#switch!spencer

It was the middle of the day and Spencer was at work while you were at home in your shared bedroom. You were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone mindlessly. You had texted Spencer a few minutes ago, and were expecting him to reply any second now. 

Spencer: How’s your day, sweetheart?

As his name popped up on the screen, and quickly read over his text with a smile before responding. 

You: Boring without you

You type, before hitting the send button.

S: Could make that better when I get home.

S: I miss you.

You read over his text and raise your brow as you sit up slightly under the covers

Y: How would you do that?

A few seconds pass as his text bubble disappears and reappears a few times. 

S: Shouldn’t I save that for when I see you?

Y: Maybe I’m a little impatient.

S: I’ll make it worth your wait.

Y: Please? I’ll be good.

Your message makes him chuckle lightly, and his eyes flicker to the room around him to make sure no one else is paying attention to him before his fingers quickly scatter to reply. 

S: Your begging isn’t going to get you anywhere, sweetheart. Just wait for me to get home.

You sighed and thought to yourself for a moment before quickly unraveling your shirt from off your body. You open the camera and snap a picture of you in your bra in bed and send it to him. 

Y: Attachment: 1 Image.

Y: Waiting is boring.

His eyes widened almost immediately upon seeing the photo, and he looked around once more. Once he found the coast was clear he lowered his brightness and hunched over a bit on his desk, trying to hide his phone under the surface. 

S: Can’t you do something to entertain yourself before I get home? 

He couldn’t let you know how much this simple photo was affecting him, so he opted for just teasing you instead. Although, you were in no mood for it. 

Another minute passes, and he is impatiently awaiting your response. Although, when it comes through, he had wished you hadn’t sent it at all. 

Y: I can think of a few things 

Y: Attachment: 1 Image.

Another photo from you pops up on his screen, and this time you’re no longer wearing your shirt, or your shorts. You’re left in just your bra and panties as you bite your lip and look at the camera. Spencer can feel how lightheaded he gets the second his eyes graze over the pixels. The blood rushed from his head straight to his stiffening cock, making his pants entirely too tight. 

He bites his lip and shakes his head before typing frantically. 

S: God, you’re beautiful. How am I supposed to wait until I get home when you’re sending me pictures like this?

S: I’m going to have to excuse myself for a little while if you keep distracting me.

Standing up from his desk, he makes up some bullshit excuse to everyone else about a “very important business call”, as he quickly scurries off to an empty office and quickly locks the door. Before you can even respond, you see his contact pop on screen as he was calling you. You pick up, and his voice is quiet and rushed as he speaks to you. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He sounds breathless already, and you’d smile if not for the soft and airy moan you let out just from hearing the sound of his voice.

“Hi, Spence..”

 You can hear his breath hitch, and you know that your voice affects him just as much as his. He swallows and sighs before murmuring in a slightly trembling voice. 

“You don’t know how difficult you’re making things right now, baby. You know how badly I want to come home and take care of you, but I can’t.” 

You placed the phone on the bed stand next to you and ran your hands over your skin as you spoke. Teasing fingers run down your stomach and into the top of your panties as you all but ignore his words.

“Where would you touch me?”

Spencer gasped lightly and glanced around the empty room, as if someone were there listening along with him.

“Jesus, sweetheart, stop, please..”

His husky voice only turned you impossibly further, and you ran a hand down to your underwear, teasing yourself. He sounded positively desperate for you, and you could almost laugh knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You know he’d be standing in that little office, legs shaking and cock painfully hard in his dress pants, while you were home laying in bed with three fingers buried inside yourself. 

“But it’s fun..”

He moaned, biting his lip so that he didn’t make too much noise. He looks down towards the bulge in his pants, and stops himself from reaching down and palming himself through the tight fabric. Instead, he clears his throat and tries his best to form a full sentence. 

“And what’s stopping me from telling you to stop doing that?” 

