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His lips brush against your ear as his hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the other slipping further into your panties. Your breath hitches as he slides another finger inside your entrance, letting your body mold against his in the small space.

Out of all the places he could’ve done this— you never expected the jet bathroom.

But even Dr. Spencer ‘kissing is more sanitary than shaking hands’ Reid could only resist your teasing for so long.

It had started earlier that morning while you were still at the precinct. Subtle brushes of your fingertips against his back as he worked on his geological profile, his eyes continuously finding yours through the plexiglass screen. You found any opportunity to invade his space, your perfume overwhelming his senses. But that wasn’t enough for you.

Once the rest of the team had left to chase down a possible lead, you made your move. Purposefully leaning over the desk across from him as he went through the case file again. Your eyes sparkled in amusement as his adam’s apple bobbed, hazel eyes locked on where your blouse was undone. The lace of your push up bra just barely peeking out.

You were driving him insane.

But this was your way of getting him back, after having to watch the lead detective on this case blatantly flirt with him. She batted her doe eyes at him, volunteered to help him any chance she could. It was embarrassing really, how much she threw herself at him. But you couldn’t help but feel that surge of jealousy clawing at your throat.

Because to anyone else, he was free game.

You had been sneaking around together for well over a month, after a mishap on a previous case. The hotel had mistakenly booked you a single bed room, and there were no other rooms available. And none of your team was willing to switch. “He snores too much,” Morgan had all but insisted.

While Spencer was adamant he would sleep on the floor, or the chair in the corner, you wouldn’t allow it.

After two nights of unbearable sexual tension it was him who finally snapped, after you crawled into bed in a pair of sleep shorts that barely covered your ass. His body melted into yours as he kissed you, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. He rolled your body beneath him, your fingers lacing together as he buried himself inside you.

The chemistry between you was always there, but neither of you were quite willing to cross that line of professionalism and friendship until that night. But now that you had a taste of him, you were downright insatiable.

You could barely keep your hands off of each other, in private and in public. Which for someone as non touchy as Spencer Reid… people quickly began to notice. Regardless, you both tried to keep it a secret from your team, knowing agents in the same unit weren't allowed to fraternize.

But that didn’t stop you from pulling him into an empty office for a quickie at Quantico, or him sneaking into your hotel room while on a case. Your relationship was becoming harder and harder to hide from everyone, but this might have been your final straw.

The case had wrapped up later that evening, the unsub was caught and you were beyond relieved when you left the station and that detective behind. But that relief soon bleed into irritation as Morgan plopped down across from you and Spencer on the jet. A megawatt smile was stretched across his face as he slid one earbud out of his ear.

“So kid, heard you landed Detective Reynold’s digits,” he chuckles.

Spencer can feel the way you tense up, but you keep your gaze focused on the case file in front of you. Feigning disinterest in their conversation, but your boyfriend knows better.

“Uh, I did. But I politely declined.”

Derek’s scoff has you nearly rolling your eyes, gripping your pen tighter in between your fingers as you tap it on the table.

“Now why is that, pretty boy? Got some secret girlfriend that we don’t know about?”

Spencer groans, running a hand through his tousled hair. What you don’t notice is the way Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously.

“No— she’s just not my type,” he sighs.

“A beautiful woman isn’t your type?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, closing the case file with a little more force than necessary. Both males turn to look at you now, unable to hide your irritation anymore.

“I have a killer migraine so if the two of you could shut it for the next hour that would be wonderful,” you huff.

Before either of them have time to reply you lean your head back against the seat and close your eyes. Finding yourself holding back a grin as Emily echoes your sentiment. The jet settles into a comfortable silence then, the lights dimming in the cabin.

When you dare to peek your eyes open Morgan has already moved back to his original seat, leaving you and Spencer alone again. You had felt his eyes on you long before you met his gaze, his dark hues boring into yours with an intensity that has your stomach fluttering.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whisper under your breath, letting your eyes drop to your lap.

“Like what?” He answers tensely.

“You know what, Spence.”

You shift in your chair, thighs pressing together as you cross your legs. Now was not the time. Not in the jet with your nosy coworkers surrounding you. As much as you’d love to climb into his lap and muss up his hair more, that would be far too risky.

So you both remained silent for a while, but the air between you was taut with tension. Just waiting for one of you to break it, but you refused to let it be you. As much as you reassured yourself that Spencer rejected that woman’s advances, it was still hard for you to watch.

Spencer must have seen that flash of hurt pass over your features, and he is unable to hold back anymore as he leans further into your space.

“Bathroom,” you feel his lips at your ear then, a shiver passing through you as he speaks. “Right now.”

From the authoritative lithe in his tone you know not to disobey him, carefully rising from your seat to head to the small bathroom. The rest of your team look as though they are asleep when you pass them, a sense of relief floods as you gently shut the door behind you.

You lean your palms against the countertop, glancing at yourself in the mirror. It’s a few minutes before you hear the door click open, and your eyes fall as you feel the heat of his body behind yours.

You both don’t utter a word as he cages you in, his forearms grazing your own. The veins in his hands protrude as he grips the edge of the counter and his chin rests on your shoulder.

“So,” he hums, his breath tickling your neck. “Someone’s feeling a little jealous?”

You scoff, finally meeting his brooding gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

“I am not jealous.”

Spencer just chuckles, one of his large hands splaying over the curve of your hip.

“You sound a little defensive, agent. You wouldn’t be lying to me now, would you?”

The dark edge to his voice has your body tingling and your heart hammering against your ribs.

“N-No.”

He tsks softly, his hands wandering toward the edge of your pencil skirt.

“And to think, I was going to reward you, despite your incessant teasing earlier.”

The feeling of his rough palm on the inside of your thigh breaks your resolve, body melting against him as you whine.

“No, Spence— please.”

He grips the hem of your skirt, slowly hitching it up your thighs.

“You know that’s not my name, angel,” he taunts as his teeth graze over your earlobe.

“Please, Doctor.”

You quickly correct yourself, which earns you a deep groan, “Good girl.”

Spencer wastes no time in tugging your skirt the rest of the way up your legs. His large hand cupping your cunt through the soaked lace of your panties. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, quickly shushing you as you mewl pathetically in response.

But once his fingers have slipped past the lace and are buried to the hilt inside you, you are unable to hold back your pleasured whimpers. His other hand quickly moves to cover your mouth, but his hushed words only aid in turning you on more.

The thought of one of your colleagues catching you both in this position sends an excited jolt through your body, your walls tightening harder around his dexterous fingers. Spencer groans at the sensation, letting his thumb brush over your swollen clit.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He chuckles, “You want them to hear us?”

You nod your head, grinding your hips back against his to feel his hardened length straining against the fabric of his slacks. Spencer curses under his breath, meeting your half lidded gaze in the reflection before he’s yanking your panties down your thighs.

He removes his hand from your mouth and the clink of his belt sends another rush of heat through you. Spencer eagerly guides your legs apart, before bending you over the sink.

“Then let them,” he mutters as he guides the tip of his cock through your drenched folds, and sinks into your warm heat with a strangled grunt.

A gasp leaves your own as he bottoms out completely, your head lolling forward at the sheer fullness. But your boyfriend doesn’t let that slide for long as his strong hand coaxes your chin up to meet his hazel eyes in the mirror.

“Eyes on me.” Spencer instructs, guiding his hips back and plunging them forward.

