Hey Queen 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

so cuteeee

memory serves | s.reid

summary: in which spencer is keenly aware of all the little details. based on request from anon.

word count: > 600

tags: fluffy as fuck, smut adjacent, giggly reader, minor teasing, reader has freckles/birthmarks, spencer is a little shit

a/n: this one is a little self indulgent sorry not sorry. anon sorry this took 87 year i hope u like it <3

masterlist

Spencer has always been patient. 

Maybe too much so. He’s damn near obsessive sometimes. It never ceases to please you, even when it frustrates you. 

From your position, it’s like you can see him tick. His eyes are busy scanning every inch of exposed skin like it’s all new to him, although that’s far from the truth. You don’t understand his need to take his time and be patient. With your back against the sheets, legs carefully draped around his body as he stands over the edge of the bed, you’re not sure you could show him that you’re any more eager if you tried. 

His hands are somewhere under the hem of your shirt, trailing soft fingertips along your skin in a way that toes the line between welcome and teasing. Goosebumps rise in their wake, leaving you simultaneously shivering while burning up in need of something else. When you decide you’ve had enough, you grab onto his hand, tugging him down over you in hopes to move him along. 

“Eager,” he smiles. 

“Not eager,” you protest. “You just like to take your time. Maybe too much.”

“Lots to take in. Can’t miss any details.”

A slight giggle is stifled by another kiss to the corner of your mouth, which turns into two and then three trailing their way along your jaw. 

“Okay, eidetic memory. We get it,” you hum. “You can just take my shirt off.”

He laughs softly, more of a slight huff of air than anything. The feeling tickles your skin and makes you shift under his touch. 

“If my memory stands correctly, which it does, that means you have new freckles.” 

“You don’t memorize my freckles.”

When he pulls away this time, his face hovering mere centimeters above yours, it’s almost like he’s offended. 

“Of course I do.”

“Spencer,” you giggle. 

“I do,” he nods. The hand previously cupping your head slides up to your cheek instead. “These are permanent. But it’s summer, which means sun, and so these are all new.”

You scrunch your nose for a moment as you feel his thumb run across your cheek, first on one spot and then over another. Suddenly, it’s much harder to tease him when he’s being so sickeningly sweet.

“If you say so.”

“Ah,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t done. You also have freckles here–” another kiss to your jawline, “two here, actually–” a kiss to your shoulder, “and one here,” he places one final kiss over your stomach. 

“You missed a few.” 

“I was getting there. We could go into detail, but since you’re so impatient…” One hand tucks itself under your knee, drawing your leg upwards. “I’ll just remind you of my favorite.” 

Before you can respond, he places another kiss against the fabric of your jeans, right along your inner thigh, exactly over the birthmark that hides there. You can’t hide the way your cheeks flush from the attention.

“You’re so weird,” you smile. Your hands find their home back in his hair, guiding his return back to you.

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he replies. “I have freckles memorized that you don’t even know about.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm,” he nods. His hand makes its way back to your waist, softly guiding the fabric of your shirt up and out of his way. “I can finish pointing them all out to you, if that would make you happy.”

He waits for the witty remark, or the teasing comment. This time, though, you only pause for a moment and nod before tugging off your shirt the rest of the way, tossing it aside on the bed.

dividers by @esote-rika

Dream A Little Dream

Bf! Spencer Reid x Gf!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spencer comes home from work and finds you sleeping in bed and he’s completely mesmerized by you as you sleep.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: spencer likes watching you sleep (but not in a creepy way), fluffiest of the fluff, cuddling, talks about weird dreams and dream analysis, spencer is completely infatuated with you 🤭

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i got this idea bc i love love love cuddling fics with reid 🤭 i wish this man were real so bad :( anyways i hope you enjoy this hehe

“Honey, I’m home,” Spencer smiled gently to himself as he heard the words leave his mouth. He never imagined he’d ever say that out loud to anyone. But now he had you. It was as if he still couldn’t believe it every time he said it.

He’d called out to you but there had been no answer. Granted, it was three in the morning, he figured you were probably asleep by now.

Spencer softly closed the door and he placed his satchel down by the door and removed his converse off from his feet, placing them next to your shoes near the table they’d had near the door. He scrunches his nose as his mismatched socks (he’d opted for a light blue sock paired with a yellow sock with patterns on it) patter on the floor as he walks towards the kitchen.

By the evidence on the stove, you’d made chicken Alfredo pasta. A good chunk of the pasta is left on the stove — you most likely saved it for him because you worry about how skinny he is — and he smiles to himself. At least you ate.

He makes his way over to your guys’ shared bedroom and that’s when he sees it. You’re on the bed, sleeping soundly and bundled up under the covers but sprawled across the bed, holding his pillow, no less and wearing one of his old CalTech sweatshirts. On the bed is your laptop laid far away but not too far where it would fall off the bed. No, it looked like you were in the middle of work and decided to take a break and instead had fallen asleep.

Spencer leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and a warm smile as he watches you sleep. He’d often took advantage of the times where he’d come in from work late.

He liked watching you sleep. But not in a total creep kinda way, absolutely not. He more so liked seeing you so well-rested since you were always up on your feet, dealing with work and stress and never really taking a break from anything since you were so independent. It was one of the many things he liked about you. But in all seriousness, it might’ve been his favorite thing about you.

He adored the way your nose would scrunch while you slept and the way that you snored softly into the pillow. Sometimes, you’d even had a dribble of drool onto the pillow and he even found that cute. He’d found everything cute about you.

Eventually, he’d had enough of just looking at you and decided to join you. The first thing he’d done was remove and close your laptop and carefully place it on the dresser. He even opts to put it on the charger for you.

He begins slipping off his slacks along with his dress shirt and cardigan and puts on a gray t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms and quietly climbed into the covers next to you.

He carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly and you stir a bit and scrunch your nose up once more and open your eyes to see your boyfriend, smiling warmly at you.

“Hi, honey.” He whispers and you inhale deeply as you smile sleepily at him. “You’re home!” You cheer tiredly as you scoot closer to him, you head resting on his chest and inhaling his scent as you snuggle as close as you can to him.

“I am home,” He smiles as he holds you impossibly closer. He looks down at you as you keep your eyes closed and hold him as tight as you can. “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

You nod into his chest as you open your eyes and look up at him. “I’m perfect, now that you’re here.” Spencer smiles softly at you as you rest your head again on his chest.

