips from your lips when you pull away for air, and the sound seems to drive him well and truly into madness. His lips meet yours with a renewed hunger, resting a hand at your jaw when he breaks away.

Spencer (you’ve just had your tongue down his throat, for God’s sake, you’ve earned the right to call him by his first name) strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing down at you with awe and disbelief written across his face. He sucks in a sharp breath when you close your lips around his thumb, lapping at it just like the sucker from earlier. “You’re trying to kill me,” he breathes.

Releasing his thumb with a slick pop, you laugh. “Is that what you think?” You stand up, press your body into his. Spencer nods warily. “You’d know. If I was trying to kill you, I’d do something like this,” you murmur, sliding your hand up his throat and pressing down softly. His eyes flutter closed in surrender, and a filthy, spit-slick grin spreads wide across your lips. “You like that? Good boy,” you say silkily, letting go of his throat as he nods. “You gonna let me take care of you, Professor?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, and when you let your gaze wander away from his flushed face and down his body, your lips part softly at the sight of him straining against his pants. You dip your head to kiss his neck, wishing you could bruise, make him yours, but you restrain yourself.

Rough carpet grazes your knees as you sink to the floor, hands coming up to work his belt open. You kiss him through his pants, slide his zipper down with your teeth. Spencer whines, and the sound sends a pulse of arousal through you. “So needy, sir,” you croon, slowly pulling him free of his boxers. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen, thick and hard in your palm, drooling precum as you lean in to kiss the tip. The salt taste of him fills your mouth and you moan involuntarily, his hips twitching as you pump his cock slowly.

Hands thread into your hair, but the touch is gentle, reverent, born from need rather than demand. Not that you’d say no to his manhandling you, but you get the sense that’ll take some time. “If you want something, it’s polite to ask,” you tease, holding Spencer’s hips when he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Fuck, please,” he hisses, and the obscenity slides deliciously up your spine. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so gorgeous down there. I want you so badly, I just— please?” Spencer whines, and he sounds so sweetly pathetic that you take pity on him, wrap your lips around his head. The moan that falls from his lips is made of pure lust, and you shiver, arousal dripping between your thighs.

You suck and lick at him, eager and teasing, moaning as the taste of him fills your mouth. Spencer trembles with the effort of holding still, not fucking up into your mouth, and his hands unconsciously tighten in your hair. “You can be a little rougher, if you want,” you say, sliding your palms up his clothed thighs and taking him in your mouth again. You moan around him as his cock bumps the back of your throat, swallowing a gag with practiced ease.

Spencer’s hand curls into a fist in your hair, your stomach clenching in anticipation. The gentle sting when he tugs just a little buzzes under your skin, and you moan enthusiastically around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him even deeper. “Fuck,” he whines, hips jerking forward until his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat throbs between your legs as he twitches on your tongue, and you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s close. 

You double your efforts, pulling off to lick around his head and drip spit along his length. Arousal throbs in your belly, hips grinding down against nothing. Slowly, you take him all the way back in, moan low in your throat when he’s buried to the hilt. You trace your tongue across the vein throbbing on his underside, and Spencer lets out the sweetest, most desperate little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I- I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck, baby, oh, my God,” he gasps, needy and adoring.

His voice trembles as he begs, so soft you’re not sure he knows he’s speaking aloud, and the way he pleads your name, fuck. Time blurs around you, your head goes hazy, pleasure knotting itself deliciously around your insides. Spencer gives a strangled moan, a garbled sound that might be your name, and that’s all the warning you get. You swallow greedily as he spills on your tongue, twitching and moaning and praising you through short, gasping breaths.

He’s still twitching with the aftershocks as you pull off, kneeling to smile blithely up at him. Spencer’s eyes are wide, sparkling with adoration as he struggles for breath. “How was that, Professor?” you tease. “Do I get an A?”

He gives a groaning sort of laugh, pulls you to your feet. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, still gazing into your eyes. It’s disarming, and you get the distinct impression he can read what you’re thinking as plainly as if it were stamped on your forehead. “Come here, come on,” he adds, pulling at your hips and pressing your body into his. You’re almost shocked when he kisses you, hard and greedy and hungry, the most aggressive he’s been this entire time. He sanitises his damn desk three times in a class, for God’s sake — you’d half expected him to hand you a toothbrush when you stood from the floor.

And yet, he’s kissing you breathless, and his hands are tangled in your hair, and his body is pressed so close to yours that you can barely tell where you end and he begins. “Thank you,” he mutters against your lips. “That was incredible. You’re incredible. You’ve gotta let me— Come here, sit,” he says, guiding you to sit on his desk. You balance between scattered papers, an uncapped pen bleeding a black stain into your skirt. 

“Let you do what, Doctor?” you say, quiet and breathy, gazing up at Spencer with wide, adoring eyes.

Spencer smiles, and something warms in your chest at the sight. Long, delicate fingers trace along your thigh, push up your skirt until your panties are on full display. “Pretty,” he remarks, maddeningly casual. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Of course, sir. I don’t dress up for boys anymore.” You swallow, bite your lip. You decide to lay it on a little thicker. “See, I need a man.”

“Is that so?” Spencer murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Your heartbeat quickens, excitement throbbing between your legs as he drags them down. “Look at you, sweet girl. So wet. Is that all from sucking my dick?” he teases, and you shudder.

You don’t know where the sudden obscenity, sudden dominance came from, but it thrills you all the same. “Mhmm,” you murmur. “What are you gonna do about it?” Smirking, Spencer picks up your panties, lets them dangle from his fingertips, red lace starkly incongruous from the calm, studious background of his office.

