#daddy!spencer

You could hear the front door opening from your bedroom, listening to the footfalls get closer to where you were.

Laying your book down against your legs, you watched the doorway- waiting for him to appear in it.

You saw his crop of messy curls before you saw the rest of him, the way he took up nearly the whole doorframe as he stepped into the room.

The way your eyes lit up immediately lifted Spencer’s own expression. He was tired, it was obvious that he was tired. But just seeing how happy you got from just seeing him? That made all the long days worth it.

Two long fingers hooked into his tie, loosening it enough so he could undo his top two buttons. You watched as the tiniest sliver of skin was revealed at the top of his neck.

“Long day?” You asked, hoping he wouldn’t see the way your hips twitched as he continued to pull on his tie.

Two long strides toward the end of the bed, his knees pressed against the base as he leaned forward. One hand reached out to grasp your ankle, holding just enough to tug you to the end of the bed.

You let it happen, book discarded to the side as Spencer pulled you far enough down to slot between your legs. He laid one palm beside your head, the other gripping your waist.

“Very long day.”

All you did was nod, gazing up at him as his wide eyes trailed over you like he was eyeing up dinner. In one way or another, he was.

Spencer trailed his hand up your torso, featherlight touches tickling against your stomach and towards your chest.

You reached out to twist his tie between your fingers, pulling him even closer to you. “What can I do to help, daddy?”

Your voice trailed off into a whimper as you spoke, knowing what it’d mean. Spencer’s voice broke in a whimper, hips bucking forward into your own.

He rolled his crotch against you, a hardness in his slacks that pressed between your thighs. He dipped even lower, lips ghosting over yours just enough.

Never enough.

Lifting your own head, you closed the gap so you could press your mouth to his. Tongue slipping onto yours, you felt his fingers tighten on your hips as he continued to grind into you.

It was heady, debauched moans ripping from your chest as he humped you like a fucking schoolboy. Lifting your hips up to meet his, you could feel the desperation practically radiating off him.

You dragged your hands down to his trousers, rubbing his cock through the fabric. You liked the sounds it made, the way his head tipped back and he bared his throat to you.

Reaching your tongue out, you ran one long lick along the column of his throat as he began humping your hand. For a moment you thought this was it, you’d lie here and let him use you however he liked.

Part of you hoped he would.

“Yes.” True to his orders, you hadn’t touched yourself at all in the recent weeks.

But Spencer is always finding ways to make things difficult, so he’s been calling you between cases just to work you up and leave you hanging. It would be a lie to say you don’t enjoy the steady thrill of hearing his voice over the phone, the promise of imagining your limbs tangled together. Even if it ended in his mischievous tone telling you to wait, there was something invigorating about the process.

The subtle tug on the back of the collar brings you back to earth. His fingers are looped in the leather as he leans down by your ear. “What was that?”

You bite your lower lip to keep a smirk at bay. “Yes, daddy.”

He lets go, this time trailing his fingertips down between your shoulder blades. You can practically feel the grin on his face as goosebumps rise along your skin. They betray every ounce of secret anticipation that you’ve been trying to lock away.

“Has it been hard?” he asks.

“Has what been hard?” Your voice has a sweetness to it that you know he’s going to enjoy. There’s a moment of silence where you can sense him thinking, and then his hands are on your hips, spinning you around.

Your palms rest against his chest and you look up. Spencer’s lovely eyes have taken on a darkness that only you’ve seen before. His hair is messy but soft-looking as ever. It’s taking everything in you not to touch it and kiss him as deeply as you’ve been craving.

“Not playing with yourself,” His grip tightens, then relaxes as one of his hands moves up to your jaw. He sets his thumb below your chin, angles you up a little before pressing the pad of it against your lips. “Squirming. Thinking about what I’d do to you when I got back.”

You gulp.

“I know exactly how you think, Y/N,” the corners of his mouth turn up. “I know what makes you wet, what makes you cum.”

You nod obediently. It’s not worth fighting the truth. Spencer knows your body in a way you never even expected he could.

“I know you’ve been imagining me pounding into you, fucking you until it breaks the bed.”

“Spencer–” You squeeze your thighs together at the thought of it. But your words are interrupted by the sensation of his thumb sliding gently past your lips and into your mouth. Instinctively, you move your tongue over it and hold it there.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He murmurs gently, grinning at how easily he can shut you up.

Your eyes beg for more. It’s intoxicating, being treated like this by him.

“I’ve been thinking about it too, though,” he continues after his eyes dart down to the way your thighs are tightly pressed together. “When I touch myself, all I think about is being inside of you again.”

Your whimper vibrates against his finger. The air is heavy with the electricity that crackles between you.

“So beautiful and desperate for me,” His expression holds a danger that makes you want to implode. “Now be a good little slut and get on the bed for daddy.”

You nod as he withdraws his thumb and back up to the mattress. You can’t take your eyes off of him in his suit, the tie hanging loosely around his neck as he watches your movements with acuity.

You can see the internal battle happening in his mind between power and desire. It’s been a long time for him, too. He needs to be close to you again, even if this game the two of you play only heightens the experience. And you both love a good game.