“Were you in dreamland?” Spencer asks with a crooked smile.

There was an abundance of times where you’d dream strange dreams. Like one time you were being chased by a hot dog or the other time you were awake on a gurney while doctors performed open-heart surgery on you. Point of the matter was, you had weird dreams.

And you could brush those off as getting food poisoning from a hot dog and never eating them again or when you fell asleep watching Grey’s Anatomy but you always dug deeper into your dreams.

Like you being chased by a hot dog could meet something that’s entirely harmless is causing you stress or overwhelming you. Or the fact that maybe you had a fear or an anxiety of being awake while having open heart surgery. You were one of the few people in Spencer Reid’s life that read into your dreams. He wasn’t one to believe in dream analysis, but you did. And so he’d often asked what you dreamed about this time, since you had dreams like that so often.

“Mhm,” You smack your lips with a sigh and curled up impossibly deeper into his chest. “This time, I was flying without wings.” You said and he furrowed his brows with an amused smile on his face. “Flying without wings?”

You nod once more, “I was suddenly floating and all of a sudden, I was falling and right before I hit the ground, I woke up.” You told him and he thinks to himself at this.

“When you dream about falling and then suddenly wake up just before hitting the ground, it's usually due to a "hypnic jerk,"” Spencer tells, being the rambler he was. And you gladly listened every time. The first time you’d gone out with him, he kept apologizing about his rambles about whatever was on his mind. You assured him that you really didn’t mind, you loved listening to him talk.

“It’s an involuntary muscle contraction that happens when your body is transitioning between wakefulness and sleep, often interpreted by your brain as a sensation of falling, causing you to jolt awake.” Spencer tells and you shrug, “Yeah, it was something like that.”

Spencer smiles softly, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear as he rubs your back, back and forth with his hand. You drifted off for a moment before looking back up at him and he kept his eyes trained right on you. Like you were his only given vice, something worth living for and fighting for. To which, you were. To him, at least.

“How was work?” You asked and he turned away from you as he answers, “We can talk about it later.” Which was code for, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now but I mean it when I say we can talk about it later’. And when he was ready, he’d talk about with you. Eventually, he did.

“Right now, I just wanna stay here with you.” Spencer told and you smile into his chest, “I missed you.” You tell and he chuckles, “I missed you, too, sweet girl. And I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You snuggled with him, hiking your leg across his torso and holding onto him as you closed your eyes and your breathing evened once more. He smiles, looking down at you and not wanting to move a muscle to disrupt you. He probably wouldn’t get much sleep tonight since he’d be too busy staring at your sleeping features and silently thanking God you were in his life and that he could share these moments with you.

And in the morning, he’d tell you that he asked Hotch for a few days off in advance because he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. Your guys’ schedules always seemed to be opposites and the only time you’d ever really get together is in bed, like this. You deserved a few days to be with him and he you.

But for now, he’d let you sleep and veer off into dreamland again.

i can fix him (no really guys… i can)

i can fix him - spencer reid x fem!reader

reader makes it her entire life's purpose to restore the spark she's sure spencer reid used to have before prison turned him gray but it doesn't quite work out...

genre: angst with some smut wc: 1.3k warnings: post prison but no spoilers, grumpy x sunshine, sunshine!reader, age gap (reader is 25), lowkey enemies to lovers, spence chokes an unsub, sex used as manipulation, unprotected sex, teasing a/n: anon request!!! based on i can fix him (no really i can)

“He hasn’t been the same since he got out.”

The words rang delicately in the back of your busy brain like a constant dial tone. A conversation with Penelope brought forth a realization in you.

When you joined the BAU, replacing the youngest member with your fresh face and a childish desire to make the world a better place, you thought of Spencer Reid as untouchable. He was rational, scientific, gathering all of his beliefs from the articles he cherished. He was right, always. Every last syllable that left his chapped but plush lips was guaranteed to be the uttermost truth. Cited, sourced, and verified.

At first, it was irritating and unbearable. You couldn’t say one word without an infuriating, “actually,” following.

The fact that he practically ignored your existence didn’t help.

It wasn’t until an enlightening comment that your view changed.

“A day in a prison, how fun,” you had said.

Garcia, ever the one to gossip, had replied with, “yeah, poor Reid, I wonder if he’s going today.”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“You don’t know. Oh, you don’t know!”

Her eyebrows raised as her mouth gaped. But then she looked away, as if telling herself to keep quiet. “He should really be the one to tell you. Or Emily! Even–uh–okay, okay, I'll tell you!”

And so you sat, wide-eyed and shocked at the things she described so easily. All of it was bad. She had mentioned his mom and drugs which honestly left you confused.

Every time you looked at him, you saw the shadow of a man he has every right to be. You saw a heart that could grow three sizes if given reason.

You knew he wasn’t always this way. You could see it every time his eyes lit up when he was about to lay some new information on the team. Right before he was shut down.

Because nobody really cared about the guy who only has seventy-two items to his name (including his underwear).

You saw the way he looked at you.

With a longing–a pondering that you found yourself wanting to know its meaning.

The rest of the team communicated their impression with how wise you were despite your amount of acquired wax candles.

He never blinked.

You figured it had to do with his already large amount of knowledge. But it felt like more. Every time you contributed to a case with a smile that proved your pride, he stared at your profile almost like he could picture the day you would dwindle. And he never once allowed an UnSub to come near you.

It was like he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to protect your innocence or ruin it altogether.

Something that used to infuriate you now seemed so… insignificant.

It was wrong, you knew, to be feeling so sad for a grown man, but it came on its own. His random facts now intrigued you.

You were sure he picked up on the change in your demeanor. Because he changed too.

When you laughed at an unfunny joke, his lips would curl into this nervous but confused half-frown-half-smile that you were now determined to make last.

And so, with the knowledge that your very own laughter cracked his tough armor, you decided to take it further. You wanted him to be who he was before all the hurt. You knew you could bring back his spark if you tried hard enough.

An optimist at heart you were.

It started how it was destined to–with a convincing kiss.

Strategically, you asked for help with organizing your bookshelf. A few lingering glances and he was right where you wanted him.