After a beat, his grin turns wicked and he tucks them into his pocket. “Safekeeping,” he says, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. The movement is so tender that it stops you in your tracks, a shimmering thread of something more than simple desire stringing between you. His eyes glitter, and you know he feels it too. Then, long fingers start to work at the buttons of your blouse. “I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, bending his head to kiss your lace-clad breast as your shirt falls open.

His hand skates up your thigh, oh-so close to where you need it. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, sir. I need you.” Spencer draws his hand away and you whine pathetically, your bare thighs suddenly impossibly cold.

“Be patient, sweet girl,” he says, low and almost dangerous. A thrill skitters up your spine as he sinks to his knees, gazing intently at your dripping wet core. “Beautiful,” he mutters, so quietly you don’t even think he’s talking to you. His hands slide up to your thighs again, spreading them apart gently. “Are you gonna let me taste you, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, cunt fluttering at his words. He kisses the inside of your knee, works his way down your thigh. A brief, bright spark of pain flickers through you as Spencer sucks a bruise into your skin and you moan. A rush of incredibly gratifying heat washes over you when you realise he’s marking you; a hidden little secret lying just beneath your polished exterior. Spencer won’t be able to see anything else when he looks at you. 

He pulls away from his assault on your thighs to look up at you, doe-eyed. “Tell me you want this. Please. I need to hear you say it.” You shudder, closing your thighs around his head and threading a hand into his curls so he can’t drag himself any further away.

“Spencer,” you moan. His eyes blow wide at the sound of his name from your lips. “Please. I need you,” you breathe. “Need you to make me cum, sir, please. Haven’t I been good for you? Don’t I deserve it?” You bite your lip to muffle a scream when Spencer leans in, licks a broad, flat stripe along your soaked core.

He’s methodical, at first, and you know somehow that he’s carefully cataloguing your responses. His tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first and then faster, pressure mounting between your thighs. Spencer moans into you, shifts his hips, and you realise: he’s getting off on this. A jolt of arousal so strong you literally pulse against his mouth rips through you, and you feel his lips curve into a smirk.

Big, soft hands dig hard into your thighs, pulling you flush against him like he could bury himself in you. “You taste so good, baby,” he whines, pressing his tongue flat against your hole as you grind your hips forward. Pleasure curls under your skin, swelling and pressing against your organs, crowding your mind until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but him. Your toes curl in your shoes, stomach clenching as your orgasm builds and builds. Breaking away, Spencer presses tender little kisses to your inner thighs, licks soothingly over his bite mark. 

Just as you’re starting to whine at the loss, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit. Sudden, electric ecstasy shoots through your body when he sucks on your sensitive nerves and it’s all you can do not to scream his name for the entire campus to hear. “Oh, fuck,” you whine instead, rocking your hips in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “M’so close, sir, please— You gotta let me— fuck!” you gasp, cunt clenching as he slides two fingers into you. You’re so wet that it’s easy, a slick slide as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look how well you take me,” he says, staring openly at the point his fingers disappear into your body, your greedy cunt parted around them as wet, obscene noises fill the room. He kisses your clit softly and your legs kick out. “You’re gonna look so pretty taking my dick, hm?”

Your mind goes blank, pleasure thudding sickly in your throat, humming in your ears. “I want it,” you whine. “God, I want you to fucking— mmm— bend me over this desk ‘n— fuck— make me all stupid for you. Oh, God, Spencer, m’so close!” you cry, tugging at his hair and writhing helplessly.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Spencer says, softly urging. “Cum for me.” He pumps his fingers, licks at your clit, gently coaxes you over the edge. Your hands white-knuckle the edge of the desk as pure pleasure washes over you. Your body slumps, weak and powerless against the weight of your orgasm ripping through you. Spencer doesn’t let up, smiling into you as you write above him, murmuring soft praises that fade into a low buzz against your pulse hammering in your ears.

Spencer’s lips and chin glisten with your arousal, still kneeling between your legs as you struggle back to your body. “That was… Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” you giggle, testing your weight as you shuffle off his desk. Spencer leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips is dizzying. Pouting, you glance up at the clock hanging over his door. “I have class.”

As much as he wants to, Spencer won’t tell you to cut class, and you both know it. “Would you like to, uh…” He clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and just like that, he’s back to the sweet, nervous academic you’re used to. “Continue this discussion later? I’ll— I’ll be here all day.”

Your lips stretch wide in a saccharine smile as you slowly button your shirt. “Why, Doctor Reid, are you asking me to meet you after hours? How scandalous,” you giggle, pressing a soft, near-chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll be back at six.”

so close to deactivating my account!!! 🤗🤗🤗

Louder…

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Sunshine Shy!Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer on a couch… need I say more?

Category: Smut

Warnings: pure fluff and smut, brief mentions of S12 prison arc in the beginning, mutual pining, grumpy x sunshine trope, kissing, smut warnings: soft dom!spencer, unprotected p in v, fucking from behind 🤭 (my first time writing this bear with me), dirty talk, spencer wants reader to be vocal during sex, creampie

Author’s Note: lowkey not proud of this ugh

You didn’t know how you managed to get here. You never thought you’d be here— dating the man you’d heard so much about and fawned over since you started the BAU.

When he was arrested and convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, Spencer Reid thought all of his luck had run out. He was screwed over in so many ways and this was another thing he could add to the list of ways life has failed him. And once he got out, he was sure he could never go back to who he was.

And while that was true, he didn’t know he’d have you. The newest BAU intern he was sure was here to take over his position in the unit. You were everything he was at twenty-four— lost in a daze of excitement, eager to work and please, not sure what she was doing half the time but managed to do her job.

At first, he’d wanted nothing to do with you but then, in some weird way— you’d won over his heart. Ever since that night on the jet when he saw you reading one of Leo Tolstoy’s works and interrupted you, asking what you were reading and you spent the rest of the night exchanging interesting facts about Tolstoy’s works.

