Summary: it was a rundown car, one of the tail lights hung incorrectly as if the repairman hadn’t been too knowledgeable on much but the fact that it was broken. the road was insubstantial, flickering out of existence like the “no” on the motel sign ahead of us. the red echoes off of his cheekbones and eyelids in hollow waves. chip whispered my name brokenly — my tongue ached to say his in return.

Relationship: Chip Taylor x He/Him AFAB! Reader

WC: 4.8k

A/N: Hi my loves! This fic is for Pom (@imagining-in-the-margins) Discord Servers 5th Fic Swap! I was lucky enough to write this fic for Rory (@ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff)! And he wrote me an amazing fic as well, so  check his out! The reader is He/Him AFAB and intended to be a gay trans man. No mentions of breasts or a chest area is mentioned in any way shape or form.

CW: Mild Dub-con (Sleepy griding), a little bit of cum swallowing, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, it’s honestly just yearning and pining and dumb gays

Prompt(s):

A: What about this makes you think you’re dreaming? B: I’ve dreamt about you before"“

“do you think of me when you touch yourself?” “what else is there to think about?”

“Your hand feels much better than my own.”

Reader is very very wrong about his assumption of his best friend, Chip, being straight. Why? Chip keeps on saying Reader’s name while touching himself

NSFW 18+ ONLY

———-

(crush by richard siken:)

(you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. and you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.)

Tires couldn’t melt. Surely, if they could, then they would have already. The black pavement of the road drew any and all sunlight, stealing away that which should have helped to grow flowers or warm cheeks on cold days. However, Nevada’s desert didn’t have much in the way of plants besides the occasional cactus — so to the road, the light went. I knew if I stepped into it that the heat would sleep from the ground into my shoes.

It’s fickle like that, energy is. So very constantly moving and then spreading and staying and leaving. In a way it was almost like the boy sat next to me, with his hands gripped around the wheel, and his eyes glancing over at me in the few seconds when he could warrant looking away.

Not like there was much to look at besides me. The roads were the same in most places, black (or grayed with age), yellow and white lines, and the steering wheel beneath your fingertips. The whole world becomes this stretch of scenery that might never change. No energy would ever be the needed amount to change what is seen with the eyes of a traveler.

“It’s hot out,” Chip says simply, one of his hands moving to wipe away a bead of sweat that had started to slip down the side of his neck. My eyes followed the movement of his hands with mindless curiosity. Though to say my mind was completely out of the picture was wrong, I was thinking about how Chip’s hands would feel on me, in me.

Chip looked over at me, eyes of honey brown peering at me just because he wanted to look. I liked that about Chip, he never bothered himself with too much thought. Sure, he overthought at times, but Chip found his comfort in the life of complacency.

Truth be told, I had always wanted a man like him. Kind, comfortable, and loving, but also perfectly capable of wanting more. Chip could reach for the stars and then would be glad to land on a mountain top, as long as there were stars for his pretty eyes to look at.

“Should be a motel soon, we can stop there for the night,” I murmured. I didn’t bother to look away from the cut of his jaw as he peered out my window and through the distance, towards the horizon — eyes turning golden in the last few hints of sun that escaped the ever chasing sunset.

Somewhere, somehow, the road and time had both disappeared and left me with nothing but Chip. I didn’t care, he would always be enough for me.

If only there was a way that I would be enough for him — but Chip, my perfect man, Chip, didn’t like men. Or, so I thought.

That night, the only motel within a hundred miles was filled to the brim. No vacancies whatsoever, and the neon sign on the lot blinked without caring. It was what had made us decide to even try the motel, despite the copious amount of cars that sat in front of the building.

Luck was on our side, though, and the man at the counter said that we could sleep in our car in the lot. Which was better than the side of the road, albeit not exactly perfect.

The blanket we had stashed in the trunk worked fine.

It wasn’t too scratchy, and the soft yarn was broken in the right amount. Attached to the edge of the yellow and blue yarn-knit blanket was a hastily made tag. In large, scraggly letters, was written CT.

“Did … did you make this?” I asked, gracing a finger over the letters. I don’t know what pushed me to do so; I knew what it said, but I think I wanted to try and commit it to memory. This thing that Chip crafted so imperfectly in the best of ways. I wanted my brain to remember the smell of him on the blanket, and the sound of his voice paired with the plush as he answered my question with an embarrassed ‘yes.’

If in seven years — when my skin is wholeheartedly anew — I have come to lose the immortality of the brain’s memory, my heart will forever remember the adoration I felt for him at that moment.