Your lips met and you knew your plan would work.

Spencer was touch starved. The second you straddled him, he was yours.

All of him crumbled the first night he spent in your bed.

And then he never left your side.

Like a puppy, he followed you around and did everything you said.

It started with small things. You asked him to smile more, say “good morning” to Anderson, and remember that bad people will still be bad even if he stays the night at the BAU.

It worked too.

He was happier. He made jokes, he laughed, he did physics magic.

You trained him almost like a dog, praising him after every time he did something nice for someone else. Because–according to Garcia–he came to work and went home unlike how he used to be.

Since you, a younger, outgoing adult, forced yourself on him, he came out a bit.

O’Keefe’s was now familiar with him. Thanks to you, that is.

And, of course, an older man, you didn’t mind. Spencer was older, experienced. He made you feel grown. And you could fix him. You turned a cold, antisocial man into a silly, awkward man again.

But there were still setbacks.

For one, he allowed his anger to come through when he thought you were in danger.

There was a day where an UnSub was taking young girls who reminded him of his ex. You just so happened to resemble that ex perfectly.

When you cleared the bathroom, you forgot to check behind the shower curtain. A mistake you were sure had been made before quickly put you in the way of Spencer. His hand had wrapped around the guy’s throat so hard you thought he might actually kill him. Apprehending him against the hard tile wall, his eyes met yours in a silent scolding.

The EMT’s fingers brushed the wound on your forehead as she bandaged the cut. Spencer’s converse came into view but you didn’t look up.

Not until he spoke.

“Are you… okay?”

Two pairs of glass eyes met and you watched as his struggled not to dwell on the bandaid. “I’m fine,” you said.

But you resented how he couldn’t be the version of himself the world deserved.

For months, he’d been perfect, how come he couldn’t stay that way?

Your twenty-five-year-old brain wasn’t enough to fix the much older man in front of you. You thought that if he smelled enough strawberry lip gloss he’d change and become a boyfriend. Yet that change never happened. He didn’t seem as grumpy or isolated, sure, but it wasn’t enough for you.

You strived to fix him.

You remembered the first time you slept together.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, rolling his eyes.

You simply hummed, pressing another kiss to his jaw. “I was thinking… maybe… we could have some alone time? Just the two of us. Before O’Keefe’s?”

“I already told you I’m not going to the bar.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind? Be nice to a few people? I’ll make it worth your while…”

Another sloppy kiss to his neck.

“How about that?” you inquired softly.

No answer came, only a harsh kiss. His tongue parted your lips and his hands slid under your skirt. In a second, your panties were pushed over. His belt went to the floor.

You wasted absolutely no time in running yourself over him and sinking down immediately onto his length.

Spencer’s mouth dropped as he grabbed your ass. It burned every time he slammed into your cervix but you took it, because the look on his face was everything. Groans left him every time your hips met.

A quick, frenzied pace was set. It was pathetic how fast he unravelled.

Furrowed brows and a scrunched nose gave away how long he was going to last.

“Already close?” you teased.

“God–”

And he was coming inside you, messing your skirt effectively. But you couldn’t resist.

You felt him throb as your hips rose and fell slower. “Stop it,” he croaked.

Graciously, you nodded, pressing a sticky kiss to his lips. Your head found a resting place on his shoulder.

“O’Keefe’s?” you suggested after a few beats.

Of course, he agreed.

Because who was he to disagree with you?

Hello 👋,

I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and I’m reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. 😞

The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. 💔

Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. 🙏🕊

Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. ❤🍉

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🤍

Nice Car

S4! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: You’d always had a crush on Dr. Spencer Reid but you’re sure he’s never had eyes on you. But he takes you home after a night out with the team and you’re definitely proven wrong about him not having eyes on you.

Category: Smut

Warnings: reader has a crush on spencer and vice versa, mentions of a family annihilator case, mutual pining, drinking, reader is described as “bigger than most girls” *lowkey projecting here again 😬*, the girls are wingwomen - in jj, garcia and emily we trust 🙏, reader is tipsy but sobers up before they even leave the bar, kissing, smut warnings: car sex, a lil vanilla, straddling, dry humping(?), praise kink, riding, unprotected sex, creampie. (that should cover it)

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! i was watching “yellowjackets” and got inspired oops 🫢 i hope y’all like this one hehe it’s a quick one but oh well :)

You wanted to wind down after a big case you and the team had in Cincinnati. It was a family annihilator, who’d been murdering families of five. Their children age ranges from as young as three to as old as fourteen. It wasn’t easy, dealing with cases such as these ones.

At the end of the case, Rossi offered to pay for drinks tonight at O’Keefe’s. Once Emily and JJ said they were in, you nodded in agreement to come along and secretly hoping Spencer would come along tonight. And luckily, with some persuasion from Garcia and Morgan — he reluctantly agreed, to your wish.

It was no secret that you had a huge crush on Spencer. Everyone knew, except Spencer. But then again, he was oblivious to pretty much anything that had to do with the opposite sex.

So, on that note, you decided to dress for the night. Correction, Garcia decided you should dress for the night. She’d been the one encouraging this little crush you had on Spencer.

Often times, you thought she was saying stuff like ‘Oh, pretty boy was totally staring at you today’ or ‘He totally has a thing for you’ just to feed into your delusions. You weren’t sure dressing up was going to do anything.

Especially, since you didn’t really believed you fit into the “hot category”. And what you meant by that was that weren’t built like a supermodel. You were bigger than most girls you knew. Boys at school never looked at you, only really looking at friends of yours and only befriending you because of those friends. There were a lot of things you didn’t like about yourself. Your shoulders were too broad, your thighs too big, your boobs — more flabby than boob. You were your own biggest critic and to be honest, you weren’t sure if there was anyone out there who would love you for you. So, you figured that you’d be content fulfilling a life of loneliness if you were to never experience the love you believed you deserved.

But nonetheless, you dressed up. You were also dressing up for yourself, dressing for Spencer would’ve been a plus. But if you were going to look good tonight, you were doing it on your own terms and not at the expense of a boy. Or a man, since Spencer was definitely all man.

Garcia had helped you with your outfit. You wore a mini-velvet black dress with a bunched waist that fit your body and curves right and topped the outfit off with a leather jacket and converse — sorry, but you’d rather be comfortable than wearing six-inch heels that will break your ankles after taking one step.

