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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 7 days

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Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 7 days

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girlhood is staying up late to read the top posts in an x reader tag

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader

w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)

summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.

warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope

a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.

hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.

you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.

it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office. inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.

after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.

“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.

your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?

“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”

best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.

“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.

“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.

“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.

you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.

j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.

if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.

you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.

“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.

“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.

his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.

“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.

“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer.

you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”

you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.

paperwork it is.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.

you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.

“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.

you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.

you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.

“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.

“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.

your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.

“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.

“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”

“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.

“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.

you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.

“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.

“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”

you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”

just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.

“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.

“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.

“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”

before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.

as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,

“she brought penelope?”

had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.

“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like an arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.

“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.

you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.

“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.

“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone more confident than before, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”

time stops.

“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.

“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”

your heart breaks even more, if that’s even possible, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.

he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.

you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.

you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?

“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.

“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”

your heart cracks even more at his question, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.

“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.

“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.

“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.

his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.

“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.

as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.

“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.

“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.

it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.

spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.

“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.

the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.

“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.

“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.

“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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❗️aaron in sweatpants ❗️

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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Bless Paul Mescal for these. 💜💜

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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Ahsoka: There’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Anakin, from the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 8 days

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PEDRO PASCAL as Silva in STRANGE WAY OF LIFE 2023 — dir. Pedro Almodóvar

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 1 month

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Texts From Superheroes

Facebook | Threads | Patreon | Instagram

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 1 month

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

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public displays of affection - aaron hotchner x reader

the aaron take on the derek/penelope workplace seminar (episode of reference: 9x12)

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, suggestiveness, small allusions to sex, fluff <3, bau family banter, aaron being mortified😭, references to the episode wc; 1.4k

"penny," you shut one of your files, placing it in your desktop organizer. "you're creating a draft."

"this is bad. oh so very very bad." she stammered, continuing to pace back and forth, "i'm just mentally preparing myself to be humiliated in front of the entire unit. for the second time, may i add. god, who blabbed this time?

"what did you even do?" spencer chimed in, his head lifting from his current read.

"i don't know." she exclaimed, an exasperated breath leaving her. "nothing out of the ordinary, so that means anything is possible. you," she pointed at morgan, who casually was making his way over to the rest of you. "we're in big trouble."

"this could be totally unrelated." jj reassured her. you agreed, giving penelope a nod and a hopeful smile. "there was no footnote on what this meeting consisted of."

"well, there was no footnote last time. and to this day, i still get asked what flarpy blunderguff means." she huffed, crossing her arms and turning towards derek. "i love you my hunk of a man, but this. this is a nightmare."

as two began rolling around, the bullpen filled in anticipation for the seminar, a light hum in the room as conversations were exchanged back and forth in waiting.

in addition, a presence soon stilled beside you. one always familiar, but surprising under the current circumstances.

"what are you doing here?" you looked up to find aaron's gentle eyes. he took a seat on the edge of your desk, just behind your chair.

meetings like these - usually below aaron's pay grade. he hadn't needed to attend the last, infamous meeting for instance, HR meetings were normally things he had prior knowledge of, or simply not worth his valuable time as unit chief.

"i got the email as well." aaron's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers comfortably kneading into your always-tense muscles. every so often, his hand would brush to your shoulder, and then back again.

"oh no," penelope slapped onto derek's arm, the smack covered up by slim buzz within the vicinity. "what did we do?"

"looks like we're about to find out." dave stated, his eyes following the woman who had just entered the bullpen, moving to the front.

the notorious HR lady of the bureau, nancy, sauntered over to the large presentation screen set before the clusters of desks. not wasting a second to get down to business, she turned toward the crowd of eager agents.

"thank you all for your attendance and time, this shouldn't take too long." she started, poised and head held high.

penelope took a deep breath.

"this afternoon's presentation," nancy clicked a button on her remote, displaying the title page. "public displays of affection."

oh no.

aaron's hand, which had continued to smooth out the stiffness in your neck, halted immediately.

"as you all- most are well and should be aware, keeping conduct professional in the workplace is a must to prevent disruptions within the environment. displays of affection - examples upcoming - can cause extreme feelings of uncomfortableness amongst your colleagues, and can be distracting nonetheless. all of which, creates a...."

just as last time, she clicked her remote. and adjacent to penelope and derek's presentation, in big letters across the top:

"hostile work environment."

derek immediately snorted under his breath, inviting others to openly laugh as well. despite the urge to shoot daggers at him, you were utterly incapable of pulling your attention away from the front.

it wasn't a top secret ordeal - everyone could infer the pair this presentation was centered around, and be correct.

"and so," nancy exhaled a breath, her eyes darting in your and aaron's shared direction for a smidge second, causing the heat to grow in your face and body. "i urge everyone to refrain from the following,"

similar to yours, aaron's face burned, comparable in color to his tie. he let out a nearly inaudible, nervous cough from above you.

"sitting on one's lap, while working on caseloads - not appropriate."

more laughter rippled through the division.

"oh god." you mumbled under your breath, uncomfortably crossing a leg over the other as your palm covered the bottom half of your face.

contrary to the present belief, aaron was a stickler on pda.

for the first few months of your relationship, he hadn't dared to touch your arm, back, anything in order to maintain such affection within the field; it was reserved for closed doors at home only. he loved you, but he wanted to uphold his reputable professional nature.

but as time moved forward and your relationship progressed, he hadn't gotten sloppy, per se, but more relaxed or lenient was a better way to put it.

some displays were accidental by habit. if he wanted to give you a quick peck, depending on the situation and setting, he would. seated beside each other, he would lovingly squeeze your thigh under the table, if you needed the encouragement or if you made him proud in some regard. if he were feeling frisky one day - sure he would do something, just to rile you up for later, to each of your benefit. so on and so forth.

and if he was initiating affection, you took that as the all-clear to do the same. in variation, of course.

so more often than not, it was in private. just not... always. and the lock on aaron's office door often came in handy for that.

"prolonged kisses in the bullpen, elevator, not appropriate."

once. you were caught once in a (very) heated kiss in the elevator.

as you and aaron cowered in embarrassment, both dave and morgan looked far too amused for their own good. the rest of the team - raised, entertained eyebrows, tossing glances to one another while trying to constrain their laughter.

nancy swallowed, as if she needed strength to deliver the next point, "grabbing one's behind when going up the stairs, not appropriate."

another mortified cough exited aaron.

she went on, giving more examples of affection aaron and you were completely guilty of. and if just one singular time wasn't enough, she went-forth on the explanation that such displays can cause a barrier within the workplace.

when you thought it would never cease, nancy finally delivered her ending statement, "save it for home people, thank you."

and with that, as well as the screen darkening, everyone disbanded, low murmurs and chuckles filling the room as each went about their usual routine.

you looked up at aaron in absolute horror, whose face was currently in his hand. but even that didn't hide the blush brewing within his face, his ears flushed wildly as well.

you reached up, grabbing his wrist to pry his hand away.

"nuh uh uh," derek grinned as he wiggled his index finger at the two of you, imitating nancy to a tee. "not appropriate."

"you hush." you got to your feet, allowing you to remove his hand more easily. you cautiously prolonged your hold, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before letting it drop. "aaron?"

his brown eyes found yours, full of embarrassment. "that was..."

"humiliating?"

he nodded, his head accelerating in speed with each nod, "yeah. that's the term i would use."

"oh you poor dears." penelope breathed out, the one compassionate member of the team.

"damn." emily chuckled.

derek cackled again, clearly not ready to let this go. honestly, he probably never would. "thought we didn't notice when you pulled the blinds in the office, did ya?"

aaron gave him a pointed glare, putting a very quick end to the conversation. just as the rest, the team carried on with their remaining work for the day - you and aaron remaining frozen in place.

but surprisingly enough, a laugh did escape him, shaking through his chest. "guess i have to tone it down a little, huh?"

"oh thank god," you blurted out and exhaled in relief, a small smile forming on your lips. "i thought this would cause an avoidance arrangement or something." you teased - partially.

"of course not. some reservation, maybe, but not avoidance." aaron laughed quietly again, a sigh escaping him.

"that was bad, wasn't it?" a slightly pinched expression took form on your face, your cheeks tinting once more.

"it wasn't... good." aaron admitted with some hesitation, but his brown eyes still glowed despite the lines of troublesome. his hand found yours - after scanning that no one was paying attention to the two of you - giving it a squeeze. "but hey, out of problems to have, i'd take showing my love for you any day."

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

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The First Date and a Reward

His First Time Series - Chapter 4

Summary: You accidentally walk in on something and it prompts Spencer to ask you on a date. A deal is made - he plans a good first date and he gets a reward.

Tags: 18+, MDNI!!! Mentions of porn, watching porn, first date fluff, use of pet names, fem reader, lingerie, oral (female receiving), cumming in pants (male)

Leave comments or suggestions - anon messages welcome as is constructive criticism! Thank you all for taking time to read!!! :)

(Have an idea for a “first time” - let me know!)

Spencer had been watching porn. And not any porn, but kinky amateur porn.

You hadn’t meant to disturb him, to barge in on him in a private moment. He’d given you a key to his apartment after an incident where you’d been stuck in his hallway for over an hour, waiting for him to arrive. The metro had been packed and he had missed his usual train, not even able to squeeze on if he wasn’t touch averse to strangers. So, he’d given you a key, saying he didn’t want that to happen again and that he trusted you alone in his safe haven. He’d been awkward doing it, never having given a key to somewhere he lived to anyone. He didn’t tell you that he wondered if there would be a day he didn’t come home to an empty apartment, a day when he came home to you. Instead, he moved that thought back to a new box in the back of his mind, another “do not touch” label where he was shoving his thoughts about you.

You two had scheduled plans after work but your meeting let out early. He had texted you to come over as soon as you were done, had said he wanted to ask you something. It had worried you slightly, afraid he wanted to end the lessons. He still hadn’t gotten naked in front of you, and you had yet to use only your mouth to pleasure him. So when he didn’t answer your knock, or your second knock, you just…unlocked the door.

Only to find him on the couch with ancient headphones connected to his ancient laptop, watching porn as if it was a film in a language he didn’t speak. He wasn’t even touching himself, just watching intently, his brow furrowed and elbows on his knees as he bent towards the small screen in concentration. Briefly, you considered turning around, pretending you hadn’t come in and just banging on the door to get his attention. But the door behind you swung shut, loud enough that Spencer jolted from his bent position, eyes widening as he saw you standing there, still holding the key he’d given you.

At first, neither of you said anything. Spencer might not have been touching himself, but you could see the tent in his pants, could see the way his eyes had been dilated before they had morphed into a look of horror. Now the flush on his face was from embarrassment, not from what he’d been watching while he waited for you.

“My meeting ended early. I- I knocked twice and thought maybe you’d just… I’m so sorry, Spencer”.

You were mortified to intrude on this, which didn’t make sense. Hell, you’d like to make a kinky amateur film with him but walking in on him watching was different. It felt too private for you to intrude on without his invitation. You watched as Spencer continued to stare at you, watched as he swallowed dryly, his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

“I can explain” he finally said.

“You don’t have to - I should have knocked louder. This- this is private for you and I know we’ve done some stuff but I doubt you meant for me to see-”

“It’s for research” Spencer blurted out, interrupting you. At this, your brows furrowed, head tilting to the side.

“Research?”

“Well, uh, yeah…” he trailed off, awkwardly standing by the couch, the laptop still open and playing. He rubbed one large palm across the back of his neck as his eyes pleaded with you to accept his answer.