Your breath hitched as you touched yourself. Your voice sounded breathless as you moaned through the phone and it drove him crazy just to think about what you were doing right now. How he wasn’t there to please you himself, it made him all the more frustrated to be stuck at work.

“Y-You’re not here.. You’ve got work to do, Spence. I can do whatever I want..”

Spencer groans and trudges his way over to an office chair sat behind a wooden desk, letting out a soft sigh as he sits down and reaches a tentative hand down over his pants.

“You just like teasing me too much, hm?”

Long fingers run over the expanse of his bulge, and he moans softly at the feeling. You nodded to yourself and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your touch.

“Mhm.. I know how badly you need me right now, isn’t that right?”

He groaned again, gripping the phone so hard that you could hear a small creek. His other hand was preoccupied too, gently running the pads of his fingers over his own clothed cock, teasing himself the same way you would. 

“God, yes.. I need you right now, baby.”

You smile as you bite your lip and throw your head back in the soft pillow. You slickened fingers carded through your soaked folds, pushing them around and spreading your arousal all over yourself. 

“Too bad you’re at work and I’m stuck here touching myself, wishing it was you instead..”

Spencer shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the chair as his hand subconsciously squeezed himself through his pants, feeling just how heavy and hard he was underneath the pathetic fabric. He was really trying to maintain his composure, but you were making it impossible. 

“You have no idea how hard you’re making this for me right now.”

Your middle finger swirls over your hole for a short moment before you sink it into yourself, eyes crossing at the feeling of it pushing into your silky walls, just as he would. 

“You–oh fuck–You should get back to work, hm..?”

He could hear the slick gush of your cunt around your fingers, and almost slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a loud moan. He had a love-hate relationship with how you could control him so easily. 

He didn’t want to get back to work. He wanted to drive home and fuck you until the sky turned bright again.

“Please, sweetheart, stop. You need to stop doing this..” 

He begged, his voice sounding desperate and pleading with you. But despite his begging, his trembling hand still found the zipper of his pants, pulling it down and exposing his underwear to the empty room.

You ignored his pleas as you sunk another finger alongside the previous one, feeling the slight stretch inside of you. 

“Need you so badly, sir..”

He gritted his teeth, trying so hard not to lose control over the phone, especially in the office. 

“Baby, please” He tried again, taking deep breaths. “You have to stop..” He said, his voice sounding more pleading and strained. However his actions betrayed his words. The more he spoke the closer he was to freeing his leaking cock from his underwear. 

His hand reached down and pulled the soaked fabric of his boxers down under his length, and pulled the heavy shaft out of its confines. Looking down he could see how shiny the head was from the precum already, and bit his lip when he saw another clear sticky drop spurt from the tip. 

“I-I can’t.. can’t stop. Feels so fucking good, sir.”

Spencer groaned and bit his lip, trying to sound stern, but obviously failing.

“Sweetheart, I need you to stop. You’re going to make this incredibly difficult for me to keep working today. Please.. You have to stop.”

It was a pitiful attempt at trying to get you to stop, he knew. You had him exactly how you wanted him and he was completely helpless in this situation. He had a very weak will where you were concerned.

“I know you don’t want me to stop.. I know how badly you want to touch yourself right now to the sound of me.” Your voice was whiny as you teased him.

He swallowed and shook his head, almost in shame. 

“A-Already am..” 

His gaze lowered to his cock, his fist wrung tightly around the base as he stopped himself from exploding all over himself, staining his work attire and already embarrassing himself more than he already felt like he had. 

“Show me.”

Your voice is gravelly as you tell him, wanting so badly to see the cock you wished was inside of you instead of your fingers. They were nothing compared to the way his large girth never failed to mold around him and leave you feeling entirely stretched out. 

He’s silent for a moment, almost as if to process what you were asking of him, and you always knew he was nervous about taking photos or videos of himself intimately, but you also knew he’d do it as long as you told him just how amazing he looked. He thrived off of your praise. 