This occurred for a few weeks until Luke had asked Spencer when he was going to finally ask you out. He shook it off, liking what the two of you had at the moment. But after that, he started noticing you more— how excited you’d get when something fascinated you, much like how he did in the past, how your nose would scrunch up in embarrassment and how bright and wide your eyes would get when he would talk about what he knew. And then, on one faithful day— he finally did it. He asked you out and you said yes.

And now here you were, with your boyfriend— almost six months now— in his apartment, on his couch, cuddling with him.

You two were supposed to have a movie night, watching some documentary about animals and you found yourself scooting impossibly closer to him, nudging your body back into his as he was positioned behind you, blanket covering both of your bodies and his hand rubbing at your side, the heat in his touch making you feel tingly so much that you could help but back into him.

Spencer was sure you were doing it on purpose, backing into him like this— because with how you were two were positioned, your ass rubbing against his groin— he was getting hard. And he couldn’t help it. You were the one doing this to him. And after a small giggle, he started getting the hint that you were in fact, doing it on purpose. After the first few times you did it, it was unmistakable that it was him.

“Angel…” Spencer winced in a warning tone. You chuckle again, “Sorry, love, I just… I can’t help it.”

Instead of a serious tone, he gave you an amused smirk and whispered into your ear — “Well, I’m not gonna deprive my angel of her pleasure, now am I?” You turn your cheek to meet Spencer’s eyes and lean forward to kiss his lips, so gently and passionately.

As you two kiss, his hands travels upwards towards your breasts, grabbing one of them and squeezing as your tongue explores his mouth, causing him to let out a sigh inside of your mouth.

The same hand travels down towards your wet pussy, causing you to let out your own sigh of content as he sticks a finger towards your clit and briefly rubs. “You’re so wet.” He points out and you nod gently, “For you, always.”

He removes his hand, then deciding to move towards your sleeping shorts — the same sleeping shorts Spencer kept eyeing your ass in as soon as you put them on — and pushed the fabric to the side, along with your underwear and pulling down his sweatpants down a bit to release his cock.

You turn your head to look him in the eyes. This was the first time you were doing it in this position. Usually, you two were in missionary and you were riding him so this was a new experience with the both of you. You want to do this right and you know he wants to too and you look at his eyes as you grab his cock, giving it a few strokes and he gets lost in what you’re doing to him that he nearly cums but he wants to blow his load inside of you, he can’t waste it.

So, he stops your movement and holds your hand as you hold his cock and you both guide it towards your slick walls. He waits a moment before slowly going in and you let out a gasp as he sticks a few or more inches in.

Spencer’s eyes meet yours as he nods to you with wide eyes, “Are you okay?” He asks and you nod eagerly, “Yes, yes, I’m okay. Keep going.” You encourage him and he nods at you as he sheathes the rest of himself inside of you and you stay like that for a second, lost into each other’s eyes once more until he starts going.

It’s not long before he finds a rhythm, tilting his head back in pleasure as he fucks into your pussy, your noises clamoring together as your juice leak down onto his cock. You’re both letting out moans, the sounds drowning the long-forgotten documentary out as he grips onto your hip and drives his cock in and out of your walls.

“Oh, fuck—” Spencer groans into the shell of your ear and you try holding onto the cushion for some type of leverage as he keeps going at an animalistic pace. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby. Oh, my God.“

You try holding back your moans but Spencer notices quickly and is having none of it. He loves when you’re vocal during sex— but sometimes you develop a habit of not making noise, mostly because of how past relationships made you feel in the past. And he refuses to be one of those people— especially when he loves hearing your noises. “Come on, angel— I want to hear what I do to you, please…”

You let out a small moan, slowly breaking out your own bit of confidence that he brings out of you. “Louder…” Spencer tells. You moan, a tad louder this time. It’s still not enough. “Louder.” He demands once more as you go an octave higher. “Louder.” He says, once more. You nearly scream as he continues to pound into you, hand trailing down to your clit as he begins to rub it, wanting you to come right along with him.

“Let go for me, angel. I want to feel you cum around my… my—“ He whines, not being able to finish his sentence as he feels you clench onto him and shriek as you cum around his cock and his hips stutter and he fills you with his warmth.

You both pant after the fact, his cock still inside of you but softening and the overstimulation becoming borderline painful. When you finally open your eyes, you turn towards the credits on the TV.

“Hey, we finished the documentary.”

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 love dean

Things people forget about Dean Winchester:

Friendly reminder that Dean is a much more complex character than we give him credit for.

1.  He’s highly intelligent.

Sam is generally regarded as “the smart one,” but the only real difference between them in regards to intelligence is the fact that Sam pursued higher education while Dean stuck to hunting with his father.  Had Dean pursued a college career, there’s little doubt in my mind that he would have been just as smart as Sam.  

(Yes, I’m serious.)

Aside from the fact that he evidently enjoys reading some pretty heavy stuff (he’s referenced The Iliad, the Odyssey, Slaughterhouse 5, Cat’s Cradle, Aesop’s Fables, and even Shakespeare) and is secretly the biggest nerd in the entirety of the universe…

…We can’t forget the fact that he basically fully supported both himself and Sam since he was younger than ten.  In their childhood flashbacks, we see him caring for Sam for days (and sometimes weeks) on end.

Even when he was approximately four years old, he showed a surprising amount of emotional intelligence:  during his and Sam’s trip to heaven, we see him comforting his mother and reassuring her that John loves her.

2.  He has a lot of typically feminine interests.

At first glance, Dean can appear to be the epitome stereotypical, hypermasculine white man archetype, so commonly present in almost all forms of modern media.  Even casual fans should be able to decipher that this is not true, and I’m not even talking about the Taylor Swift music and pink satin panties.