“Well, what are you researching, Dr. Reid?”

Your use of his title while talking about this went straight to his cock. You’d never called him that when you two were wrapped up in each other and now he found he wanted you to do it again. His breathing had gotten heavy as you stood there, waiting for him to either answer or change the subject. You were more than curious now, but still respected Spencer’s boundaries. When he didn’t reply at all, you walked to him slowly, stopping right in front of him.

“Do you want to tell me about your research, Dr. Reid or should I drop it and you can ask me what you wanted to ask?”

Spencer’s eyes darted between you and laptop, the tips of his ears turning red.

“They’re… they’re related”. He softly replied.

“… so you didn’t invite me here to end the lessons?”

Spencer’s head shot to yours from where he’d been staring, his eyes widening comically large.

“No! Why would you- do you want to stop?” He sputtered out, moving his hands rapidly.

“No, but when someone sends a “we need to talk, I have to ask you something.” text, it generally isn’t good news…”

“Oh. I, I didn’t know that. I just wanted you to come over and I do have something to ask you but, I don’t think it’s a bad thing”.

“Okay….”

Spencer was tongue tied. For once, he had absolutely no words, no information he wanted to share. But his brain hadn’t stopped going, trying to run through every single possible scenario if he opened his mouth to explain.

You watched as Spencer displayed a variety of emotions in moments. You could feel his rising panic, and hated that you caused it. You looked at the laptop, then back at him. You heard yourself speak before you processed your own words,

“Do you want me to watch your… research with you?”

The words stopped Spencer’s mind, his brain focusing on the idea you’d just presented. Hesitantly, he nodded. You nodded back, turning to the door and hanging up your jacket. Once you’d removed your shoes, you walked over to the couch, sitting next to the space Spencer had been in and looking up at him expectantly. He sat down gingerly, pulling the headphone plug from his laptop, and restarting the video that was on the screen.

Immediately, you noticed that the two on the screen resembled the two of you. It started off with a stereotypical plot - the man coming to the door with flowers, and asking the woman who answered the door on a date. She had smiled, inviting him in, pulling him by his tie when he had nodded his consent. It was almost funny to watch, these people were definitely not professionals but so far you had no idea what Spencer could possibly be “researching”. It went the way a typical porno did, kissing, the man pleasing the woman, her using his tie to bind his hands and then her using him as if he was a toy made for her use. It was a bit surprising how long it actually went on. Afterwards, you chanced a glance at Spencer to find him red, staring at you.

“Alright… I give up. I have no idea what you want to ask me… or what you’re researching.”

Spencer half chuckled, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. He stood, walking to his kitchen and you watched him curiously, tracking his movements with your eyes. He walked back to you, hiding something behind his back. He moved in front of you, then cleared his throat.

“I- I wanted to know if you’d like to go on a date with me”. He spoke the words evenly, as if he’d rehearsed them in front of a mirror, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind him. Your favorite flowers.

“Wh-what?” You stuttered. Out of every single thing you thought Spencer would ask you, this was not it. And you had no idea how the hell it related to the porn you two had just watched.

You had reached for the flowers automatically, bringing the delicate blooms up to your nose and inhaling the sweet scent. You had mentioned your favorite flower to Spencer months ago, and he had remembered. No one had ever gotten you an entire bouquet before, and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you focused on their coloring.

You looked up at Spencer to find him tapping his finger against his thigh, a sign he was nervous and trying to hide it. You realized you hadn’t answered his question and rushed to do so,

“I’d love to go on a date with you!”

Spencer visibly relaxed, shooting you a shy smile. You sniffed the bouquet again, and softly thanked him before standing, wrapping your arms around him in a hug, careful not to hurt the flowers. You knew you were going to have to find a way to preserve them. He hugged you back tightly, resting his cheek on top of your head before pulling away.

“Do you have something I can keep these in until I leave? I don’t want to damage them.” You asked.

Spencer took your hand in his, leading you back to the kitchen where he had stored the flowers beforehand. When you were empty handed you turned to him, placing your palm on his cheek and leaning up to his kiss. He smiled into the kiss and you felt your heart beating faster.

“Wait - were you watching porn… to ask me on a date?”

The idea was absurd but unless he wanted to reenact part of the plot, you were clueless. You heard Spencer laugh nervously,

“Uh, kinda. There was more to it and that’s not the only one I watched…”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, now even more curious.

“And what else did you research, Spencer?”

He blushed and turned back to his laptop, bringing it to you and showing you the recently played section. There were more videos there than you anticipated, and each one had one thing in common: They all focused on female pleasure. More specifically, how a man should eat them out. They ranged from amateur videos to Las Vegas style productions. Your mouth dropped open and you felt your panties grow damp. Spencer Reid, who hated anything messy or sticky and who you frankly didn’t expect to ever want to engage in cunnilingus, who had answered yes/maybe? on the list, had watched hours of videos on the subject, because he wanted to research how to please you.

You cleared your own throat this time, wanting nothing more than to force him to his knees and put his research to use but remembering the promise you made yourself to take it slow. You two had never discussed why you were teaching Spencer - was he interested in you or were these just lessons so he’d know what to do with the next person? The idea of a next person caused your stomach to tie itself up in knots. While you consistently encouraged Spencer to tell you how he felt, to discuss his thoughts and emotions, you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to discuss the emotional reasoning behind what you two were doing. Yes, he had said he found you attractive, he definitely enjoyed what you two had done so far, but did he want more? Did he ask you on a date to go with the person teaching him about intimacy or did he want to go on a date with you?

You took a deep breath, knowing you couldn’t go through all the questions racing in your mind in front of him, needing to organize your thoughts before you spoke, not wanting to mess anything up because while you had started this to help out your cute friend, you were falling hard and fast. Spencer had remained quiet as you looked at the various videos, opening them at random but only letting a few seconds play out, barely even paying attention to the screen.

“Focus, self”, you thought. You looked up at Spencer again and smirked at him.

“And why would you want to research this, Dr. Reid?”

You handed him back his computer, surprised it still worked with how ancient it already was. He closed out of his tabs and shut the thing, before twisting his cardigan in between his fingers.

“I want to make you feel good. I’ve been having these dreams - and I don’t want to let you down. And… I wanted to see how to last longer”. His voice was soft, barely audible by the end and he’d gone back to avoiding eye contact. Your heart swelled at his words, needing to reassure him that he would never let you down. Not for anything like this.

You took his hands in your own, thumbs gently moving over the veins found on the back of his hands. Walking backwards you pulled him to the couch, sitting and patting your lap, indicating he should lay down and use your thighs as a pillow. His eyes lit up, eagerly obeying and you loved how he nestled into you, content to be close. Spencer wasn’t exactly a germaphobe but he didn’t let most people touch him, hated when anyone but you messed with his hair. He was starved for physical touch and he didn’t even realize it, didn’t seem to realize how often he sought out your touch but avoided everyone else’s. Your hands went to his head, gently massaging and scratching his scalp while playing with the soft strands. He hadn’t put product in today, the normally slicked back strands falling where they pleased, curling ever so slightly. He let out a tiny whimper when you tugged on some strands, and you made a note to do that in the future. He moaned softly, cheeks flushing baby pink when you applied more pressure, his eyes closing as his long lashes tickled him.

“Spencer, you aren’t ever gonna let me down, honey. It doesn’t matter if you don’t get something like this right on the first try, or the second, or any other time. And it’s okay if we try something and you hate it or dislike it or just don’t want to do it again. I, I more than appreciate how much you wanna please me. But I don’t want you to pressure yourself or feel like you have to live up to a specific standard. You’re doing everything right, we’ve got all the time you need, honey. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Your said the words so gently, taking care to continue playing with his hair, making sure your tone conveyed the level of sincerity it needed, that Spencer would understand he didn’t have to prove himself to you. He looked at you, biting his lower lip before speaking as softly as you had.

“Everything you do to me feels good. I just want to return the favor. And there’s not exactly research papers written on the best ways to please a woman… and in a way, porn is peer reviewed so I just… started watching to see if I could get some tips. Plus, I’m worried about… ending too soon. I want to be good for you”.

He whispered the last line, closing his eyes again to avoid seeing your expression. The sentence stirred something in you though, the thought of calling him your good boy when he was between your thighs flashed in your mind.

You tugged on the strands of hair near the bottom his neck more roughly, causing Spencer to bite his tongue to try to avoid making noise, a low whimper still managing to escape. His eyes had shot open, not used to you tugging his hair.

“You wanna be my good boy, Spencer?” You purred.

You saw him bite the inside of his cheek as he nodded, flushing once more. You fought a smirk, managing to grin down at him instead as one hand trailed up and down his arm, your fingertips just barely touching him.

“Then I know just what you need to do”.

“What’s that?” Spencer asked, voice curious.

“Plan a good date for us and I’ll reward you for being a good boy. Normally, I wouldn’t kiss on a first date but for you, I’ll make an exception and plan something extra special for you. How’s that sound, honey?”

Spencer swallowed, his brain flooding ideas of what you could do, logically knowing it would be something to do with the porn he had been watching, but knowing you’d somehow put a twist on it. He had already wanted to take you on an unforgettable date, but this incentive gave him the determination to go the extra step.

“Yes m-ma’am”.

“A good date doesn’t have to be expensive or extravagant, okay honey? I want a special Dr. Spencer Reid date, something you want to experience with me.”

He gave you a shy smile in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You remembered his other concern and didn’t hide your smirk this time,

“As for your other concern, however long you last is long enough. I’m not going to be mad or upset with you. Besides, you’re capable of finishing more than once in a night, remember?”

His eyes widened, blinking up at you.

“But, you have to take breaks for that and it can’t be fun for you to just… wait for me to get an erection again.”

Spencer was a genius but you forgot how innocent he could be. The man could give you a list of the most absurd kinks in alphabetical order but didn’t know about more of the basic ones - like overstimulation.

You gave a light laugh. “Not entirely true. We can keep going, but you’d be highly sensitive and it’s something that’s part pain, part pleasure for a little bit before the pleasure overwhelms. But we wouldn’t do that if you didn’t want to, I’d be perfectly fine waiting however long you needed, okay?”

He nodded, digesting the information and you two gradually changed the subject, ending it with him asking you to lay on the couch so he could lay himself between your legs, resting his head on your chest while you two watched TV. There was kissing, and cuddling, but nothing went further, Spencer’s mind on planning the perfect date.

He spent two entire weeks planning, praying to whatever deity would listen to not be called in for a case the entire weekend. He had focused on your words - something he wanted to do with you- a Spencer Reid date. The problem was he had never taken anyone on a date. The one he had tried to have with JJ had been a disaster and he hadn’t been comfortable in that environment. While he knew you thought it was ridiculous, the porn had been partially research - at least it gave him a starting point. He’d also read through multiple classic romance novels before he finally decided on what to do. Truthfully, none of his “research” had helped, except maybe showing him what not to do.

He asked you to dress nicely, but still comfortably, and said he’d pick you up at 7 sharp. You had been curious, knowing Spencer hated driving and also wondering what he’d planned. He had said to not eat beforehand but besides the dress code, he hadn’t given you any clues. You bought an outfit for the occasion, wearing primarily purple, his favorite color, and decided to surprise him with your own pair of black converse instead of forcing yourself into heels. He would also be surprised with the matching lingerie set you had on underneath, but only if he was good, of course.

Right at 7, you heard a sharp rap on your door, opening to see Spencer standing there with a paper bouquet.

“They’re pages from your favorite book. Well, I printed the pages because I didn’t want to destroy a book of course, and then I learned origami and it’s really fascinating-”

He cut himself off, looking down at the ground momentarily before looking back up to see you smiling at him. He noticed your appearance then, exhaling loudly.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered.