JJ offered to drive you, Emily and Garcia to the O’Keefe’s tonight and you’d taken it with the intention of getting wasted and not wanting to drive back to your place while intoxicated.

The four of you met up with the men. Spencer had shown up, driving Morgan and Rossi and Hotch had hitched a ride with each other and Morgan whistled once he saw you. “Sheesh, Mama, you look hot.” He commented and your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Oh, this was just a little something I had in my closet but thank you, Morgan.”

Spencer had coughed a bit and Hotch pats his back to soothe him. “You okay, Reid?” He asks. Spencer nods, “Oh, yeah, wrong—” He clears his throat. “Wrong pipe.” He definitely wasn’t going to admit that he was staring at you in the dress and it made him choke on his water.

“Pretty boy’s just choked up because pretty girl here showed up in a little sexy dress, huh?” Morgan chuckles and you look down sheepishly, even pulling the ends of your dress down a bit.

You seated yourself next to Spencer and Emily for the night, drinking shot after shot with your colleagues, swapping stories and having a few laughs. You found yourself scooting impossibly closer to Spencer, even resting your head on his shoulders a couple of times as you talked about him endearingly to your other colleagues. You’d had about six shots before switching over to water to sober up a bit.

Eventually, you, Emily, JJ and Garcia had all gone to the bathroom, where the four of you did your own gossiping. “Oh, my God. Y/n, have you noticed how Spencer hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night?” Garcia asked as you checked your reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, stop.” You retort, washing your hands. “No, Penelope is totally right. He’s been staring at you since we got here.” JJ confirmed and Emily adds on, “And he definitely checked out your ass when we were coming here.”

You shake your head, “You guys are insane.” JJ raises her brows with a suggestion, “Hey, how about he gives you ride home tonight?” Penelope gasps and chimes in, “Yes, yes, yes! It’d be a perfect opportunity for you two to be alone together!” Emily then nods along with this plan, “Yeah and then we’ll take Morgan home so he won’t be a cockblock.”

You laugh at their jokes, at least you think they’re joking for the rest of the night. That is until Rossi pays off the tabs and everyone begins to leave. “Hey, why don’t we take you home, Morgan? It’s on the way and Spencer can take Y/n home since it’s not that far from him?”

You don’t catch as Garcia winks at Morgan to go along with it and Morgan nods in agreement, “Sounds like a plan. You don’t mind, Reid, do you?” Morgan asks and Spencer shrugs and he smiles at you, “No, not at all. Is that okay with you, Y/n?” You swear, you get butterflies from anything this man does. You shrug, “Fine by me.”

You exchange your goodbyes as the four of your colleagues wriggle their eyebrows at you and you swear, you’re so gonna get them back for this one day. Or maybe thank them, who knows?

Spencer walks you back to his vehicle, a Volvo Amazon P130, an old school car that seemed right for a man such as Dr. Spencer Reid himself. Spencer wastes no time as he opens your car door for you and then makes his way to the driver’s seat to start the car.

“Sorry about the car, it’s pretty old school. Morgan says I should get a new car.” Spencer sheepishly smiles at you but you shake your head, “It’s a nice car, though.” Spencer furrows his brows, “Really, you don’t think it’s a hunk of junk?”

“Hunk of junk, sure. But you never see cars like these anymore. Any facts you can share with me about the design?” You ask and Spencer’s eyes light up as he begins to explain — “The production years were from 1961 to 1970. The engine programme was originally supposed to follow that of the 4-door model. However, as the 2-door was somewhat lighter, it was also regarded as somewhat more sporty and was therefore used in competitions, both rally driving and motor racing. They’d presented two models, however technically speaking, there was no difference between the two models. The doors were naturally longer on the new 2-door model to make it easier to get into the rear seat and the front seats could, of course, be folded forwards for the same reason—”

You listened intently as he talked about the car and the models. Honestly, you weren’t exactly understanding what he was saying but you watched as he spoke. If his hands hadn’t been on the wheel, he definitely would’ve spoken with his hands like he did often. You loved listening to him talk. Especially when no one on the team seemed to give him the time of day like you would. If you weren’t obvious about your crush before, you staring at him while he talked would do it. You wouldn’t lie if you said you didn’t find his knowledge sexy, you did. It was hard to concentrate when someone as amazing as him was sharing facts about anything everything and it turned you on, if you were being honest.

“Hey, Spence?” You ask. “Yup?” Spencer looks your way for a split second. And you don’t know what makes you say the next thing you say, but it confuses Spencer. “Pull over.”

Spencer looks at you, a little longer now with furrowed brows. “Uh… what?”

“Pull over.” You repeat.

Spencer is confused but nonetheless does as you request, turning towards a vacant street and puts the car in park. “Are you okay? Do you feel like you’re gonna get sick?” You look at Spencer and you smile a bit, warm at the fact that he seems to be concerned for you. Instead, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn your body towards him and you hesitantly raise your hand towards his face and subconsciously, he leans into your touch.

He stares into your eyes, like he’s longed to do for so long. Spencer’s eyes take down and the poor man can’t help it, especially with the way you look in your dress tonight. The way it hugged your curves, filled out your breasts perfectly and the way it cupped your ass the way it was supposed to. He was no better than a twelve year-old boy.

And what could he say? Spencer had a crush. Since the day you walked into the BAU. He’d fallen deep and hard for you, how couldn’t he? You were an amazing person, with an incredible heart and a loving personality. And he’d always thought you were gorgeous. But the real issue was him. How could you love someone like him? He’d had so many issues of his own, not to mention he’d been told he looked like an earthworm and a pipe cleaner with eyes. His hair was getting long again, his ties were always perpetually crooked, he was weird. He wouldn’t blame you for not liking him. Hell, he wouldn’t like him.

But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

“Close your eyes.” You tell him and Spencer is hesitant on doing so but you encourage him to do so as you stare into his eyes and say — “Just trust me.”

Spencer gulps but nonetheless, he closes his eyes. He’d pretty much do anything for you. You lean closer to Spencer and you lick your lips, leaning your head forward and pray this goes well. You’d kissed a man before, it’s not like it was your first time, but this was Spencer. And this was different than the other boys you’d had crushes on in the past.

