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#spencer x yn
mshalfemptygirl · 1 year
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Welcome to my place, angels!
A little bit about me
🖤 I’m Let, my pronouns are she/her and I’m 23 years old 
🖤 I love to write and my fics are base in my life (most part of voices in my head because I’m too creative) and in music. 
🖤 I love Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds and MGG with all my heart and soul, I’m crazy about them and I can’t imagine my live without them. 
🖤 And I really love when you guys read my fics and like them, reblog them and so on. That’s mean a lot, so THANK YOU my angels. You always can call talk with me, so send me a message, ok? Love y’all
Spencer Reid Masterlist 
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patrickispinky · 6 months
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Derek: are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Emily: i'm the knife
Jj: *from across the room* she's the little spoon
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inkdrinkerworld · 16 days
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complimenting spencer on his new haircut cerca season 7 and him blushing and stuff!! He’s so cute with that haircut!
He really is!!! Pre-relationship reader x spencer reid
“Spencer, your hair!” You rush out of your office chair and over to him as he walks into the bullpen.
“I cut it,” he says, fighting the flush in his neck and cheeks. “Does it look bad?”
“Bad?” You’re incredulous, Spencer Reid has never looked bad a day in his life. Not even when his hair was long and he thought he was too lanky.
“Yeah.” He cares what you think about him, that much is obvious; he always has.
“You look even more handsome than before.” Honesty, you can’t help but be honest to Spencer and he really does look good.
“Did you have your tea yet?” You’d switched over from coffee a few months ago because Spencer had noticed how badly your hands had started shaking and passed you a mug of tea over coffee one morning.
“No I did not, will you have yours with me?” Spencer looks at you like you’ve lost your mind- when has he ever let you have your drinks alone? Never.
By the time he’s handing you your mug, you’re still a little transfixed by his hair, watching it fall off to the side and a little more than desperate to thread your fingers through the sides just to see how long it is.
“Why’re you staring at me like that?” Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, reaching into his bag for a bowl of fruit, he passes it easily to you already opened.
You narrow your eyes at him, popping a grape between your teeth. “You’re pretty, what am I supposed to do about that?”
He only shakes his head, “Eat your fruit,” nose and cheeks flushing a little harder when Morgan gets in and comments on him, ‘cutting his hair for his morning date.’
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velvetwilde · 28 days
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Who the fuck he think he is to be this damn hot?
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kisses4reid · 2 months
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convenient | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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summary - studying while working at a convenience store is easier that thought when a regular happens to be a genius.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x earlyseasons!spencer
warnings - school work, that always scares me. they’re the same age!!! early 20s. mention of condoms.
edit - bc this is getting so much love, i’m opening a taglist for part 2!!! just comment or put in a req to join the ‘convenient’ taglist 🫶
the chime of the door didn’t phase you, the creaks and squeaks of the store slowly becoming one with you. flipping onto the next page of your biology textbook, something that was unnecessarily expensive, you shake your hand to get rid of the cramp you slowly became aware of.
it was only when a wave of man’s cologne and a plastic bag stood in front of you that you ripped your eyes off of your books.
he was tall, skinny, had long(ish) hair and looked amazing. there wasn’t really anything else to say, other than that the thin smile he displayed toward you made you smile back.
“just these for today?” you ask, fixing your posture and pushing some loose strands back to their place behind your ears.
“yes, thank you.” he says, voice as timid as his appearance. it was a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him as his long fingers slip through his wallet to find a debit card. “have a good night.”
your eyes return to your textbook as you go to erase an answer you had previous written, obviously wrong.
“the heads of the phospholipid bilayer are hydrophilic, not phobic.” he says. it surprised you, making you return to his gaze slowly before realising you should probably reply instead of staring at the man.
“oh- yeah, thanks. i caught that it’s just, i guess i’ve been staring at the same words for so long i can’t differentiate them.” you give a small fake laugh as he nods, giving you a long look before coughing and leaving promptly. he leaves with his bag, and his hands fiddling with each other.
you can barely focus after that. customers come and go, and although you’ve only been doing the late shift for a week, this encounter with the unknown man couldn’t leave your mind. the way he dressed, his smell, his voice and how he corrected you (which would totally annoy you usually). you hoped he would return.
and he did. three days later, this time even later than the last.
you were stuck in a dark purple sweater, the aircon in the store blasting cold air that you were too lazy to fix. and although the air flipped pages of notes and questions, you were still stuck in a trance.
the blasting aircon blew a wind of mens cologne this time, it smelt like wood. your eyes glanced up from your books and trailed the familiar man, noticing how he was reusing the plastic bag from days before.
he returned to the checkout with apples, a 3 minute cannelloni, and a bag of coffee. he was now the one trailing you, “where did Latrice go?” you look up, chuckling a bit,
“Latrice is getting paid by her daughter-in-law to babysit the twins,” you reply, surprised you were willing to tell him so much information. he could be a stalker for all you know. or just a regular, obviously that’s way more likely. “trust me, i miss her as much as you do. $14.98.”
he nodded with a small smile and sliced his card down the side of the card reader.
you searched for him now, only after two encounters you were already craving some sort of human interaction at work. usually you avoided it since the only other ‘regulars’ were old men and mean teenagers. you had switched to writing a biology report on your computer, the sound of the keyboard almost covering the sound of the door bell.
a bag of apples, a 2 minute lasagne, a bag of coffee, and a banana muffin.