Finally, he gives in to himself a bit and approaches. His gaze is locked on your chest rising and falling, the collar around your neck. It’s a physical manifestation of your connection and he can’t get enough of it.

Before you can plead with Spencer, he pulls your legs apart. He grabs your hips and yanks you back down to him, pressing his clothed erection against your core. You can tell your panties are soaked through, so you can only hope the wetness doesn’t leak through onto the fabric of his pants. He doesn’t seem to care, though, as he begins to grind gently against you.

Once again, he tips your head up to look at him in the dim light of the bedroom. His skin has a glow to it that makes your knees go weak. He dips down and presses his mouth to yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative after so much time apart. It’s as if he’s afraid his own passion will overwhelm you, although you know it never could. Your affection for him burns through every limb of your being until all you can think about is the friction of your skin against his.

Spencer’s tongue finds yours in the kiss and the two of you melt into each other. His hold on your body tightens further as he increases the pressure against your core. When he pushes you back onto the mattress and crawls on top, the smile on your face is deliriously happy. This is exactly what you missed– the simultaneously joyful and sexual nature of your reunions. They’re a high that makes the flights and pressure of his job worth it. His hands reach around your back and undo the clasps of your bra before he throws it aside and buries his face in your neck.

“Mine.” he grunts into your skin. His hips jerk. He must be painfully hard, now, so you try to reach down and undo the button on his pants, but he stops you.

“Watch it, sweetheart.” He warns sharply. Although it’s a scolding, the fluttering of his breath on your throat makes you squirm more.

“Fuck, daddy, please–” You gasp as his fingers suddenly slide beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s deft with his movements and immediately finds your clit. You nearly yelp at the pleasure it sends through your body.

“Please what?”

His tone dares you to speak more while he rubs your clit in circles. You’re trying to maintain any semblance of composure, though every coherent thought seems to dissolve upon formation.

“I need it.” Your voice is whiny and greedy, which he loves.

“I know, baby,” He kisses your neck. “I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

You ball the sheets in your fists as you approach the edge of orgasm. It’s barely taken any time after so much teasing.

“Mhmm.” You whimper. “I haven’t even put my cock inside and you’re begging.” The softness of his laughter ripples across your senses. You’re pathetic for the weight of his body on top of yours, but it doesn’t matter. All you know is the desire that’s threatening to smolder through you.

“Let’s get rid of these, shall we?” He murmurs. The fabric of your panties gives immediately as he tugs them down your legs and discards them elsewhere. He uses one arm to hold himself up over you while the other traces up the inside of your thighs and starts to play with your pussy again. This time, however, the pressure is more intense and he holds eye contact. He bites his lip.

“You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.” He smiles devilishly as your hips circle against his touch.

“Really?” Your eyes widen as you urge him on.

“Mhmm,” He leans down to kiss your forehead. “I’m gonna destroy you.”

The determination of it is what sends you over the edge. Every muscle in your body contracts as you throw your head back and let out a hungry moan. The orgasm racks your body as you shudder and whimper. Spencer’s pace increases. He works you through your climax.

“Oh my god–” You nearly choke on the words. Nothing could encompass the pleasure he’s causing within you at that moment.

“Fuck.” He groans at the sight and you know he won’t be able to resist fucking you anymore. The waiting is too much. He removes his hand and quickly takes off his pants and underwear until he’s crawling back on top. He holds your legs apart and hovers over you. He’s divine. The love threatens to burst out of your chest, especially at the reverence of his attention.

“You’re perfect.” He says. The words are punctuated by the way he leans down and kisses you deeply, then presses the head of his dick against your entrance. You gasp at the intrusion, though it turns quickly to a moan. Spencer’s head drops down to your collarbone. his teeth sink lightly into the skin, tongue running over the tender spots while he drives deeply into your pussy.

“Daddy…” you whimper. The title makes him snap his hips eagerly against yours.

“That’s it.” his nails dig into your waist and he begins to form a rhythm. “You feel that, sweetheart?”

You nod. If you open your mouth, you’ll cry out in pleasure. Staying quiet is difficult enough with the way he’s working your body.

“I wanna fuck you every day.” He pants. His hands move from your waist to hold himself up better while one cups your face gently. The intensity of his expression is almost enough to break you. When he loops his pinky in the collar and pushes his thumb past your lips again, it’s heavenly. You’re locked onto him.

You start to suck on it while your wide eyes peer up excitedly. He’s losing control, the harsh rhythm causing the headboard to slam against the wall. You want to suspend this moment forever, this flawless balance of gentle affection and unfettered desire.

The pressure builds in your core, however, and you can feel every second tugging you towards orgasm. It’s inevitable. Spencer is groaning and whispering dirty things in your ear. “Good girl,” he praises. “Taking daddy’s cock so well.”

You shiver with elation and raise your hips up off the mattress to get more friction. You’ve lost virtually all control of your body, the two of you working toward orgasm with an animalistic determination.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He says as his thrusts get sloppier. “I’m gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod and try to smile around his thumb in your mouth.