“I bet you’re so hard right now, aren’t you sir?”

You can hear him shuffling around in his seat for a bit before he grunted in response.

“You can thank yourself for that.”

You curl your fingers up into you and whimper at the feeling. The surface of your thighs is covered in a thin layer of sweat and slick, and you wish more than anything that he was here to lick it up. With a strained voice, you call to him again.

“Answer the question, Spence.”

He was having extreme difficulty with speaking through his heavy breathing.

“Yes, sweetheart. God, yes..” 

A notification from him suddenly causes your phone to buzz, and you involuntarily moan at the preview image. When you clicked on it, a photo of Spencer sat in his chair popped up. His pants were unzipped and only pulled down enough to expose his cock. The same one that was absolutely dripping with precum and looking painfully hard, if the protruding veins and red glistening tip gave anything away. 

His large hand was fisted at the very base of his length, squeezing it so tight you could see the muscles in his hand strain. His hair was covering one of his eyes, which were staring at the camera with a look full of absolute desperation and need. Spencer’s mouth was slightly dropped open, having captured the photo whilst he was mid moan. 

Everything about him looked positively beautiful, nothing short of utterly ruined for you. 

“Fuck..” 

Is all you were able to say, barely audible and breathy as it left your lips. You could hear him chuckle lightly on the other end of the line, and you were far too entranced to say something that would wipe that smirk right off his face. 

“I need you so bad right now, baby.”

He breathed in a low, strained voice. The grip he had on himself started to move up and down the shaft, squeezing the life out of his cock to simulate only a third of the absolute bliss you always engulf him in. 

The fact that you could hear how aroused he was, only made you fuck yourself faster and faster. You could hear the lewd wet noises as he fucked into his fist, dripping with so much precum that he was sliding in and out of the tight hole like it was no problem. 

“Need you inside of me so badly, Spence.. Fuck..”

Your voice broke out in a whimper, adding a third finger to your puffy hole and gaping your mouth at the stretch. Your walls molded around the digits as they piston up against the silky walls of your cunt. 

Upon hearing your approaching orgasm in your voice, Spencer bows his head down and moves his hand quicker and quicker. The hand holding the phone is shaking from how hard he’s gripping onto it, and how quickly he’s being brought to his peak. 

He chokes on a moan and speaks, needing to hear more of your sweet voice before he absolutely explodes in his fist. 

“God, sweetheart..” He breathed out heavily. “This is killing me.. I’m so lucky you didn’t send that while I was in the office.”

You giggled through a moan and slowed down the cant of your fingers, needing to prolong this as long as you could take.

“Why..? Hm? Don’t want your coworkers seeing me touching myself for you?”

He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“I could care less what they see, baby.” He admitted. “I just don’t want them to see me.” He added, smirking.

“You don’t want them seeing you all hot and bothered because of me? Knowing just how hard you are underneath your desk?” Your tease as your hands speed up once more. You knew him all too well. 

How hard he’d blush and how wide his eyes would go if you had sent him a video of you fucking yourself in his absence. His mouth would go dry, and the teeth of his zipper would threaten to pop if he hadn’t excused himself within the next second. 

All of his colleagues would notice, questioning why he was so red, why he was holding his phone so close to his chest, and why he was pushed so close to the edge of his desk. 

You bit your lip in a smile just thinking about how much he’d stammer out an excuse before practically sprinting to the nearest restroom to fuck his fist until he coated his fingers.

But thank god he was smart enough to call you before you got any ideas. 

He inhaled sharply when you described it like that. It felt downright dirty, just thinking about all of his friends and coworkers making fun of him for getting sent nudes during work hours, and not being able to focus on anything else but those images on the darkened screen of his.

“God–god—yes, sweetheart. They’d tease me for hours if they knew what you were doing.. I’m so lucky you’re mine, I love you so much, baby please.”

His words only further spurred you on, and he knew you had a thing for praise. So with each sweet word he murmured to you, it made you moan louder and louder, quickly pushing you to your limit as you were already spurting your arousal all over your fingers.