You reached out, taking the delicately crafted bouquet, already knowing that no matter what you two did after this, it was sure to be the best date of your life.

“Thank you. You look very nice as well.” you replied to him.

You invited Spencer in, grabbing a vase sans water to display the bouquet before turning to grab your bag. Spencer held out his arm for you to take, leading you to his old Volkswagen car. He opened your door, helping you in before walking to the other side. He was calmer than you expected and it was a change that you were the nervous one this time.

Classical music was playing as he drove you into the city, and he hesitantly reached over, taking your hand in his own. The action settled your nerves and you turned to look at his profile,

“Tell me all about the origami.”

Spencer lit up, smiling broadly and begin telling you everything he’d learned. The conversation lasted until you two arrived outside a building you didn’t recognize. Spencer parked, getting out of the car and opening your door once more. He finally noticed your Converse, putting his foot next to your own. The smile he gave you spread across his whole face and you returned it with your own.

It appeared you two were at a small bookstore, but it looked closed. Quietly, you waited, watching as Spencer produced a key from his pocket, opening the closed bookstore. He held the door for you once again and you walked in, waiting for him just inside the store. Spencer led you up a staircase to the left of the entrance, rotating on the dimming light switch to reveal a scene straight from a fairytale.

You felt like crying, bringing a hand to cover your open mouth. Spencer had apparently brought over his record player, Sam Cook playing in the background. A small round table with a crisp white table cloth had been set for two, a covered picnic basket sitting between two chairs. Books surrounded the entire area, a small loveseat near an unlit fire place, with a worn rug covering the ground. You looked back over at him to see him standing, tapping his fingers along his thigh, just barely rocking from one foot to the next. You approached him on silent feet,

“This is… incredible, Spencer”.

He let out the breath he’d been holding. Guiding you to the table and pulling out your chair. Then he unloaded the picnic basket and you laughed at the assortment of foods he had spread around. It was the opposite of fancy or extravagant- every type of food you two normally ate while watching TV - from Indian to Chinese to slices of greasy pizza. It was like he couldn’t decide so he bought some of everything. Once everything was unloaded he sat, looking at you eagerly. Suddenly he stood back up, rushing over to the corner and returning with a chilled glass bottle of sparkling juice. He held it out to you as if he was a waiter, and you let out a laugh before picking up the glass flute, holding it for him to fill. Spencer struggled to uncork the juice, flushing lightly and you giggled once more. You clapped when he got it open, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

He filled your glass and then his own, and you held it up to cheers with him.

“To you, Spencer Reid. And the start of what I can already say is the best date.”

Spencer clinked your glass and spoke himself,

“To you. For everything you are.”

You smiled at him, and the two of you started eating, talking about everything and nothing at all. When you were done, Spencer stood, offering you his hand. You took it, letting him lead you over to the love seat. You let him light the fireplace, surprised he knew how to get it going. He then walked back over and cuddled into you on the loveseat, sitting closer than he normally would.

“How am I doing so far?” He whispered in your ear, his voice steady.

You hummed at him, turning your head to give him a sweet kiss as your answer. You felt him smile into the kiss as you wrapped your hands in his hair. Deciding to test the theory you had when you two talked about the date, you tugged his hair suddenly, swallowing the whine he let out.

“Mmm, I’d say you’re on your way to being very good, Dr. Reid”.

“Well, I’ve got something else planned, actually a, uh, a couple of options”.

“Yeah? Hit me with em, Doc”.

“We can stay here and read together, I- I know the owner so they let me set this up tonight. We can go get ice cream for dessert, take a walk in the park together, or I can take you home”.

“Mmm, how about you read to me for a little bit? I like listening to your voice. I’m skipping the ice cream - you stuffed me full!” You said with a laugh.

Spencer blushed red, stuttering before he managed to get out what he was trying to say,

“That’s fine. I- I was hoping you’d consent to being dessert tonight anyway”.

You threw your head back laughing, remembering that specific line from the porn you two had watched together, unable to fully believe that Spencer Reid had just said that out loud.

“Read something out loud and we can talk about that later, Casanova.”

Spencer gave a broad grin, picking a book of poetry and began to read aloud. You leaned into him, just listening to the sound of his voice. You tried to never interrupt Spencer would he talked, even if he was talking about something you would never understand. You loved the amount of knowledge he had, how excited he would get to share that knowledge with someone. You watched him, the firelight casting him in a warm glow as his long fingers wrapped around the ancient text. You could listen to him talk forever. You waited for him to finish the poem he was reading and when he looked up at you to find you staring, you spoke softly.

“Why did you ask me on this date, Spencer?”

You were afraid of the answer, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking. Spencer looked confused, cocking his head at you like a puppy.

You were brave. You could do this. It was Spencer for crying out loud.

“Did you ask me… because you wanted to learn about dates… or because you wanted to take me on a date?”

Spencer seemed to understand now and his eyes softened.

“Both, really. I… I asked you to teach me because I trust you, but also because… you’re you. You know?”

You slowly nodded. You still had questions, wanted to know how serious this could get, but you leaned into Spencer instead, kissing him and whispering against his lips,

“Take me home, Dr. Reid”.

You helped Spencer gather the remaining food and his record player, loading up his car. He locked the door, and opened your car door. Before he shut it though, he asked,

“Do you- do you mean your home or my home?”

“Yours”.

It didn’t take long to get there, helping carry all his supplies up to apartment 23. You insisted on helping him put the food away, and in a surprising act, Spencer turned the record player back on. You approached him, removing your converse,

“Dance with me, please?”

“I don’t know how to dance”

“Then it’s another lesson”.

Spencer smiled and pulled you into him, letting you arrange his hands around you. Slowly, he spun you around his living room. By the end of the song, you had cuddled close to him, your head resting on his chest. When the record player stopped playing, you looked up at him, seeing him smile that soft smile only you got to see.

“You’ve been very good, Dr. Reid. And I believe I promised you a reward”

“Can my reward be you?”

“I’m already yours”. You told him, knowing he wouldn’t realize the entire truth of that statement.

“I want to taste you” he whispered in your ear. Your breath hitched, the dreams you’d had for the last few weeks coming to the forefront of your mind.

“Will I be allowed to return the favor?”

Spencer didn’t reply, just bringing his hands to hold your face and kissing you intensely.

“Please” he pleaded and you nodded, letting him kiss down your neck as he moved you towards his bedroom. He moved to sit you on his bed but you stopped him.

“Help me take this off?”

He reached for your carefully planned outfit, peeling it off your body and he stopped breathing when he saw what you were wearing underneath. Delicate lilac lace covered your chest, cupping your breasts and pushing them just slightly together. You were watching a matching set of panties, and he could see a darkened patch on the fabric. If he hadn’t been hard before, he definitely was now, his cock twitching in his pants. He wanted to bury his head between your breasts before burying himself between your thighs. He had tried to be confident all evening, tried to get out of his head. He could tell you’d enjoyed his surprise, and he definitely liked the surprise he was seeing now. But this part…

You could see the appreciation on Spencer’s face, until it turned to apprehension. His hands lightly rested on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the exposed skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him. He bent, kissing you deeply. Slowly, you moved his hands from your waist to your chest and he groaned.

He kissed down your neck, comfortable with this part of intimacy now. He loved the feeling of your skin under his lips, sucking on your pulse point, confident now in how to leave a mark. The soft sighs you were making egging him on. He sucked along the swell of your breast, nibbling on your hardened nipple through the lace. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to take the fabric off or enjoy the sight of you in it longer. You made the decision for him,

“Take it off, please”.

He chuckled, reaching a hand to unclasp your bra but kept his mouth on your skin. With the fabric gone, he sucked the now bare nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue against the bud. He used his hand on your other breast, pinching your nipple between two fingers and twisting lightly. The moan you let out went straight to his cock. He maneuvered you to the bed, only letting go so you could climb up and rest on the pillows. His fingers danced along the hem of your panties and you lifted your hips, silently telling him he could remove them.

He pulled them down while staring at you,

“You’re exquisite”. He whispered, still meeting your eyes.

You blushed at the sincerity of his voice and resisted the urge to cover yourself, instead spreading your legs to invite him to do whatever it was he wanted. He gulped, before leaning over you to kiss you and then he moved down your body, lying on his stomach with his face between your thighs. His hands rested on your inner thighs and he looked up at you, biting his lower lip. You moved a hand to cup his cheek,

“We don’t have to do this honey”

“I want to. I really want to. I just… want it to be good”.

“Do what feels right to you. I’ll let you know if I don’t like something, okay? And remember, we can stop whenever you want. If you don’t like this, you can tell me.”

He shakily nodded and bent his head to kiss your thighs, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses to your wet cunt. You heard him inhale, then groan, watching as his eyes fluttered shut. He shuffled along the bed, bringing himself closer to you and you felt him lightly lick a strip up through your folds.

He whined, raising his head to meet your eyes. He had a desperate look on his face, his pupils blown wild.

“You taste amazing” was all he said before he dove back in.

Every single research technique he’d looked up, every idea he had gotten from the many hours of watching porn disappeared from his head. The only thought Spencer could think was that he needed more. He dove into your cunt, using the flat of his tongue to part your folds and diving straight into your entrance. He heard you cry out his name, felt your hands wrap in his hair, as he tongue fucked you, lapping at your core. He moved his mouth up to your clit and circled it with his tongue before sucking it harshly. You tugged his hair and he moaned against you, and decided to repeat the action.

It didn’t take him long to find a rhythm that pleased you both, and he learned from the way your hands moved in his hair, the way your breathing would stutter, what you liked best. His lower jaw was covered in your wetness and he didn’t care in the slightest, could only think that he wanted more.

You couldn’t believe what was happening. After that first tentative lick, it was as if the shy man before you had been possessed. He was everywhere, licking up your slit, lightly biting at your labia, sucking on your clit while thrusting his tongue against the bundle of nerves. He kept changing his pace and pressure, unintentionally edging you. His moans sent vibrations through your core and the moment he remembered he could use his fingers in conjunction with his mouth, it was over. Your hands tightened in his hair,

“Sp-Spencer yes oh my go- yes please don’t stop, gonna make me cum, yes baby please” you begged as his eyes finally raised to meet yours. He had two long fingers thrusting into you, curling them up to hit the spongy button inside while he sucked your clit, the tip of his tongue circling the bundle in a teasing manner.

You knew your orgasm was fast approaching. Spencer saw you throw your head back against the pillows, chest heaving and when you bucked your hips he instinctually used an arm to pin you down. He continued thrusting his fingers but broke away long enough to tell you he wanted you to orgasm on his face before he was back to what he’d been doing.

Your thighs tightened around his head and he could tell you were almost there. He made sure he could see you, as he gave one hard suck and watched you fall apart. He lapped up every bit of your release, and didn’t stop until you were pulling his head away. He whined when you did so, begging you.

“Please - one more- wanna, wanna be good for you, let me make you feel good, please”

Your chest was heaving as one of the best orgasms of your life faded away. Spencer was pouting at you, his large eyes glassy.

“Take, take off your shirt, Spencer. And the pants. Wanna feel your skin, please”

“Then I can do more?” He asked, already standing to obey, his fingers fumbling with all the buttons. He was glad you hadn’t asked him to strip completely, although he wasn’t positive he would have told you no. His cock was throbbing, begging for friction in his boxers and he was glad to rid himself from the tight confines of his pants.