“big night?”
“uh- what?”
“you got a banana muffin. i thought you were starting to become predictable.” you bagged his things as he chuckled, looking over you and your laptop. you noticed only because you were also looking at him, “biology report. wanna read it?” you joked, but he didn’t catch that part.
now he was behind the register, sat on your wheelie stool reading and editing your report while walking you through everything he was changing. you didn’t understand most, but you were just happy to stay around him. you weren’t even scared of Old Alan, the guy who only buys cucumbers and condoms. nobodies ever asked him, don’t think anyone wants to know.
“what’s your word limit?”
“3500.”
“only 3500?” he gave you a raised eyebrow, voice getting slightly higher. he coughed, “sorry, that’s nearly impossible.”
you sigh, “i know… i’m y/n by the way. thought you should know who your helping cheat.”
“i’m not helping you cheat, i’m just… editing,” he hit backspace a few times with a lowered bottom lip, “my names spencer.”
you smiled and crossed your arms as you leaned against the counter. spencer. yeah, that sounded nerdy enough.
pt. 2
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celest1all · 1 month
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dom!spencer telling the reader to “take this dick” while overstimulating😩😩
omfg dom!spencer makes me feel....things.
i apologise in advance @_@
mdni 18+
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it was all too much -- his cock thrusting in and out of you mercilessly and his nimble fingers working over your clit, sending shockwaves down your spine.
beads of sweat coated the valley of your breasts, spencer's eyes watching it drop down onto your stomach and into your navel. he was grunting with every move of his hips, your cunt clenching around him every time he filled you to the hilt.
"f-fuck," your cursed, tits bouncing up and down with every movement and thrust. his cock was making you feel so full, and if you focused hard enough you could feel the every vein on it, sending pleasure throughout your body.
"come on baby," he spoke, his forehead glistening in sweat, causing the front pieces of his hair to stick to it. he looked like a fucking god. "take this dick. i want you to come all over it."
he pronounced every word with an extra hard thrust, hitting your g-spot every time. his fingers continued playing with your clit, and you knew with all the pleasure coursing through you, you were going to come.
your toes clenched and your whole body spasmed as your orgasm wracked through you, grabbing onto the bedsheets either side of you.
"good girl," he praised "good fucking girl."
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sarcasm-and-stiles · 1 month
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Spencer: I can never tell if someone is flirting with me or just being friendly
Y/N: maybe we should kiss until you figure it out 😏
Spencer: like platonically or
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spentfromspence · 2 months
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Spencer: I dont need to sleep yet, Im not tired.
Y/N: But i’ll be so lonely, who will I cuddle with? Pleaseeee come to bed with me?
Spencer: …are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?
Y/N: …Is it working…?
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reidsc0nverse · 9 months
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pov your instagram when dating spencer reid pt 5
so it seems everyone loves these lol (i can do other characters from diff shows too btw just ask!!)
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Liked by Elle_Greenaway, princesspennyg, and 251 others
(y/n) So babysitting was fun
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AaronHotchner You guys are never babysitting Jack ever again.
-> (y/n) it was his idea hotch 🙄
-> AaronHotchner For Reid to hit him in the head with a baseball bat???
-> spencerreid1 Yes.
-> (y/n) go ahead and ask him
-> AaronHotchner ...
jjareau Y/n I really hope this isn't how you guys get the boys to sleep...
-> emilyprenty I mean if it works 🤷🏻‍♀️
-> (y/n) @/emilyprenty exactly
paparossi Maybe you two shouldn't be parents...
-> spencerreid1 This method was never in any parenting books but it should be.
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Liked by alexblake, dr.taralewis, and 210 others
(y/n) power outage in the bureau ‼️‼️
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derekm The generators kicked on literally three minutes later
-> (y/n) didnt stop spence from screaming like a little girl
-> spencerreid1 @/(y/n) I did not.
-> emilyprenty We all heard it reid don't lie to yourself
princesspennyg Squad 😎
-> (y/n) ong 💯
-> jjareau For real
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Liked by hotboylukealvez, grant_anderson, and 123 others
(y/n) Brought him to barbie (he cried)
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princesspennyg Okay but who DIDNT cry??
