Hi can you do one where the reader is cute and sweet but is also unintentionally sexy. Like the things she does and says and some of the guys get all hot and bothered by it. You can choose the pairing if you want. Also can there be smut?
SURPRISE SMUT! I’ve gotten a few comments on how there hasn’t been any recently, so I decided to pull one from my drafts.
Keep in mind, this is a LONG story to cover everything properly. Edited to say: Yikes. Really long. Hopefully it’s alright.
I hope you guys enjoy the surprise. Here is your Spencer Reid smut pairing, comin’ ‘atcha!
Maybe it was the way your bosom bounced whenever you laughed heartily that made Derek bite his lower lip.
Or maybe it was the way you took particular care in how you looked, down to the hair, that made Rossi smile big whenever you decided to sit a little too close to him in the briefing room.
Maybe it was the way you always looked Hotch in his eyes whenever you spoke, never quite intimidated by him as your soft words tumbled from your lips whenever the two of you were talking that made his eyes light up behind his tired bags.
Or maybe it was your colorful clothing, always matching but never out of style that even made Garcia turn her head every once in while whenever you walked away.
Whatever it was about your unintentional beauty, it didn’t go unnoticed by the women in the room…all of them studying you hard to try and figure out how you could entice an entire room of some of the most powerful men…
…and be absolutely oblivious to the fact.
Spencer, however, was especially drawn to you. The way you tucked your hair behind your ear whenever you were concentrating, or the way you rolled your hair and stuck it with a colorful chopstick whenever you were getting frustrated that made him chuckle to himself.
He was taken by the way you would crinkle up your nose when you would laugh, and even snort whenever you began to lean back and guffaw.
But there was one day where he was absolutely entraced with you.
And you were actually at your worst.
Running off of the elevator, your still-drying hair drenching the collar of your crop-top shirt as your waist-high white-washed jeans morph to your scurrying legs, your flip flops trip you up as you catch yourself on the glass doors, your lukewarm coffee tumbling from your hands as it goes crashing to the floor.
The entire team jerked their heads up before all of the men came running in your direction.
“Y/L/N, you alright?” Morgan asks as he dips down, helping you to your feet as he sees your scuffed-and-bleeding toes.
“Is something wrong?” Rossi asks, his brow furrowed in concern as he takes in just how disheveled you are.
Your hands were shaking as you fumbled with your glasses on your face.
“Hotch…” you breathe as you look around, his chest swelling with pride a bit at the fact that you wanted him in such a needing time.
“Y/N,” he says deeply, his hands wrapping around yours as he tries to steady your trembling fingers, “what’s wrong?”
It was the first time you had ever talked to him and not met his gaze.
As Spencer stands in the background, watching his teammates rescue you as he makes you a fresh coffee in the kitchenette, Garcia comes shuffling up to him as you talk lightly in the background about whatever it was that was bothering you.
Spencer didn’t want to crowd you anymore than they were.
“Makin’ her a fresh one, I see,” Garcia smirks.
“Hers fell,” he mumbles to himself.
“And you know how she takes it,” Garcia observes.
“Mhm,” Spencer says absent-mindlessly.
“Why haven’t you told her?” she asks.
“Told her what?” Spencer breathes in annoyance.
“That you like her, and that the attention the other guys gives her makes you jealous,” Garcia muses through her smirk.
It was then that you came shuffling lightly around the corner as he hears you sigh heavily.
“Here,” Spencer says as he holds up a mug to you.
You furrow your brow lightly before slowly looking up into his eyes.
“Figured you could use some,” Spencer smiles tautly.
“What gave it away,” you breathe bitterly, taking the mug from him as Spencer’s shoulders slump slightly.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters before backing out of the kitchenette.
“Wait, Reid-”
But before you could catch him, he had sunk himself into his chair and disappeared behind a book.
The day was long.
There wasn’t enough coffee in the world to bring you back from the clouds.
The men hovered around you all day, asking you if you wanted to talk or needed anything…
…but the one guy that you wanted around you kept his distance.
You couldn’t get his eyes out of your mind. How they made your palms sweat. You couldn’t quit looking up at him and fixating on his lips…and how they would feel against the hardening peaks against the excess padding of your bra.
How you hated your existence with this condition.
Medically, it was called a Hypersexual Disorder. The problem was, that’s also how they diagnosed sex addicts.
And you were no addict.
In fact, you had made it a point, after you doctor discovered that your hormones were imbalanced because of your chemically overactive libido, to stay away from it all together.
But every so often it would kick up. Despite the medication you took everyday for balancing your natural hormone levels, the surge of hormones around this time of the month would sometimes flip that switch, and the thoughts alone would keep you up at night. You would wake, time after time, multiple times a night, in the middle of an orgasm…gasping in your bed without so much as a hair stroking your skin.
And while many people would find that exhilarating…it kept you from sleeping well.