You used the moment to catch your breath and when Spencer had stripped to his boxers, and mismatched socks, you pulled him to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. You felt his cock through his clothing against your stomach and groaned, wishing you two were ready for that step. Instead you answered him,

“Yes”.

He beamed, nodding quickly.

“Yes, yes ma’am, thank you”

He pecked your lips once more then dove back in. His tongue immediately found your entrance, and his fingers found your swollen clit. You moaned his name, tugging his head further into you. You knew that Spencer was an excellent speaker but you had no idea he was going to be like this. You were dripping wet, and you couldn’t tell if it was his saliva or just how turned on you were but you didn’t care. Your second orgasm was building embarrassingly fast, as you rocked your hips against Spencer’s face. He picked up his pace, whimpering against you as he humped into the mattress below. His cock was so hard it hurt but he didn’t want to break away from your sweet pussy to do anything about it. He craved your release, needed it more than he needed air.

You were struggling not to scream, not to moan so loudly his elderly neighbors would hear. You settled for chanting his name, one hand leaving his hair to grasp the bed sheet beneath you. He didn’t stop this time, knew now when you were right on the edge, and he kept up the steady pressure until you were falling, your back arching as your second orgasm, somehow stronger than the first, swept through you. The way you sounded caused Spencer to tense himself, as he came in his boxers without you even touching him. He moaned into you, the vibrations causing little after shocks to move through your sensitive body. You were the one who whimpered and he finally pulled away. You hadn’t realized that he’d came just from eating you out and rubbing against the bed, too focused on learning how to breathe normally again. You looked at the man still between your legs in amazement.

“That- that can’t have been your first time” you said between breaths.

He laughed, struggling to control his breathing as well.

“So… I did alright?”

“Better than alright. So good. I - I can’t move, wow”.

Spencer stood, intent on getting something to clean up with and you gasped. He saw your eyes zoom in on the wet spot his own release had caused. Instead of getting embarrassed though, he shrugged his shoulders, looking at you lying naked in his bed. He was almost cocky sounding as he came back from his bathroom with a towel and a shirt for you,

“I told you - you taste amazing”.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

Text

The List and a First

His First Time Series, Chapter 2

Summary: Spencer asked you to teach him about sex. Rather than jumping right in, you agree to go step by step. Spencer wants to start right away.

Tags: plot and smut. 18+, MDNI. Grinding, cumming in pants, clothing on, kissing, aftercare, implied fem reader, pet names, a few swears (jackass and ass)

"Will you teach me about sex?"

Spencer had blurted out as you parked your car in his parking lot.

You blinked owlishly at him, not sure if you'd heard correctly. "Come again?"

"I-I'm so sorry, no, forget l- oh crap, I'm so sorry" he hurriedly said, trying and failing to find the car door to make a quick escape. You were quicker though - locking the door, and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Spencer - Spencer! Stop, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. I just wasn't expecting that question. Why don't we order dinner tonight and we can talk? This seems like a sit down kind of discussion".

Spencer's breathing had picked up while you were talking. He couldn't believe he'd actually asked you. He especially couldn't believe that you hadn't thrown him out of your car in disgust. His ears picked up your words not mad - dinner - discuss. Logically, he knew that was a better plan but actually talking about this sounded terrifying. Nodding silently, he agreed with your suggestion. Yeah, discuss his thoughts. He could do that. It was just you and him, after all.

You pulled out your phone and called in a delivery order from the car, already knowing the types of foods Spencer would or would not eat. Spencer’s breathing hadn’t calmed as you both got out of the car, climbing the stairs to apartment 23. You’d been over so many times before and you’d never witnessed Spencer’s hand shake as it currently was, trying to unlock his door. You didn’t say anything yet, waiting patiently as he did his daily returning home routine. Spencer tried to focus on his current task, but he looked up, and then there you were, taking off your shoes and blazer to sit on his couch. He stopped his movements, deciding to finish later, and stood awkwardly, looking down at his mismatched socks, afraid to sit near you. You patted the cushions next to you and he sat, still not meeting your eyes.

"Spencer, look at me. It's just me. If you want to forget this entirely, we can, but Spencer, it seems like it's something that's been bothering you. Is this about what that jackass said? He was a dick and incorrect. You're amazing, Spencer. I'm not going to judge you and I'm not mad - let's just talk, okay?" Your voice was low and soft, your hand on his knee, body angled towards him.

Spencer lifted his head, meeting your gaze before he whispered, "But he was right. I don't know what to do besides kiss you and even that, I don't really know". He could feel himself getting worked up, could hear the man in his head, could hear the other insults that he'd heard his whole life.

"Spencer Reid, stop those thoughts right now! I can see you getting lost in your head. So what, if you don't have much experience? That's fine AND perfectly normal! And for the record, you know EXACTLY what you're doing when you kiss, nothing to learn there at all".

"Wait - what? I'm - what" Spencer sputtered out, face blushing at your soft laugh.

"Yes, Spencer. That was honestly one of, if not the, best kiss of my life. You don't need to go by someone else's timeline for anything sexual - go at your own pace".

Spencer stared at you, sure that you were lying or making fun of him. But you looked so genuine, and you'd never tried to hurt him before. His brain was still going too fast and suddenly the words were tumbling out before he could stop them,

"I don't want to be inexperienced forever. And I liked kissing you, more than I thought I would, and then I thought that maybe you could take my virginity"? He winced that his voice was so high pitched at the end, his words slurring together the faster he spoke.

You didn't say anything for a moment and a knock on the door signaling dinner had already arrived already broke your train of thought. Holding up one finger in a "one moment" gesture, you got up to bring the food over. Once it was set on the coffee table in front of you, two plates in your hand, you decided to speak, being careful of your words.

"Spencer, you can't or shouldn't just jump straight to sex. I'm flattered and frankly a little honored that you trust me enough to ask this, but it's not something I'm going to just do".

You were trying to formulate the words necessary to explain your half baked plan but Spencer took what you said as a firm no. He started apologizing profusely, asking you to just forget it. You had to interrupt his speech - something you never did - before he spiraled down too far.

"I'm not saying no! I'm just saying I'm not comfortable going straight to sex with you, honey".

"Then- then what do you mean? Why not?" The use of a pet name caught his attention, and he felt his chest warm hearing you call him something other than his name.

Sighing, you looked at him. Spencer was logical and had trouble connecting to his emotions - perhaps a demonstration would help explain, just like when you first met and physically showed him the difference in handguns.

"Alright, Spencer, stand up and strip for me. Let me see you".

"What!" The squeak that Spencer managed to gasp out would have been funny in any other situation. He turned bright red, his hands shaking. He had almost stopped breathing entirely and you rushed to comfort him.

Gently, you grabbed his hands in yours. "That's why, honey. When you're learning to swim, you don't jump off the diving board into the deep end. You work up to it so you're comfortable every step of the way, right? Think of this logically - it's a new skill, so you start at the beginning.”

Your thumbs were tracing circles on the back of Spencer's hands as he listened to your explanation. It made sense. Plus the idea of getting naked, right now, in front of you, with all the lights on? That was terrifying.

"O-Okay, what is the beginning "?

"What we've already done. Hugging, gentle touches, kissing - we build on that and go from there. Honestly, if you want the whole experience, we can get a list together - things you want to try vs things you don't."

Spencer flushed at this and looked at you questioningly. You continued, "like grinding, masturbating in front of each other, hand jobs, cuddling, blow jobs, prostate massages, normal massages. There’s a whole world of things you can do before sex. Things that are considered foreplay or can be the entire act itself.”

Spencer was still blushing, one hand tapping against his knee, a tell that he was thinking too hard.

“You can ask or say whatever it is, Spencer. I’m never going to get upset with you for being honest”. You whispered to him, and Spencer found himself wondering once more why he’d never considered you in a romantic light.

He looked at you and suddenly couldn't stop the mental images of you, wondering exactly what you'd look like when he brought you to the brink of ecstasy. Taking a deep breath, and closing his eyes, he spoke again. “What- what about how to pleasure you? How to…. Make you feel good? What about… intimacy in general?” His voice had dropped to below a whisper, and he winced, sure that now he’d stepped over an imaginary line.

You smiled at him. "There’s many ways to do that. And honestly, we could try something and you hate it or there could be something you're not sure of that you end up absolutely loving. Intimacy doesn’t have to be sexual in nature, it’s just two people feeling close and being supported emotionally.” You stopped here, taking the delivered food out of the bag and arranging a plate for him, making sure none of the foods touched and that you didn’t touch his food with your bare hands either. You wanted to give him a moment to think before you said anything else. He smiled softly when you handed him his plate, then looked down at his lap bashfully. He wasn’t used to anyone doing things for him, even something as simple as this.

“I want you to show me all types of intimacy. And the, the pleasure stuff too.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes, but his voice held just a twinge of confidence.

Gently, you placed your hand under his chin, encouraging him to meet your eyes.

“Spencer, if you want to do this, you'll have to be completely honest with me. Sex and sexual intimacy is about being vulnerable - you can't bottle things up or withhold your feelings or your questions. I know it’s scary to do that.”

"Honesty. Vulnerable. Got it, I think."

“Spencer, I really mean it and I want you to think about it really carefully. If there’s something you don’t like, you have to trust me enough to tell me that. Or vice versa. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you because of miscommunication.”

Spencer slowly nodded, then cocked his head at you.

“Do you have a list I could look at?”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh. "No honey, I don't just carry a list with me of different sexual experiences or activities. Come on, let's eat and we can talk more afterwards, and then you can think about everything".

Unfortunately for him, you two had just finished eating when his cell rang, alerting him to another case. You wouldn't be working on this one though, but said you'd drive him back to Quantico before heading home. Before leaving his apartment, you pulled him over to you,

"I'll get a list together for when you get back, okay handsome? If you decide you don’t want to do this though, I need you to know that’s okay. I’m not going to hold anything against you. If you decide it’s really what you want, then we can talk more about specifics and emotions. This is up to you, alright?

He smiled down at you, still in disbelief that you had talked to him instead of running out the door screaming, touched that you kept repeating it was his choice. He would think about everything because you’d asked him to but he already knew he wouldn’t change his mind. You had agreed to teach him, he would be crazy to back out.

You were staring at him expectantly, and he realized you wanted him to respond.

“Right, uh,- I’ll think about it, I promise. How does a list work though?”

You chuckled, leading him out of his apartment to drive back to Quantico.

“I’ll just put together a list of things - and you’ll put yes, no, or maybe next to them. Yes means you want to try that, no is a hard limit - it means you don’t want to even talk about doing it, and maybe means you want to discuss it before deciding. You’re gonna have to fill this out on your own - this whole list will be filled entirely with your choices.”

Spencer looked over at you as you drove,

“Why would I answer maybe?”

You hummed, tapping a finger along the steering wheel and wondering what Spencer Reid would be hesitant about. Then it hit you,

“Cunnilingus.” You replied, grinning as Spencer’s cheeks flushed. You continued on, “you said you wanted to learn both sides, so eating me out would be one of those ways to give pleasure. But, it can get messy and involves fluids on your face. I assume that’s one you’d want to think about, but I could be wrong”.

Spencer shuffled in his seat at your words. He did hate mess but he also knew that getting to taste you was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up, the very thought made his heart race.

He tried to listen as you continued speaking,

“Or it could just be a term that you’re unfamiliar with or you know theoretically what it is but not the practical application.”

At this he nodded. He had done research on sex before, surprised at just how many different kinks there truly were, and he remembered a few things that he’d actually watched porn on simply because he didn’t understand how it was possible.

You had pulled into the Quantico garage, near the visitor side since you weren’t staying. You put the car in park and reached over to grab Spencer’s hand before he could get out.