-> paparossi I didnt
-> AaronHotchner @/paparossi Dave you were a blubbering mess don't even.
-> (y/n) HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA
-> emilyprenty LMAO
spencerreid1 I'm glad to say I'm not a Ken.
-> (y/n) but you are kenough baby
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Liked by MattSimmons, Kate_Callahan, and 213 others
(y/n) Im obsessed with him
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jjareau Awwwww
-> spencerreid1 I know right. :)
-> (y/n) @/spencereid1 shut up
derekm You have to wake up to THAT every morning
-> emilyprenty yeah instead of me
-> (y/n) @/emilyprenty 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
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taintandviolent · 1 year
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In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth. (Kyle Spencer x Reader)
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summary: zombies eat brains... not pussies. WRONG. they actually eat them really well. 2.9K words!
warnings: 18+ below the cut!! smut (female receiveing), heavy heavy cunnilingus, s*xual guiding/coaching, praise (male receiving), carnal instincts, unga bunga brain Frankenkyle because it’s a serious problem I have, uhhhhhhh.
tags: @darlingjimmy @petersevans @kaiju-superstar @redwoodghost @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @iluwmycats @kai-slut @kaissweetlamb @twinkiemaximoff @evanpetersfansblog @spill-the-t @eventually27 @stucktothetwo @kai-andersons-blog @kai-anderson-whore @evansb1tch @viharmonscorner @yesdevineruler @anonymous0316 @enchanting-evan @fuckedbykai @nova-kayne67
ao3 link here! Full link below the cut!! Thank you to @redwoodghost​ and @kaiju-superstar​ for yet AGAIN beta-reading and sending me to the clouds.
“Mmmph….”
Three days earlier.
After a series of life altering events, you’d finally thrown your hands up and run away from home. The destination? Miss Robichaux’s School for Gifted Young Women, located in the mysterious city of New Orleans. As you rode the bus, one backpack stuffed with clothes and jewellery clutched tightly to your chest like a child, vibrant images of vampires, witches and voodoo danced in your dreams.
You saw yourself as a plain Jane who had been a little too influenced by the occult at a young age. A typical girl who had grown up on Stevie Nicks and tarot cards, you had never considered yourself particularly remarkable, though you’d always had a knack for making things happen a little too easily. Teachers and parents had always described you as an influential young woman — a deceptive umbrella term that hardly scratched the surface. You weren’t writing persuasive essays or excelling in Speech and Debate, you were sticking your fingers into someone’s mind like playdoh and rewiring it to do exactly what you wanted.
It was that deceptive umbrella term that brought you to Louisiana to begin with; you’d felt unheard, unseen, and misunderstood. You were struggling and nobody had the capacity to unravel your problems.
Cordelia, who was easily one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen, welcomed you into her office. The interview was brief but compassionate. She’d asked you to explain what brought you to her home, what you felt your “powers” were, and reached to touch the top of your hand when you struggled with that word. She lingered, staring deeply at your fingers. After a moment, she inhaled and spoke again.
“Nothing is silly here. You’re safe. Everything you’ve thought was make-believe or… or childish isn’t. The world runs on magic.”
Cordelia had called one of the other girls into her office and given you an encouraging nod. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, had jet black hair, and large glasses. She looked deeply frightened and you almost felt bad when you made her crawl on the floor like a crab before standing up and clapping excitedly. It took very little effort for you, Cordelia noted and wrote something on a piece of paper in your file.
Whatever you’d done, you’d done it correctly. Shortly after that, a girl named Zoe showed you to your new room. She was sweet, kind — the sort of woman that you thought would listen to every side of every story before making any judgements. She used to be a student witch here, she explained as you two walked, but she'd risen in the ranks and become so busy with being the Council — something very important, a hierarchy of witches — that she didn’t have time for the things she used to focus on.  
Zoe opened the tall door, letting you step in first. Well-lit by the large and ornately trimmed windows, the room was white, matching the scheme of the rest of the mansion. Sparsely decorated, there were the necessities in terms of furniture and nothing else. There were two beds at opposite sides of the room… and a blonde boy sat cross-legged on the one closest to the door. His expression was blank, but his brows were laced together, conveying some sort of unknown sadness.
“This is Kyle. He…” she trailed off, her voice sounding unsteady. “He died. Madison and I, we… we put him back together and brought him back.”
You snapped your head to face her, jaw hanging slack in disbelief. “Put him back together? Like Frankenstein?”
Zoe nodded, and reached out to stroke his fluffy blonde curls. While he remained stoic, you noticed the tiniest flinch in his cheek muscles. The way she looked at him… you crossed your arms over your chest uncomfortably. There was history here. “He’s not the same. He tries though.”