“A little granny needed a ride to her grandkids. She didn’t have much money, so she taught me how to.”

I practically melted. Chip was the most perfect man ever and I was so crazy to ever think that I had a chance. But, he hadn’t told me anything that made it seem like he wanted me gone. Plus, it always felt like he tried to stretch out our trip to milk it to the bone. A stop at a gas station that takes far too long than just for snacks, often full of laughter in the small aisles before getting eventually (and inevitably) kicked out.

“Chip this is … amazing.”

A bashful grin spread across his lips as he leaned back in his seat, the blanket stretched across the centre to fit both of us. “I’m glad you like it. There should be enough for both of us, but if I steal the covers, you can just steal it back from me or…”

Chip grew embarrassed, his eyes looked away from me, towards the blinking sign. “Or, you could just wake me up and sit in my lap so we can share.”

I nodded. I knew that I’d definitely not have the courage to do so but it was a nice thought. Especially considering it seemed like Chip wantedme to sit on his lap. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made the offer.

My cheek pressed against the leather of the seat as I prepared to go to sleep. The dash said it was almost 10 and I was tired. It wasn’t comfortable, though the closeness to Chip helped a lot. Drowsiness had come over me quickly, and with a mumbled G’nightto Chip, I was asleep.

Sometime later, I was awoken by the blanket being suddenly pulled from me. I had gone to move and steal it back when I heard a whimper so sinful and heady with pleasure that I almost gasped in response.

See, while the tone was unfamiliar, I just knewit was Chip.

I hadn’t ever risked much in life. I was always the kid who did everything perfectly. I was never the perfectkid or the popular kid, but I was a good kid. The kind of kid that blends into the background and is content to do that. Yearbook club, a couple of friends, and A’s with one or two B’s. Never went to parties, never drank and drove, and never skipped.

But Chip was obviously taking a risk with what hewas doing so close to me that I couldn’t not take the risk and open my eyes.

Fuck, was I glad that I did. Nothing would ever prepare me for what I saw there. Persephone, lips reddened with the juice of pomegranate would never compare to the sight in front of me. Chip’s eyes were pressed close, and his eyebrows twisted in pleasure. The light of the neon sign faded in and out, illuminating Chip’s eyelids, the curve of his open lips, his bobbing Adam’s apple … My eyes dipped lower and followed every bit of the light. Till I saw the reason for the obscene sounds falling from Chip’s lips, not at all muddled despite the fact that he had bitten down into his bottom lip moments before.

His hand twisted down his cock. Thumb swiped over his leaking tip on the descent, rubbing his precum over his shaft.

Right away it was a blatant fact that Chip had a pretty dick. Soft looking skin flushed deep red with arousal, and softly curved towards his happy trail. Chips hand brushed his pubes at the base of his dick and held it there, I saw how his hand gripped down a bit holdinghimself as if to not cum so soon.

Chip released his swollen and pink bottom lip and his voice broke as my name escaped him. I froze for a half-second — afraid that Chip had discovered that I was awake and staring — luckily his eyes were still closed. Though, with two short and quick pumps, Chip came. His hand covered his head, hips bucking up. Chip’s red-illuminated hair fell back against the seat, another whine of my name crossing him, but it was softer now. My eyes slammed shut and I knew that he looked at me. The sign blinked red against the soft translucency of my lids.

I struggled to regulate my breathing as Chip’s finger touched my lips, a bead of his cum fell onto my lower lip. Chip hissed in a breath and said a low curse. I let my eyes blink open as if I was awoken from sleep. Chip’s hand had retreated from my face and I was glad to see that he had tucked himself back into his sweatpants.

My tongue swept over my lips and I saw Chip stiffen. I feigned curiosity and licked at my lips again. Deep down there was some part of me that liked Chip’s cum, but still would have rathered that I had tasted it on purpose.

“You stole the blanket,” I pouted. Sure, it was truebut I had not exactly cared that much about it. Chip’s eyes held a galaxy of honey as he stared at me like I was going crazy. “What?”

The sign turned on, tilting his eyes cherry brown for a moment before back to his dim, night and lust darkened honey-treacle.

“Does anything … taste weird…?”

I shook my head no.

“Wait! Since you stole the blanket, does that mean I can sit on your lap?” I questioned — though I was already hooking my legs over the centre console and moving. Chip spluttered without indignance as my shins came to rest on either side of his thighs. I sat down and pressed my face to the crook of his neck.