And you don’t know what’s persuading your newfound confidence, but what do next definitely confirms it for Spencer. Your lips latch onto his and you’re so focused on getting this kiss right, you don’t even realize that he seems to be kissing you back.

And you kiss him. You kiss him until breathing becomes a chore, you kiss him until you feel content with how you’ve kissed him, until he stops kissing you back.

You back up, looking him right in his eyes and you smile to yourself. You don’t really know what to say and you can see the shocked expression on his face and suddenly you’re regretting it. Oh, God, why did you just do that? You just totally ruined your friendship with Spencer and for what? For the expense of a kiss? A kiss he probably didn’t even want? You suddenly want to cower in a shell like a turtle.

“I— I’m sorry, I—” But before you can apologize properly, Spencer pulls you back in for another kiss, holding your face there he unbuckles his own seatbelt and you pull off your jacket in the process and climb on top of his lap in the car.

You don’t want to crush him with your weight so you hold yourself up on your knees on either side of his hips. “I take it you like me, too?” You ask him with a small smile. “Oh, I’m crazy about you.” Spencer admitted, making you blush a bit as he continues to kiss you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spencer stops and you put another kiss on pause and look him in the eyes. “Are you sure you’re sober… enough for this?” This man… At least he doesn’t want to take advantage of you, despite your primal need of wanting him to. “I am, Spencer. I swear. I was a little tipsy earlier, but my head is clear. I know what I’m doing.” You say with a serious tone. “But we can totally stop right here, if you want—”

Spencer denies your offer, pulling you in for another kiss. One kiss on your lips and he begins to kiss at your neck. You begin to rock forwards and Spencer holds your plush thighs on either side of him, pulling you into him so you ground down on him properly. He gasps as you whine at the friction and you stare into his eyes as you are quick to unbuckle his belt and pull out his cock.

“Wait, I don’t have a condom.” Spencer tells, almost pushing you away. “I’m on the pill.” You tell him. “But we can totally stop by a store and get one.” You suggest to him.

He considers this for a moment but he’s fantasized about this moment for a long time and every time he jerked off to the thought of you, he always imagined filling you. He actually imagined a lot of things that had to do with you.

“Would it be okay… if… we didn’t… use a condom?” Spencer asks shyly and you smirk, “That is definitely okay with me as long as it’s okay with you.” Spencer nods vehemently, “It’s definitely okay with me, too.”

So, you move your underwear to the side and straddle him. “I’ve… I’ve only done this one other time, so please bear with me.” You confess but Spencer doesn’t mind.

You settle yourself right down on his cock and gasp as he fills you, wrapping your arms around him and the seat behind him. “Oh, God!” He exclaims, calling you by your name.

You back up, looking down at him and his eyes are blown with lust and love. His hands rest on your thigh, running his hands over the smooth skin and one of his hands makes its’ way to your face and his thumb rubs underneath your eye, gazing into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” You shake your head at him, shyly but he doesn’t back down. “I mean it, Y/n. You’re beautiful. I’m not just saying this.”

You rock against him as you place your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. “You’re beautiful too, doc.” You admit to him and lean close to his earlobe. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“I feel like I should be saying that to you.” Spencer tells, wrapping his arms around your body. “And seeing you in this dress… Jesus. You’re gorgeous.”

“Stop saying that.” You tell him, wanting to spare the comments from your mind if this was nothing to him. “No, I won’t. Because you are, Y/n. I want… I want it all. I want everything with you. Will you let me give you that? Please.”

You have to admit, you like seeing this side of Spencer Reid. The side that’s begging to have everything with you. The sight of him beneath you. You hold him tightly as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“God, you feel so good.” You tell him and his hands are everywhere on you. “So do you.” He chokes out.

“Spencer…” You gasp, rolling your hips on him. “I-I love you.” He confesses. “Please let me love you.” You back up again, seeing that pleasing look on his face and you stare down at him. “I-I love you, too. I love you.” You say and you say it with such certainty. If there was anything you were certain of in this moment, it was this. It was him. It was always him.

“I’m—I’m getting close.” Spencer whines and his hands quickly make their way to under your dress and he begins to rub your bundle of nerves and you nearly shriek at the motion, wanting to close your thighs together but he keeps them apart, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him. “Jesus, oh, my God! Spencer!” You moan out and he stares into your eyes, “Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Please.”

You shudder against him as you feel his cock throb and he fills you with his cum and you collapse against him, not caring anymore if you were crushing him with your body. All that mattered was that you were with him, here and now. You both pant and you feel as he rubs your back with his hand and kisses your neck.

You run a hand through his hair and chuckle to yourself. “Spencer…” You sigh. “Yeah?”

“Never ever get a new car.” He keeps that promise.

hi. ily. 🫶🏼 you’re amazing, never forget that.

Ps. Spencer Reid loves you. 😉❤️

hi ilyt <333 and of course he does, he’s my bf duh 🤭

jensen is such a great dad :’)

the softest dad (◠‿◠✿)

i’m crying this is so soft 🥹

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader  Category: comfort, fluff Summary: Your insecurities hit you on the morning after, but Spencer's reassurances keep them at bay. Content: 1.4k words, implied intimacy, established but still new relationship, adult acne, insecure reader A/N: based on this request! Anon, you gave me free reign and I have to deal with adult acne, so I just projectile vomited that insecurity onto this reader. I hope it’s to your liking, feel free to request something else if not (and go ham on specificities so I can better write it for you!) not proofread oops.

It’s silly really. Insignificant. Half the time, nobody can even see. But right now, bathed in the soft light of the morning after, when consciousness begins to creep in your body, you realize that Spencer is right there in bed with you. His warmth registers first, melting away your anxieties of him somehow leaving in the morning. It’s another irrational thought—why on earth would your boyfriend leave you the morning after your first intimate time together? Yet it remains there, lingering like a coiled snake ready to strike, coaxed away by the confirmation that he stayed, he’s here, a large hand running up and down your spine. That’s what registers next, the fact that he’s awake. Before you. Lazily mapping out the expanse of your skin and suddenly, the anxiety returns, shoving past the momentary reprieve you’ve felt when you realized he’s here.

He’s here and awake before you. Touching you, mapping out the planes of your body like he did last night. 

Except this time, your bedroom is lit by the soft rays of the sun, exposing every single thing the darkness had previously concealed.