“Right there, fuck, fuck–” He finds the perfect position and slams into you repeatedly, eyes rolling back into his head as he lets out a loud groan.

As his seed shoots into you, the pressure of his movements on your clit sends you into your own spiral. You suck harshly on his thumb and whimper to keep from screaming in ecstasy as your body tightens around his cock. It’s surreal, the waves of relaxation that course through your veins. You never want the feeling to leave.

Spencer watches you finish with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration, rides out the last of his own climax while thrusting a few more times. Your nails dig into his back as you cling to him. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You hate when he leaves, even if only for a few weeks.

Once you’ve ridden out the high, your boyfriend rolls off of you and onto the mattress. He tries to catch his breath in the afterglow. The silence is wonderful, down to the feeling of his fingertips twining with yours over the sheets.

“How was that?” he asks you a few minutes later. You squeeze his hand.

“Amazing. You?”

“Amazing.” he has a huge grin on his face as he slowly gets up from the bed and walks into the bathroom. You hear him turn on the shower and when he comes out, you’re staring at him affectionately.

“Come on,” He blushes from the attention– which is strangely endearing, given what you just did– and helps you up. The whine that escapes your throat makes him chuckle. “You need to get cleaned.”

“I know.” you mumble softly. He positions you in front of the mirror to look at your reflection as he undoes the collar around your neck and kisses your shoulder.

“I’m gonna put this away.” He leaves the bathroom so you can pee and then hop into the shower.

The water soothes your nerves as it falls over your head and back. As much as you wanted to just stay in bed, this feels good. And when Spencer comes in to join you under the waterfall shower, it’s more than worth it.

He cleans you between your legs and washes your hair while you lean against his chest. The steady rise and fall of it keeps you grounded, even as he kisses behind your ears and whispers sweet things.

You feel safe and warm in his embrace. When he finishes, you turn around and give him a peck on the lips. His hair is plastered to the face by the water, but it’s cute.

“What?” He chuckles.

After rubbing your eyes to adjust to the darkness, you took the baby monitor and turned it on. Then you knew. A gray image showed an empty crib while Spencer held the baby in his arms, rocking him gently and whispering sweet words.

Your son turned two months and a half, and even if he was sweet, the nights still were rough. Spencer knew that, and he tried to do the hardest work when he was home. He returned to work from paternity leave two weeks ago, and he felt guilty leaving you with your son alone. It didn’t help that you always reminded him that it was okay and that you would adjust. But you were exhausted. And if it was true that your sleep pattern was as messy as your son’s, you didn’t want Spencer worried about it.

Your boyfriend knew better, though. You didn’t need to say something; he could see the dark circles under your eyes and how tired you looked. So he took every chance to help you recover some sleep.

You kept your eyes on the monitor—your sleep long forgotten by now. Spencer was still rocking the baby, pacing in the nursery with a hand in his tinny butt and the other holding his head. Some cries and hiccups could be heard from the infant. That meant that the fuss should have been hard. You felt guilty for not noticing. But you had barely slept four hours in the past two days.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright. Daddy is here. Everything is fine. We are home; we are safe. Mommy is safe. She’s sleeping right now, you know? She needs the rest, so we won’t wake her up, okay? We can sort this out. Right, my little one? I know we can handle this. You’re such a good baby,” Spencer cooed.

The baby’s wails came to a halt like he really understood his father’s explanation. That amazed you from day one. Every time Spencer talked to the baby, no matter how fussy he was, he managed to calm him down. Maybe Spencer can’t breastfeed him, but he has magic words. It wouldn’t surprise you in the least if this kid were a genius like his father.

You still remember the restless nights when you couldn’t sleep because the baby didn’t stop kicking. One particular night, you discovered how soothing Spencer’s words could be.

-

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, rubbing his eyes from the sleep and seeing how you shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

“The baby doesn’t stop kicking. Is like they are having a party there,” you complained, stroking your belly, tears pricking your eyes from the frustration and lack of sleep.

“Is that so?” Spencer asked, but no to you. He leaned his head, speaking to your belly and rubbing soothing circles on it. “Hey. Are you having a good time there? We need to talk about sleep schedule, little peanut. You know, mommy needs to sleep too. You should know that it’s not a good idea upset mommy,” he mumbled, almost whispering as if he didn’t want you to listen.

“Hey!” You complained, swatting a hand playfully on Spencer’s shoulder. “They will think I’m kinda bitch. That’s not fair.”

“That’s not what I said!” he defended. Then Spencer turned again to talk to the baby. “Seriously, peanut. You should be sleeping as well. Would you feel okay if I read you a story?”

Spencer kept rubbing your belly as he recited a story by memory. Minutes later, the baby stopped kicking, and your body could relax. You didn’t know if Spencer had finished the story. You fell asleep soon after the baby stopped kicking.

-

You thought about if it was a good idea to go there to help your boyfriend. You knew he needed to go to work in a couple of hours.

Being home, you could handle the sleep deprivation, but you were sure Spencer needed the sleep as much as you did.