Which made you tired.
Which made you clumsy.
Which made you feel like you ewre losing control.
To compensate, you controlled your surroundings: how your hair was placed on your head, how your outfit was laid out on your body, how your make-up sat on your face. It was compulsive, but it helped you to combat the helpless feelings you were angry at whenever this…condition…reared its head.
But little did you know that as you were squirming in your seat, the back of your neck sweating as your nipples started to become painful, that Spencer was subtly studying you from across the room.
And he saw the fear rising in your eyes.
“Does anyone know what’s wrong with Y/N?” he asks as he eyes everyone around him.
“No, she wouldn’t talk about it,” J.J. mumbles as she fiddles with something on his desk.
But when he watched you get up, grasping your bag as you turn your back and give everyone a clear look at the sweat staining your shirt, he sees you rush out of the room and run for the stairwell as he begins gathering his things quickly.
“Reid?” Hotch calls from his office as he cranes his neck, his boss emerging from the room as he looks down onto his team.
“Make sure she’s alright,” he says before nodding towards the glass double doors.
Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he had ever run so fast.
Panting as you drop your bag in your kitchen, you begin ripping your clothes from your body as you toss them in your dirty clothes hamper, your scent and sweat mingled together wafting up to your nose as your nostrils flare.
“Shit,” you whimper as tears rise to your eyes.
You had done so well. 11 months without an episode!
What happened…?
Throwing a loose-fitting nightgown over your body, you hear a loud knock at the door before stopping in your tracks.
“Y/N! Open up!”
Spencer?
Furrowing your brow as you swallow thickly, you close your eyes as your core begins to pulsate.
“No no no no no…” you whisper as you shake your head and close your eyes.
You needed time alone.
Time alone to fix this.
“Y/N!” he yelps as he begins banging again, “I’m taking your door down if you don’t open it!”
It was the severity…and the desperation…behind his words that caused you to stride in frustration over to the door and whip it open.
“What?” you breathe as your angry eyes shoot daggers at the man unknowingly barging in on time that you truly needed to be alone for.
Taking stock of your body: your dilated pupils, your shallow breathing, your puckered nipples poking through your nightgown, your trembling fingertips…
Spencer was slowly putting a few of the pieces together.
“What!?” you say a little harsher, your voice returning as you watch Spencer’s adam’s apple bob up and down.
It was enough to drive you wild.
“You need to leave,” you choke out, going to shut the door as Spencer sticks his foot in the doorway.
“Just…answer one question,” Spencer inquires lightly.
Sighing heavily, you lean against the door as you press your forehead into the cool wood.
“Ok…” you breathe.
“Is there anyway I can help you?” he asks.
Did he even understand what he was asking?
“Damn it,” you whisper, whipping the door open and grabbing Spencer’s tie.
Ripping him into the house, you slam the door with a thud as you rip his messenger bag over his head, your hands rushing up under his cardigan as you plow your lips into his.
Spencer’s body pulled taut before working his arms between the two of you.
“Whoa whoa, just-…ho-…Y/N!”
Stumbling backwards as tears rise to your eyes, you turn your back on him as your cheeks redden in shame.
“Get out,” you whisper.
“Y/N-” Spencer begins.
“Get out,” you say a bit harsher.
“Hey!” he demands, grasping your arm and ripping you around.
The tears running down your face ached his soul.
“Are you an addict?” he asks, looking you straight into your eyes as you sigh heavily, his profiling of your every move settling together in his mind as his heart leaps out to you.
He needed to know he wasn’t fueling an addiction.
“No,” you whisper.
Watching him step into you as tears continue to drip down your cheeks, you feel his hands cup your face as he tilts your gaze back up to his.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” he pleads, his lips closing in on yours as your knees begin to shake.
“Shame,” was all you could chance to breathe.
“Never be ashamed,” Spencer whispers, his lips ghosting over yours as it pulls another whimper from your throat.
“Never be ashamed,” he breathes, almost silently, before connecting his lips to yours again.
Automatically parting yourself for him, your arms draping around his neck as his hands slide to your waist, you feel your painfully puckered nipples rake across his clothing as your hands drop down and begin pulling at the hems of his clothes.
Soon, the two of you are bared for each other, stumbling down the hallway as the two of you bump into walls and collide with doors, trying to find your room as the two of you go falling onto the plush carpet of your home, his lips kissing and nipping down your body as his puckered, luscious pout leave marks for you to relive in the morning.
His breath against your center caused your shoulders to lift off of the floor as he licks up your slit, your legs draped over his shoulders as his long arms reach up and massage your sore breasts.
Your clit was so swollen with need that it had peeled its own hood back.
Without a word exchanged, Spencer begins his work, licking and sucking the bud as obscene moans and groans burst forth from your throat, a cascade of warmth and goosebumps prickling your body as he flattens his tongue out over you, causing you to grind down hard as your hands wrap tightly in his hair.