Every scar, every stretch mark, every imperfection on your body. It had been hidden last night by the dark and ignored by the pressing desire between you two. You had planned to wake up early, get showered and ready and out of bed—making breakfast preferably, to fend off suspicions as to why you’ve left the comfort of the bed. But it must have been his strong grip on you, or perhaps you were just too tired from the long night of lovemaking. Regardless, you’d overslept. And he’s awake before you, probably counting every single mark and flaw on your body as though they were demerits to who you are as a person. Each scar is one less point on the scale of desirability.

“Angel,” his breath ruffles the hair at your temple, “I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not.” coyness. Wit. You’d manage to secure him through a combination of this and your intelligence. Maybe it’ll be enough to distract him from the mars on your body.

He laughs, warm and languid from sleep, “I didn't know you sleep talk.”

“Mhm,” you hum into his shoulder, nuzzling into the space where it meets his neck. A small space, but it seems made just for you to tuck your head into, “Now you do. Is this a deal breaker?”

“I have to think about it,” he murmurs. He brushes his hand over your back once again, fingertips going over each bump of your spine as if he's trying to commit each bone of your body to memory. As fingers ghost over your skin, the blanket slips off even more and you inhale sharply. You don't think you reacted that much, but he notices anyway. He always does.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” You tug the blanket up again, a total contradiction to your answer.

He scoffs softly, tenderly, lips coming to rest on your temple. A teasing lilt in his voice when he says, “A little too late to be shy around me, don’t you think?”

You laugh, keeping the blanket stubbornly around you. Too terrified by what the light will reveal, from your body to his reaction.

“Sweetheart,” he coaxes you with slow fingers and soothing kisses, “Tell me what’s the problem. Do you regret last night?”

“No!” you look up at him with wide eyes, horrified he’d even think that way, “No, Spencer, of course not.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.”

He raises his brows in response, wordlessly telling you he doesn’t buy your bullshit at all. The expression he wears is patient, completely halcyon despite your childish attempts to duck through his questioning.

With a sigh, you relent. “It’s just—you’ll see all my scars.”

“You saw my scars last night.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

How do you say yours came from something so… mundane? Acne that you’d picked on so much that when they’ve healed, the  marks have become too deep and too stubborn to fade. His scars come from valor, injuries sustained from bullets and knife wounds as he works to save the world. Yours seems so insignificant, something that should have been erased quickly after puberty, left behind to be nothing but memories, just as you did with high school. 

But the acne never truly left, chasing you well into adulthood, and the compulsion to pick at them never stopped either. 

“You still with me?” he rubs his nose along your jaw like a kitten seeking warmth. 

You exhale a laugh, “Yeah…”

“I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you because you want to, sweetheart, but I’m not above tickling you to get an answer.”

God, not tickle torture. “Mean,” you chuckle again, relishing the way his curls twist around your fingers as you run your hands through them. This is Spencer, though, you’re safe. The words spill out in a rush, as if you’re hoping to expel them from your body in the fastest possible time, “I just have a lot of acne on my back, is all.” 

“Mhm?” he hums, patiently waiting for more.

“And it’s—it’s not pretty.”

A kiss to your jaw, down your neck.

“And I know I’m too old to still be having acne, but I do. And there’s a lot on my back and—” the words waver as another kiss lands on your throat. “Spence.”

“What?”

“Are you listening to me?”

He pulls away at that, eyes glinting like molten gold in the early morning sun. “Of course I am, angel. You shouldn’t be worried about acne, they don’t magically stop after puberty. Especially in women, where factors like genetics, diet, hormones, stress, and the menstrual cycle all contribute to how your body produces oil.”

You can’t help but laugh at his earnest reply; of course he’s turning to science to help you feel better. “You don’t think it’s gross?”

He scrunches his nose, “No, why on earth would I think that?”

“Well, some people conflate pimples with being dirty.”

“I just enumerated several other factors, none of which involve dirt,” he replies, ducking once again to leave kisses along your collar, “Admittedly, bacteria build up is another factor, but I’ve seen your toiletries, angel, I know you’re not dirty.”

“They’re just… annoying. I dunno. There’s so many scars.”

“Post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation is also normal,” Spencer murmurs, “Really, your body is just working as it should, angel.”

“But they’re not… pretty.” It sounds so vapid, admitting it like that, but Spencer only softens.

“Is that what matters?”

“No,” you pause, trying to articulate why this complicated relationship with those silly marks all over your body is making you so skittish around him, “I just don’t want you to look at me any different, I guess.”

He frowns, “Why would I look at you any different?”

“Because my body’s not… flawless.” you wince, realizing that it sounds almost like an accusation; you’re saying he’s shallow enough to be put off by something as insignificant as scars. However, Spencer merely chuckles.

“Nobody is flawless,” he counters simply, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “A few scars don’t take away from how intelligent you are. How funny and charming. How endlessly creative. It doesn’t take away your kindness, or your patience.” he kisses you with every word, slowly chipping away at your anxiety and the traitorous voice in your head.

“Stop it, you’re bad for my ego.”

“Better that than to tear it down.” he says, finally giving you the sweetest kiss on your lips, “I won’t force you to show me if you don’t want to, angel, but I hope you know they won’t ever change the way I feel about you.”

But after such tender words, how could you not? Despite the pounding in your chest, you turn around, the ultimate act of vulnerability. Trusting him not to hurt you as you look away. You feel his fingers ghosting over your back once again, tracing the scars. And then warm lips press upon your shoulder.

“You know what they remind me of?” he whispers, wrapping an arm over your waist. You’re drawn into his embrace, warm and snug and loved.

“What?”

“Constellations.”

You giggle, “Constellations?”

“Mhm,” he laughs as well, “Like your own personal star map.”

It’s silly, and maybe a little romanticized, but at this moment, they’re exactly the words you need.

thank you for reading! my requests are open <3

mya i love you… you’re the reason i got this app p.s it’s your favorite cardigan reader (i hope) sophie 😛

HEY GIRL!!!! i love you too sophie!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

Too Much, Pretty Boy?

Summary: Spencer discovers that he not only has mommy issues but that they run deeper than he previously thought. You discover that you don't mind it one bit.