But your body felt so tired that moving your limbs seemed extraordinarily difficult to achieve.

On the other hand, you love hearing Spencer talking to the baby. His voice full of love and adoration for the infant always gets you emotional.

“That’s my little one. Come back to sleep. You’re such a good baby,” Spencer cooed, still pacing with the baby in his arms. “I love you so much. We love you so so much.” Spencer paused to sit in the rocking chair.

“Maybe you didn’t know this, but when your mom told me she was pregnant, I could feel she was nervous. I can’t explain why, but adults sometimes don’t say much about their feelings and what they want. Daddy is like that. And mommy has had a hard time figuring it out. So she didn’t know how I would react. But I never had a doubt. It was like a dream come true. I knew at that exact moment that I would love you no matter what.”

You recalled that very moment.

-

It has been the best year of your life. Spencer was the man of your dreams. He cared about you. He loved you the way you never thought someone could love you. You were crazy in love with him. You would give him the world if you could.

But his hectic job worried you. You both have little time to spend together, and even if you didn’t show it, it scared you to death to think that something bad could happen to him in the field.

That’s why when you held the positive pregnancy test in your hand; you were about to freak out. What would happen now with a baby in their way?

“Something is wrong?” Spencer asked that night when you were dining. It was the moment to come clean and reveal the truth, but you lied. You said you were just tired.

Just after three excruciating weeks, you told him. And you didn’t know how he would react. But the moment you said “I’m pregnant,” it was like Spencer won the lottery. After checking if it was something you wanted, and you assured him it was unexpected but wanted, he wrapped his arms around you and promised he would do anything to live up to your expectations.

-

And he did. Spencer still has his job at the BAU, but he tries to be home more. During the pregnancy, he missed only one appointment, and it was because of the weather that he couldn’t fly back on time.

He was in the delivery room when the baby was born, and you saw the happy tears when he held his son for the first time.

Emily, his boss, has been very understanding and granted him almost two months of paternity leave. And now that he has come back to work, not a single day went by without a phone call when he was away. Maybe only two months passed, but you could tell Spencer is the best father your son could have.

“I hope you don’t resent me for being away so often. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you or want to be here with you. It is daddy’s job. And being away, there is no minute that I don’t think about you and your mom. I swear, you’re the world to me, and doing my job is how I can make a safer place for you. I promise not to get lost on it. I don’t want to be like my father. You deserve more than I got, you know?”

Your poor Spencer. If there is something that terrifies him, it’s to become like his father.

You could tell that it was a feeling that haunted him very often, no matter the times you reassured him that he wasn’t like his father.

-

You woke up hearing little whimpers coming from the living room. Your clock showed 2 AM. You didn’t expect Spencer to come home until the next day, so you were confused at first. Padding to the living room, you found Spencer silently crying on the couch.

“Spencer? What happened?” He quickly dried his tears with his shirt sleeve.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to wake up,” Spencer apologized, averting his gaze from you. Rubbing your twenty-six-week belly, you moved to sit beside him on the couch.

“Hey. Talk to me. What happened in the case?”

“I couldn’t save them. I tried. But I couldn’t. Did you know those kids were abandoned by their fathers? I failed them the same way their fathers failed them, and in the same way that my father failed me, and I’ll fail to my child,” Spencer sniffled, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“No, baby. None of that. You didn’t fail them. You did what you could do. What their fathers did to them it’s not your fault. The same thing your father did to you is not your fault either. And no, you will not fail our child. I’m sure of that. I’m proud of you, Spencer,” you pointed, grabbing his hand and putting it over your belly. “Your child is proud of you. He already knows his dad is a hero. And as long as you love him as much as I love you and him, everything will be fine.”

-

You heard Spencer chuckling.

“If your mother listened to me now, she would surely be scolding me. She hates when I have these self-deprecating thoughts. She is my first fan, you know? I’m so lucky. I still don’t understand how someone so extraordinarily like her could love someone like me. See? I’m doing it again,” Spencer noticed. He leaned down to see the baby yawning. “Oh, I see you’re tired now. Well, before you fall asleep, I’ll tell you a secret. I want to marry your mom. I want her to be my wife. Would you help me with that, my little one? How should I ask her? I mean, I’m sure I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to love her and protect her the same way I love you, and I want to protect you. But it seems mommy doesn’t want to marry. Not that she told me that before, but I heard her say that marriage is unnecessary and that we’re a family already. She’s right, but I want to make our love promise known to everyone. I want that the world knows that I love her until the end of time. What did you say? That I’m jealous? No! I trust her. But if a ring could make those flirty officers step back, I wouldn’t complain,” Spencer said, kissing the baby’s head.

You couldn’t help the giggle that left your mouth. You know Spencer wants to marry even if he had never popped the question. You didn’t tell him directly your thoughts about that either, but it’s true that when someone mentioned marriage before, you said that your commitment to your boyfriend and your son is greater than a ceremony or a ring.

You understand Spencer’s reasons, though. In the years you have been together, the most difficult thing has been that Spencer feels worthy of love. His insecurities always take the best of him, and in moments of despair, he always thinks that you will find someone who deserves you better. You both have improved on that with time, but sometimes he needs the reassuring.