His thrusts are fast and sharp, nearly knocking the wind out of you from his urgency. You grip the counter harshly, willing your eyes not to roll in the back of your head as you whimper. Spencer’s lips are back at your ear again, his ever darkening hues never once stray from your own.

“Look how pretty you are, baby… how well you take me,” he groans, gripping your hips tighter.

You’re far too gone to answer him, managing a small whine as you angle your hips back to take him even deeper. His hand drifts lower, over the bunched fabric of your skirt to circle over your clit. Soft mewls continue to spill past your lips as he buries himself inside you, hurtling you faster towards that precipice.

“As if I could ever want anyone else.”

That admission is spoken under his breath and although Spencer didn’t intend for you to hear it, you certainly did. But those words are your undoing, your body trembling in his strong hands as you lose yourself in him. The feeling of your cunt fluttering around him breaks what is left of his composure, spilling into you as you cry out his name.

You both are silent as you come back down to earth, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the small space. His hands are gentle as he pulls you further into his chest, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“Feeling better?”

You giggle softly, “Much.”

You catch a glimpse of his smirk in the mirror as he slips out of you to tuck himself back into his slacks. The brunette quickly drops to his knees before you have a chance to protest, letting his fingertips glide along your skin. Spencer smiles sheepishly as he guides your panties back up your legs, peppering gentle kisses along your inner thighs.

You can feel his cum beginning to soak into the already damp fabric as he helps you adjust your skirt, pressing one last kiss to your clothed hip before he rises to his feet.

“Think you can manage getting back to your seat without my help?” He teases, clearly noticing the way your legs were still shaking as he helped you re-dress.

“I can manage fine, Doctor Reid.”

You can see the flash in his eyes when you call him by his title again, a wicked smile on your lips when you lean up to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

You exit the bathroom without another word, getting comfortable in your seat. It’s a few minutes later before Spencer returns to his seat beside you, in an attempt to not raise any suspicion. The seatbelt sign clicks on once he takes his seat, signaling the beginning descent to Quantico.

He pulls a novel out of his satchel as you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your eyelids starting to droop.

“Pay up, Morgan.”

Emily’s hushed voice cuts through the silence not long after you’d both taken your seats again. You feel Spencer stiffen beside you, his fingers freezing on the open page of his novel.

“Damn, couldn’t keep it in your pants for twenty more minutes, pretty boy?” The male grumbles, getting up to toss a couple twenties in Emily’s direction.

She grins widely, waving them around before tucking them in the pocket of her dress pants.

“So you’re betting on us now?” you ask, unable to hide the exasperation in your voice.

“Oh, we’ve been betting on you the second you both started sneaking around,” Rossi’s voice sounds from behind you, amusement littering his tone.

“You two aren’t subtle.”

"Neither have I, so drop that look on your face." you sat up, setting your own book aside. Spencer was sat across the room on his favourite seat in the living room, you had both been doing your nightly reading routine.

"Okay, okay. So, what is it?" he leaned forward.

"Well, I was reading something and... I want to try something out." you shrug, looking around the room, at the floor, anywhere but him.

"Oh, God." he drags a hand down his face. "I love that you read, really I do, it's one of the things I love about you, but do you have to read these..." he looked around trying to find a word. "Disturbing books?"

"Disturbing?" you scoffed. "Some of your favourite things I do come from these "disturbing" books." you give him a look.

"You do bring up a good point." he nods to himself and sits up, walking towards you. "Fine. What is it you want to try?" he asks when he's right in front of you.

You look up, he's so tall you have to lean back, and suddenly feel shy.

"Well..." you bite your lip.

"Oh, come on now, you can't get all shy now." he teases, leaning down and resting his hands on your armchairs, caging you in.

"Read this." you reach for your book, pressing yourself against him, knowing it drives him wild.

He reaches for the open book in your hand. "The whole book or just the chapter?" he asks.

"Oh, right. Well I was just gonna say the page but the book is fine too." you laugh.

He makes his way back to his favourite chair and this time you follow him, perching yourself on his armrest. You look over his shoulder as he quickly reads through your book; you're not sure why you do this because he's too quick for you to understand anything but you do it either way.

Even though you can't see his full face, you see the side of his face as his eyes widen in shock. He gasps, raises his brows, lowers them, laughs, smiles, smirks. You watch as all the emotions pass through his face.

He finally closes the book. He opens his mouths, furrows his brows, and then closes it, relaxing his face. Spencer places the book on his lap and turns to face you.

"Alright." he says, standing up.

"Alright?" you repeat, you weren't sure what you were expecting but he agreed way too fast. He's standing in front of you now, you're looking up at him, blinking stupidly at his expression.

You can tell he's trying to hide a grin. Is he liking how flustered you are? You expected him to act how you're acting; blushing, shy, not sure what to say.

Spencer reaches his hand out and you take it. He pulls you up and you squeal, landing in his arms. His expression is much more serious now, he looks into your eyes and then flickers his gaze down to your lips. You stick your tongue out to wet your lips and Spencer chooses that moment to kiss you. Its slow at first, just like his hands that wrap around you.

Then, its fast and harsh. One hand is on the back of you head, gripping you close to him. His other hand is on your thigh, inviting you to jump up. You do so and wrap your legs around his waist.

You groan into the kiss, all shyness long gone, probably kissed out of you by Spencer. He's making his way to the bedroom now but right before entering, he presses you against the wall of the hallway, holding you up with his knee.

You grind against him, pulling away from the kiss to look into his eyes. They're hungry now, pupils blown wide. He kisses your neck, surely feeling how rapidly your heart is beating. You moan his name and run your fingers through his hair, well aware how it drives him crazy.

"You want me to fuck you?" he suddenly whispers.

He's never said anything like that before. "Yes." you reply, your eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure as he makes his way further south.

"You're so pretty." he palms your breasts, reaching for your collar before ripping it open in one quick movement.

You gasp.

"You like that?" he asks, looking at your exposed breasts.

You nodded quickly.

"Use your words, darling." he glances up at you, looking at you through his lashes.

You swallow, feeling a knot form in your throat. You like this new Spencer. "Yes." you stumble over your words, blood rushing into your cheeks.

"Good." he pushes off the wall and takes you into bedroom where, instead of setting you down on the bed, he puts you on your dresser.

He sets you down and takes a step back. You whine, wanting - no, needing - him back. His lips, his hands, his warmth. You reach out for him but he tuts, shaking his head.

"I just want to look at my pretty princess." he takes a step towards you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "You look so beautiful." his long fingers reach for your ripped shirt, brushing it aside.

His fingers glide over your skin and you arch your back, pushing your chest out.

"Mmm, if you insist." he licks your left breast and rips your shirt even more. It's completely ripped in half now. He pushes it off of your shoulder and reaches behind you to take off your bra with one hand.

"So pretty." he repeats, more to himself than to you.

Your breasts are right in front of him, nipples hard and ready for him. He takes one in his mouth, sucking and biting. You moan at the sensation, hands flying to their familiar spot in his hair. You inch closer to the edge of the dressers, needing to feel him.

You reach down between you, grabbing his bulge through his pants. Without taking his mouth off of you, Spencer grabs your hand and pulls it away. You complain, wanting to make him feel as good as he's making you feel but he keeps his tight grip on your wrist.

"Please, Spence."