“Remember, whatever you decide is alright. I’m not going to be upset or tease you, okay?”

Spencer shot you a shy smile, “okay”. His eyes darted down to your lips and you voiced the thought ringing in his brain,

“May I give you a goodbye kiss, handsome?”

Eagerly, he shook his head, his hair flopping onto his forehead. You smiled and cupped his cheek, giving him a soft kiss. He flushed once more and attempted to get out of the car, fumbling the handle and tripping on the sidewalk as he tried to walk and wave goodbye to you. By the time he got to the elevator inside, he had been able to get his emotions under control, ready to focus on the next serial killer. But in the back of his head, he was already wondering what types of things he would ever say no to.

————

Thankfully, the case was solved quickly and Spencer was able to come home in less than a week. You had handed him a folded paper as you were leaving work, telling him to call you soon - you had a new movie you wanted him to see. He wasn’t too sure how serious you were about that, since you’d winked at him when talking.

Spencer hurried home, afraid to open the folded paper in public and immediately sat at his small dining table. Yes, no, maybe. He could do this. He still couldn't believe this was happening but as he looked at the surprisingly extensive list you’d given him, he found his nerves calming. This was paperwork. This was a fun quiz that he wouldn’t be graded on, but it would open discussions. Learning something new, paperwork, and then talking.

The first few were easy - holding hands, hugging, cuddling with clothing on, kissing, touching over the clothes. All those got marked yes, without even having to think. Things got more real the farther down the list he went. He had never gotten turned on just from thinking about a sexual act, but as he read, he squirmed in his seat, feeling his pants tightening. Looking down at the obvious tent in his pants, he stood, going to his bedroom to change into soft pajama pants and an old Cal-Tech tshirt. He sighed when he realized that his cock was no longer as constrained, wondered if he was actually going to masturbate for the first time in months just from reading these options.

He sat back down, reading through the next part of the list. Grinding on him til orgasm with clothing, handjob through his clothing, handjob without clothing, blowjob. Yes, yes, yes, and yes. He suddenly laughed, realizing you’d put in funny things, probably trying to get him to relax. Blowjob while watching Star Trek, roleplaying while dressed like the Doctor. He was surprised by just how many things there were until he finally got down to actual sexual intercourse. But even then, he had expected a single line and instead there were multiple - vaginal sex, anal sex, getting pegged (his cock actually twitched at this and he hoped you wouldn’t notice how his writing was darker as he wrote “yes”).

He flipped over the paper and saw you had written even more things - and for the first time he had to write no, and maybe. Temperature play? He didn’t understand what that actually was, why it was enjoyable- that was a maybe. Weapon play? No. Blindfolding you? Maybe. Being blindfolded? Absolute no. He raised his eyebrows at some of the kinks, at some of the questions about where you were allowed to touch him (everywhere? He hoped…) and he finally got to the end, his breath hitching at the final section. You’d attached proof of being clean, and being on birth control, then had asked him if he would prefer condoms, or if not, where he’d like to finish. You also stated this would be monogamous but he could end it at anytime. He briefly wondered what you’d say if he asked you to teach him forever, before forcing the thought away, locking it in the box of “do not touch” in the back of his brain.

Spencer licked his lips, looking at the list again, satisfied he had answered everything the way he wanted. He reached for his phone, ready to call you, but a knock at his door stopped him. Confused, he answered his door, and immediately smiled when he saw you standing on the other side of the door, holding a bag of food in casual clothing.

“Did I get the timing right”? You smirked at him as he opens the door, wondering if he somehow summoned you to his door with his thoughts alone.

“Excuse me?” He asked, cocking his head.

“I guessed you would come home for the list immediately and based on what I know of you, you should have just finished. I also figured you skipped dinner, again, hence the food. So, how close was my timing?”

He stares at you in stunned disbelief.

“…. Under 30 seconds”. He mutters, going to open the bag you had handed him, smiling that you once more had gotten his order right, wondering when it was that you had picked up on all his food quirks. You had moved to sit on his couch, grinning like the cat who caught the canary. Spencer wondered if you saw the list, knew it was in your line of sight and couldn’t understand why you hadn’t grabbed it immediately. He handed you your own sandwich, and then stood in between the couch and the table, his eyes darting over to the list.

“Eat first, Spencer. You can show me whenever you’re ready, I’m just here to make sure you take care of yourself tonight”.

He smiles at you, feels his shoulders relax from tension he didn’t even know he had and comes to sit next to you. You hand him the remote and he eagerly finds the next episode of Star Trek, still thrilled you had agreed to watch the entire series start to finish with him. You two eat and watch, Spencer keeping up a steady commentary as normal but once he’s finished his sandwich, he starts fidgeting. His loose t-shirt suddenly feels too tight against his neck, his leg starts bouncing up and down. Before you say anything, he stands and walks over to the list, grabbing it before thrusting it into your hands.

Instead of reading it, you pause the TV and motion for him to sit back down. When he obeys, you place a hand on his arm, and whisper softly to him,

“Hey, we don’t have to do a single thing. There is no reason to be nervous, it’s just you and me here, doing another TV night together, right?”

You watch as he swallows, then nods his head towards the paper in your hand. You hand it to him, then speak,

“Alright honey, let’s go over it together, okay?”

His hand shakes while he clutches his list and he sees you read the first few lines.

“Ah, so cuddling is alright, huh?”

“Y-yes”

“Good”, is all you say before you slide up next to him, wrapping an arm behind his waist and leaning your head on his shoulder. Tentatively he lays his own head on yours and he relaxes when he feels you sigh, nuzzling closer to him, happy to have gotten that part right on his own.

Together, you read the list, going over some of the maybes vaguely. You read through all his questions and make sure he knows that anything on the list can be revisited, his answers allowed to change, and that he has to be honest. In a moment of bravery, he wraps an arm around you, and whispers into your hair,

“Could- could we start now?”

He loves the sound of your laugh, knows you’re not laughing at him, and is even happier when you move away to cup his face again.

“Sure, honey - oh! Does that bother you? I forgot to add pet names on the list - I can call you by just your name if you want”.

“No!” He blurts out, “I- I like it.”

Your eyes soften at his admission and you lean in, kissing his forehead.

“Alright, handsome. What in those top few things did you want to try?”

Spencer’s mind blanks. He hadn’t expected to pick, had hoped you’d just… do something. He looks at you with wide eyes and you play with his hair,

“Hey, it’s okay. I just need to know your comfort level, that’s all. We can cuddle and finish Star Trek, or hold hands and talk. Slow and steady, Spencer”.

He deflates at those options and blurts out,

“Can we make out?”

He blushes furiously, unable to understand why his mouth has stopped having a filter around you, feeling as if the question was so juvenile. But you don’t laugh at him, instead bringing your face close to his and whispering right against his lips,

“Kiss me, Spencer”.

Eagerly, he does, immediately cupping your face, and when you nibble on his bottom lip he groans, feels your tongue slide against his own and whines at the feeling. His eyes had closed automatically and he only opens them when you break apart to breathe. He chases your lips like he did at the lounge, desperate for more. The angle is awkward though, and he doesn’t want to stop kissing you, so he pushes you backwards, leaning over you without realizing. He doesn’t know how close your lower halves are until he bucks his hips and is met with your thighs, the feeling causing him to whimper. He pulls back, eyes wide and looks down at himself, realizing he’s gotten hard again, just from kissing you.

“I- I’m sorry” he says, suddenly afraid he’d done something wrong, that you’d felt his erection through the thin plaid cotton. He had asked to make out and this was more.

You didn’t look disgusted though, still smiling that soft smile reserved only for him.

“Your pace, honey. Do what feels right, let’s empty those thoughts from that big brain”.

Your fingers were carding through his hair again and you were still partially under him, although the position was still awkward. He didn’t know how to change it smoothly, his eyes darting between you and the whole couch. He didn’t want to just manhandle you but asking “can you please lay fully on the couch so I can press my body against yours” wasn’t something he was going to ask.

Honesty. No holding back. Spencer took a deep breath, felt his cock twitch, and you stayed silent, letting him build up confidence before,

“Could we lay on the couch, together?”

There, he thought, he’d asked and it hadn’t sounded awful.

“Course we can, I’m proud of you for asking. I know that was hard”. You were determined to praise Spencer for everything, your friendship had taught you many things about him but one that saddened you to no end was that Spencer didn’t believe he was allowed to feel things, allowed to be something other than the resident genius.

You moved up the couch, laying fully on the leather and opened your arms to Spencer, who crawled over top of you. The couch cushions moved and he found it harder to steady himself than he thought he would, but before he worried you were calming him, as if you could read his thoughts.

“You can lay on me, honey. It’s okay to touch me, I promise.”

He nodded, still trying to figure out where to put his hands when you reached up, moving a lock of his hair behind his ears and then running your fingers along his back. He shuddered at the gentle touch, hips bucking and he bit his tongue to hide the noise he wanted to make. You widened your legs, moving so that his body was in between them, putting one foot practically off the couch. You wanted to just wrap your legs around Spencer, force him to sit and straddle him, to look down at his erection and see exactly what he was hiding before grinding down on him but this was about him, not you. One step at a time.

He had figured out how to place his hands, and your chest brushed against his when he moved to kiss you once more. What had been urgent before slowed gently, and Spencer relished the feel of your body against him, the feel of your hands on his back. You shifted up, just a tiny bit, breaking the kiss to kiss his jaw and along his neck. The movement caused you to brush against his lower half once more, and he wanted you to do it again.

Spencer’s wide eyes were blown with lust, his hair messy from your hands running through it, pink lips swollen from kissing him.

“This still okay, handsome?” You asked, pressing another open mouth kiss to his jaw.

“M-more” he stuttered out.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart. Use your words, it’s alright”.

Spencer whined, both at the question and because you’d stopped kissing him. The problem was he didn’t know what he wanted, just knew he needed more.

“I don’t know” he told you, obviously frustrated.

“Alright, alright, it’s okay. How about we try something? If you don’t like it, we stop, just say the word”.

Spencer eagerly nodded to you, excited and a tad nervous. He didn’t know what to expect as your hands trailed down his back, but them resting on his ass and pulling him in towards your spread legs was not on his mind. His erection perfectly hit your clothed opening, your thin pants not hiding the heat radiating off you. He gasped at the sensation, biting his lip and buried his head into your shoulder.

“How’s that?” You questioned, keeping your hands still.

“It felt good” he whispered, his voice cracking as if he should be ashamed.

“How about this?” You moved your hands to his hips, pushing him off you slightly and then bringing him back down, then helping him move his hips against your own. He was pliant under your touch, even though he was on top of you, and he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood trying not to moan.

“You can make noise, Spencer. I’d love to hear those pretty sounds” you whispered in his ear before gently biting the lobe.

He let out a broken whimper, face still hidden from your own. You removed your hands from his hips and his head shot up, eyes glassy,

“Why- why did you stop”

“You can do it, honey. Move against me, find what feels the best”. Your hands were on his face this time and you brought him down for more kissing and this time, when his hips bucked against you, he didn’t stop, repeating the motion again and again. You could feel yourself getting wet, his tentative motions causing delicious friction.

“Doing so good Spencer, so good for me. How do you feel, honey?”

Spencer whimpered, attaching his lips to your neck, trying to kiss you like you had him. He mumbled into your skin, “feels good”, and then you moved your hips up to meet his, and he ground down on you, gasping at the change in feeling.

“Just like that, Spencer. Let me hear you”.