You kept thinking about that when you heard Spencer stand from the rocking chair and put your sleepy boy in his crib again. Tucking him, he kissed his forehead.

“Sleep tight, my little one. Daddy loves you.”

That was your cue to turn in the bed and close your eyes.

When Spencer steeped in the room, he thought you were sleeping, so carefully he lifted the sheets and comforter and laid in bed.

It would have been so easy to say nothing and go back to sleep, but you couldn’t help it.

“Just to let you know. When you pop the question, my answer will be ‘yes,’” you mumbled, not moving from your spot.

You couldn’t see Spencer’s face, but you were sure he was perplexed.

“How…? You heard,” Spencer concluded, surely checking that the baby monitor was turned on.

“Yeah. It’s impossible to resist your magic words. Our son already knows that. And I have known for years by now. Now, go back to sleep before I change my mind.”

Quickly, Spencer kissed your temple before scooting to your side and holding you with an arm around your waist.

You will not change your mind. You wanted to make Spencer as happy as he makes you feel, but you knew that if you got a pillow talk now, you would regret it in the morning.

“I love you,” he dared to mumble before dozing off.

“I love you too. We love you,” you whispered, not being able to hide the satisfied grin on your face.

Life was good. Although the ups and downs. It was what you dreamed of and even further. Now you were ready for more.

------------------

All you could feel was exhaustion, exhaustion that lingered from the very tip of your skin to the rattling of your bones. The soft musk of Spencer’s scent filled the room so nicely, bringing you to an edge of calmness, you are home— with your love, your baby, your daddy.

You smiled as you tug your scarf down , placing it gently above the couch before you call out to the very man that owns your body and soul, “Spence?” the exhaustion was prominent in your voice, even though tried to brush it off.

“In here, kitten! wait a sec.” He yelled, jogging down from the kitchen to where you were sitting at the couch, He smiled tenderly with the kitchen towel perched on his shoulder, he looked so domestic, so much of the boyfriend-ness of him yet the way he holds himself is daddy, your daddy.

He immediately gathered you up on his arm, plopping down next to you and bring you to straddle his waist, “So pretty, so so pretty, i miss you, kitten.” He whispered, pressing a delicate kiss on your lips as his hand rest on your throat- the very side of your pulse.

You giggled a little, nipping his lower lip, pulling back only to whisper a tiny “i miss you..” kiss “daddy.” Heaven is what you are, he thinks. Because here he is, having the knowledge of everything, absolutely everything this word has to possibly offer yet.. nothing, nothing feel as complete as you. as having you perched on his lap, being good.. such a good little girl.

“Look at me.” His voice changed a little, it was deeper, huskier that it caused the sweet nectar flowing down south from the heat of your belly. God, your eyes snapped to his.. your socks covered feet tucked under his knees as he gently, just gently press his palm against your pulse, tightening his grasp— not enough to choke you yet enough to draw a pleasure filled gasp emitting from your sinful lips. “daddy—“

“Shush, been a good girl, haven’t you?” He cooed gently, his other hand slide itself around your waist to gently rub your back with calming warmth. “Uh huh.. The test went well today..” You murmured, eyes still focusing to his as you latched onto his strong arms.

You are 10 years his junior, you practically met when he was holding a lecture on the academy where you trained to be an agent.. an FBI agent just like him. The first gaze you laid upon each other, ignited the fire like no other, the desire and lust and.. gentle itching feeling of blossoming crush embedded deep inside both of your insides, practically screaming at yourselves to just.. get to know each other.

Getting to know each other, you did. It started off as a nervous filled dates, though he was a proper gentleman, bringing you on classic dates to libraries where you would borrow books you both haven’t read or something you just want to read and then reading it together on the window sill. Your first kiss was over a cup of coffee perched on the sill with Anna Karenina on your lap and Russian Literature on his, the kiss was magnificent that you were sure that if soulmates were real, he was— is your soulmate.

The first time you were intimate with each other was a rather cliche experience, cliche and romantic. After the 5th official date where he asked you to be his, you both went to his place which funnily was only a block away from where your apartment building sits. Rounds and rounds, you both savored the moment like you were made for each other; Ares & Aphrodite, Apollo & Calliope, Orpheus & Eurydice. The first one was gentle, desire filled love making against the bed, where he touched your skin like he touched your soul, where he kissed your lips like he kissed your fluttering heart, where he thrusts into you like a mad man, your mad man.

The next round varies, from the one where you were both on the edge of the bed when you accidentally slipped out the word “daddy.” which only made him thrust harder with an impossibly loud groans of “Call me that again—fuck!”. There was one where he choked you, fucking the soul out of you that you both ended up on the floor— not even bothering to stop by then. After the 4th round, you were both spent.. spent and absolutely basked in heavenly reality— reality that will always engulf you both.. Soulmates.