She straightened out her frown, visibly trying to move on from the memories.
“This used to be my room. But…” She dropped her hand to her side. He flinched more visibly. “It’s yours now.”
Zoe had told you that all Kyle needed was macaroni, kid’s shows on YouTube, and he wouldn’t bother you. For the first night, you conceded with those recommendations because his outbursts overwhelmed you.
On the second night, you woke up to the sound of rustling. Kyle sat upright in his bed, sheets draped over his lap, staring towards the window. You sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to your chest. He turned to look at you and shrunk away from your gaze, ashamed. He quickly returned to a lying position, like a child who had gotten yelled at. The apprehension you possessed on the first night had morphed into wonderment. A reanimated boy, who despite being pieced together still had some semblance of sentience and emotion. It may have been cliche to analyze it through a Shelley-esque eye… but with sentience, came love. And with love, agony was sure to follow. You’d always been particularly enraptured with the idea of a monster needing love, trying desperately to understand it.
A line from Frankenstein came to mind as you watched him staring straight up at the ceiling, hoping you wouldn’t notice he wasn’t asleep. “I have a love in me the likes of which can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”
So… what if you satisfied the first? Perhaps all he needed was some tenderness, some attentiveness.  
“Kyle?”
No response. You swung your legs out from underneath the covers, planting your bare feet on the wooden floors. In only your nightgown, the chill of the air bit at your exposed limbs, prompting you to slip your arms into the lacy, green sleeves of your robe.
“Kyle? You wanna look at the moon?”
This time, he turned his head on the pillow to look at you. You began moving carefully towards him.
“You want to? The moon?” You asked again, making a circle shape with your hands and then unrolling them to point towards the window. He nodded, showing understanding. Clumsily, he threw the covers off him and got to his feet.
You took one step. He followed, ambling heavily behind you until you both stood close enough to the window to feel the chill that permeated the glass. He sighed heavily, the sound resonating in his broad chest. It was the first time you’d heard any sort of happy sound from him. His knuckles brushed against yours, but despite the quivering in your abdomen, you didn’t reach out to hold his hand. You wanted to, though. Very, very much.
On the third night, you woke up to the sounds.
“Mmmmmph! Mmm…arrr…. Mmmm…. ow.”
You rubbed your eyes, rousing yourself. Instead of being in his own bed, like he usually was, Kyle sat at the foot of yours, his legs pulled to his chest. “What? What’s wrong?”
He grunted again, scooting closer to you on the bed. Although the room was dark, the small night light in the corner illuminated just enough of his face to show the pained expression, the stress in his dark eyes.
“Kyle? What’s the matter? Try…” You whispered. “Are you hurt?”
He nodded. Then shook his head. “Hmmmph… I’m……”
“You’re what? What is it?”
He struggled to speak, but what did come out sounded distinctly like your own name.
Kyle’s head dropped heavily to his chest, shamefully looking down at his erection as it tented his boxers. He lifted his eyes, staring at you from underneath his heavy brow and fluffy locks. Both hands clenched into fists, he pressed down into his groin, moaning.
Oh…. Oh fuck, you thought. Oh my fucking god, he’s got a boner.
“It’s okay,” you reassured. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of… it’s normal. O-kay.”
Poor thing. He doesn’t know what to do…. He’s asking for help. He looked into your eyes with the most soulful, desperate pleading you’d ever seen. No man, even more together than him, had ever asked you for help like this. There was something underneath, another stain on his heart. You could feel it when your eyes locked for a second too long — but that wasn’t important. It didn’t change what you were about to do.
You fingered the ruched elastic of his boxers, scooping it towards you. The taut skin of his stomach was warm, and the heat increased as you neared the bush of hair. Kyle groaned and cloddishly bucked his hips to force your hand farther down. The searing hot tip slipped against the back of your hand, leaving a streak of precum on your skin.
“P……l…eaaasse…..” His chest was heaving up and down, forcing excited little breaths out of his open mouth.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and gripped his cock gently. It twitched against your hand and you felt another hot, viscid ribbon coat your knuckles. Oh fuck. He jerked his hips again as you began stroking, smearing his wetness along the shaft. He slackened the muscles in his neck, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.
“Good? Does that feel better?”
His head moved on you, up and down, so you assumed it did. You decided to test it by going a little faster, and squeezing his cock a little harder. Instead of the guttural, almost pained groans  he’d given you before, the most pathetic little whimper left his throat. You lifted your gaze to the ceiling, rolling your eyes back. He was putty in your grip, begging for you with every muscle in his body. And that… drove you insane.
Carefully, quietly… you reached to your legs, gathering the edge of your nightgown into your palm, pulling it up your thigh until you had enough room to reach your own arousal. Wasting no time, you circled your clit slowly, slipping a finger inside between rotations.