“Do I get a say in this?” He said a bit jokingly, my lips felt the nervous thrum of his heartbeat. His hands came to rest softly around me and me even closer. His heartbeat sped. I was so glad for that little proof of life. Truth to that this wasn’t a dream. All I wished for was for my own heart to understand that lust can do a lot of things to someone’s mind — even for just a moment, make them say the name of the wrong person.

Still, my brain would forever remember the yearnand totality of longing that I felt when I wanted to say his name in return.

(i wanted to answer a call that only chip could have rung)

—————

Waking up in Chip’s arms was a blessing and a curse.

For one, his arms were strong as they wrapped around me. His hold on me did not falter as I awoke the next morning, some time after dawn had broken. Chip’s arms had always been fairly muscular from what I had seen but it was a different thing entirely to have them wrapped around you with the purpose of not letting go.

The curse, however, was that his arms weren’t just holding. No, they were moving. Chip was still asleep if his little even breaths against my neck had any say in it. So, what he was doing was subconscious. Chip was subconsciously using his arms to rock me against his erection.

Every few seconds his breathing would be cut off by a sleepy groan that ignited a fire in my belly akin to the voracious and tantalizing red light that had echoed against our skin the night before.

Chip’s lips dragged across my skin sleepily, lean-muscled arms holding me to his lap tightly. It was as if he knew in some deep-seated way that it was me in his arms like all he had ever wanted was to hold me. Chip settled back again with his lips — the ones that always seemed to be programmed into a perfect little pink country-boy pout — pressed to the hollow divot of my collarbone.

In one motion, Chip’s face is wrenched back from my skin and his arms loosen to pull away. What replaced the feel of him on me was the sudden heart-wrenching longing for his warmth, for his cheek to be back against the place where my shirt had fallen and skin was visible. It was scorching out already, though it couldn’t be too far past dawn. Still, a million suns could fall on me with their flames and it would never compare to the quenching warmth of Chip’s life. Or, possibly, a better analogy would be that I was a dehydrated man, and Chip was the most hydrating water there was. Hmm, no. Chip may be something the kind of man to hum in the background, but he would never let himself forget that he held a sting of poison.

Chip was better suited to be electricity. Like the gasses and spark that flitted through every single neon light in the whole world. Capable of both shocking and warming. I had hoped that Chip hadn’t pulled away to give me a taste of his bite, since he had already given me a mouthful of his warmth.

His cheeks were such a shade of red, one that not even the sign from the night could ever think of matching. A pretty candy apple color that reminded me of when we had been on a California beach and he forgot sunscreen.

“I - I think we should find a Hotel room tonight,” Chip made no move to push me away. I made no move to go away. Despite the fact that pressing against my ass was an erection that also wasn’t going away.

I nodded in agreement, though I truly wouldn’t mind sleeping in the car again. Chip was a pretty nice mattress and I quite enjoyed the show he put on last night. Even if he didn’t know he was putting one on.

Still, he had said my name and I was in the car, only a few feet from him. If anything he had wanted me to see, right?

Though, that would mean that he was not straight, which was an odd thought to think. He had only ever mentioned girlfriends and sometimes I noticed how he would talk to a girl he found pretty. Eyes tilted golden, words soft and not sure where to look. Chip’d flit all around her face and her legs and her chest. I hadn’t ever noticed him doing that to a man.

And, unless I was blind, he’d never done it to me either.

Three hours later, I was back in my seat and Chip was driving, per usual for our day. We were an hour from Las Vegas, and Chip remarked that he’d only seen the city in passing. He’d never taken the time to stop in Sin City. So, the most obvious option would of course be to have us spend the day there.

Chip wasn’t very lenient with money, he used it when needed but would rather not splurge. However, he always seemed to have a full wallet. That was fine, though. I had enough for the fairly small buy-in of some random game. Plus, I was fucking fantastic at gambling. It was one of the few times I allowed myself the chance to take risks. It was exhilarating, wondering whether or not you’d win big or leave empty-handed.

And, well, I never left with less than what I started with.

“Chip,” I called, a small grin forming over my lips. He looked over at me quickly, before bringing his eyes back to the road. His eyebrow quirked softly with a question. “Can you go faster? I want to do somethin’.”

He nodded at me with vigor and a big smile and we shot forward a bit. Chip’s tanned hands adjusted their grip on the wheel. I didn’t pay too much attention as I rolled down the window. Chip’s hair, which had grown to the bottoms of his ears in our trip, wildly flailed in the wind that flooded the car. I gripped the outside of the car as I slid to sit on the door, most of my body out of the car.