Or the fact that he loves shows like Doctor Sexy M.D.

Or the fact that he’s what can best be described as really, REALLY high-maintenance.

He also loves cooking and cleaning.

And is extremely good with babies and children.

Not to mention the fact that he’s basically more of a mom to Sam than he is his brother.

3.  He’s probably been the victim of sexual violence.

On a more serious note, Jensen and other cast members have stated that at some point in his adolescence, Dean probably had to do some form of prostitution in order to support Sam.

Not to mention the somewhat disturbing fact that he recognized the feeling of being roofied in The Purge. (Of course, he deflected this by claiming it was a precaution, which I personally don’t buy for a second).

 Also, to believe that he didn’t undergo some form of sexual abuse during his forty years in hell is not only overly optimistic, but extremely naive (especially considering the way demons have approached him before).

Finally, Dean’s promiscuity and obsession with sex is a surprisingly common defense mechanism among survivors, stemming from a desire to regain control over their own bodies and sexuality.

4.  He struggles with depression and alcoholism.

Dean has very visible bouts of depression at different points throughout the series, and he deals with all of them in similar ways.

The first appears to be after his stay in hell.  He suffers from insomnia, nightmares, and drinks constantly.

We see him “coping” with Castiel’s death similarly in season seven, after which he has nightmares of the event in question, subsequent insomnia, and again, more drinking.

This becomes a more common event throughout seasons nine and ten, during his struggle with the mark of Cain. 

Even Demon!Dean isn’t immune.

But on a more positive note…

5.  He’s bi as hell (whether the writers know it or not).

I’ve heard people say Dean wasn’t “accused” of being bisexual until Cas was introduced.  Well, I truly pity those people – it must be difficult to be visually and mentally impaired.

For one thing, his siren was male.

It’s implied he had sex with a gay dominatrix. 

He flirts

with guys 

CONSTANTLY.

Not to mention his “summer of love” with Crowley.

But it’s true that Castiel takes the cake.  

For one thing, they’re basically married, and have been since season four.

And they have a ridiculous amount of sexual tension.

So.

Much.

Tension.

And zero personal space.

Like, what the fuck even is this shit.

JUST FUCKING KISS ALREADY BEFORE ONE OF YOU EXPLODES.

There is literally no doubt in my mind that Dean is bi, whether the writers intended him to be or otherwise.  They gave us great characters, and we can interpret them however we please.

…… i have nothing appropriate to say 🫣

The Holiday: Part One

Dad! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You and a random woman online do a home-exchange for the holidays after a hasty breakup with your boyfriend. You’re enjoying the quaint little cottage you’re currently staying at in D.C. when all of a sudden, a strange man is knocking at your door. The man claims he’s the brother of the woman’s place you’re currently staying at and needs a place to stay for the night since he’s had far too much to drink. One thing leads to another and well… things get complicated from there.

Category: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI meet cute, reader just went through a breakup, mentions of alcohol cosumption, a lil ooc!spencer? post-prison spencer reid, spencer has a sister named caroline for the sake of the plot, spencer is a cheeky little shit, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, titty sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, whimpering (spencer reid core), a lil dirty talk, riding, uses of ‘darling’ and ‘angel’, creampie— that should cover it!

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so i was watching “The Holiday” the other night and it had me thinking: i could see this happening with Spencer Reid hehehe so here’s what my brain conjured up! it’s going to be following the plot of the movie but ofc things are gonna be a bit different! also, happy holidays and merry christmas! i hope y’all do like this hehe <3

It was snowing in D.C.. You’d never actually experienced snow before, considering you actually lived in L.A., where the sun was shining 24/7. It was a big leap from the weather in California, that was for sure.

But you didn’t mind. Mid-December, you expected the weather to be the way it was now, snowing and icy. And you pretty much liked it. You felt more at home out here than you did back in L.A.. And the more you thought about it, what did you really have back at home anyway?

You’d just broken up with your long-time boyfriend, who cheated on you with his assistant. And after verbally admitting to it and fighting with him about it, you’d kicked him out. (As you rightfully should). But after the interaction with him, you’d realized he was right about one thing. That one thing being that you always buried yourself in your work. And it’s not like it was easy not to get out of it, you were a writer, for God’s sake. You loved writing more than anything in the world, more than him. And he had an issue with that.

So, in spite of that, you’d decided that you needed a Christmas vacation. And you’d tried one of those home swap websites to find a place you could temporarily stay in for the holidays. And you’d found one belonging to a Caroline Reid.

You’d talked with her a little bit before deciding to agree to the home swap. You’d discovered she’d had a brother who also lived in D.C. and that he’d possibly pop in every now and again to see how things were going. Something about how he worked for the government and that he’d wanted to be sure that you were who you said you were and not some weird 40 year-old guy who stole underwear. You’d found out he was older and he was very protective of his sister and of course, you understood that. You almost wished you had a brother that was like that, but your apartment was in a gated community and it was pretty open. You’d also had an alarm system, knowing who was coming in and out of your community at all times.

So, you’d agree to the home swap for two weeks. Starting from the 16th of December to the 30th of December. The flight from L.A. to D.C. wasn’t long and you’d found the place alright.

A tiny cottage home that smelt of lavender and sea salt. The fireplace, looking as if it’s been used thoroughly, it’d felt oddly like home. Or at least a home you’d wanted growing up. You’d always been in L.A., never opting to go anywhere but home and this change was seemingly nice compared to your studio apartment in L.A., you suddenly felt bad for Caroline, having to leave such a beautiful home to gather at a studio apartment in L.A..