Spencer continued grinding down on you, and when you let out a low moan, his erection finally hitting your clit, he did it again, and again. It took him a few tries, but he got into a rhythm, letting out small whimpers of your name as he chased the new sensation. He stopped kissing you, unable to do anything but grind, trying his hardest to not make too much noise, to make you feel good too. You, however, didn’t stop kissing him, your lips finding whatever bare patch of skin they could reach. When you bit down on the junction of his neck he moaned, then his hips stuttered, and he flushed a bright red.

“You’re allowed to make noise, pretty boy. I like hearing you, never want you to hide from me” you told him, moving your hands back down to his hips, encouraging him to restart his movements. Spencer looked at you, couldn’t see a trace of insincerity on your face and let out a small moan.

“It- it feels really good. I….”

You waited a few moments, “you what, honey?”

“….wanna orgasm” he murmured, his face so red that even the tips of his ears turned pink.

“Yeah? I want that too, come on, let me make you feel good”.

Spencer’s eyes turned glassy and he whined,

“I- I can’t. Help me… please?” He pleaded with you. He wanted you to teach him but he didn’t know what to do, had gotten in his head in the few seconds that he had stopped moving.

“Alright, sweetheart, c’m’ere” you said, flipping you both so he was under you. You moved to straddle him, still not looking down at the tent in his pants, and moved his hands to your hips, helping him guide you down to rub against his cock.

Spencer didn’t know why but having you on top of him was somehow infinitely better, and he couldn’t hold back his moan, his eyes squeezing shut. Your hips moved in practiced circles, your hands on his chest, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

You could feel Spencer’s cock twitch against you through the layers of fabric, could feel his thighs as they started to twitch. His mouth fell open in a continuous whimper, and his hands gripped your hips forcefully, as if that was the only thing grounding him. You didn’t stop your movements as you bent down to kiss him, moaning into his mouth.

The grip on your hips intensified and Spencer’s eyes opened, shooting you a panicked look.

“I-I’m so close” he squeaked out.

“Good, let it happen, let me make you cum, Spencer”.

You started moving your hips faster, and you watched in utter amazement as Spencer threw his head back, his mouth dropping open as a strangled whine of your name escaped him as he orgasmed beneath you. You slowed some, working him through it - shocked you could feel the wetness spreading from his cock, and only stopped when his bruising grip turned to pull you off of him. You lifted your hips, relieving the pressure but didn’t get off him completely, moving his hair off his face and smiling at him.

Spencer was sweating, his shirt sticking to his back and he knew his face would be as red as a tomato, as he panted underneath you. Now that it was over, he was embarrassed, for having an orgasm in his pants, and he timidly looked at you through his lashes. You waited for his heart rate to return to normal before checking in,

“How did that feel, honey?”

“….good”.

You frowned at his voice, worried when he wouldn’t keep eye contact with you. You moved off his lap, sitting on the edge of the couch cushion near his waist and stroked his arm.

“Hey, look at me, what’s the matter?”

Spencer heard you but didn’t know what to say, unsure why he was suddenly so upset with himself. He liked that you were still touching him though, wanted to lean his body into you. He didn’t verbally answer you, just nudged closer, curling his body around yours but making sure his dirty pants didn’t touch you.

You watched Spencer, concerned for this shift in behavior, and very glad you hadn’t agreed to just sleep with him immediately. You hadn’t put aftercare on the list you gave him, knew he’d have no idea what he would need. Deciding you would start with basics, you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m going to grab you some water. Do you want me to get you some clean clothes?” Your voice was so soft, your palm stroking his cheek and Spencer gave a small nod. He felt you get up, heard you move to his bedroom and back out. You were gone less than 2 minutes and if he wasn’t already blushing, you holding new underwear for him would have caused him to start.

“Do you wanna get up and clean up? Then we can do whatever you wanna do.”

Spencer continued to not answer verbally but took the garments from your hand, shuffling his feet to his bathroom. You wanted to follow him, to help him, but knew that wouldn’t be welcome yet. You heard him turn on water, and a few moments later he was shuffling back to the couch. He stood in front of you, eyes darting around the room so you took his hand in your own.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah” he barely whispered.

You pulled him close to you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He dropped his head to your shoulder and let you stroke his back. He wondered if you’d be willing to stay the night, to hold him while he slept. He yawned, tired from the orgasm and the emotions still rushing through him and he heard you chuckle.

“Let’s get you to bed, handsome.”

He didn’t follow when you turned to lead him to his room, gripping your wrist carefully, making you look at him.

“Will you stay with me?”

Spencer couldn’t remember why he was nervous to ask you when you shot him that brilliant smile, as if the question was an answered prayer.

“Of course. Do you want to watch TV and cuddle or go to bed and talk some?”

“Bed”.

“Alright, which side do you sleep on?” You asked while walking into his room. He pointed and you smiled again, “perfect, I sleep on the opposite!”

He smiled back at you now, watched as you pulled down the covers and climbed into his bed. He went to his side, lying down to face you and you didn’t hesitate to pull him closer, causing his head to rest on the crook of your neck. You played with his hair, a sensation he never knew he loved, and pressed kisses to the crown of his head. Hesitantly, he spoke up, his voice muffled by his position,

“…I’m sorry”

“For what, honey?”

“I- I… finished too soon, and I didn’t make you feel good”.

You moved away from him at this, and he frowned at the loss of warmth you’d provided.

“There is no too soon, not with this. You did exactly what I asked you to do and I am so proud of you, you did so well. And you did make me feel good, I loved doing that with you.”

Spencer knew you wouldn’t lie to him and couldn’t deny the relief he felt at your words. You realized you were going to have to praise him more if he wanted to continue, make sure he knew he was doing each step right. You moved to give him a sweet kiss, then pulled him back into you. Spencer wrapped his body around yours, throwing a leg over you and slinging an arm across your chest.

“I really am proud of you, Spencer. You did so good, honey”.

He smiled against you, murmured out a tiny thank you and yawned again. He wanted to talk to you, about his thoughts and feelings and about you, but he drifted off to sleep to the sound of your heartbeat instead.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

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man, 13 year old me is freaking out — she didn’t know alex x reader was a thing and i can’t get her to calm down

Will We Talk? | Part 1 |

Description: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 13.2k

A/N: Well hello there besties! Alex stannies your time has come again because I’m back and this short series is going to be soooo much fun! This was inspired by a harry fic I read many moons ago and I just knew I needed to do a grumpy Alex fic. I started writing this fic on the 15th of December 2021 so it’s been a long time coming. That being said part 2 isn’t yet finished (blame @nriacc lol) but I felt we all needed a new Alex ficccc! Big thank you to the author of the harry fic for the inspiration, and to @red—moon and @alovesreading for helping me/ keeping me inspired for this one. I would loveeee to know what you all think so please give me your reactions! Just keep an eye out for the time jumps, it goes back and forth quite a bit but I hope it makes sense. Thanks a million for reading, hope you enjoy x

| My Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 29th June 2018 ~*~*~*~

Just do it Y/N. Be polite, stop being a child.

Internally, you’re debating pretending that you don’t need another drink and to go back to Katie and Kelly without a new one so you don’t have to suffer what’s bound to be another awful encounter. Alex is standing at the busy bar with his drink in his hand, and you’d think that after 8 years of knowing someone you’d feel comfortable enough to have a chat with them at their best mates birthday party. But no. Not with Alex.

He might just be the grumpiest person you’ve ever met. He’d never once started a conversation with you, it’s always been you making the effort with him since the day you met him.

Truthfully, your tendency to talk a lot more than you should when you’re nervous probably hasn’t helped that. You’d seen interviews of him over the years and it’s clear that he really didn’t like talking to anyone who he wasn’t close to. And you’re not stupid, just because Katie is your best friend doesn’t mean that you’re someone he has to converse with.

Of course over the years you’d seen each other a lot but you’d only had a handful of conversations with him. Frighteningly few of those conversations were just between the two of you, and you were happy with things staying like that.

But this time you’re going to have to brave it. You’d promised Katie you’d grab her another drink along with getting yourself a new one.

Seguir leyendo

#vampire alex you will always have my heart #alex turner x reader

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

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“I’ll play house husband”

DO YOU WANT ME TO DROP TO MY KNEES AND PROPOSE RIGHT NOW??? 'CAUSE I'LL DO IT.

Yield (When Paths Cross Pt. IV, Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~2.9k words

Series Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Chapter Summary: The rest of that evening. Thighs, beds, and a few emotional admissions.

Chapter Warnings: its mostly porn. thigh riding, p in v, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, javi can pick you up off of his lap and set you back down on your feet because he is stronk, reader is needy asf, javi lacks impulse control. a very brief moment of angst but it resolves quickly.

If you're so inclined, please drop a like and a reply/reblog! I live for your feeback, and it keeps me going and keeps me writing. Did you like it? love it? hate it? I want to hear all of your thoughts!

PREVIOUS PART (III) HERE

Laredo was, as it turns out, a beautiful place.

You sit there in Javi’s arms for a good long while, his hands gently rubbing soothing circles along your skin. You can feel his breathing change behind you - suddenly it’s slowed, calmed in such a way you’d think he might be asleep if you didn’t know otherwise. You don’t talk, either: just enjoy the closeness and the vision of the great beyond overhead. You’re not sure if you’ve ever had such a tender, gentle moment with someone else. You certainly hadn’t had one that felt this good and this right.

He tugs your hips backward, tightly into his own, and you rest your back against his chest, letting your head drop back so it’s resting against the side of his own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it, muñeca?” You can’t help but to smile back in response because you can hear the double entendre in his words.

“Yeah, Javi. Beautiful.”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the urgency in Javi’s hands starts to increase. Gentle circles turn into possessive grasps and rough fingers press into your flesh with a neediness that you’re not yet entirely used to. His lips find the back of your neck and you bite back a small moan, eyes closing as you drop your head back to his shoulder. He pushes at your hips, then, shimmying you off of his lap so he can turn you around and set you back on one of his strong thighs.

“Javi?” You question. He just smirks back at you devilishly, with a twinkle in his eye that makes something bubble up in your abdomen. It’s probably lust.

He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and tugs you into a forceful kiss.

No, it’s definitely lust.

Javi’s lips are like velvet - soft, smooth, and supple in all the right ways. Hard, too, as he nips at your lower lip and then soothes it briefly with his tongue. Your hands travel up from where they were resting on his hips to press into his shoulders, then wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself tighter to him.

His hands are on your hips, gripping roughly as he starts to rock you back and forth on his leg. You’re surprised by his motions but you find that the friction is delightful. This time you don’t bother biting back the moan that threatens to spill past your lips - you just let it go, and he groans in response.

“Cariño, you make the prettiest noises for me. I want more of them.” You smile as you lean back slightly to take in his face, pupils blown out and mouth slightly ajar as he takes a few breaths.

“Only if you make me, guapo.” He chuckles and leans in, stealing another kiss from you before he’s gripping your hips again, pulling you back and forth along his leg.

“Want you to ride me, baby. Ride my thigh like a good girl, come on.” Sharply, you inhale. Like they have a mind of their own and they just want to obey, your hips start to rock on his thigh, finding more and more friction and pressure against your clit as you go. Even through so many layers of jeans and underwear, you can feel the heat of his skin, and his needy hands guiding you set your body alight.

“Fuck, Javi. Dirty boy.” You smile and sigh, dropping your forehead to his shoulder for a moment as you gather yourself. He keeps moving you across his thigh, urging you onward.