“AAAAAGUHHH!”
You clapped your hand over Kyle’s mouth, eyes widening like saucers in the dark. You whispered louder than you ever had in your entire life. “Shhh! Kyle! Shhh!” He breathed hard out his nose. “I can’t help you if you’re loud… they’ll hear you.”
Underneath your fingers, Kyle’s plush lips parted just enough for you to notice. You froze. He looked down as far as his ocular anatomy allowed and his pupils dilated, the blackness consuming the already deep brown. His tongue swept across the underside of your fingers before forcing itself between them. He gripped your hand tightly at the wrist and yanked it down in a startling display of his inhuman strength.
“Wuh…. Want.”
You jerked your head back, confused. “What?”
He brought your hand back up, and like a child claiming that a toy was his, Kyle licked your pointer and index finger from the base to the tip of them. He swallowed.
“Waant….”
Holy shit. You realised. You realised what it was he wanted…. The hand you’d used to cover his mouth was that hand that you’d previously been fingering yourself with, the fingers that were coated in your own wetness. He wanted… that.
Nervously, you pulled your hand from his boxers, the elastic snapping against his tummy. You nodded once and inhaled a deep breath through your nose, a feeble attempt at pacifying the bundle of live wires you called your nerves. Kyle’s eyes never left yours, watching you intently as you planted your hands on either side of your body as leverage to push yourself back towards the head of the bed. You laid back on the pillow, knees touching and obscuring Kyle.
When you opened them, your breath rushed out from your lungs. He was so pretty, the way the moonlight illuminated his curls like an angel’s halo, outlining his broad form. His plaid shirt hung open, teasing at the body beneath. And then, of course, there was the erection. The fabric of his boxers were pulled tight.
You tilted your head down, pressing your chin against your chest. Your eyes were misty, doe-like, and you almost stuck your fingers in his mind to tell him to come to you. But he did it on his own accord and your heart gave an adoring flutter. Coming forward onto his hands, Kyle crawled on the bed to you, and you welcomed him in between your thighs. He lowered himself down onto his stomach.
“Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, Kyle…”
Kyle opened his mouth on your pussy, lapping at it hungrily. The smoothness of his teeth grazed your clit, and the heat of your arousal was unimaginable, burning deep within your core. You’d been eaten out, but not eaten out. Not like this. Zombies ate brains, not pussies.
And yet… you were being devoured within an inch of your life. Every clench brought out more cum, and Kyle was there to drink it up, flicking his tongue from your entrance to your clit repeatedly, until your vision went blurry with twinkling stars. Every time his tongue returned to its starting position, he always lingered and sometimes slipped in, delving into something he wanted more of. He was tasting you over and over again. Your mouth opened, at first giving nothing but the sound of your breath. His lips closed around your clit, his tongue driving up into your entrance, and a high pitched whine clawed its way out of your throat.
And just like that, the pleasure was gone. Kyle pulled away, panicked.
“Bad?!”  
You shook your head quickly, panting. “No, no…. Good. Very good, Kyle.”
His worried expression softened slightly, but he still looked unsure and scared to keep going. The sound you’d made… all he knew told him it was that he’d done something wrong and he’d hurt you.
“B….buh….. bad…… sssssound…..”
“Nonononono. Very… very good. I made that sound because it feels good. You’re doing a good job.”
He huffed out a breath, the warmth of it washing over you. You writhed, the backs of your thighs rubbing against his bare shoulders. Bent at the elbows, Kyle wrapped his forearms around your legs, wide hands twitching ever so slightly as they caressed you. There was something overwhelmingly erotic in the way he fearfully looked up at you from between your legs. You drew your bottom lip in, biting down as hard as you could to stifle the moan that threatened.
“Please,” you whined. “You’re doing so good, Kyle. It feels so good. You like it, right?”
He nodded, dropping his gaze to look at your cunt, a puddle forming on sheets below. His jaw hung slack as he went back in, his lips enveloping you fully. His tongue was hot and you were sensitive, writhing in his grip. You weren’t aware that you were writhing away from him until his fingers came to life, digging deep into the soft flesh of your thighs.
You arched your back as you came on his tongue, taking fistfuls of the sheets and tightening until you felt the fibres squeak against each other. Kyle growled into your cunt, pulling you closer into him. His tongue flattening against you, feeling the pulsating clenches as they happened.
Kyle straightened up to his knees, stiffly pulling his boxers down over the curve of his ass. His stiff cock sprung free, the swollen head, red and leaking. He seemed to know what he wanted to do, but didn’t know where to start. You scooted down, pressing your legs further open. Kyle shuffled forward on the bed, the springs creaking underneath you.