You’d taken a few days to get used to your surroundings, only leaving the cottage to go to the store and buy your snacks and sparkling cider for the night (since you hated wine). You only planned for night-in, watching whatever TV show was playing for the night. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep watching a re-run of The Nanny, cuddling up in a fetal position with the blanket you’d bought from home.

You were woken with a startle as you heard a banging on the door and you stood up quickly, looking around for anything in the room you could use as a weapon and opted for the giant book on the floor that could easily smack someone in the face and knock them unconscious if need be.

You walked down the stairs of the cottage and heard a voice outside followed by the banging. “Caroline? Caroline! Are you home?” The voice asked and you furrowed your brows and stupidly asked — “Who is it?” You dumbass! You’re not supposed to reveal that you’re home to the intruder! Unless that’s what the intruder wanted, you really need to stop listening to true crime podcasts.

“It’s me! Open the door!” The voice responded and you were beyond confused. “Hurry up! It's freezing.”

You hadn’t recognized the stranger’s voice and yet you continued to shoot yourself in the foot as you had asked again — “Who are you?”

“Caroline, open the door or I swear I'm gonna end up urinating all over your front porch—" You gasp, tossing the book on the couch and without even thinking, you open the door and in front of you is stood a tall man.

His chocolate brown hair pushed out from his neck, his stubble perfectly framed his face and his sharp jawline that looked like it could cut through glass. His perfectly plump, pink lips apart as he looks right at you, his hazel eyes gazing right at you in surprise. And all you can do is stare right back. He was dressed in a long black coat, black slacks and black loafers and a purple scarf around his neck to top it all off. He was kinda dressed as a professor now that you really looked at him, kinda looked like one too, the way he presented himself five seconds standing in the doorway.

And here you were, in patterned pajama bottoms, a white top and a grey cardigan, completely underdressed.

“Oh,” The man spoke. “You're not Caroline.” He turns towards you and crooks a small smile. “Or if you are, I'm much drunker than I realized. I'm so sorry. I-I wasn't expecting you.” His gaze never leaves your eyes as he backs away from the door for a moment.

“Well, I wasn't expecting you, either…” You trail off, not knowing what to call him. She’d probably settle for that attractive guy who used “urinating” instead of “taking a leak” on the front porch.

His eyes widen as he holds his hand out, “Oh, sorry! Uh, I’m… I’m Spencer Reid,” You take his hands going to shake his back. You can’t help but glance down at his hand, the veins on the back of it, making you gulp for a second. “Caroline’s brother.” He stated.

“Oh! Right!” You exclaim, totally forgetting that Caroline had informed you of her brother probably popping in every once in a while. She just didn’t happen to mention that he was hot! “I’m Y/n L/n, your sister informed me you’d be popping in sometimes.”

The man you now know as Spencer snaps his fingers and nods, “Yeah, forgive me, I’ve had a… bit too much to drink so it slipped my mind that she wouldn’t be here. My apologies. But do you mind if I… use the restroom?”

You flinch and back up so he can walk in the house, “Oh, of course! Come on in.” You probably shouldn’t have let him in. He could be a killer for all you know. It was something about him that just seemed… welcoming in a way.

He’d quickly gone into the bathroom downstairs and you’d spent a good minute fixing your hair to your liking so you could present yourself in a way. It wasn’t everyday a cute guy walked into your home (for the week at least), you wanted to at least look a little good.

“So, from what my sister has told me so far, she’s staying in L.A.?” He asks after he exits the bathroom and into the living room, where you find yourself doing anything but looking at him. “Yes, she’s staying at my studio apartment there. She, uh, listed this cottage on a home exchange website and I found it. We switched houses for two weeks for the holiday. So, I’m here and she’s… there.”

Spencer hums, “People actually do that?” You shrug in response, “Apparently.” Spencer looks at you and thinks to himself, “I just… I’m sorry, I told my sister that it could possibly be dangerous for her to do that and yet she’s just too stubborn. She’s like our mother in that way, it seems.” You nod at him, not knowing what to say to that.

There’s a brief silence before Spencer motions towards the couch. “I’m sorry, would you mind if I sat down? I, uh, was out tonight with my colleagues and I… I guess I’m feeling just a bit dizzy.” He tells.

“Oh, of course, go right ahead.” You tell and he plops on the couch and sits up, looking at you. “Also, again, I'm sorry about the intrusion. Although right now, I may not appear it, I am, in fact, Caroline’s respectable older brother. But on the rare — or I guess, lately not so rare — occasion that I frequent the O’Keefe’s and get inordinately drunk, my little sister puts up with me so I don't get behind the wheel.” He explains and you nod in understanding. “It’s a pathetic explanation, but, unfortunately, it's become a bit of a routine, really. I swear, I’m not usually like this but… yeah. Like I said, it slipped my mind that you’d be here instead of you, so… I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms. “Oh, no, you’re all good. I was just, uh, having my own little… girl’s night. I'm, um, not quite myself right now. I-I came here on a stupid whim, really.” Spencer nods at you as the silence fills the air once more.

“Oh, sorry, I’m a terrible host. Would you like something to drink? Glass of water? Tea? Sparkling cider, maybe?” You ask. “Uh, sure.” He nods and you nod back at him, going to the pantry to grab two glasses and fill the cups up with sparkling cider.

You walk back into the living room and hand him his cup, your pointer finger connecting to his for a split moment. “So, Y/n, is it?” He asks and you nod, “Yes, that’s me.”

He mumbled your name under his breath, seemingly like the way he said it. And you did, too. “So, Y/n, I assume you’re not married?” He asks and you furrow your brows — “Why? Do I look not married?” You chuckle awkwardly, wondering where this was going.