“You’ll nail it, i know you will, daddy knows best doesn’t he?” He chuckled, but his gaze darken, his grip tighten, and his head.. his head tilted in a mocking way, not mocking your ability of course but rather.. ‘Daddy Knows Best, Doesn’the?’ You knew then he found out, found your dirty dirty little secret that you tried to keep hidden (or at least for the most part)

You see, a week ago, Spencer left for a case— a pretty short one though you were desperate every time you separated from each other. You missed him so much, missed spencer but also.. you miss your daddy, your rock, your dominant. You missed his touch, missed his cock, missed his kisses, fuck you missed him so much that you were willing to break one of his most important rule. ‘No touching yourself without daddy’s sole permission, and no cumming without his permission too.’

You knew you could’ve asked, could’ve begged for him to make you cum over the phone but you couldn’t.. one part because you knew he was busy, and you had to wait at least until midnight to get him to call you.. but the other part of you, the nasty brat he calls it, was eager to be punished, to be settled back on its place. You craved the way his palm.. those genius palm slapped your ass and cunt raw until they sting so painfully that you knew you wouldnt be able to sit down tomorrow. You craved the way you were on the brink of consciousness as his hand choke your neck like he owns you.. and yeah.. he truly owns you.

So you did the most obvious, you touched yourself, you came without his permission, and you used the new vibrators he specifically asked you to not use it until he comes back. 3 rules broken and you were happy.. giddy about it. But know that he knew, you felt.. almost guilty, lust still covered you, the severe thrill still clouds you but you feel guilty, guilty that you have disappointed your daddy.

“Daddy, I—“

“Shh, Good girls gets to speak, Brats like you gets nothing.” He hissed, demeanor changed 180 as his grip tighten as much as he could and his palm goes from giving you calmness to slap your ass cheeks like you were his punching bag. You mewled and whined, before he hoist you up his arm, to move both of you to the bedroom.

“Gonna show you just what nasty desperate kittens like you get, gonna ruin you like a rag doll.” Thrown you into the bed like a rag doll is exactly what he did, you bounced a little before propping your body with your elbows to watch him sauntered over to the closer. “Was going to make you a nice dinner pet, romantic and shit, but you just had to be a slut.. for daddy huh?” He said from the closet, making you bit your lip in guilt.

“Please daddy, i’m sorry!”

“Told you to stay fucking quiet.” He rasped, pulling a few things from the closet, then making his way back to where you were laid, clothes already off. “But, i was just—“ He cuts you off by pinching your nipples hard as he placed a handcuff, a belt, and a gag— a ring gag to be exact.

“Since you can’t keep your filthy whore mouth shut, i’m going to place this—“ He grabbed the gag, carefully scurrying it around your head, “There you go, looking like a cute slutty brat that you are.” He pats your head, before securing the handcuffs around your wrist up above your head.

“Aw my baby drooling already? You’re practically begging to get your face fucked, princess.” He cooed, god he’s so different in private like this, he knows every one of your weak spots, every word that makes your heart leaps and your pussy clenched, every damn move and touches that have you begging for more, yearning for more, and being so needy over it. A man like Spencer, thrived in the feeling of having control over something for extensive amount of time, he doesn’t mind not being the typical alpha male on the streets, but here in his sheets every night— he’s the predator, and you my darling, is his frail prey.

The only thing you could let out is a pathetic mewl as he slapped the skin of your gorgeous breasts, his gaze hungry as he trailed them down your body, your gorgeous curves, it almost as if he’s worshipping every damn mark and inch of skin— silently thanking whoever made you possible for how your body just as it is.

“beautiful, could be eating you out right now, but you decided to be bad.” He tsk’d, causing you to whimper and buck your hips which he slapped your thigh for, “No buckin’ up on daddy. Be good.”

Be good,

Be good,

Be good, Y/N.

Suddenly, suddenly your eyes droops just a little, you were still so still you held in your breath, your cheeks warmth as you feel yourself entering the very very fuzzy space where the only thing that exists is Y/N and Daddy. Be good, she has to be good for him because she has disappointed him again for being a— your thought were cut short as he cup your cheek, noticing how your body language changes, your daddy always knows after all.

“Shh, you’re good princess. hey are you with me? want me to stop? take the gag off, little one?” He cooed, as you momentarily shake your head with such eager, gesturing for him that no.. no you don’t want him to stop, you did a bad naughty thing and you need to be punished. Spencer has spent all his time studying your behavior, your every little detail— expression, body language, every damn thing to know just what it is you want, you need, you.. crave.

“Alright but if you feel any discomfort you’ll tap daddy with your legs okay? you can even kick him, daddy won’t mind..” He chuckled, which earned a strangled laugh from you— “Oh go and speak now angel, love watching you all messy and drooly.” He laughed, before flipping you so that you were laid face down with your ass up as your hips being propped up by a pillow.

Crack!