Requested fic!! 🥳: hey can you do a story with sub!spencerreid and softdom!reader and spencer has a mommy kink? oh and he whines and loves to be praised!

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This is literally pure porn LMFAO whoops. Oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), overstimulation (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v (don't do this pls pls), creampie, crying during sex (Spencer is pathetic and we love him for it), praise kink, mommy!kink, very brief mention of a safeword but it isn't used, sub!spencer x softdom!reader my beloved :') (Also!! This is a reminder that the pictures used do NOT depict how reader looks at all!! <3)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: So sorry for the brief unplanned hiatus but I am back :') Thank you so much to the anon who requested this! I'm so nervous posting it but I hope you guys like it <3 As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all MWAH!!

Never in his life did Spencer ever see himself developing a mommy kink. It was something he never could grasp the appeal of, having spent way too much time with his head in different psychology books and swearing he didn’t fit the criteria of someone with “mommy issues” (though the only person he was fooling was himself). Then he met you.

You were so kind. So nurturing. You made him feel safe. Loved. Wanted.

The first time it happened came as a complete shock to both of you.

A rough day at work had led you to be a bit more… demanding with your sweet boyfriend. Instead of the slow, tender kisses you’d usually greet him with when he came by your place, you’d all but shoved him onto the couch in your haste to scramble into his lap, eager to feel his lips against yours after everything you’d dealt with that day.

The noise of surprise he’d squeaked against your lips only spurred you on, desperate to hear more of the sweet sounds he could make.

“Sweetheart—“ Spencer mumbled against your lips, a low whine rumbling in his chest as you ground your hips down against his growing erection. His head tipped back to rest against the back of the couch when your lips began to trail down the column of his throat, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against his skin. “W-what’s this all about?”

You pulled away from him, leaving only enough space between your bodies to yank your shirt over your head and toss it carelessly to the ground. “Rough day.” Was the only grumbled response he got before your greedy hands continued to rip off every piece of clothing in your way.

The two of you had had sex before, having been together for almost a year. It had always been sweet and gentle, almost a little awkward as Spencer learned how to be intimate with you. You always let Spencer choose the position so he’d feel more comfortable as he explored his newfound sexuality, and he almost always chose missionary.

That night, you rode him into the couch so hard you learned that not only did he whimper like the sweetest whore on the planet (the man would almost bite through his lip before to stay quiet because he thought his noises were embarrassing), but that you much more enjoyed watching his pretty little mouth hang open while he gazed up at you in an almost trance-like state instead of him burying his face in the crook of your shoulder.

His hands, usually timid and shaky, now roamed your body shamelessly as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, groping and squeezing anywhere that he could while whining pitifully. You could tell he was close by the way his body was trembling underneath you, and you were right there with him, clenching around his cock and murmuring into his ear about how good he was making you feel. His hips began to rut up helplessly into yours, triggering both of your orgasms as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass and—

“I-I’m cumming, ah—MOMMY!”

You cried out, your head falling to rest on his shoulder as you rolled your hips against his to draw out both of your climaxes. Once you’d slowed to a stop, you pulled away with a breathless grin, only to immediately frown upon seeing Spencer’s shocked and shameful expression. Then it processed what he’d just screamed as he came.

“Hey,” you cooed, caressing his face gently as his eyes began to water and he averted his gaze. “Spencer… look at me, baby. It’s okay.”

“No it isn’t!” Spencer exclaimed, trying to sink into the couch and away from you as he scrubbed his face with his hands. “I-I just called you mommy, a-and you probably think I’m some freak loser now—“

“I thought it was hot.”

That had stopped his panicked ranting dead in its tracks, his brows furrowing as he eyed you skeptically, searching for any signs of deceit. Finding none, his shoulders relaxed a little, and he let his hands find your waist again. “Really?” He asked meekly, his face flushed from both embarrassment and exertion.

“Really.”

That night sparked a lengthy, much-needed, and long-overdue conversation that inadvertently changed the entire dynamic of your sex life (in the best way possible).

Which led to where you two were currently.

“Like this, mommy?” Spencer murmured against your skin, crooking his fingers and thrusting them harder.

“Fuck, baby— yes, just like that—“ you crooned, tightening your grip in his hair as you writhe in his lap. “So good for me, Spence. Such a good boy. God—“

Spencer had come home agitated out of his mind after a long case, stressed and exhausted. All he wanted was for you to take care of him. To make him feel better and forget—at least momentarily—all of the gruesome things he’d had to witness for the past two weeks.

And when the words “Please… I don’t want to think anymore. Just tell me what to do. Make it go away…” slipped from his mouth, you knew you’d be cruel if you didn’t do exactly that.

His lips wrapped around your nipple, a muffled whine vibrating against your skin and causing your breath to hitch. Your knees wobbled from where you were hovering over his lap, riding his slender fingers like your life depended on it. Your impending climax sent ripples of pleasure up your spine and all the way down to your curling toes, causing your moans to grow in both volume and consistency as you panted above him.

“That’s it, baby,” you panted, interrupted by your own obscene moan as his fingers repeatedly brushed against the patch of nerves capable of rendering you brainless. “I’m so close— Fuck!”

All it took to send you toppling over the edge of ecstasy was a few swipes of his thumb over your clit. Spencer pulled away from your chest to watch as your face screwed up in pleasure, a sight that he’d never grow tired of seeing. Your pussy clenched hard around his fingers, the sensation making his cock twitch in his slacks.

Spencer stared in rapt fascination, his hips bucking instinctively under yours as he whimpered, working you through your orgasm until you were grasping his wrist and shoving it away despite his protests. A breathy laugh made its way from your lips at the sight of his frown.

“Be a good boy and be still for me, hm? Can you do that for mommy?”

Spencer stilled immediately, his lips parting as he nodded eagerly. Once he'd stopped squirming, you gently patted his cheek before lifting from his lap with shaky legs. You caught his tie between your fingers and tugged it, the force pulling him from the couch with a soft, almost imperceptible whimper. Smirking, you led him toward the bedroom, the fabric of his tie taut in your grip.

The door opened with a creak, sending a pang of anticipation racing through Spencer's veins as he trailed behind you. His eyes followed you as you let go of his tie, turning to sit on the edge of the bed and motioning to the ground in front of you with a flick of your wrist. He sank to his knees between your spread legs, nuzzling into your touch when your fingers card through his hair.