You couldn’t even get Spencer’s name out, your orgasm crashing into you so hard it pushed tears from the depths of your eyes.
Shaking and gyrating at his every flutter, Spencer continues his artistry, his tongue flicking and tickling all around your heat as he removes a hand from your breast, his fingertips dancing down your body before disappearing underneath you and resurfacing against your pulsating entrance.
The “please” that dripped from your lips caused Spencer to moan, his fingers inserting themselves painfully slow as your chest flushes in satisfaction.
Your entire body was alight with fire.
Losing yourself in him as you buck and moan and squirm, wanton with lust and blinded by a need to chase your own pleasure, you coat Spencer’s cheeks in your juices before coming down from your second orgasm, your back resting on the carpeted floor as you feel yourself trickle down your ass crack.
It only served to swirl your mind into a filthy rage.
As Spencer kisses up your body, leaving a very wet trail behind him as his body sinks itself in between your legs, he breaks the non-verbal silence just before he presses his lips to yours in another kiss.
“How do you want me?” he breathes into your skin.
The question sent your mind aflurry, scenario after scenario flooding your mind as your eyes begin to water.
You felt so good…
“Every way,” you breathe back, your watery gaze opening to meet his as he nuzzles the tip of your nose.
“That might take a while,” he mumbles lowly, pressing his throbbing dick tantalizingly close to your entrance as you whimper underneath him.
“Any way. You choose. Any way,” you breathe as you latch your arms around his neck, feeling his hands push your hips into the floor as he stills your gyrating movements.
“I need this to be you,” he says, his voice reaching down into the depths of your hazy mind and tugging at the rational side of you that has been buried underneath the filthiest of thoughts.
You knew what he was asking.
He needed your consent.
Not your disorder’s.
It was as if he was watching your eyes clear for the first time since you had opened the door to him a half an hour ago.
“It is me,” you say, your voice returning as your eyes dance in between his, “and it’s alright.”
The smile that peeled across his cheeks caused you to return the gesture…just before he thrust his hips forward.
He buried himself within you as your mouth peeled open, a primal, throaty groan bursting forth as your shoulders arch off of the floor.
Your fingernails were clawing at his back as he begins to slam into you relentlessly, holding you to the ground as your lower legs hook over his calves, trying to gain some sort of traction as he fucks you silent in your own home.
Your eyes start to roll back as Spencer’s head dips, drawing one of your puckered buds into his mouth as you suck in a gasp of surprise.
It was then that you found your voice.
And oh, was it bad.
“Fuck. Me. Spencer. Yes. God. Just. Right. There. Oh. God. Fuck!”
Your words were in time with his thrusts, his hands flying up and planting themselves beside your head as he rolls his hips deep into your body as you raise yours to meet his thrusts.
“You like that? You like that tight pussy? Those juices dripping down your balls?”
Your words caused Spencer’s jaw to clench, a low moan rising up behind his teeth as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.
“Like showing this innocent girl what she’s good for? Huh?”
Your breathing was shallow and rapid as you approached your impending orgasm, Spencer’s teeth sinking into your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling himself deep within you as your words swirl in his head, shocking him as his dick twitches at every syllable that pours from your lips.
Your clenching walls fueled his steady erection as he wraps his arms around your back, hoisting you up and into his lap as he sits up against the wall, your body still impaled on him as your knees sink heavily into the carpet.
Your eyes clear for a split second, your meekness shining through that he knows so well as he smiles and kisses the tip of your nose.
“Are you alright?” he asks lightly as he locks his fingers around your body, resting them in the dip of your spine.
“Yeah,” you smile lightly as your cheeks flush deep.
It caused Spencer to smile broadly before leaning his forehead into yours.
“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he croaks as he opens his eyes, taking in the sight of your body in his arms as he feels you nuzzle your cheek into his before placing your forehead into the crook of his neck.
“So are you,” you breathe as you roll your hips, causing Spencer to suck in a sharp bout of air through his lips before you raise your hands and plant them on the wall behind him.
“You’re perfect,” you whisper, rolling your hips again as your body begins to warm and pulsate for the man beneath you.
“Oh,” he groans as his hands splay across your back, pressing you closer into him as you swirl your hips in a figure eight.
“Fuck,” he bites, his teeth nipping at your collarbone as his hands slide to your hips, his fingertips sinking in as your lips begin to nibble at his earlobe.
“I meant it,” you murmur, your voice clearing as Spencer’s body pauses, listening to your every word as he hugs you close, “…when I said ‘any way’.”
And that was all the reassurance he needed as his hips began to buck up into you, your entire body jolting on top of him as your breasts bounce in his face.
It wouldn’t be until the morning after, when Spencer would stretch and feel you tighten your hold on his sore body that he would smile and open his phone, shooting a message to the team letting them know that you were, in fact, alright.
isabelle-suters