“F-Fuck.. I-I love you, too.. Spence.”

As you continued to touch yourself to the sound of his voice, you felt your legs begin to shake as you were rapidly approaching your peak. His breathing was heavy and shaky as he felt the same burn in the pit of his stomach, urging him to keep going and never stop. 

“S-Spence.. I-I’m..Fuck.”

“Yes, yes sweetheart. God.. You’re doing so well.” He murmured. “Do you need me?” He teased as he twisted his palm over the gushing head of his cock, the sensation making him roll his eyes back into his head and groan.

Your mouth drops in a loud moan and through the burn of the stretch, you could feel another rush of red hot heat quickly washing over you. 

“More than anything..”

Another low moan escaped his throat at your words, but he stayed silent for a moment or two.

“I need you too, baby. You don’t understand. No one loves you like I do, no one touches you like I do, and no one fucks you like I do..” His voice sounded hoarse and strained, his breaths heavy like he was holding himself together by a thread at the moment now.

Your eyes go crossed and roll back into your skull as his words, and you whimper pathetically. You were so close it was almost unfair.

“Need you more than anything.. Please.. please please.. I’m so close, sir please.” Your begging doesn’t stop as you’re pushed further and further over the edge, so close to pouring over. Your pleas quickly proved to be far too much for him, because before you can even finish your sentence, you can hear a loud raspy moan from the other line. 

Spencer writhed in the chair, body trembling and hands shaking, teeth gritted in a feeble attempt to hush himself. The fist working his cock squeezes tightly at the base before quickly shooting up to the head, making him jolt in pleasure as he spurts over the top of his hand. His mouth drops in an ear shattering whimper as he feels all of his pent up need and desperation for you quickly rush down the surface of his skin. 

As you hear him reach his peak, you chase after him closely. Your fingers brush across the pad of your sweet spot, and you’re letting out an equally loud moan as you gush around your fingers. Your thighs jolt around your hand, and you throw your head back against a pillow as your orgasm floods through your body. 

A few silent moments pass where Spencer is panting in the phone, eyes tightly knit shut as his cum drips down his hand. He can’t hear anything from your side, and he blinks a few times before swallowing and speaking in a shaky voice. 

“Sweetheart? A-Are you okay?” 

He looks around the office for something to clean himself up with, and places the phone down on the table when he spots a box of tissues. He takes one, and winces at the feeling of slight overstimulation when the rough material brushes against the underside of his head. 

Once he had rid himself of his sin and zipped himself back up, he picked up the phone again and tried to repeat himself. 

“H-Hello? Baby, are y–” 

“Come home. Now.”

Your tone was serious and demanding, almost daring him to say no. His mouth runs dry and he swallows, nodding to nobody but himself.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” 

You don’t say another word as you hang up the phone, and Spencer takes a few heavy breaths before shoving his phone into his pocket and trying his best to fix his hair. He knows his skin is twinged a sinful shade of pink, and there’s no doubt small droplets of sweat are running down his neck, but he didn’t care about anything else about coming home to you. 

He quickly readjusts his tie, and takes a long breath as he opens the door to the office and steps out of it. He walks over to his desk and picks up everything he needs, sloppily shoving it into his bag. 

Spencer’s mind is so focused on you and only you, that he almost doesn’t hear the teasing remark thrown his way by one of his coworkers. 

“Phone call with the missus?” 

Without even looking at whoever the speaker was, he blushes and frantically finishes packing up before making his way to the elevator. 

You’re inside waiting on the couch; your cat Jinx curled up into your lap as you watch a rerun of Law and Order.

“Hey!” You greet as Spencer sets his bags down on the table. “How was your day out on the town?”

“It was fun!” Spencer smiles, seating himself on the couch next to you. “We got Penelope a nice pair of very flamboyant high heels.”

“I’m sure she’ll love them.”