“No, it’s just…” He sits up more as he takes a sip of the sparkling cider. “I don’t know if my sister told you but I’m a profiler for the FBI and that means that I study human behavior and one thing I noticed about yours is that you seem to carry yourself pretty well so far. Your body language tensed and you got defensive when I assumed you weren’t married so I assume that’s a factor into your relationships and you don’t trust people often. But you let me in when I could’ve been a total stranger that’s lying to you, so I may be off my A-game here. It may also be the fact that your pupils dilated when you looked at me and you’re curling in on yourself, meaning you may find me attractive.” Your cheeks heat up and your eyes widen at that. Damn, he was good. “And that’s totally okay, I don’t know what you may see in me, but I’m flattered. And you’re also not wearing a wedding ring, but… by the fact that you said you’re not quite yourself at the moment and that you cowered and looked away for a second when you said that, I’m also assuming that you just got out of a relationship. Am I correct?”

You simply blink, completely dumbfounded at his whole “profiler” thing. You can’t help but stare and clear your throat and he can tell you’re uncomfortable with it. He shakes his head and shuts his eyes as if he’s in pain. But mostly he’s cringing because of what he said. “I’m sorry, I… I do this a lot. I just… ramble and ramble and ramble. I’m trying to be better at it, honest.”

You shake your head and shrug, “No, it’s okay.” You look at him. “You’re actually very spot on. Uh, I just broke up with someone. Before I left.” He nods at this. “He… cheated and well, my guard is back up. I came here to maybe… I don’t know, get a change of scenery for once? But now I’m realizing that I actually have no idea what I’m doing and well, I guess I just… feel alone in a way.” You realize you’ve just rambled about yourself and shake your head as he gawks at you and you chuckle it off, “Bet you're glad you knocked on this door.”

Spencer looks up at you, not laughing along with you but instead speaking softly, “I am, actually.” The way he said it made it seem like he actually meant it. You stare at him before looking down at your hands, playing with the loose thread on the ends of your cardigan.

“So,” Spencer spoke again. “Would it be alright if I stay? I'll be gone before you even wake up. I promise you will never lay eyes on me again. It might suck for you now that I think about it, considering you find me attractive.” He told and the heat rushes to your cheeks again.

“Okay, one: I do not find you attractive—” He interrupts you. “Funny how I brought it up before you didn’t deny this.”

“And two,” You continue. “It’s okay if you stay. I actually prefer it now that I know you’re not someone who wants to murder me.” Spencer nods at you, “Technically, you’re more likely to be murdered by someone you know so considering you’re not home at the moment, you’re safe.” He tightens his lips as he looks up at you.

You narrow your eyes at the man and study him, “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a strange man?” Spencer thinks about it for a moment, “A lot, actually, yeah.” You purse your lips in a smile and catch yourself gazing at his hands again as he places the glass cup back on the table.

“Uh, let me get you a blanket.” You offer and suddenly you feel like an idiot because you don’t even know where the extra blankets are. And judging by your face, Reid can tell you don’t know where they are either. “Oh, uh, in the cupboard on the left.” He tells and you nod at him, going towards the cupboard you see surely enough on the left and of course, there are blankets inside. He’s probably been there often to know where the blankets are. Of course, he does, he’s Caroline’s hot older brother.

You walk back in the living room and see that he’s standing and he’s holding his hand out to grab the blanket from you. Somehow, you must’ve lost your footing because you ended up tripping over the carpet and into Spencer’s arms. “Here you go— whoa!”

You were lucky that he acted quick, otherwise you would’ve landed on your face but instead you landed on the plush of his chest. “Whoa! You okay?” He asks softly and you look up at him, considering he’s way taller than you. He gazed into your eyes and you his and you could see up closer that his eyes had a little green in them.

The way he held you in his arms for a moment, like you would break if he gripped your arms harder. You weren’t sure if you ever wanted to escape from his grasp. And without even thinking, he leaned closer and pecked your lips. The kiss was soft, simple, like he almost didn’t mean to do it.

Spencer closed his eyes as he winced, realizing that he shouldn’t have done that — but God, you wanted him to do that again. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Uh, good night.”

He begins to slug back to the couch but you grab him by his bicep. He may look a little lanky but his bicep is strong and firm. What you would do to get him to hold you in his arms and just— whoa. Don’t get there, brain.

You suddenly find yourself speaking and chuckling awkwardly as you loosen your grip on his arm a bit. “Do you think you could...” You close your eyes and correct yourself. “Would you mind, um, trying that again?”

Without another word, Spencer tries again and this time, he lingers and the kiss spurs off fireworks in your head. He pulls away and all you want to do is dig your fingers in his messy mane and never let your lips leaves his until it becomes a chore to breathe.

But you frown for a moment and find yourself pondering. What the hell are you doing? Spencer seems to notice this and tilts his head to meet your eyes.

“Bad?” He asks. “Weird.” You correct and chuckle to yourself once more, “Kissing a total stranger.”

“Really?” Spencer asks. “I do it all the time.” You look at him. Of course he’s experienced in this. I mean, look at him!

“Here, let me try.” You take a deep breath and kiss his lips and halfway through the kiss, you realize your eyes are open the entire time. It’s probably because of the fact that you didn’t want to miss a second of it. And honestly, who could blame you?

Spencer backs away after the kiss and you scrunch your eyebrows together as you realize that was kind of an awkward kiss. “Maybe if I closed my eyes.” You say and Spencer nods, “That’d probably be best.”

You do so, close your eyes that is and Spencer looks over your features and decides to try something himself. Carefully, he places his oddly cold hands around your cheeks and leans in, ghosting his lips over yours as he breathes into your face and you feel his lips kiss your cheek and the area near your nose and suddenly, you feel warmth way below as he finally kisses you on the lips.