"No." he pulls away from your tit and you groan. "Tonight is about you, baby." he runs a finger down your jaw, stopping in front of you lips.

You part them for him and he places two fingers inside of your mouth, pressing against your tongue. You open wide for him, staring straight into his eyes.

He raises his brow, a silent command. You do as you're told and suck on his fingers, closing your eyes and imagining its something else.

You roll your hips against the dresser, one of your hands goes between your legs to relieve some of the tension but Spencer stops you once more.

"That's my job." he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away.

Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth and you watch as he hooks his fingers under the band of your pants. You lift your hips, letting him take them off completely.

"You're already so wet for me." he sighs as he presses his fingers against you. You moan as he starts drawing small circles against you.

Just like his kisses, they're slow at first. You rock your hips, matching his movements. He seems to like that because he speeds up. Just when you feel that tension build up, he stops.

You frown at him but he doesn't give you enough time to complain before his lips are on you once more. He's kissing you harshly, biting your lower lip and tugging on it. You barely notice when he lifts up once more and plops you down on the bed.

Spencer pulls away from you, leaving you staring at the ceiling and you feel like screaming. Why does he keep stopping? You're about to ask him when you feel another sharp tug. He's taking off your underwear.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he kneels down in front of the bed. He tugs you further down and, without warning, presses his mouth against you. You feel his sigh as he starts tasting you.

"Fuck, you taste so good, baby." he moans against you.

You bite your lip, threading your fingers through his soft hair to guide him though he does not need it. He's hitting all the correct spots, going at just the perfect speed, perfect pressure, perfect everything.

You fall back, relaxing against the bed. Spencer places your legs over his shoulders, giving him better access.

"You taste so good." he says as he inserts two fingers into you.

"Fuck, Spence!" you moan.

"Is that good?" he asks.

"Yes! Fuck, that's good."

He slips another finger into you and you nearly cum right there. He hooks his fingers into you, reaching deeper and deeper. You arch your back, feeling close to the edge. It's when he presses his mouth back against your aching cunt that you completely fall over it.

You orgasm against his mouth, riding his face as the pleasure washes over you. You see a combination of stars and fireworks behind your eyes and dig the heel of your feet into his back.

Spencer says nothing as you ride out your orgasms, keeping his mouth on you at all times. Once you're finally done, he pulls away. You're panting on the bed, your chest rapidly falling and rising.

You see him stand up and undo his tie, keeping it hanging around his neck.

"That felt so good, Spence." you say, half-laughing.

"Yeah? You did so well for me."

You feel the bed dip as he climbs over you. His mouth is wet and you can taste yourself on his lips when he begins to kiss you. He lets his entire weight crush you, pressing his hips against your naked cunt. He's hard, you roll your hips against him as he kisses you, wanting him to feel some sort of release.

In one quick movement, he rolls you over. You smile into the kiss, excited for whatever comes next. Spencer sits both of you up, moving you to the edge of the bed.

He pulls back and brushes his hair over your shoulder, exposing your chest. He kisses the top of your breast, sucking the soft skin until surely a hickey starts to form. You roll your hips against him, reeling in how good the material of his trousers feel against you.

"You want me to feel good?" he asks, looking up at you.

"Yeah." you say as you ride him.

Spencer nods and you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back. He smiles, crossing his arms behind his head and watching you roll your hips.

You move to get off him so you can suck his dick but he stops you.

"No." is all he says.

"No?" you ask.

He shakes his head.

You smile, liking a challenge. You place your hand flat against your stomach, slowly guiding it upwards until your left tit is in your hand, you squeeze it, giving him a good show. He arches an eyebrow and you wink.

Your other hand goes to his stomach, using it to hold yourself up as you continue to ride him. You glance down and see a wet patch in his pants form from were your cunt has been.

"You're gonna have to wash these pants." you laugh.

"Have to?" he asks.

You glance up at him and blush.

"I want you to come using only my leg." he suddenly says.

"What?" your hips freeze in response to his words.

"Did I say stop?" he asks, one of his hands going to your hips to coax you into moving. "No. I said I want you to come using only my leg."

You lick your lips and nod. Sure, you can do that. You roll your hips once and gasp at the sensation. You do it again, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. You squeeze your breast before releasing it. You reach down to the first button of his shirt and carefully undo it.

Shyly, you glance up at him, asking for permission to continue. Spencer gives it to you with a quick nod. You undo his shirt, exposing his chest and stomach. You place both hands on Spencer's bare stomach and lean forward, resting your bodyweight on him.

You open your eyes and stare into his as you begin to roll your hips. His trousers are the perfect friction against your cunt. You can already tell you're close. You imagine the satisfaction of feeling him inside of you.

"And after, you'll fuck me?" you ask him.

"Yes, of course, you've been so good. So so good, I'll just have to fuck you." he's just lying there, staring up at you, gaze flickering from your bouncing tits to your desperate face.

You feel yourself tighten around nothing and, forgetting his words, you reach down to push yourself over the edge. It's quick, two strokes of your index and middle finger and your orgasm overtakes your body. You keep rubbing yourself against him.

However, you're quickly pulled out of your orgasm as Spencer flips you over. You feel so dazed, you can do nothing but whimper as he grabs your hands and pulls them behind you. You vaguely feel as he wraps something around your wrists, constraining you. It's soft and silky - his tie.

You're still confused when he pulls your hips up, your bare ass right in front of him. It's his cock slamming into you that finally snaps you out of your daze.

"Fuck!" you yell, pulling on the constraint, wanting to place a hand before you.

He surprises you once more with a sharp sting on your ass.

"I said only my leg." he growls. "You little slut, did I say you could use your fingers?"

He slams into you once more, pushing you further into the mattress and drowning whatever you were going to say. You open your mouth, spit pooling on the sheets, and let moan after moan spill out of you. You're so sensitive you can feel your next orgasm ready to bubble over. He lifts your ass further and smacks it again.

You hiss at the sensation, wondering what he's using to smack you. Though the loud slap of skin on skin is filling the room, you can hear his groans as he slams into you repeatedly. He's fucking you harder than he's even fucked you before. His left hand tightly grips your waist, holding you up because you can barely do that yourself.

"Answer me! Did I say you could use your fingers?" he slams into you.

"No, no." you stutter, your vision is clouding with pleasure.

"Then why did you?" he smacks you again.

It then that you realise it's his belt he's using to smack your ass.

The thought alone pushes you into your third orgasm. You clench around him and bite down on your lower lip.

"Fuck, Spence!" you moan. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please don't stop, please, please."

He drops the belt and reaches between you, his fingers quickly drawing circles on your clit. You're shaking as you reach your peak, barely able to get a single word out. Spencer cums in you soon after, slamming into you once, twice, until he collapses on top of you.

Your mind is still cloudy as he rolls off of you and takes off the constraint. He pulls you close to him and kisses you as you come down from your high. You press yourself into him and gently kiss his chest, wrapping yourself around him so you're locked together like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Hey." he says, pulling away just enough to see you.

"Hi." you hazily smile up at him.

"Was that good?" his voice is much softer now and he even looks a bit shy, maybe even unsure.

"Yeah, yeah." you pull away wanting to asure him. "It was perfect. I, well, I honestly didn't know you had it in you." you wink at him, poking his cheek.

"Shut up." he rolls his eyes and laughs.

"It was hot, Dr. Reid." you feel his cock twitch at the sound of his title. "Oh?" you glance down between you and look up at him, grinning.