"You're being so good," you murmured, a soft smile curling on your lips as you gazed down at him. "My pretty boy." Your hand slid from his hair to gently cup his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone as you drank him in.

“Always wanna be good for you,” Spencer murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he turned his head to press his face into your inner thigh.

Your eyebrows raised as you chuckled, using your finger to tilt his chin up so he was facing you again. “Yeah?” You crooned, swiping your thumb along his bottom lip. “Show me just how good you can be then.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

The second he was given permission, his mouth was on you. Spencer was ravenous, licking into you as though he’d never experienced your taste before. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping them pried apart as his tongue circled your clit.

“God, you’re so good for me—Spence!”

The vibrations from his needy moans only added to your pleasure, his grip on your thighs the only thing keeping you anchored as he devoured you. He shifted slightly, just enough so that his nose brushed against your clit as he began to thrust his tongue inside of you.

Spencer lived for the praise that he could coax from your precious lips. Nothing was more rewarding than hearing your encouraging words, soft and full of warmth, urging him on.

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him against you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you. Your thighs trembled in his hold, and your mouth parted in a silent moan as your eyes squeezed shut. Spencer groaned into you, unrelenting in his ministrations as you fell apart, addicted to your taste and the way you moaned his name.

"Baby—"

"One more," he begged against your slick skin. "Please, mommy? You taste so good."

As tempting as it was, you shook your head and gently pulled him away, ignoring his soft protests. Your gaze flicked to his pout, and you raised an eyebrow before motioning for him to lie on the bed. "Really, Spencer?" you asked as you straddled him, your tone teasing but stern. "Are you going to complain? Because we can stop right here, and you can handle your problem alone. Is that what you want?"

Spencer shook his head frantically, a panicked look crossing his face at the thought of stopping. "No! Please, mommy, I'm sorry," he whimpered, looking particularly pathetic underneath you while he pleaded his case. "I'll be good, I swear—"

A high-pitched whine spilled from his lips as you spit into your hand before shuffling down his body, wrapping your hand around his neglected cock. "That's it," you cooed, stroking him in small, teasing motions. "There's my good boy." His hips bucked instinctively into your touch, causing you to pause while you shot a warning glance his way. "Are you going to be still and take what mommy gives you? Or am I going to have to stop?"

"I'll be still!" Spencer cried out, looking down at you with tears in his eyes. "I-I'll be still, please!"

A smirk tugged at your lips before you bent down to press a kiss to his flushed head in response. Your hand began to move again, his pre-cum mixing with your spit creating a lewd slick sound as your pace slowly increased. The hushed whines and moans slipping from Spencer's lips filled the room, and the sight of his nails digging into the sheets to keep himself from moving sent a sharp pang of warmth through you.

Your eyes remained on his face, admiring the relaxed drop of his jaw and the deep flush staining his cheeks. You knew he was close when his moans began to increase in volume and pitch, his chest heaving as his body began to tremble. Shifting forward, your mouth finds his while your hand continues its movements. "That's it, baby," you murmur against his lips, grinning at the whimper he lets out. "Cum for me, sweetheart."

Spencer groaned into your mouth, releasing his grip on the sheets to knead desperately at your breasts. That was all it took for him to gasp against your lips, a low keening sound bubbling in his throat as he spilled over your hand and his tummy. You broke the kiss to watch his face, your hand working him through his climax.

"O-oh—"

Spencer writhed as you continued stroking him slowly, using his cum as lube to aid your movements. His eyes were half-lidded, filled with a mix of confusion and desperation as he looked up at you, but you didn’t stop. His hands fell back to the bed, twitching as you increase your pace once more.

"Shh, sweet boy," you chuckled as he began to whimper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're okay. You can take it, can't you?"

A pathetic whine left his lips as he nodded. A tear slipped down his cheek from the overstimulation, leaving a shiny streak behind on his rosy cheeks. You and Spencer knew that he'd use the safeword if it were too much. But this is exactly what he wanted when he'd come home. He thrived on how you could turn him into nothing more than a tangled mess of limp limbs and tear-filled eyes, drowning in a pleasure so intense it erased every thought except you.

When his moans began to reach noise-complaint decibels, you clamped your free hand over his mouth to muffle them. “I know, baby. I know,” you murmured as he began to cry in earnest now, so overwhelmed with pleasure he couldn’t see straight. “You sound so pretty for me. But I can’t have you waking the neighbors, sweetheart.”

Spencer was close, his body thrashing underneath you as you continued your delicious torture on his sensitive cock. His brows were drawn together, glazed-over eyes locked on your face and kiss-swollen lips parted. He was so devastatingly beautiful like this—wrecked and desperate for release.

When you felt the tell-tale twitching signaling his impending release, an idea came to mind. With one final pump, you release your hold on him, hurriedly straddling his lap and sinking onto him before he can complain.

His eyes widen to an almost comical level before they roll back in his head. His hands fly up to grip your hips, a muffled shout of "Mommy!" against your palm being the only warning you get before his hips rut into you frantically. Seconds later, he's cumming so hard his vision whites out behind his eyelids and his ears ring.

"Good boy, Spence," you breathe, slowing your hips to a stop and petting his hair away from his forehead while he sobs. "You did so good, baby. So, so good." Easing off of him, you caress his cheek, pressing a tender kiss to his lips before leaving the room.

Spencer lays trembling in the bed, too weak to protest. His eyes remain closed, his chest heaving with each breath he sucks in. He’s unsure how much time has passed when a warm washcloth glides over his skin. He hums in response, and you know it's the closest thing to a thank you he can offer right now.

After he's cleaned up, you slide back into bed beside him, drawing him close. "Get some rest, sweetheart. I'll wake you for dinner," you murmur, your nails softly tracing patterns on his warm skin to lull him into sleep.

Only then does exhaustion fully claim him, a barely audible "I love you" slipping from his lips before he drifts into sleep, reassured that no matter how harsh and unforgiving his career may be, you’ll always be there to make everything okay.

Continued A/N's: AHHHH!!!! I've never written for a mommy kink before so I hope I did it justice LMAO! Again, thank you to the anon who requested this, it really helped me step out of my comfort zone and I loved that. <3 Reminder that my requests are still open btw ;)

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.