His cold hands contrasted with your warm cheeks and you feel shaken with pleasure and you look deep into his eyes once you open yours and he already watching you.

“You know, given that I'm in a bit of a personal crisis and I find myself in a total stranger's home and also considering that you showed up and you're, like, insanely good-looking and you probably remember me anyway, I'm thinking… we should have sex.” You offer and his eyes widen at your forwardness.

You’re not usually like this. You’re never this forward and you’d never suggest this to a total stranger but there was something he inhabited that you just found sexy. And you wouldn’t care of the consequences and you didn’t really know him so you didn’t need to date him to secure your needs, you just needed a release from the stress you’d been under the past few days. Dealing with publishers for your newest book, scheduling interviews among interviews, the whole thing that happened with your now ex-boyfriend. This could be good and it’s not like you’re entirely desperate. All you really need is something.

“If-If you want,” You clarify, hoping to God you didn’t just freak this man out into not staying at his sister’s place for the night. “Just say the word, I can go lock myself back up in my room for the night and we can pretend this never happened.”

Spencer chuckles to himself and he looks at you as he quirks an eyebrow upwards, “Is that a trick question?” He asks. But you look at him, dead in the face and he can already tell you’re being serious about this.

“No, I'm being honest. And not that this matters, but I've never said anything like that in my entire life before.” You tell. “It's just that this whole knowing that I'll never see you again thing is kind of exciting. I mean, this is what a vacation's supposed to be, right? You're supposed to vacate your life, do the unexpected, and you are definitely unexpected.”

Spencer smiles a bit as he shakes his head, “You’re making me feel cheap here.” He said and you laugh along with him once you realize he found it funny. You pull a strand of hair behind your ear as you add on, “You're funny, which is also like a bonus. In my book.”

Spencer leans forward, wanting to kiss you once more but you push on his chest a bit as you add, “Are you sure you’re going to be stable enough for this? I know you said you’d had a couple of drinks tonight.” Spencer smiles a bit, admiring your chivalry and not wanting to take advantage of him when all he wants to do is take advantage of you. He also finds it sweet, not wanting to do it when he’s vulnerable but he’d only had two drinks tonight and well, he can be a lightweight sometimes.

“Trust me, angel, I sobered up as soon as I saw you.” He spoke and your heart skipped a beat when you heard him say ‘angel’. Your cheeks are probably heating up again.

You smile and he leans in, kissing you once more. But you push him away once more and start talking once more. “Oh, also, I should warn you.” He looks at you in wonderment. “I’m… I'm not very good at this.”

He furrows his brows as he asks, “This being?” You look at him and blurt out — “Sex.”

Spencer scoffs as he looks at you up and down. “Okay, now that cannot be true. Who told you that?” He asks.

“The guy that I was dating, uh, mentioned it once or twice and a girl does not forget a comment like that.” Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, possibly just to shut you up but it really doesn’t work because you back away and continue, “I mean, how bad could I be? I mean, sex is pretty basic, right?” You look his way and scrunch your nose together, “Have I talked you out of this yet?”

He shakes his head endearingly and gazes at you. He must think you’re a mess, that he couldn’t possibly sleep with you because you were just “too much”. You’d been told that your whole life. But internally, he finds it oddly assuring that he’s not the only rambler here. He actually kind of like it. It’s not something he’s used to from someone else, mostly because he’s always the rambler.

“Strangely, not at all,” Spencer answers and then looks down for a moment. “Let me ask you this,” He licks his lips. “How do you feel about foreplay?”

Your heart stops and suddenly you’re looking anywhere but him now and you shake your head, “Uh…” You don’t really know how to respond to that.

His eyes widen, “Have you… not—?” You shrug, “I have, it’s just…” You pause. “It wasn’t great. The guy I was with… he didn’t like doing it and well, I’ve spared myself from dealing with that because most guys don’t know what the hell they’re doing down there half the time so… I guess I just… haven’t done it.”

Spencer’s lips part and he’s shocked at the discovery. He’s in complete shock of the fact that you’ve never really done it with a guy that knew what he was doing. It was completely baffling to him. Who wouldn’t want to? You were gorgeous and from what he gathered in the short time, you were also amazing. And by the way you made yourself feel small, somebody else did that to you. And his heart broke for you.

“That guy that you were with?” Spencer began. “I think he’s a real loser because a real man would like that.” You find your cheeks heating up again. “Y/n, you are quickly becoming one of the most interesting girls I've ever met.”

You smirk as you finalize your decision and stand up, sultry walking towards the stairs and looking back at him and find that his gaze has gone towards your ass. “Look at you,” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eye as he narrows his orbs at you. “You're already better than you think.”

With that, he stands, following you to your room and as soon as you close the door, he’s on you. His lips capture yours and you moan as his hand makes its’ way down your stomach and then in between your thighs.

You whimper in his mouth as he sticks his hand in your pajama bottoms and through the waistband of your underwear as he rubs the point where you need him the most. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my hands earlier.” He says into your neck and your eyes roll to back of your head.

“Spencer…” You moan into the air and his lips are all over your neck as he then picks you up and lays you down gently on the bed, like you were fragile and needed to be handled with care.

His lips travel from your neck to your chest as he opens up your cardigan and reveals your breasts covered by your top. His eyes nearly pop out of his head when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra. He pulls your top down and exposes your boobs — to which he fondles one of them and begins to suck on your nipple. His hand travels farther as he sticks a finger inside your hole as you gasp out — “Oh, my God!”

The stimulation, plus the fact that he’s sucking on your boob right now makes you want to cum. “I want you to cum like this for me, please.” You’d do anything for him so you will your body to give in and to release.