"Shush." he repeats, burying his head in your hair.

“Did I ever tell you how handsome you are with the long hair, Reid?” You slurred, sounding somewhat drunk as you spoke, no doubt a byproduct of the fever, and he hoped you weren’t in any pain, since you didn’t seem in any state to complain. You seemed euphoric if anything, judging by the intoxicated grin on your face as you reached for him, your hands lightly sheened in sweat. 

“Yes, you did,” Spencer replied, his cheeks burning with more than the high temperature that he was running, “Multiple times. Sweetheart, do you reckon you could help me look for the cure?”

“Sure!” You hopped away from the counter, almost throwing yourself to the ground in your excitement, and you felt the room spinning as you reached up to the cabinet above his head to search for the medication, “When this is all over, you gotta let me put some cute braids in it or something, Spence, I mean you’re really missing a trick-”

“Ofcourse, you can put the prettiest pigtails in my hair, the second we find that antidote,” He promised, his agile fingers flicking through every drawer in the cabinet, despite the fact his chest was pounding at your flirtatious tone. 

“Reid, that does not sound like she’s hanging in, that sounds very much the opposite of hanging in there,” Penelope rushed through the line, her fingers whizzing across her keyboard, the clicking clear through Spencer’s speaker, “She wants to primp you like you’re little girls in a playground, Reid, that is not hanging in there- oh good heavens I think I need a happy place right about now,” 

“I’ll say,” Spencer said where his head was in the fridge, rooting through the packs of diet coke and sparkling water the scientists had. He felt fingers rooting through his hair, and he sighed as he glanced up at your dazed expression, because he hated telling you no, “Cure first, honey, then you can braid my hair,”

“Right! Right, sorry it’s just so pretty, you’re just so pretty-” You mumbled, helping him empty out all of the files onto the floor so he could start skim reading. 

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists. 

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses. 

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout. 

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles. 

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face. 

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 

A = Aftercare

spencer is so good at aftercare!! after any session, he’s holding you, giving you kisses, or you’re doing that to him. he’ll see if you need anything while giving you the softest of smiles. he just loves you! and wants you to be taken care of!

B = Body Part

spencer’s favorite body part on himself are his hands and fingers. he loves to finger you, making you cum with nothing more than just his hands. however, on you, he loves your waist. he likes to grip it during sex or to just pull you to him by your waist while you’re walking down the street together.

C = Cum

when spencer cums, he cums a lot. and it has everything to do with the fact that he doesn’t have a lot of time to jerk off. so he really only ever has release when he’s with you. he will literally paint your whole entire body with his cum and then use it as lube to fuck you.

D = Dirty Secret

spencer is a switch (it’s not the secret) and would love for you to tie him up and blindfold him while you’re riding his cock. it’s the idea of being at your mercy every once in a while that really gets him going. but being who he is, he’s just too shy to mention it.

E = Experience

i don’t think spencer has a lot of experience at all. but due to his intelligence level, he’s a fast learner and loses his virginity with the knowledge of already knowing how to make you cum. once the two of you are comfortable with one another, it’s literally the best sex ever.

F = Favorite Position

spencer’s favorite positions definitely are missionary, riding, and one where you’re on your stomach lying down and his front is pressed against your back while he’s fucking you. it’s just so sensual and deep and just feels oh so good.

G = Goofy

depending on the mood, i think spencer can be a bit goofy. but it’s not like being funny. it’s just things to lighten the mood like a little giggle here and there or a comment about how beautiful you look while he has the softest smile on his face.

H = Hair

spencer most certainly had a happy trail and is actually very well groomed down there. he likes to maintain it simply because he likes to look clean. on you, however, he doesn’t care. so even if you have a bush, he’s eating you out like a starved man.

I = Intimacy

he’s very intimate when you guys have time to take your time. he’s maintaining eye contact with you, holding you close to him while he’s fucking you or you’re riding him, and regardless, he’s telling you how much he loves you and how beautiful you are. intimacy is like the norm for him when it comes to sex.

J = Jack Off

it’s very rare for spencer to jerk off but when he does it’s when he’s in the shower and he’s pumping his cock hard and fast in order to get some sort of release. this usually happens when he’s on long cases and he’s unable to stop thinking about you and your cunt.

K = Kink

okay so he’s got quite a few. when he’s feeling more subby, he’s lowkey got a mommy kink. but when he’s in his dominant mood, he wants you to call him sir. i feel like spencer is also very huge in body worship. he’s got a huge praise kink (giving and receiving) and a huge degradation kink (giving and receiving). also lowkey he’s into somnophilia.

L = Location

he prefers to have sex in the comfort of your bedrooms. however, you guys have definitely fucked in the restroom at the bureau. and at a few bars. and in the car. and in the kitchen. and in the living room. honestly you guys have fucked in every room in your apartments.

M = Motivation

you. just simply you. he’ll take one glance at you while you’re working on something and he would start imagining you on your knees in front of him. or him on his knees eating you out while you’re doing your work. he just wants you wholeheartedly.

N = No

this definitely stems from the trauma of his profession but anything that hurts you or is a risk to your life in any way, shape, or form is a big no for him. he can do choking but not enough for you to actually lose your breath.

O = Oral

HE LOVES IT!! spencer is such a munch. he will eat you out for ours and make you cum at least twice on his tongue before he does anything else. he is also big on receiving it too. 69 all the way baby 😏😏

P = Pace

definitely depends on the mood. when he’s stressed and just needs release, you guys are fucking hard and fast. but if you both just want to feel close to one another, you guys are fucking slowly and sensually, clinging to one another for dear life.

Q = Quickie

loves them. especially early in the morning right before he has to get ready for work. you wake him up by riding his cock and he’s whining beneath you. god it’s his favorite thing. he also loves bending you over the counter and taking you from behind.

R = Risk

spencer likes to think he’s modest and would not take any risks. but he’s lowkey an exhibitionist and gets off on the idea of being caught at some point. so he’ll fuck you in places like the bathroom or fitting rooms.

S = Stamina

depends on the day but usually he has enough stamina to do two rounds. when he’s exhausted though, he can only do one.

T = Toys

loves them! especially when he’s away, he wants to call you while you’re fucking yourself with a dildo, imagining his cock inside of you. he absolutely adores using vibrators on you to tease the hell out of you too.

U = Unfair

dom spence can be so unfair. he loves to overstimulate you and do orgasm denial. but he also loves it when you do the same to him. deny his orgasm until he can’t help but cum without your permission. or overstimulate him until he’s got nothing left.

V = Volume

he’s very vocal. he’s a whiner, a whimperer, a moaner, a groaner. he’ll praise you, talk dirty to you, talk you through it. and he loves it when you reciprocate it. he’s not afraid to make noise with you.

W = Wild Card

spencer loves getting pegged.

X = X-Ray

i think spencer is just above average. he’s about seven or eight inches but his cock is skinny, not girthy. especially due to his thin and lean build. but he knows what to do with it. and regardless, you’ll be cumming on his cock.

Y = Yearning

i think he’s someone with a high sex drive but with immense self control. he wants you 24/7. but he knows to control himself because sex isn’t as big of a priority as is making sure you’re both happy and thriving.

Z = ZZZ

“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.

You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”

Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”

“Show me.”

“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”

Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”

Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.

The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...

Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.

If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.

And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.

You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..

The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.

His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants

“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulder as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.