“It’s okay, Kyle… it’s okay.” Keeping your eyes on him, you took hold of his cock again and gently guided it towards your wet slit. “I’ll make you feel better.”
He allowed himself to be guided, following your direction. His squishy tip slipped in, compressed by your tight walls. The sound that Kyle made — something between a choking breath and a groan — was the only warning you got that a switch had flipped. He knew exactly what to do.
Kyle sunk his length into you, taking only a moment to revel in the feeling of your warm, wet insides. He quickly found his rhythm, bucking in and out with steady intention as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, mouth hanging slack. His pelvis slapped against yours, knocking against your clit each time your bodies met. The visual drove you insane, sending streaks of hot arousal right to your core.
“Gggoooooodddd….” He groaned. “G-good.”
He picked up speed, and you desperately tried to maintain coherency, nodding. Your nails dug into his back, holding on as tight as you could. “Guh-HOHm- my god. Good, yes. G-good, baby.”
Kyle’s large hands snaked their way to your shoulders, encasing them in a steely grip. He pulled himself into you, harder and harder until you felt an unfamiliar ache in your insides, where he could go no farther. You came for a second time with a high-pitched whimper and Kyle kept his pace, grunting. Your wetness splashed against your thighs as he thrust into you, and when you lifted your hips up slightly, Kyle’s fingers curled in, clamping down on your shoulders with a crushing strength. You held back your cries of pain, grinding your hips against his as he pumped into you. Just hold on… let him finish….  
Finally, he released his hold on you, collapsing onto your chest with a heavy breath. Once the vigorous movement had subsided, your sweat-soaked bodies were no longer immune to the lithe, chilly fingers of temperature. Still, you were warm underneath him.
So, so warm.
Kyle fell asleep with his cock inside you. And for the first time in three nights, he didn’t wake up once.
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nobitchs-world · 17 days
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What people think I mean when I say I like white boys:
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What I actually mean:
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patrickispinky · 6 months
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Spencer: You're the love of my life, my best friend. I would do anything for you.
Y/n: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a descent sleeping schedule.
Spencer: Absolutely not.
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inkdrinkerworld · 16 days
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Dad!Spencer forgetting to take a hair clip out of his hair that his daughter put in earlier that morning 🤭 and nobody telling him until he goes home LMAO
Georgia has a cutesie little routine with her dad, he does her hair and she does his.
This morning Spencer has spent the better half of twenty minutes braiding her hair back and out of her face.
“Daddy, can you put the ribbons in today? The orange ones, please?” It would clash with her outfit but who is Spencer to deny her that?
“Course Georgia, on both braids or one tying them both together?”
He likes giving her choices like this, letting her decide little things so she feels she has a say. Spencer likes her to be knowledgeable and a little independent- but not too much, he still wants her to need you both.
“Invididually,” he smiles at how she says it and nods.
“Individually, you got it.” He ties the ribbons in cute little bows and then pats her back. “All done, go get breakfast with your mom.”
She starts to hop off the stool she’s stood on and then stops. “Wait. Daddy?” Her eyebrows pulled tight together as she reaches in her hair bag.
“Yes, sweetheart?” Spencer looks equally perturbed.
“Can I put this one in your hair? So we match?” He nods and kneels down, letting her little hands push back his hair and set the orange clip in his hair.
Breakfast is busy, as it usually is with a five year old. She wants waffles and you and Spencer spend a little time coaxing yogurt and fruit on her plate.
You pack her lunch kit, pack yours and then Spencer’s and you’re all rushing out of the door- you need to beat traffic.
You kiss Spencer goodbye and you both rush off- you to drop Georgia and Spencer to the bau.
His day doesn’t get less busy, an all paperwork day, so he’s stuck at his desk and while he gets weird looks from Derek, he doesn’t take it on much.
It’s not unusual at all.
“Okay guys, get home. We’re not getting much else and we’re all updated on the paperwork.” Hotch makes the announcement around four thirty and Spencer sighs, cracking his knuckles as he stretches in his chair.
“Alright, I’m headed home guys. Georgia started fractions today and that math is never good for six year olds.”
He’s packing his back and catches a look of himself in his laptop’s reflection before he closes it.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles, turning round Emily and JJ. “Did I have it in all day?”
They both nod, JJ smiles gently. “It’s a good look Spence, a nice touch from Georgia.”
“She’s getting better at gripping your hair back. Fine motor fully developed.” Emily compliments.
He blushes but doesn’t even bother to take it out, knowing she’s going to love it that he’s kept it in all day.
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velvetwilde · 1 month
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What was the reason to look this damn hot?