So sudden , it was so sudden, the loud impact sound of his belt against your skin echoed on the very walls of your room. Your head thrown back as your saliva steadily running down your chin, your eyes breaming with tears, and you let out a very very adorable strangled cries. “Fuck, thats it, take it, take your punishment and maybe, just maybe daddy’ll be a little lenient towards you tonight.”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

You didn’t count, you lost track of how many times the harsh leather has hit your skin, now burning with tremendous guilt and burning lustful desire. Your tears soaked the pillow case like a damn river, yet he didn’t relent not until he felt like you’ve learned your lesson.

and honestly.. you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

-

“Pretty girl, so so good for daddy shh, come here.” He wrapped you up in his arms as he remove the gag and handcuffs altogether, you were a panting drooly mess as he presses tiny loving kisses on your forehead— body completely engulfing you in his warmth. “D-daddy.. am i.. am i forgiven?” You hiccups, looking up at him to seek for comfort.. for his forgiveness, his his his.

“Oh sweetheart, i wasn’t mad at you, was just putting you back on your place. You’re so so good for me.” he cooed, gently easing you up his lap, trailing his fingers from your hair down to your arms, your tummy, and heading further south. “I love you daddy... thank you for correcting me.”

Spencer could drown, drown inside your pretty eyes, just get lost in it forever, until he suffocates and die a happy man. He would be the prisoner in your version of heaven no doubt, he was never a religious man, but if there’s a higher power— it’s you, a damn goddess— his true revelation.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Let me take care of you okay?” He whispered, positioning you properly, your back against his chest, your head adorably tucked under his chin, and your thighs spread with his knees below yours. You were a giggling mess, hazy in your space but so so drunk on pleasure, “Please please please!” You whimpered greedily, trying to grind down on his bare cock.

“Patience is virtue, angel. Let’s get you nice and ready hm? know you’re too tight to take all of me.” He whispered, which resulted in you yelling— cutting him off a little way too loudly.

“But i can! i can take it, daddy! please let me show you!” God you didn’t know what you did to him, what your damn gorgeous eyes did to his psyche, to his cock. Begging like that, making him wants to ruin you, making him wants to release the very very hungry beast inside of him— ruin ruin ruin you oh so beautifully.

“Alright, you asked for it. Don’t go blabbing about being too full, you brat.” He smacked your thigh before positioning his hard, thick hard long cock on your entrance, slowly pushing his impossible length up your tummy. “Oh! oh oh! daddy!” You cried, cried and mewled like a kitten.

His length was not even halfway in and yet you were filled so fully that your head spins. “Take it, just a lil more, doing so good.” He rasps, feeling your cunt impossibly tight around his cock, warm and snug. “Please daddy...” You whimpered, not even know what the pleading was for but you pleads for him— with him.

When he finally got all his length stuffed deep inside your weepy cunt, his mouth nip and bite at the skin of your neck, trying to hold back the grunts as he moves slowly, thrusting up to your tight cunt.

“Fuck so damn tight, kitten.” You shuddered as the tip of his cock hit your spot perfectly, he was in so deep that all the sound that dripped from your lip was ‘ah! ah ah! d-‘

“Take it, take it, take it.” Was all he chanted as he settled you so you seated up right on his lap, before bouncing you up and down his length. Spencer was deeper this way, way way deep inside your walls, massaging every pulsing need you’ve held for awhile.

“So big! so— oh! please daddy faster!” You moaned wantonly, bouncing yourself up and down his cock, gasping as he places his palm on your tummy where the imprint his cock nestled deep inside you was so prominent that he cried out loud. “Feel it huh? feel it deep inside your tummy?”

“Yes yes yes oh fuck! S-Spencer!” You knew just how much he loves it when you moaned his name, so even in your fuzzy space, you moaned it, because you love him and he was practically fucking the living soul outta you. “I love you— fuck me i love you, gonna cum hm?” He whispered, moving his hand down, down down down then pressing his thumb on your clit to rub it.

“Daddy no! no i-i’ll make a mess!” Of course he knows this, knows that the burn on your ass constantly slapping against his thigh turns you on like nothing else, knows that his cock was filling you up so good that you could practically feel him inside your throat, knows that the rubbing of his thumb will have you squirting on his cock in no time.

“But daddy— shit, daddy wants you to make a mess, go on little one.. make a big mess.” And so you did, you did hard— squirting on his cock like river was streaming down your cunt, your walls pulses around his cock like a vibrator and the grip was like vice, sending him to absolute bliss himself— cumming inside you shortly after as you shake and writhe above him.

“I love you Y/N fuck— fuck i love you so fucking much.” He fucked you through your and his orgasm like a mad man, burying his face on your neck as his cum was buried inside your cunt. You were panting so hard, body still shaking as he leave trail of kisses on the column of your throat before tilting your head to kiss your lips softly.

“D-Daddy?” You meekly whispered, lips trembling as you spoke after he hummed, “can you stay inside? want to keep you inside please..”

And who’s Spencer Reid to deny his goddess’s wishes

-

He checked his watch. “It’s 7:45, Sophie. You need to start thinking about getting ready for bed.” She pressed a large book into his lap before hoisting herself onto the couch.

“It’s not a school night, it's Friday, so I'm allowed to stay up later,” his daughter reminded him.

“Fair enough, but have you brushed your teeth?

She blew gently in his face. “I’m minty fresh!”

“Did you finish your homework?”