“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”

You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.

Being was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.

You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.

“Like that. Good girl.”

This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.

Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.

You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”

Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.

“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”

You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.

And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.

“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”

You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.

“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”

You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.

“Patience, love.”

Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.

The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”

“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.

After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”

He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”

With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.

“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”

You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.

"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.

"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.

Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"

You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."

"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."

If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.

“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”

The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”

You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.

The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his kneels slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.

The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.

A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”

The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.

But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.

“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”

The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.

After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.

“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.

A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”

You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.

Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.

It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.

A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”

“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”

You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.

This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.

“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.

You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –

“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.

When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.

As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”

A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.

Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.

You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.

The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.

He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.

The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.

“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”

You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.

Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”

He asked and your body complied.

With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.

Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”

“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.

He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”

“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”

“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”

His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.

He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.

“Are you comfortable?”

You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.

So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.

All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.

His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.

Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.

Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.

Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.

He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.

With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.

You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”

“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.

“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.

Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.

You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.

You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.

When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.

Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.

You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.

When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.

“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.

He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”

Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.

“spence?” you called down the hallway as you kicked your shoes off and hung your coat.

this was a rare occasion, being home before spencer, but your big ceo boss was staying late which meant his assistant—you, had to stay late too.

you frowned when you didn’t get a response, instead padding further into the apartment on your white, stocking-clad feet.

“baby?” you didn’t see him in the living room so you turned to the kitchen where he stood with his back to you, leaning on the counter.

“you’re late,” god, how you hated when you couldn’t place his tone. he didn’t sound mad, but he didn’t sound… not mad.

“I’m sorry, owen had me running errands all night, his big meeting’s coming up and he’s really stressed,” you explained, not wanting an argument to start. you walked up to him, softly leaning on the counter beside him and running your hand up his arm.

his face was tense and his demeanour tight. he hardly moved at your touch, simply taking a long blink and a deep breath. he’d rolled his shirt sleeves to just below his elbows, the veins in his forearms prominent and thick.

“something’s wrong, long day at work?” you asked him. his fingers twitched on the counter, his eyes flicking down to you as he took in your work attire. the silence freaked you out a little. “baby, say something.”

nothing.

“does your boss have to see you looking so pretty?”

in a flash, he was on you. his hands all over you and his face in your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin. you laughed in surprise, your own hands coming to his shoulders.

“look at you in that tight, little skirt and stupid silk blouse. d’you reckon he gets off on seeing you, seeing you in your pretty stockings. does he know I dress you every morning? does he know how expensive that blouse is? I do. I fucking bought you that blouse.” his words surprised you, but it all sunk into place in your mind as he pressed you against his front and you felt his bulge poking your hip bone.

you could only whimper, nails biting into his deep grey shirt and head tilting back.

“spence-“ “-come on let me feel you. let me feel your mouth, baby, I need it, I need it so bad.”

before you could respond, he was pushing you onto your knees with one hand on top of your head and the other undoing his belt. you sat on your knees, waiting for him to get his belt and flies open.

his cock stood tall in front of your face. thick, long and leaky, you closed your eyes happily as he smacked his length onto your cheeks and smeared his precum all over you. your eyes flashed open and a gasp tore your throat as he grabbed at the hair at the crown of your head and pulled it back.

your mouth opened as he guided your mouth onto his cock, the two of you groaning in unison. it wasn’t not long before he hit the back of your throat, your eyes closing as his cock reached its usual resting point. but he didn’t stop there.

your eyes opened and you look up to him as he kept pushing. his own eyes were fixed on the way he disappeared past your lips, ignoring your panicked whimpers as your nose drew closer to the small patch of hair at his pubic bone.

tears gathered as he pressed your face to his crotch and his groan of delight filled your ears. meanwhile, you were whimpering and gagging around his cock and smacking his thighs pathetically as you begged for him to move.

as he rolled his eyes with a sharp sigh, he pulled his cock out of your mouth and watched you, annoyed, as you coughed.

“breathe. gather yourself.” his words were short and demanding, waiting for you.

once again, he grabbed you by the hair and smushed your face into the underside of his cock.

“lick.” he instructed, a small smirk pulling at his lips when he felt your pathetic kitten licks. “oh, baby. I know you can do better than that.”

his teasing tone had you licking wide and long stripes up his cock as he enjoyed the feeling. not long after, he was jamming his cock down your throat again.

his hips worked overtime as he facefucked you, grinning down at your pathetic look. teary eyes, mascara-streaked cheeks, red complexion. and the cock sliding in and out of your spit-soaked lips.

feeling his pent up release hurtling towards him, he held your face down to his crotch again as he ignored your muffled wail. hot cum spurted into your mouth, some dripping down your throat. you pushed away from him, but he held you by your nose as he pressed down on your nostrils.

with half his cock in your mouth and your cheeks full of cum, you only wanted to spit into the sink. but, alas, the dreaded instruction came.

“swallow.”

spencer had always known about your oral fixation.

the way you fumble for his fingers while he’s ramming into your tight hole and draw them to your mouth, the way your eyes roll back when you get your mouth around them and suck.

it sends him certifiably insane.

he loves to pull his cock out of you just before you cum and make you suck your own juices off his glistening length, edging you for his own pleasure. it’s dirty, depraved. but he loves it.

sometimes, he’ll make you cockwarm him with your hot, wet mouth. he could be watching a movie, having the lunch you’d forced him to eat or doing paperwork. when you ask why he has so much to do, he simply shove your back down on his cock, you’re too silly to understand, sweetheart; besides, you’re happier with your mouth around his cock.

and, with a mouthful of salty cum running down your throat, you can’t help but agree.

barking, cumming, crying.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

Spencer calls you, and begs you to come to his apartment. He promises your favorite take out, and an explanation. For a moment, you pretend you could ever tell him no.

Just like the first night he spent in prison, when you pretended you wouldn’t write letters. For that single night, you pretended you wouldn’t get his prison ID number and put money in his account. For that one night you pretended you hadn’t already rearranged your life so you could go to his apartment to see his mother every day, and stay there the nights a nurse couldn’t. Pretended you wouldn’t make sure all his bills stayed paid, his fish was taken care of, and that you’d make sure he’d still have a sanctuary to go to when he was released.

By the end of that night you’d already written a three page letter four separate times and found a photo of the two of you and another photo of his mother to include. By the end of the first week, you’d sent the maximum amount of money allowed, and mailed a letter a day. You continued that pattern, maxing out his barely touched account each week, and a letter every single day. 84 letters, although you can’t guarantee he got the last one. You don’t tell him your news in any of the letters, still holding on to a shred of hope that this has all been a huge misunderstanding, that he’s going to get out and there will be a reason other than embarrassment. On her good days, you help his mother write him, and mailed her letters along with your own.

She received replies. But you didn’t.

You made sure to be out of his apartment on the days JJ would come to visit with her boys, which made you feel guilty and ugly. It twisted something in you because you genuinely liked JJ and you adored Spencer’s godsons. But you couldn’t be near her right now, felt too raw to have her tell you that she saw your boyfriend, got to hear his voice. Because her name was first and your name was crossed off. (And you can’t pretend that now you aren’t wondering if he was the godfather because he couldn’t be the father. If there was always more going on than you knew).

Apparently, even if he wouldn’t talk to you, he couldn’t stop the prison from doing so. You’d been his medical emergency contact since the Anthrax case years ago, so each time he is taken to the prisons hospital, you get an email. You hate that these are the only updates you get from him.