“Come on, baby. Just wanna see you cum for me like this.” You groan and inevitably acquiesce, melting into it as you start to rock your hips yourself, easily finding the perfect speed and pressure to send little jolts of electricity through your core with each movement. Your eyes close and you whine as you work yourself up on his thigh, pressing a bit tighter, moving a bit faster with every shift of your hips. Javi’s hands stay stationary there on your hips, begging you to continue as he looks down at you like his next meal. You pick your head up off of his shoulder and look at him, pupils blown wide with lust and mouth hanging open as you work yourself closer and closer to your completion.

“That’s it, muñeca. Be a good girl and cum for me, come on. I know you can do it, baby. Cum for me.” His words send a spark of electricity down your spine and that, combined with a few well-placed gyrations of your hips, sends you reeling and your world spinning. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train made of feathers - it feels like it’s going to crush you at first, but then when it hits it’s soft and gentle and easy in a way that has you melting back into his shoulder as his palms glide up your backside and pull you closer into him. He leans down and peppers kisses all over the side of your face and neck, nudging you until you pick your head up for him, heaving out your breaths. “Fucking hell, baby that was hot.”

You can feel a heat rise to your cheeks at his admission, and it makes it hard to hold his gaze as you fight the slight embarrassment you feel. “I mean it. So fucking sexy. Getting yourself off on my thigh like that? Mierda. Need to get you back to my room before I fuck you out here on the back porch.” You squirm a bit in his lap, unsure what to do with all of his praises. You’ve never been praised before… you’re not even sure how to take it. “C’mon, baby… tell me you’ll let me get inside that perfect little pussy of yours, hm? Please?”

The begging just about does you in for a second time, so you whine at him and lean in, hands clamoring at his neck as you pull him into a frantic kiss. “Yes, Javier… Fuck me.”

You’re just as desperate for it as he is at this point, every word he speaks to you getting straight to your head and therefore, straight to your core, too. He stands, picking you up off of his lap and setting you down on your feet in front of him. He leans in and bites at your lower lip one last time before he’s grasping your hand harshly and leading you back into the house, through the great room and down the hall, so that he can swiftly shut the door behind him and grab your hips. His lips are on yours again as he walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit his mattress and you fall to your behind, now sitting on it in front of him. He smirks down at you, licks his lips, and kneels overtop of you, arms tucking under your shoulders to shift you higher up on the bed. His strength astounds you any time he’s shown the hint of it, but when he uses it on you?

Just add it to the list of pros that come along with fucking Javier Peña.

You sigh as his lips find the edge of your jaw, tracing a path up to the shell of your ear until he’s close enough to whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, muñeca. Been waiting all damn week to have you again.” Your breath stutters for a moment before you can gather yourself enough to respond.

“Yeah? Didn’t realize I made that hefty of an impression.” He snorts back at you with a chuckle and nuzzles his nose right into the sensitive spot below your earlobe, lips finding a home there for a moment, as well.

“Best damn impression I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a lot.”As his hands wander along your body, you match them, pressing into ear touch, arching your back up to meet him, letting your own hands wander up under the hem of his shirt, pressing into his abs and muscular chest. “Think I’m gonna burst if I don’t have you right now.”

“Then have me.” You’re filled with a short spurt of confidence by his desperation, egged on by the delicious feeling of his length pressing into your hip through all of your clothing. He moves quickly then, responding in kind as he sits you up and tears off your top and bra, and then his. You watch for a moment, enamored by the display, before you’re standing up and shucking off your pants and underwear as quickly as you can. He follows suit, staring deeply into your eyes with a smile on his lips the entire time.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

You scramble to obey him, climbing up on the bed and laying down in the middle of it, one hand idly stroking along your stomach as you watch him reach into the night stand for a condom. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you lift your head, watching closely as he gets up onto the bed on his knees and crawls over you, pressing his body along the length of yours. Your breath hitches in your throat and your hands reach out for his hips, pulling him down onto you a little more.

“Someone’s eager, hm?” You nod your head yes to respond, unwilling to waste the brain cells on forming a coherent thought. He��s just too intoxicating this close. You need him.

“Please-” He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, nipping at your lip once more before he’s reaching down to palm at your breasts, lips biting and sucking on your skin as he works himself down your body, to just over your sternum. He moves lower still, pressing a kiss to your mound as he pushes your thighs apart and stares down at your pussy, just like the last time.

“So wet for me already, baby.” He kisses your clit, and then each side of your folds, and you reach down and fist your hands into his hair.

“No, wait Javi, please, not this time. Been waiting long enough. Just need you.” His head cants to one side in a questioning glare, but he silently agrees, kissing his way back up your body.

“And I need to make sure you’re ready for me, muñeca. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” You shake your head frantically in response, tugging him into a rough kiss.

“No, you won’t, Javi. I’m ready. Please. I’ll tell you if it's too much, I promise. Please.” He can’t help the grin at your needy begging, shifting himself back up onto his hands and knees as he reaches over the side of the bed for the condom wrapper, putting it on quickly before he lines himself up, knees pressed under your thighs, notching his head at your entrance.

“You sure, baby?” You nod frantically in response, hands clamoring for his biceps.

“Yes, Javi… come on.” Groaning, your legs drop open wider, hips pressing up into him. If you could take him yourself from this position, you absolutely would. You tug at his arms, urging him down to you. “Stop making me beg and just give me your cock already.”

He chuckles at the sassiness, obeying with a press of his hips that starts to fill you up from the outside in. You can feel the delicious stretch as he goes, rolling your pelvis forward to meet him as he moves.

“Fuuuuck, muñeca you’re so damn tight. Tight and wet. And all for me.” You pant lightly, the intensity of it all already getting to your head. Wrapping your arms around his midsection, you pull him against you as best you can from beneath him, clinging tightly to the backs of his shoulders. There’s an unspoken request between you as his gaze moves to yours and he starts finally moving his hips in slow gyrations. The friction between you two is glorious, building a heat between your bodies that has you both heaving out labored breaths in no time.

His fingers grip bruisingly into your ribcage, where he’s holding on for dear life as he fucks himself in and out of you. You can feel yourself drawing closer and closer to the edge as he moves, so your fingers find your clit quickly. He swats your hand away, sticking his thumb in his mouth for a moment before he replaces your fingers with it, stroking quick wet circles around your swollen clit.

“Javi… oh fuck. Javiiii-” With a few more well-placed thrusts that brush right across your g-spot and the expert touch to your clit with his thumb, your body thrums beneath him, plucking the strings of a glorious symphony between you two. You spill over into oblivion like the last one - slow, controlled, and warm - body quaking as he continues the onslaught of his hips.

“That’s it… love watching you cum. Mierda, you’re so fucking perfect…” his face screws up in concentration, hips stuttering as he grunts. His hands move to your hips, gripping tightly as he starts to drive himself into you wildly, chasing down his own release. “Fuck, fuck, fuck that’s it. Fuck how the fuck are you so— Shit!” He’s cumming with a shout, then, cock buried deep in your pussy as he finishes, body hanging limply overtop of yours. He takes a moment to catch his breath before his lips are on your chest, pressing kisses all over the exposed skin as he works his way back up to your lips. “Baby… you’re so fuckin’ perfect. I don’t fuckin’ get it. Are you a witch or something?”

You laugh loudly - too loud for being in Chucho’s house - and run your fingers through his sweaty mop of hair a few times. “Something like that, I think.”

He takes his time lavishing you with his affections before he pulls out and gets up to discard the condom and bring you back a glass of water. You sit up and take it gratefully, sipping at it slowly. He climbs back into the bed next to you, behind you almost, and wraps himself around your upper body and midsection, chin notching onto your shoulder and arms latching tightly around your middle. There’s a pleasant silence for a long while before you speak up.

“Javi?”

He hums. “Yes?”

You sigh slowly, turning your head toward him. “We’re, um… like… an exclusive thing, right? I know this all has moved fast, and I think we’re on the same page, but…” you trail off, unsure how to finish your thought. Javi lets out a heavy breath and turns his head to press a kiss to the top of yours.

“We’re on the same page, baby. Promise. Do I gotta ask you to go out with me like it’s the eighties?” You chuckle, nuzzling against his chest with a smile.

“No. I know. Just… needed to make sure.”

“Sweetheart… no one’s ever made me feel like you do. Ever. Not in Colombia, not here. It blows my mind that it’s only been a week. Feels like it coulda been a lifetime already.”

“Yeah, I know. Me too. It’s kind of… scary?”

“A little, yeah. But I’m more interested in seeing where it goes than letting myself get scared. I did enough of that in Colombia for a lifetime. For multiple lifetimes, honestly. I won’t live like that anymore.” You nod in agreement and tilt your head against his, eyes closing gently.

“I’d like to hear about it sometime. If you have any interest in sharing, that is.”

“About what? Colombia? Nothin’ good to tell.” You can feel his body tense behind you so you reach for his hands, lacing your fingers together.

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me anything, Javi. I’d love to hear about it, regardless of how dark it is, but you don’t owe me that. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” He nods, almost imperceptibly, and presses his chin heavier into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. I mean it. It’s okay.” You turn slightly so that you can see him better and pull him in for a slow kiss. “It’s okay,” you repeat. “Honestly.” He nods once again, more assured this time, and pulls you down into the bed with him so you can both lay down.

“You work in the morning?”

You shake your head yes and settle against his chest with ease. “Yeah. Late start. But I need to be out of here pretty early.”

“I’ll make you breakfast, and then I’ll drive you. I can pick you up after. Will you let me do that?”

“Javi… I’m more than capable of driving myself. And then my car would be here, in your way.” He sighs in response and presses his cheek against your head a little harder.

“Please? Let me spend a little extra time with you. I’ll play house husband for a day and cook dinner for when you get back and everything. Can’t let you go just yet. I’m not ready.” You smile wide and squeeze his midsection with the arm you have draped over him.

“Alright, alright. You drive a hard bargain. Okay. You can drive me.” If you could see it, you’d watch his smile grow into an infectious grin, eyes closing in a peaceful satiation for the time being.

“Good. Then I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, muñeca.”

“Night, Javi.”

~ ~ ~

Love all of you who are following along! Your interactions and comments and criticisms and all of it are so appreciated! xoxoxo

Taglist: @amyispxnk (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

NEXT PART (V) HERE

#javi broadbitch peña

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months

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a la cuenta de tres voy a llorar de amor

Roundabout (When Paths Cross, Pt III - Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~2.8k words

Chapter Summary: The next Sunday. Fluff, flan, and the great beyond.

Chapter Warnings: its all fluff anf plot, no porn this time, Javi being a needy demon, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

PREVIOUS PART (II) HERE

Javi does, in fact, meet you for lunch that week. Twice. And then dinner on Friday. He’s a perfect gentleman, picking you up from your apartment and driving you to the restaurant. He holds every door for you, makes sure you’re seated first, tells you he’s paying and that he wants you to order anything on the menu you’d like.

Normally, you’d take that kind of chivalry as a bit of an offense - some kind of lingering patriarchal worldview that you’d have absolutely no interest in - and yet, with Javi, you’re not opposed. In fact, you find that you genuinely enjoy it. Something about that shocks you even more than the way you jumped into his bed that first evening did, and even more than the warmth that blooms in your chest when he presses your knuckles to his lips. There’s just something about him, you think. Something you can’t quite put your finger on, but you already feel like you can’t live without.

Okay. It’s been a week. Get it together.

It feels like you’re in high school all over again, falling head over heels for anyone who showed an interest in you, no matter how bad they ended up being for you, or how much they annoyed you at first.

Yeah. You’re falling. Hard.

Fuck.