“Oh,” Spencer interrupts his train of thought. “I-I actually got you um something. You don’t have to like it or keep and if you want to return it I understand—“

“Spencer.” You laugh. “Just slow down for a little bit, okay? I’m sure I will love whatever you got me.”

“Okay.” He nods, retrieving the box from his messenger bag.

You eye the box in his hand curiously. “Y-you know how you h-have uh your n-nipples pierced?” He stammers. You nod. “W-well, I was in a store, and I saw these, and I-I thought they were um nice for your nipples— f-for you!”

“Okay, now I’m curious as to why you were even in a store that sells nipple jewelry, but I’m sure my question can wait.” You grin. “Now show me the damn thing.”

Spencer’s shaky fingers open the box, revealing two silver nipple rings. They’re lightweight but not fragile, and they even glimmer in your dingy apartment lighting.

“Woah, Spence. These are beautiful.”

“Really?” His voice is both surprised and skeptical. “You like them?”

“Absolutely. These are so much nicer than the ones I have now. I don’t even want to know how much these things costed because damn!”

Before Spencer can relish in his accomplishment, you’re sliding your T-shirt off your torso, tossing it to the side—bare chest and jewelry-cladded nipples on full display for Spencer. He feels oddly voyeuristic watching your bare form, already turned on without the implication of any sexual gratification.

“Let’s put them on!” You suggest, taking the box from Spencer’s hands. “Or, do you wanna do it for me?”

He shakes the images clouding his mind— rolling your nipple between his fingers as he kisses down your neck, sucking on them as you work your hand up and down his shaft— he’s fucked.

“S-sure.” He stutters.

“You have to take them out very gently, okay? And then we can slip these new ones in, sound good?”

“Uh huh.” Spencer mutters, all too focused on your tits.

His dexterous fingers carefully pull out the gold piercing, setting them aside in the box so as not the lose them. He makes it a point to accidentally caress your boob, emphasis on accidentally, even though you know he’s having too much fun with this.

By the time both of the previous rings are removed, Spencer forgets what he’s even supposed to be doing, too occupied with massaging and pawing at your breasts lightly.

“Spencer, baby.” You smile. “Are you gonna put the new ones in?”

That seems to snap him out of his trance, “Oh y-yeah.”

You understand why your boyfriend’s an engineer when he swiftly and nimbly placed the new rings through your nipples with ease. He looks pleased with his work (and your breasts), opting to take a long gander at them.

“You know,” You push his back onto the couch, climbing on his lap. “I’m starting to think you bought me these so that you’d have an excuse to touch my boobs.”

“Ah, you caught me.” Spencer feigns disappointment. “At least my plan sort of worked.”

It was a silly little slip-up that could happen to anyone. At least that’s what you tell him.

It was Anderson’s fault; he couldn’t find a dogsitter that day, so he brought in his brand new puppy to the office. Around lunch time, he started showing off all of the new tricks he taught him, and a small crowd had gathered outside of the break room to watch the adorable chocolate-coated labrador bounce around. 

Anderson handed you one of Scrappy’s dog bones and let you try commanding one of the tricks he learned.

“Scrappy, turn over!” you got onto your knees and waved the treat in front of the puppy’s face, and sure enough, he rolled over. “Good job, Scrappy!” you squealed, and at your excitement, the little ball of energy climbed your lap, pawing at your shoulders and licking your face. You giggled, scratching his fur, “Who’s a good boy, Scrappy? Who’s a good boy?” 

Spencer, who missed the entire beginning of that situation, walked right out of the break room just then, taking a sharp left turn. At first, he only saw you, kneeling on the floor with your back to him, as you cooed, “Who’s a good boy?” 

He smiled, giddy inside at hearing the pet name you kept for him in private, and bent down to press a kiss on your cheek, “I am!”

You whipped your head around, jaw dropping at him. “Spence…” you winced.

“What?” he pouted cutely, sticking his bottom lip out exaggeratedly. “I am, aren’t I?” 