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kisses4reid · 1 month
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convenient pt. 2 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
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pt. 1 (you cannot read part 2 with no context).
summary - he totally just cares if you pass your exams, nothing else. there is no other reason he keeps coming back to your convenience store.
genre - fluff, fem!college!reader x early season!spencer
warnings - school work, incorrect science stuff bc i’m just a girl
a/n - thank you all for the love on the first part!!! it was so surprising, especially since it was the first fic i’ve uploaded on this blog, i love y’all so much 🫶 thank you to those who suggested to make this a series, i would’ve totally made this a oneshot if not for y’all.
“you got any plans tonight spencer?”, morgan asked, taking his jacket off the back of his chair, passing spencer’s clean desk.
“uh, yeah actually.”
“really?” morgan stopped beside him, looking over his shoulder, a smirk crawling up, “with who?”
“moby dick.” spencer lied, morgan rolled his eyes.
“you’re no fun man.”
the doorbell rang, but after not seeing a certain skinny man for two nights, you’re mind starting to reset into the ‘studying grind mode’ it had been on before meeting spencer. stop thinking about spencer, keep studying.
three ladies dressed in short skirts, a white man with dreads (yikes), and a boy around 8 years old checked out with various items before a 3 minute cannelloni, bag of coffee, and an apple landed in front of you. before you could look up he spoke,
“how did your assignment go?” you jumped in your seat, nearly punching the man in the face before you placed a hand over your heart and sighed,
“good lord, you need to learn how to walk louder.”
spencer grinned. you scanned the cannelloni, he glanced at your hand still over your heart.
“rubatosis.”
“bless you?”
“the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.” you glanced up and saw him looking at your hand with a thin lipped awkward smile. you quickly put your hand down and continued scanning, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“we all know words. like… vellichor.” you spoke, packing his things in the same plastic bag he brought just little of a week ago. he tilted his head,
“the love of used bookstores?”
“i saw old books in your car.”
“you were looking in my car?” he put his hands in his pockets, as he looked out the window to his parked vehicle, not planning to pick up his bag of ‘groceries’ anytime soon. only then did you notice his tie was askew, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes a little sunken. the doorbell rung, a middle-aged balding man walking in behind spencer.
“i’m observant. $12.98.” he whipped out a slim wallet from his back pocket, flicking through some notes to pull out a $20. you ruffled through the register for his change as he remarked,
“you didn’t even look at the register.”
“don’t need to, you’re predictable.” you reply with a sneaky smile, causing spencer to copy reluctantly.
there was an awkward cough from behind him, the middle-aged man. spencer turned back to you after realising that he was in fact in a convenience store, and you were in fact the only worker there. “sorry sir, um. bye.” he took his bag, the thin lipped smile becoming nearly as predictable as his late-night groceries.
“bye.”
the tall, awkward, superbly smart man who smelt like wood didn’t show up for 5 nights. you thought there were only three possibilities at his absence: sickness, death, or he’s learnt how to cook.
you thought the next time you saw him you would ask more about him. in between studying, classes, and working, there wasn’t much time for a social life in your day to day. or maybe you wouldn’t. maybe he wasn’t showing up because he wasn’t really a regular, just a guy who needed quick meals, coffee, and apples on those specific nights. that’s insane, you are insane, get back to studying.
you almost didn’t recognise him the next night. same clothes, same height, same cologne, different face. dark circles under his eyes, permanent lines between his eyebrows, and a purple bruise on his left cheek. it was silent, he was the only customer at 11:30pm. you both made eye contact while you scanned his items, (same things plus a travel first aid kit) silently observing his expectant expression before you broke the silence.
“i’m not going to ask.”
“i got hit with the butt of a gun.” he said matter of factly.
you halted, coffee bag in hand, and stared at him, squinting. “…okay. actually i am gonna ask. who would hit a librarian with the butt of a gun?”
he scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head, blinking, “i’m not a librarian. why do you think i’m a librarian?”
you packed his things, “smart, dressed posh, just general mysterious good looking librarian vibe,” he handed you a $20, “you remind me of a pipe cleaner with eyes.”
he raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact, “not the first time i’ve heard that.”
you laughed, thinking it was a joke. his shoulders relaxed, the lines between his eyebrows softening. he grabbed his things, “bye, y/n.”
“bye, spencer.”
you were so close to finding out more about him. how the hell does a man that looks like that get into so much trouble?
you finish your shift, packing your textbooks and now flat laptop, locking everything up and turning the lights off. it was 1am. and, spencer was asleep in his car.
you looked around and put your jacket around your shoulders before jogging up to his driver’s window. his head was lulled to one side, mouth closed, chest rising softly. you knocked, and suddenly he was wide-eyed and searching for something.
“spencer? what are you still doing here?” you speak just loud enough for him to hear behind the window, which he promptly put down. you had a split second realisation how crazy this was. checking in on a regular, watching a regular sleep, feeling safe enough to approach a man’s car just because he buys the same thing every night he comes to the convenience store.