You’re getting ready to head over to Chucho’s for another Sunday meal when your phone rings. Picking it up, a beautiful baritone voice speaks into your ear that makes your knees a bit weak and a warmth bloom in your chest.

“Hola, Muñeca.” You sigh, like a lovestruck teenager, and move to sit down at the little armchair you keep in the corner of your room.

“Javier.” You can practically hear his smirk from the other side of the phone line, your own face graced with one to match.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

“Like I always do, every Sunday. Unless… you don’t want me to?” You’re suddenly struck with a pang of worry in your gut, fear that perhaps things were moving too fast, that you’ve assumed some kind of exclusivity that the two of you have never discussed. You hadn’t stopped to think about what this might do to alter your standing weekly dinners at the Peña ranch. Javi chuckles in your ear and you settle immediately, reassured in an instant.

“No, darlin’, of course I want you to be there. I just thought I’d ask if you want to stay again? Maybe with a bit more planning this time? Doesn’t have to be with me, if you don’t want. We’ve still got the guest bedroom made up.” You smile and sigh, once again affronted by this gentlemanly way he has about him. Somehow, it’s not what you were expecting from a man like him. You were expecting something gruffer, with unfinished edges. Something more… machismo, really. He throws you for a loop at every corner.

“Yeah, of course. I’d love to. Any excuse not to come back to my empty apartment is a more than welcome one.” You can hear a little chuckle come through the receiver and then a heavy breath.

“Good. Can I come pick you up?”

You scoff and respond quickly. “I can drive myself, Javi. You don’t need to go out of your way for me like that.”

“It’s not out of my way if it means I get to spend more time with you, muñeca.” Sighing, you stand, pinching the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you start to pull out whatever clothes and items you’ll need for an overnight stay.

“Really, Javi. I’m alright. But I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you soon, okay? I’ll be out of the house in like… half an hour, I think.”

He sighs lightly in the background but his words are laced with a touch of disappointment when he answers. “Hope you’re bringing some more of those pastelillos. Pops and I ate them all in less than 24 hours.”

“Ha! Of course you did. No pastelillos but something just as yummy, in my opinion.”

“Good. See you soon, then.” You pause your motions and smile softly to yourself, holding the phone once again.

“Yeah, See you soon. Bye, Javi.”

“Adios, muñeca.”

The receiver clicks off and you put down your phone, sighing dreamily as if you just stepped into a romance novel. He so successfully melted you by doing so little… it should really be more concerning to you, you think.

Hastily, you pack up your bag and head to the kitchen where your homemade flan is cooling in the fridge. Pulling it out, you flip it onto the dish and scoop out the remaining caramel, grabbing up a can of dulce de leche and stuffing it in your bag before wrapping up the flan carefully and tightly. You flit around the house for a few minutes, tidying things up and making sure everything was in its place, lights were off, and cleaning up the few dishes lingering in the kitchen sink properly.

Taking a moment to visually scan the apartment, you open the door, hands very full, and shut it behind you before deadbolting it shut.

~ ~ ~

With the way your mind has you lost on some daydreaming tangent that is no doubt Javier-infused, it's no surprise that it feels like you blink and suddenly you’re standing in front of Chucho’s front door. You still blink back at it for a while before raising your hand to knock and being greeted by the old man, himself.

“Mija, I’m so glad you made it. Oh, here - let me take something, yes?” He takes the flan out of your hands and heads into the kitchen with it as you let yourself into the house, closing the door behind you. “Javi’s just finishing up a few chores around the ranch. He’ll be back in soon, I’m sure.”

You smile at Chucho and take a seat at the dining table as he brings you over a glass of water, taking the chair next to you. “Okay. No problem. You know he’s not the only thing I came here to see, right?” Chucho shrugs, a smirk on his face as he leans over and squeezes one of your hands with his own.

“Well… given the way he’s been moving around the house over the course of the week, I think I might’ve been knocked out of first place already.” You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, looking down into your glass in slight embarrassment before he quickly continues. “I don’t mean to make you feel embarrassed about it, mija. I’m glad, actually. He’s been so much less mopey. Much more pleasant to be around.”

“You noticed that in a week?” You’re shocked, to say the least, thrown a bit by Chucho’s admission. You knew how much you felt for Javi already, but you were surprised to hear he might be feeling similarly, to put it lightly.

“I did. Doesn’t take very long when it’s the right person.” The warmth in your cheeks spreads and you look back down before he squeezes your hand once again. “Mija… look at me, please.” You do as he asks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I want you to be careful. He went through a lot down there. I won’t pretend to know the extent of it, but… I don’t want to see you hurt, either. Just… just be careful. Okay?”

Your brows scrunch together slightly and you nod, somber, but agreeing. “I will. I promise, Chucho.”

Naturally, it’s then that you hear the front door open and you turn in your chair to see one sweaty Javier Peña in his tight jeans and a pair of muddy cowboy boots, yanking them off and throwing them on the porch before he steps inside. He smiles at you immediately.

“Muñeca. Pops. ‘M gonna go shower. Be back out in no time.” He squeezes your shoulder on his way to his room and your eyes follow him down the hallway as Chucho speaks up to you again.

“You’re good for him, mija. I just hope he’s good for you, too.”

~ ~ ~

Dinner goes by relatively uneventfully. You spend some time recounting your weeks - Chucho talks about the ranch and the problematic bull he’s been fighting for some time now, Javi talks about some of the things he’s been tinkering with on the property, especially the fences he’s been fixing up. You give them the low-down on what work’s been like over the last week and you can tell that they both listen very intently, even if they’re not up to date on museum lingo. You do your best to explain as needed.

When you’ve all finished, Javi gathers up the plates and you follow him into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for your very precious flan. As you’re reaching forward, fingertips just grazing the plate, suddenly there are a pair of arms wrapped around your midsection and a set of lips attached to your neck. Your body shivers involuntarily and you squeak, surprised.

“Javi!” You almost shout, just barely holding it back into a whisper in time. “You could’ve made me drop the whole thing!” He chuckles in your ear and presses a kiss behind it. His voice is sultry, hushed whispers in your ear as he speaks.

“But I didn’t. Been waiting to get my hands on you all night, muñeca. Making me wait a whole week has been like a living nightmare.” You chuckle at his words and press back into his embrace as his lips drop to the junction of your shoulder and neck.

“Well you’ve gotta wait a little more, Javier. I am not risking Chucho turning over his shoulder and seeing anything.” You push him off of you and turn around to a dejected look on his face, like a kicked puppy dog. You roll your eyes at him and reach up to press a kiss on his cheek. “You’ll survive, I promise. Couple hours, tops.” He sighs back at you but acquiesces, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, muñeca.”

You walk the flan back out to the dining area, setting it on the table as Javi follows behind with a set of plates, forks, and serving implements. You dole out a portion to each of you and sit down with a hesitant smile, waiting to see what they think of it. Chucho’s face lights up with the first bite, a smile on his lips that warms your heart.

“This tastes much like my wife’s did, mija. It’s wonderful.”

You stop, tilting your head slightly at him as you study his expression closely. He’s never really talked about his wife before, at least not with any substance. You don’t know much about her, but you can certainly tell how much he loved her by the glimmer in his eyes at his admission.

“I’m glad you like it, Chucho. It’s always been one of my favorites.” Javi studies Chucho’s face similarly critically, and you think for a moment that you can see a twinkle in his eye that matches Chucho’s. If it didn’t feel overly intrusive, you’d consider asking them about her. You’d truly love to know, but it feels wrong. Like you’re sitting in on a moment that was never meant for you. You hold yourself, promising that you’ll bring it up sometime on a later date. Now isn’t the time.

Chucho eventually goes for seconds, as does Javi, and then you spend a few moments cleaning up from dessert. You’re standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes with care, when Chucho comes up to you and rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Mija, you know you don’t have to do those.”

“You tell me every time, Chucho. I always do them. It’s my pleasure.” He smiles at you and gives your shoulder a light squeeze.

“Alright. Well, I’m off to bed. This old man is tired, and I think the two of you could use some time without me lingering.” You stop, turning to him.

“You don’t have to do that. We’re fine. I’ve seen Javi, oh… four other times this week?” You laugh, but he just smiles back at you and nods.

“I know. Still. I’m off to bed.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he’s walking in the opposite direction toward the master bedroom. You shake your head in slight disbelief and turn back to the dishes.

A few minutes later, Javi is pulling up beside you with a rag, taking each dish from your hands and drying it before putting it away. Between the two of you, you get through it all rather quickly and in no time at all you’re drying your hands and turning around to Javi’s arms caging you in against the countertop edge. Your eyes go wide and you take in a sharp breath, suppressing what could have easily been a squeak, but you manage to keep it down.

“Hi,” You say, like a doofus.

“Hi.” Javi responds.

His smile grows impossibly wider then, as he shifts further into your space, wrapping your lips up with his own. You hum into the kiss automatically, hands lifting to find his hips and then the center of his lower back.

“Has it really only been a week?” He asks in between kisses. You sigh, closing your eyes softly as he works his mouth down the side of your neck. It feels like heaven on your skin.

“Yeah. Just a week. Feels like it's been ages longer than that, though.”

Javi pauses and chuckles for a moment. “Oh, good. It’s not just me, then?” You laugh lightly at him in response and lift your hands to either side of his face, pulling his face up to look him in the eyes.

“Definitely not.” He swoops in then to kiss you once again, a warmth blooming in your abdomen that feels like it's been settled there all week long. You do not understand how you’re falling so hard, so quickly, for this man. It’s unnerving.

Suddenly your world feels upside down for a moment as he leans down, picks you up to set you on the counter, and presses his body further into yours as his hips come forward to meet the edge of the countertop. His lips never leave yours, keeping you firmly connected to him as he moves you. You wrap your thighs around his hips, pressing your chest tightly into his, and you melt into the kiss.

It’s impossible not to.

When he pulls away, he has a starry look in his eyes that melts your heart into an even bigger puddle than it already is. One finger pushes a piece of your hair to the side, away from your face, and he offers you that big, dumb, lopsided grin of his.

“Before we get too carried away, there’s something I want to show you.”

You smile curiously at him and answer, “Oh, yeah?”

He nods and sets you down off of the counter for just a moment before he’s grabbing your hand and leading you toward the backdoor. Pulling you onto the porch before he shuts the door behind you both, he takes a seat on a small bench near the grill and pulls you into his lap, angling you so you can look up towards the sky.

“You probably don’t get this kind of view in the northeast, I don’t think. It’s one of the best things about Laredo.” You don’t really know what he’s talking about at first until you really take a moment to take in your surroundings. In front of you is the most brilliant sky - the night is clear, with no clouds to obstruct your vision, and you can make out every tiny pinpoint of light in the distance as you look out over the river into the endless sea of stars above you.

“Javi… this is- oh wow.” You’re in awe of it - you’ve never seen so many stars, taking up so much of the sky above you. You’ve never had the pleasure of looking out into the great expanse of the universe like this. It makes you feel infinitesimally small, almost meaningless, but then Javi’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist ground you back to him, back to this moment. Back to everything you’re feeling for him all at once.

The two of you sit there just like that for a very long while, wrapped up in the embrace and in the vision above you. You actually see a shooting star cross nearly from one side of your peripheral vision to the other, lacinand you lace your fingers into his, squeezing tightly as his other hand rubs soft circles into your thigh.

“What do you think, muñeca? Think you can see yourself staying in Laredo for a while?” You smile at his question and lean back into him a bit further.

“Yeah, I think I can.”

~ ~ ~

a/n - next part should be out sooner than this one! Already working on it! love yall so much.

NEXT PART (IV) HERE

#javi broadbitch peña

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