Your eyes flicked to the side and he followed. Sure enough, to the right hand side of the door, was a gathering of your colleagues all holding back laughter. Derek’s whole fist was in his mouth to stifle his need to scream out, and Emily’s lip turned white with how hard she bit down on it. Everyone else was in a similar state, and Spencer’s face turned white. 

He spent the entire day unable to live that moment down. Each time he did something, like help Derek find a reference he was looking for or turn in a form to Hotch (yes, even Hotch), he saw them physically restrain themselves from blurting it out to him. Emily and Penelope didn’t even try to hold back. 

On the whole drive home, he kept his head in his hands, silently screaming into his palms as you tried to assure him it wasn’t a big deal. 

By the time you get into bed, he still hasn’t gotten over it. He sat through dinner, read his book, and took his pre-bedtime shower all while thinking about it. And now, he can’t even cuddle you like normal because he’s so wrapped up in the thoughts of every embarrassing thing he’s ever done playing in his head. 

“Spencer,” you complain, wrapping your arms around his waist tighter. He’s neglecting to hold you in return; his eyes are glued to the ceiling. You can tell where his head is at, and groan as you sit up. 

“Spencer, look at me,” you move to straddle his lap, bending over him to bring your face close to his as you cup his cheek. “It’s fine.”

He lets out an incoherent mumble, something you know to be self-pitying, and you ignore it as you start kissing his neck. His words eventually trail off as you begin rolling your hips down on him while nipping at his skin. You smile to yourself, hoping he’s feeling a little better now, but when you look up at his face he’s still pouting with big, sad eyes.

“Aw, baby,” you coo, pecking his pouting lips. “So what if you let our little secret slip today? It’s okay,” you reassure, rubbing your palm over the sides of his torso. “You just wanted everyone to know how good you are for me.” 

You smile, putting your hand under his tee and finding your way to his chest. The fabric bunches up on your wrist as you move your hand up, and you lower your head to kiss his newly exposed skin.

“You’re such a good boy,” you sigh between kisses, “and everyone should know it.” It’s working to relax him a little. Spencer’s hands wrap around your back, a small whine bubbles in his throat. “They should know you’re my good boy.” 

Your voice gets stern as you remember the others in the office calling him your pet name. Even if they were just teasing, no one gets to call him that but you. “Did you like it when everyone called you a good boy today?” you drip jealousy, tugging his hair to force him to look at you. “I bet you got a real kick out of that. All those pretty girls telling you you’re a good boy.” 

A small cry escapes his lips as you kiss him roughly, twisting his strands in your fingers. 

“N-no. I promise,” he pants as you move to his neck. 

“Are you sure?” you ask into his ear, grinding down on his hardening dick. “Because I think my little slut liked that.” 

His grip tightens on your hips as you begin rocking back and forth. Your hand moves to his throat, wrapping around as you squeeze, very lightly, around him. “I think they need a reminder, you’re good only for me.” 

He nods as much as he can with your fingers restricting his movement. “Only for you.” 

“Maybe I’ll buy you your own little collar,” you snicker, rolling forward to match his desperate little thrusts. “Have everyone know you’re my little pet.” 

He groans at the joke you couldn’t help but to make. It was just too easy. You giggle in his ear, releasing your hold on his throat to travel down his body and palm at his erection. He grabs your wrist, pulling it away from him as he flips you, putting you on your back with him on top. 

You gasp at how quickly he changed your situation, using his knee to knock your legs apart as he nestles perfectly between them. With just a few gracious waves of his hips, putting friction right at the perfect spot in your center, he has you mewling under him. 

Your hands come down to his hips, pressing him closer to you and urging his rocking to go deeper, give you more friction. But he removes them again, using one large hand to pin both your wrists above your head. You strain against his hold, not believing he’d truly deny you of touching him, but he does. His grip remains firm and he lifts his hips away from yours, leaving you whining.