Luke checks on you every week, and he tells you Spencer asks about you to everyone who visits, and he raises an eyebrow at your disbelieving snort, but doesn’t question it. He raises an eyebrow at the noticeable weight loss from your face, at the baggy clothing, and how you now clutch a pillow in front of your stomach when you sit on the couch. But he doesn’t say anything. He knows that’s why you let him in. He offers to pass along a message each time. You never give him one.

Of course it’s JJ who goes to get him out of the prison. It was Emily who risked her career, twice, to go around protocol to save him. It was Luke who blackmailed a friend and threatened another inmate to ensure his safety. It was Penelope who found the necessary evidence, who cut through bureau tape and moved mountains to prove his innocence.

But it’s JJ who he sees first, who he hugs tightly to him. You’re not even aware he’s released, not even aware that Diana is missing. It’s the first time you haven’t been at his apartment - you’d been there for 82 of the 84 days, only missing the last two. You had tried to call Cassie to let her know you were in the hospital and not to worry Diana, but were forced to leave a voicemail.

It’s not even Spencer who tracks your phone, but Luke once more. He doesn’t ask why you are in the hospital, or why you’ve been crying. Just if you’re okay, and when you say you’re just waiting on the release papers, he hurries the nurse along to get them.

You don’t make it to the office before Spencer leaves to see Cat, even though you know Luke told them he was getting you. When Emily tells you she sent JJ with him to help him keep calm, you don’t even pretend to be okay, just getting up and walking out in front of the team. Rossi’s eyes clock the hospital bracelet you hadn’t yet removed, and Luke follows you, takes you to a safe office and encourages you to rest. He promises Spencer will return soon and will want to see you. He doesn’t even raise an eyebrow this time at your snort.

You wait for him to leave before calling a taxi back to your own place, where you’ve barely been.

It’s Penelope who lets you know that Diana is found and that Spencer will be landing soon, that all is well. You thank her but can’t get yourself to go back to the BAU. Besides, you reason, his mother was just kidnapped - he’ll want to spend time with her. That part at least you can understand.

You expect it to be Luke once more when you hear a knock, and you open the door without bothering to check. You know your eyes are red and your face is puffy, but you’ve never cared about impressing anyone other than Spencer. But it’s not Luke, or Penelope, or even Emily.

It’s Spencer, clutching a stack of paper in his hands.

He sees you for the first time in 84 days, and his battered heart breaks even more. Luke had told him you were rightly upset, had been the only one to chastise him for not including your name on the visitor list, the only one who said he saw you. Rossi had only brought it up once, and JJ had told him he was allowed to make his own choices - that he was the one in prison. He had thought it was odd that she hadn’t seen you on any of her visits, but hadn’t had the energy to question it, had never imagined where your thoughts would lead.

Your face is more defined than before, and you’re wearing baggy clothing so he can’t see if there are any other differences. Your face had crumpled upon seeing him, and he knows he’s lucky that you didn’t shut the door on him. He wants to touch you, to reach out and grab you to him, to never let you go.

But you’re guarded. Your posture is defensive, eyes wary. He’s never seen you look at him like that, and he opens his mouth to say your name, but nothing comes out. You two stand on your doorstep before you sigh, widening the door to let him in.

Your place is immaculate - cleaner than normal. He notices that the trash is completely empty, even though he knows your trash day isn’t for 2 more days. You sit on the far side of the couch, instead of your normal spot in the middle, hugging a pillow closely to you. You still haven’t said a word.

He hesitantly sits on the opposite end, angling his body to you, still clutching papers in his hands.

“I’m so sorry”.

It’s not enough, but it’s the only thing he can think to say. You don’t respond, eyebrows furrowed and he watches you blink rapidly, hates that he knows you’re trying not to cry.

“I- I couldn’t- I’m so sorry, sweetheart”.

He looks pathetic, sitting on your couch. You can see bruises fading on his face, notice how he slouches to the left, as if he can’t straighten the right side of his body. He’s thinner - he’s never been able to eat group food - and his doe eyes aren’t as bright. You’re so hurt, so upset and you feel as if the pain will never fade but it’s Spencer, and even if you’re just a stand in to him, you love him. You don’t make eye contact with him as you whisper,

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re out, Spencer.”

He wants to whine at your words. Your voice is hoarser than his, as if it hasn’t been used in days. He’s at a loss for words, unsure what to do when you look up at him.

“How’s your mom? I’m sorry for not being there - they, they had to have figured out my routine. I should have known, should have switched it up”.

“Your… routine?” He asks, confused as to what you meant, why you would apologize.

“I saw her every day. Except the last two - I, I wasn’t able to go. But I got there at the same time every day. I know she does better with routine, but I should have known. I’m sorry”.

“It’s not your fault, please, don’t apologize”. He whispers the words, his mind racing. You’re sitting here apologizing to him for something you have no control over, for doing him a favor by making sure his mom was okay daily, when he should be down on his knees begging you for forgiveness.

You nod at his words, looking back down at the ground. Before either of you can continue, his phone rings, and you see from the corner of your eye that he winces before answering.

“…what? Which hospital? I’ll- I’ll be there soon”.

You tilt your head at this but you don’t have to ask,

“The team - JJ - and the others - they were in an accident. I have to go to the hospital, I’m so sorry. Please, please don’t leave me - we have so much to talk about - I need to explain” he begs.

He watched your face go from complete concern to bitterness to resignation. Watches you sigh.

“Just go, Spencer. I’ll go stay at your apartment tonight with your mother - we have a pretty good routine already. But go see her, make sure she’s okay”.

You can’t hide the resentment when you say the word her, and Spencer is even more confused than before. He’s grateful you are going to watch his mother, but he doesn’t understand why you seem mad about JJ of all people.

“Sweetheart-”

He tries to start but your patience has snapped and all you feel is a deep ache inside you. He needs to leave before you break and you had promised the doctor you would limit stress right now, under threat of bed rest. A voice in your head says it had to count for something that he’d sought you out, right? And he’s leaving because the team is in trouble, not just JJ. (You try to ignore the voice that says he’d leave even if it was just JJ.)

“Just go. Don’t forget to call Will”.

He gets up when you do, still holding those papers. He is so unsure what to do, he’s angry - with himself, with the situation, with not knowing. He wants you to hold him, to cry and tell you everything, to beg for forgiveness and have you kiss his forehead like you used to. But his team has called him, and he has to go.

He swallows the lump in his throat but turns back to you before leaving. With two strides he’s in front of you and he pulls you into a bone crushing hug - as if he’s trying to merge himself to you. You hug him back, tentatively and he feels immediate relief. He doesn’t stop himself from asking you, whispering into your hair,

“Why did you say her like that? What’s going on?”

You drop your arms from him as if he’s burned you, stepping out of his embrace. He misses you immediately.

Your eyes are glassy as you meet his but your words only confuse him even more.

“Why was her name first?”

He doesn’t have an answer, and you don’t expect one. You turn away, gathering your bag, already packed by the door and wait for him to follow you outside.

“Just… be safe. Don’t do anything stupid, Spencer”.

You walk away from him without waiting for a reply and climb into your car to go take care of his mother, and he leaves to go help his team. He’s still so confused, and he hits the steering wheel in anger, wanting to scream. He makes it to the hospital, sees Luke first, then JJ and then Rossi, finds out about Stephen. Luke asks about you and he thinks about asking him what happened, but knows he needs to focus on the case.