You feel your core throb as you came hard around his fingers and whine as he pulls his fingers out. He sucks on your juice off his slender fingers and you stare at him, like he’s an angel of sorts. He is an angel. And how you wish he could be your angel.

“You okay, sweet girl?” He asks softly and all you can do is nod at him. “We can stop here if you want to.” You shake your head, pulling him by his crooked tie and say — “Oh, darling, we are just getting started.”

With a smile, he kisses you once more and you both begin to take off each other’s clothes. You help him take off his dress shirt and slacks as he helps you out of your cardigan, top and pajama bottoms. Suddenly, you’re both naked in the bed and he turns his gaze down to your dripping pussy.

He looks at you with lust-filled eyes and asks, “May I?” You just nod but that’s not enough for him. “I need words.” You nod again but this time you add a meek — “Yes.”

He smiles as he gazes down. “I’m gonna take good care of you, sweet girl.” You watch as he slowly goes down and his hot breath fans over your pussy lips before he dives in for a kitten lick. You shudder and he quickly notices this with a sly chuckle, “You’re shaking. And I’ve hardly touched you.”

You moan, not wanting him to draw this out any longer than you want him to and he smiles, he could tell you want this. He could tell you need this. And goddamn it, he’s gonna prove to you that you’ve gone too far without this and you’re not going to keep going long without it so long as he could help it.

His mouth wraps around your clit, drawing figure-8s with your tongue and suck as he does so. You find yourself gripping the sheets hard as he continues to go down on you. “Fuck,” You deliciously mutters into your pussy. “You’re so sweet,” He drawls. “Your ex is a fucking loser if he thinks that this is a waste of time because darling, you are exquisite.”

You feel every moan into your pussy he’s making as you look down at the sight and your eyes connect to his and all of a sudden, you’re cumming once more. You shake in his hold as you close your eyes in pleasure as he stays in your sweet nectar until you’re done.

He looks up at you, as if he’s mesmerized by the sight itself of you releasing. You look back down at him and see his eyes, still blown with lust and reach down to run your fingers through his hair. By the doozy look in your eyes, he can tell you really enjoyed that. “Did I do okay?” He asks with a small smile and you chuckle as you look towards the ceiling. “That was…” You take a sharp breath. “Wow.”

Spencer laughs a bit as he climbs up your body and leans over you. “There’s plenty more where that came from.” And that’s when you turn your body around so that you’re over him now. “Oh, trust me. There is.”

You maintain eye contact with Spencer pump a few strokes on his cock before settling his head towards your entrance. “And you’re still okay with this?” You ask, a whiny tone sheltering your voice and Spencer swears he might cum on the spot just with you doing that. “Oh, I’m very okay with it.”

“Yeah?” You look down but only for a moment to guide himself into you and you rest your hands on his shoulders as you sink down into him. He throws his head back in pleasure as you finally feel all of him and you feel so full.

His cock throbs in your wet pussy and he gasps out — “Oh, you feel so fucking… perfect, angel.” You bite your lip to hold back your moans as you begin to move yourself up and down on him, rocking your hips to you liking and his hands rest on your thighs, gripping them tightly, holding you up against him.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“So f-full.”

“That ex-boyfriend wouldn’t know what to do with a perfect pussy like yours.”

His forwardness made your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to thrust hard into you with his cock.

“Where do you want it, angel?” He grunts and you know that it’d be too intimate, to have him mark you, claim your body, paint your insides with his cum but you’d been so far gone, you basically begged him to cum — “In-Inside.”

“Oh, you want it inside?” Spencer asks and you nod, biting your lip hard. “You want me to breed you? To claim you? Because I will.” His words send you over the edge as you work yourself on his cock even harder. “Cum for me, darling. Please.” A whine escapes his lips and you finally feel a coil snap inside of you as you cum for the third time tonight on his cock.

You feel a warmth inside as he paints your insides and you collapse again his body as you both pant. He feels your hot breath on his neck as he holds you close to him, his hand sprawled out on your back as he rubs your flesh, as if he’s somehow calming you down from your high.

Your eyes are closed but you feel as Spencer carefully pulls out of you (and he watches as his cum drips from your pussy and he’s mesmerized by the sight of it) and sets you down next to him, holding you to his chest and keeping you there. You feel his heart rate beginning to slow as you rest your head on his chest.

“Wow,” You start. “That was…” You take a deep breath. “Exciting.”

Spencer looks down at you and he furrows his brows, “I gave you three orgasms and that was just… exciting?” You can hear the smirk in his voice and you look up at him, “Okay, it was…” You ponder on a word. “Spectacular… hot… sexy.”

“Spec-hot-exy,” You form a word. “Is that good enough for you?” He shakes his head at you as he chuckles. “Are you okay?” He asks and you nod, “Yeah, I’m perfect.”

“Okay,” He says, sitting up. “Don’t get too comfortable because you do need to pee and we do need to clean you up. I just had sex in my sister’s bed and I know she’s gonna kill me for it.” He helps you up, steadying you as he walks you towards the bathroom and cleans you up.

And as he does so, you stare. And you just keep staring because even though this was a one-night thing, you can’t help but wonder what it may be like to actually be with him. Would he still be this gentle? Would he still be this caring? Because this would be enough to make a girl fall in love. And if Cupid heard your thoughts, he’d shoot another arrow just to make you even more head over heels than you are now. But you shouldn’t be thinking what you’re thinking, not at all. You just broke up with someone for Christ’s sake. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun while you were still in D.C..

After the holidays, you could go about your life, forgetting who this man was and just remembering him as the guy that just appeared at your doorstep and wowed you into sleeping with him. You were never gonna see him again, why not have a little fun while you were here?

You weren’t sure if this would end with anyone getting hurt, but all you knew is that you’d take advantage of the time you’d have, here and now.