“sorry, i didn’t mean to fall asleep. i- uh,” he wiped his face, “sorry.”
you look at him with concern, “it’s okay, just.. try not to look like you were waiting for me to finish my shift to kidnap me next time, okay?”
he sighed and nodded. waving goodbye, you started down the street, your apartment only being a block away. over the music now playing in your ears, you heard a car drive away, mixing with your confused thoughts about who this regular really is and what he does for a living. and how does he look that good.
he was back the next night, same black slacks, with a purple sweater a shade darker than your own.
“hey spencer, before i scan your 3 minute bolognese, coffee and bag of apples-“
“how did you get that perfectly-“
“i’m going to ask this and you’re going to answer, okay?”
you know nothing about this man, but talking to him like a good friend felt natural now. though, you still tried to avoid over stepping it.
“-though you don’t actually have to answer it. you are a customer and i can’t force customers to do anything but- seeing as though you know i’m a college student and that i work at this convenience store and that i sort of suck at biology- sorry i’m rambling,” you take a breath, “where do you work?” you finish, spencer smiling slightly. you were surprised he didn’t cut you off to stop you, like everyone else did. he didn’t answer at first, the squeak of your shoe against the floor displayed your anxious tell.
“i can’t tell you.”
you sighed, rolling your eyes and packing his stuff, he already had a $20 ready in his hand. you took it, fingers brushing slightly against his. “you suck, and your so suspicious. i should just call security.”
he looked around, fiddling his fingers together, “you don’t have security.”
you pointed to a dead cockroach outside underneath the warm street light. “yes we do. why do you think he’s twitching? he’s insane, he’ll hurt you.”
he chuckled, the sound bringing a shade of pink to your cheeks. “you don’t work on weekends.”
you squinted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and maybe a bit of fear. “what.”
“i came in on a weekend and a man was here.” he explained as you nodded.
“yeah, no i don’t. why?”
spencer gulped, taking his bag, and smiling awkwardly, “nothing, bye!”
you waved, confused. also stressed, you hadn’t worked on your psychology assignment while waiting for him to show up.
pt. 3
taglist- @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @wannabewolf @evysian @trashmonstersara
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celest1all · 1 month
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dom!spencer finding the reader gets nervous with eye contact during sex so he makes her make eye contact
this giving dom!spence to me idk but i'm jsut gonna...yeah [edit: just realised this said dom!spencer anyway i'm dumb]
+18 minors leave please god
warnings: slapping, p in v, swearing idk, dom!spencer
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spencer noticed it a while ago, it wasn't hard for him to but two and two together -- you couldn't make eye contact to save your life.
it started with not looking hotch in the eyes when he was talking to you, then it was local law enforcement then it was him. you would avoid eye contact with him at all times, opting to looking at anything else (like playing with yours hands).
so, when you and spencer got together, he made it his mission for you to work on your eye contact; or lack of eye contact.
spencer's cock was thrusting in and out of you at an immense pace, your pussy clenching around with every little movement. your eyes rolling back in pleasure and thighs shaking. one of his hands were holding both of yours above your head and the other gripped on your trembling thighs, ensuring his pace never faltered.
"hey," he tapped your face, "look at me." he said, now holding your cheeks in one of his veiny hands.
it took a while for you to really listen to what he said, the pleasure turning your mind into complete mush. "huh?"
spencer continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly, "you're going to look at me whilst i ruin you." he growled at your, lust coating every syllable.
you shook your head at him, closing them and focusing on the feeling of his cock inside you. then, spencer did something you didn't expect -- he slapped you across the face. "oh, fuck," you moaned, liking the pain more than anything.
spencer smirked at you, "come on, baby, you can do it. if you look at me, then maybe i will let you come. maybe."
the threat was real and scary, you wanted to come, you wanted to come so bad. the feeling in your tummy was getting oh so close and you knew if you didn't look at him, he would stop and get himself off.
you opened your eyes reluctantly and stared directly into his eyes; they were dark. his smirk was still firmly on his face, whilst he was still thrusting in and out of you, his nimble fingers playing with your clit.
"there we go baby," he praised "there's a good girl."
the praise was too much, the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots whilst your clit was getting played with -- you were going to come. "fuck spence, please. please let me come." you begged, looking directly into his eyes.
spencer smiled at you and leaned down to kiss you on your forehead. he placed his lips next to your ear and said, "come for me baby, come all over my cock."
he made sure not to blink, he didn't want to miss the moment of you becoming undone. your eyes rolling back into your head and your hands gripped the bedsheets so hard he was convinced they would rip.
just the sight of it made him spill his seed directly inside of your fluttering cunt, "fuck," he groaned.
he's going to make you make eye contact more often.
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