When he returns home after a terrible night, happy for the mandatory 6 weeks off, he’s grateful to find you still in his apartment, cleaning up from breakfast for his mother. He’s exhausted, he hasn’t slept more than an hour at a time in 3 months. His mother looks concerned but you distract her, have already made a plan on what to do for the next 2 days so he can rest and regroup. You barely speak to him, but you hand him paperwork on different care facilities in the area that specialize in patients like his mother. He doesn’t know how you knew it had been on his mind and doesn’t get to express his appreciation before you’re ushering his mother out the door for a day of activities.

He’s able to move his mother to a safe facility almost immediately. She seems happier there already, and he promises to visit every chance he can. He still hasn’t managed to sleep, his mind going over your question every chance he’s had. That’s when he decides to call you, begging you to come over and promising an explanation. He doesn’t know why you knock instead of using your key, but he opens the door for you, ushering you over to his couch.

You sit, looking up at him expectedly. You’re nervous to be here and you haven’t been nervous around Spencer in almost a decade. You know you need to tell him your news, but you can’t do it, not yet. You need to know where you stand before, don’t want the situation to influence him.

He sits right next to you this time, knees touching yours, and his leg shakes.

“Do you still love me?” Is the first thing he asks and you rear back in shock. How could he ask that?

“You know I do” you whisper, your voice shaking.

“I- first, I need to thank you. For staying here every single day, and so many nights. For making sure my bills were paid, for feeding my fish, for the letters and for staying”. He tells you, voice soft, hand reaching out for yours.

“Letters you never answered” you say, removing your hands from his own.

“I-” he stops, swallows hard. You look at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Do you love me? I’m the one who should be asking that, Spencer. Did I wait 87 days just for you to end us?”

His mouth falls open, and he hurriedly tries to speak.

“Of course I do! I don’t want us to end- I don’t want you to leave, ever”. His voice has gotten louder and his eyes are wide, frightened.

“Then why?” Your voice is steady, anger coursing through your veins, “Why did you write her name first, and then mine, just to cross mine out? Why did you want to see her but not me?”

The anger is still there but your voice cracks on the last word, and you clench your fist together, fighting with yourself not to cry.

“What-”

You cut him off, “I saw the list of people allowed to visit you Spencer. The one you wrote. Emily didn’t hide it in time. I have been here through everything- every hospital stay, every nightmare, every ramble. Why was I suddenly not good enough to see you? Have I always been a replacement because she wasn’t available?”

You can’t fight the tears anymore as they stream down your face, and you grab the nearby pillow to hold on to, moving your body as far away from Spencer as possible. You’re upset with Spencer and with yourself - you know he’s exhausted, that he needs to rest and heal but so do you. You’d been in the hospital for that very reason, and you knew you had to control your emotions but you also needed answers, needed them now before you spiraled down further.

Spencer realizes what list you saw, and he doesn’t know what to do or say. He hadn’t been thinking of an order, but he understands how you viewed it, especially when you also saw your name crossed off. He hates that your body shakes and shies away from him, wants to pull you into his lap and tell you everything.

“You’ve never been a replacement for anyone. She and I are just friends, I told you that…” he trails off, unsure how to even start.

You scoff at him, and then ask,

“Did you return the letters she sent? Have you already talked to her about prison? About the trips to the hospital ward? Who was the first person you saw?”

You already know he answered almost every letter he received. Luke had let it slip not knowing that Spencer hadn’t sent you one.

“Answer me.” You try to demand. You need him to say the words, need him to confirm your worst fear.

“I wrote her back, and - and I had to tell her some things, because of Cat…”

“Then I don’t know why I’m here”. You can’t do this, can’t handle it. You stand, walking around the coffee table to leave and Spencer can’t let you go, can’t bare to see you walk away so he lunges for your hand, blurting out the truth -

“I couldn’t let you see me because I- I didn’t want the one beautiful thing in my life to be marred by the ugliness of prison. I crossed your name off because I couldn’t let you see me and not touch you- I knew I’d break. I knew that watching you leave me in prison would destroy me. It was selfish but it was the only thing I could think to do. I needed the most important part of my life to not be touched by that hell. I wanted to see you - wanted to be with you every second of every day. Thinking of you was the only way I survived. I read all your letters every single day, over and over and over again even though I’d already memorized them. I would sit there, and- and trace the words you’d written, imagining you and what you’d have looked like in that moment. And I answered every single one - I have 84 replies that I never sent. I didn’t mail them because I was scared - I was terrified the entire time and I still am. Please, please don’t leave”.

You had turned to look at him halfway through his speech, and he had fallen on his knees in front of you. Tears streamed down his cheeks and it was second nature for you to gently wipe them away. You weren’t convinced, his speech was pretty but it didn’t take away the hurt, the deep ache you felt in your soul. He wasn’t done yet though,

“I wrote her name because I didn’t care if she saw me. She’s the person on the team who knows me best but she is nothing compared to you. You have seen every part of me, and stayed. I had a crush on her once, yes, but that’s not even a drop in the well of feelings I have for you. I - I can’t imagine a life without her in it but I don’t want to live a life without you. You’re the- the gravity that holds me on this Earth. You’re the air I need to breathe, the reason I can wake up and still function. The reason I’m not completely broken, or already dead. Angel - you’re the only book I want to read the rest of my life. I want to write new chapters with you, and only you. There is nothing and no one in this universe who would ever make me stop loving you. Stop wanting you. Stop needing you. I’m so sorry for making you doubt that, for ever letting those thoughts enter your brain. I’m so sorry”.

Spencer is sobbing now, gripping the hand you’d used to wipe his tears away. You find yourself kneeling on the floor in front of him, both of you still crying. But for the first time since his release, you pull him towards you, and Spencer fully breaks down in the safety of your embrace. His body trembles as he clutches you, his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck, and he whispers, his tone pleading,

“I love you. I- I had been planning on proposing to you, before this all happened. I messed up, and I should have talked to you, should have told you. I would give up everything I have to go back and make a different choice but I can’t. I can’t and all I can do now is be honest with you. I’ve never been good with emotions - with- with saying how I feel, and I know that you know that. But I will spend every single day for the rest of my life proving how much you mean to me, how irreplaceable you are. Please, stay.”

The pieces of your heart start to knit together. You don’t agree with his decision, but you can understand. You don’t know if you would have been strong enough to leave him in the prison if you had visited. This doesn’t fix everything, but it does make the deep ache fade away, and you press kisses onto the crown of his head, rubbing his back soothingly, relishing that he’s in your arms again, that he’s real and he’s here.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer. I love you.”

He cries harder at your words, repeating a mantra of “thank you” mixed with “I’m so sorry” and “I love you”. You can’t kneel on the floor anymore, and you both have forgotten about dinner, moving to his bedroom instead where he lies on your chest to listen to your heart beat. He still can’t sleep through the night, but this time when he wakes up you’re there, and you kiss him each time, card your fingers through his hair and he falls back asleep.