She dropped her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Father, I’m offended you have to ask.”

“Hey now, watch your tone,” he scolded. Her sass came from both Mom and Dad, as well as her pouty face, which she was currently employing against him.

Spencer relented. “All right, I don't suppose a few chapters would hurt. What do we have here?” He hadn't noticed which book she'd brought. “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone? You don't need my help with this. You're reading at an eighth-grade level, Li’l Gourd.”

Sophie slid the illustrated hardback off his lap and flipped some pages.

“I know, Daddy. Tonight I'm reading to you because you're sad, and I always feel better when you read to me.”

Spencer knitted his brows. “Why do you think I'm sad, Sophie?”

She shrugged. “You’ve been extra quiet this week.”

“We're a family of introverts,” he chuckled. “Quiet is in our DNA.”

“The quieter on the outside, the louder on the inside,” Sophie noted. “I worry ‘bout you sometimes.”

A mother hen from day one, that kid.

"It's my job to worry about you, not the other way around,” Spencer told her as she called the dog up to join them.

“C’mere Boogie! C'mon!” He lithely jumped on Spencer's other side, shoving his snout under his arm.

"I'm just tired, kiddo. We ran around a lot this week, and I have papers to grade, and...”

He faltered when Sophie patted his arm comfortingly.

“It's okay, Daddy. I miss Mamma too. Don't worry, you're doing an excellent job on your own, but somebody’s gotta look after you.”

“Again, that’s my job.” Spencer tapped her nose lightly, gathered her in a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“Ready when you are, sweetheart.”

She rested the book across their laps and began reading. “Chapter One, “The Boy Who Lived.” Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

They got as far as “The Keeper of the Keys” before Sophie nodded off. Spencer moved the book to the coffee table. Not wanting to risk waking her on the walk to her room, he grabbed a throw pillow for himself and a blanket from the back of the couch. He nudged the dog with his feet, but he wouldn’t budge, electing to warm Spencer’s legs instead.

Sometime later he awoke to forehead kisses and fingers brushing back his hair. His eyes fluttered open, and after the sleep fog lifted he broke into a goofy grin that lit up his face.

“Hey!” he whispered. “I didn’t think you were coming back until Sunday!”

McKinley smiled down at him. “I know you meant for me to take Saturday for myself, to relax between the conference and coming home, but I couldn’t do it, so I caught an earlier flight.” She glanced at Sophie, barely visible under the blanket and snoring into Spencer’s neck. “Let’s put this one to bed, then we can talk,” she murmured, carefully removing their daughter’s glasses.

Once she was snuggled up with her stuffed dinosaur, they made their way to the master suite. McKinley rolled her suitcase to the foot of the bed. It could wait until morning. “So, I enjoyed Chicago,” she began, rummaging for pajamas, “but I was lonely away from you three, sleeping by myse-”

Her explanation got cut short when a pair of arms ­­­turned her around and squeezed her tightly. Ah, a legendary Spencer hug. He followed with a soft kiss on her lips – not a sexy times kiss, but a sweet, simple, ‘I love you’ one.

McKinley giggled into Spencer’s mouth. “Miss me?”

He held her face in his hands. “You have no idea,” he breathed, gazing so intensely she feared she’d melt.

“Careful. If you keep staring at me that way, we’ll end up with baby number three,” she joked.

“It’s not that, I…you’re amazing.” She blushed and lowered her eyes. Spencer tilted her head up. “I’m in awe of you. This week was exhausting. Morning and nighttime routines, breakfast and dinner and packed lunches, different pickup and drop-off times, piano and karate lessons, homework, laundry…Only one week of this, plus teaching, and I’m about to collapse. You managed two full-time jobs, alone, for nearly four years. I hope I haven’t taken you for granted.”

McKinley’s jaw dropped. “No, you haven’t,” she replied tearfully. Her eyes floated to the pictures on the vanity: family photos, baby pictures, and one of everybody – the whole team and their families – from a year ago. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” he said without hesitation, “never, not even for a second.”

A month before that picture was taken, flights were grounded in Spokane due to weather, and Spencer had to listen to “Home on the Range” over the phone. He apologized to Sophie later. “It’s okay Daddy,” she answered. “You caught the bad guy. That’s what matters.”

That’s what matters. No. He couldn’t have his kids growing up thinking they were anything less than first in his life. So, he called it. Spencer and McKinley fought and cried in their bathroom, shower and fan running to drown themselves out. She supported him, but knew leaving the BAU for a 9-to-5 would suffocate him.

She proposed a compromise. Now he split his time between Quantico, consulting from Penelope’s bat cave, and giving lectures at the FBI Academy and universities around DC. He came home every night.

“I’m gonna wash the airplane stink off. When I come back, I’m finishing what Sophie started: reading away your sads.”

Spencer pressed his forehead to hers. “How’d you know?”

“Who do you think she practiced with first?” she asked, sauntering towards the bathroom.

“All men are children, and of one family. The same tale sends them all to bed, and wakes them in the morning.” Henry David Thoreau

“An nì chì na big, ‘s e nì na big.” Scottish proverb