In the morning, when he finally asks why Luke had found you at a hospital, he worries when you won’t immediately answer. When you tell him you have something for him, explain that you’d gotten it the day he left, he is even more worried. When he unwraps the pretty paper from the book you’d bought 88 days ago, he cries. This time though he’s not upset, looking at you in shock and wonder. Later, the guilt of not being there will hit him, but you’ll be there to work through it. Right now though, Spencer gives you 84 replies, and tells you every single thing that happened, not sparing you a single detail. He tells you his hope for a future with you, and even tells you about different possible futures - says that if you want him to become a cowboy with cattle, he’ll make it happen. You laugh at the notion, the first laugh in 3 months, and let him know you’re fine where you are, as long as he never leaves again. He promises he never will. He promises your name will be the first on any list from now on, but says you’ll have to make an exception for whatever name you two choose from the book. It’s a fair compromise, and one you agree with. You spend the rest of the day wrapped up in each other, slowly healing, but most importantly, together.

(When your child is born, he doesn’t argue with the decision for Luke and Emily to be the godparents, wholeheartedly agrees, just writes their names on a new list, right after yours.)

————

Tag List/everyone who commented:

Spencie: Your chariot awaits, m'lady.

You chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes at his language choice before responding.

You: I'll be down in a moment, sire.

You gathered your belongings and bundled up before racing down the stairs and out into the large empty parking lot. There, in the middle of the lot, was a car you didn't recognize. Usually, Spencer's light color vintage Volvo Amazon P130 was waiting for you, but this car was obviously more modern and a BMW coupe of some kind. You squint to see if its Spencer seated in the driver's side. As you move closer, the window rolls down and out pops Spencer's head full of wavy curls.

"Don't worry - it's me," he beams a goofy grin and waves you forward.

You begin to walk quicker towards the car and open the passenger side before swinging inside and plopping down onto the warmed leather seats.

"What is this? What happened to the Volvo?" you inquire, admiring the detailed interior.

"Oh, I've still got it, but figured I needed a modern upgrade - it is over 50 years old you know," Spencer stated matter-of-factly, rubbing his hands down the steering wheel.

You smile at him, "Well, I like it. Heated seats, too - fancy."

A laugh escapes him before he says, "I figured I'd have it ready for you, I knew you'd be freezing."

"Well, you know," you begin, "there's a warmer way that we can celebrate this new car."

"How so?" Spencer inquires, raising his eyebrow.

You leaned over closer to him, pressing your lips softly against his neck. "The way we celebrate anything else..."

"Wine?" he staes.

You chuckle and slap his chest lightly, "We can do that when we get home, pretty boy... now, what else do we do?"

Spencer ponders for a moment before responding, "Oh, ohhh... you're always full of devious ideas, aren't you?"

You can't help but smirk at him before working your way over the center console to straddle him. Thankfully, he caught on and moved the seat further backwards to make room for both of your bodies. Spencer wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your body to press against his, bringing you in for a deep passionate kiss. Your clothed core rubbed against his strained denim erection, causing you to moan into each others mouths. As you continue to grind against him, you notice the seat begin to lean back, causing your body to be flat on top of his. Spencer's hands came to cup both of your ass cheeks and rub you deeper against him. The pressure against your clit was almost to much to bear and it made you want him so much more. You reached down between you and began fiddling with his pants button, undoing it unskillfully and attempting to shimmy them down his legs.

"Needy, hm?" Spencer teased, assisting you in removing his pants before working your top off.

"So are you," you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling softly.

"Trying to ruin my new leather seats?" he inquired as you stroked the bulge still contained by his boxer briefs. Before you could respond, he placed a firm spank on your ass, eliciting a loud moan from you. "Or are you trying to get caught?"

You look down at him with a devilish look, "Both."

"Fuck - you're so bad," Spencer groaned, running his hand up your skirt and looping his fingers on your panty line to pull them down.

He glides two of his fingers along your folds before dipping them into your wet center, making you moan again. The pad of his thumb rubs figure-eights against your clit, making your wetness pool even greater.

You needed him desperately but you couldn't form the words to direct him, so you took matters into your own hands and worked his throbbing cock from his underwear until it smacked against his stomach. You whimpered at the sight, grabbing his wrist to stop the motion and lining his tip up with your entrance. Before he could register what was happening, you sank down on him, throwing your head back and sobbing at the pleasurable sensation of him stretching you out.

"You always make me feel so good, Spence," you mutter breathlessly, bracing your hands against his chest.

"God," Spencer huffed out, "your pussy was made for me, angel."

That comment sent all your blood rushing to your core and you began to move up and down on him deeper than before, his dick filling you up all the way to your cervix. Your walls quivered around him and feral noises reverberated from your throat. His echoed yours, but deeper and more guttural. Spencer dug the fingers of one hand into your thigh and scraped the other set of fingernails down your back.

"Y-you're perfect," he whimpered. "You're all mine. I-I love you, y/n."

"Oh fuck - I-I love you, too, baby, mmm," you respond, your body melting into his.

Your clit hit against his navel with every bounce, giving your bundle of nerves just enough stimulation to make your entire pussy go numb with pleasure. Every time you lowered yourself onto him, he hit deeper inside of you until he tapped your g-spot over and over again. The pressure grew inside of you so intensely you felt like you were bound to explode. You grasped on to the shoulder area of the seat and allowed him to hit your spot a few more times before you completely came undone, his name rolling from your lips freely and with loud volume as you continued to ride him. It was the most mind-blowing orgasm you had ever experienced. You suddenly felt your thighs and Spencer's navel become soaked and stinky, causing you to stop your rhythm momentarily.

"Holy shit," Spencer whined, looking between your face and the mess you had made. "You - you just squirted all over me, angel."

You return the look of shock and are speechless for a moment, "I-I did what? That's never happened before."

"I know, but - it was fucking amazing. I loved it," he groaned, thrusting into you once again, regaining the previous rhythm. Spencer was needier than before, gripping onto you with pleasing anguish. You had been with him long enough to know that he was close to coming, his muscles becoming strained and his face beginning to contort into one of focus and release.

"Cum for me, Spence baby," you beg, your body loose from your previously achieved ecstasy.

"I'm going to cum inside of you," he clarified with a determined tone. "So so deep inside of you, angel."

The hairs on your body stand up at that tone in his voice and the insinuation of his future action. You knew no greater than sensation than him emptying himself into you.

"P-please please," you implore, tightening your walls around him as he began to twitch inside of you.

"Anything for you, angel," he groaned, finally releasing himself and spilling his seed inside of you. "Anything... anything for you..." he continued to babble as he came.

You both rested for a moment, his eyes shut peacefully as his body relaxed. Eventually, you felt it was time to pull off of him, bringing the seat back to its normal lift level.

"That was amazing," he said heatedly, smirking up at you. "Even though you made a mess all over my new seats."

"Mmm, I didn't mean to. It'll clean up easy, baby," you reassure.

"Oh, it was so worth it to see you that way and have your cum all over my thighs - fuck," Spencer grumbled.

You lean down, kissing him deeply and lifting his chin with your fingers. "How about we continue this at home, hm? With that bottle of wine..." you press a peck on his lips. "And maybe another round?"

A groan rumbles in his throat and Spencer grips onto your ass firmly once again, "Fuck yes. I'll worry about deep cleaning this later."

You both gathered yourself and put your clothes back on quickly. Spencer helped you move back to your seat and pulled your seatbelt over your chest, snapping into the buckle before doing his own. Before you knew it, he was stepping on the gas and pulling out of the parking lot at a high rate of speed. Both of you were eager to get home and get right back to celebrating.