I saw Chip’s eyes grow as wide as dime plates as he grabbed my ankle with a hand — the knuckles of both of his hands went bone white as they gripped onto either the wheel or me.

A nervous but admiration filled laugh bubbled from Chip’s lips, though It really could have been passed off as a sigh. “You …” A look I couldn’t place fell into his eyes, “You’re crazy.”

I then let my head fall back a bit, relishing in the way the wind contrasted the warm sun against every inch of me. When I looked away from the desert horizon, I noticed how Chip’s gaze fell onto my legs and the few inches of midriff from where my shirt had been ridden up by the wind. His eyes slammed back to the road when I caught him, and his eyes widened a bit.

“In a good way, I hope,” I said while sliding back in the window. I saw Chip’s shoulders relax a bit, and his fingertips dragged up my shin a bit before he returned his hand. Shot it back so fast I might have burned him.

“In the best way,” he replied, lips stretching as if he was trying to stop from saying something. But there was still that lingering yank from when he had tugged his hand back. Did he know? Had he somehow realized that I feel deeply for him and didn’t want to even insinuate that we could be together?

At that moment I felt like I had ruined it all. Like I was free falling and there’d be no one to catch me and I was too close to the ground. I felt like I’d failed a class or killed someone.

Then Chip reaches out, and his eyes are full of the poetry I would croon to him if I could, his eyes are glowing honey red again and I must be on fire now. Nothing else could explain the painless burning that filled my chest when I touched his hand.

(love, my brain whispered, love could)

—————

I called his name as we lay on the fancy hotel bed, it had an attached casino that we had just returned from. Entered with three hundred, left with almost two grand. I had sat on Chip’s lap and called him mylucky charm, and he was. In murmurs, he spoke about his limited poker experience.

Now our knuckles brushed from how close we were on the sheets and I hadn’t needed to look over to know that he was looking at me. In a way, he always was. Eyes bright with their own hum of neon gold, bright little flecks of the sun, and lightning in his sea of clear brown. Almost like dirt. Strong, life-giving. Chip took a drag of his lit cigarette, the red-orange tip reminded me of the neon sign. Has it really just been last night? I had thought to myself.

“D’you ever think about stopping? Finding somewhere to stay, building a home?”

Chip shook his head, curls falling into their soft pattern as they air-dried and slightly damped the white sheets beneath his head. It was odd to me, seeing as Chip had always seemed like someone who was searching for his home. Through mile, after mile, his eyes were sharp with longing. The roll of every hill, every divot leading to a river, he always seemed like he wanted to stop. To stay. Chip would look at me, eyes clear and warm, and I would see the longing in his eyes and I knew that he wanted to be home. Wherever his home happened to be. A small puff of smoke fell from Chip’s lips. I had gotten us a smoking room.

“I am home,” Chip’s voice was soft but strong with the sureness of his own self. “I am with you.”

My lips froze on my words, my mind had been completely and utterly discombobulated by the man beside me.

Chip threw his cigarette butt into the trash and scooted closer to me, nuzzling under the covers. I followed his lead, still too stunned to think much past ohmygod ohmygod. Before long, I felt my mind slow and my eyes flutter close, the scent of soap and cigarette smoke on my mind.

Chip had used my body wash.

—————

When I opened my eyes, I half expected the sight of the car. Since, what I was hearing mirrored what had happened the night before. Except there was a desperation to the sound that hadn’t been there previously.

A sob of my name echoed from next to me. That was what had woken me up. Notcovers being wrenched from me - in fact, I somehow had more covers on me than when I went to sleep. I was planning on just ignoring him, obviously, he wasn’t meaning to wake me up from his uhm, activities.But then his voice rang out softly, a sharp “No.”

I sat up quickly. The first thing I saw of Chip when I turned was how he reached for the blanket to pull it over himself. His hand didn’t make it that far, though. Before Chip had hidden his very obvious attempts of trying to get off, I had grabbed his wrist lightly.

“Chip. What are you doing?” I asked softly, curiosity and a flood of arousal pressed against my teeth, my tongue, and thrummed in my fingers. Everything of me was alight with the glow of what I was doing. I was giving myself a chance for risk, and I was taking it. Somehow, in the moments where Chip stuttered out an apology, I had become the neon light.

Suddenly, I wanted to stretch out and cover Chip fully. I wanted nothing more than to encapsulate him in my light, in me.

I moved as fast as I could, the covers falling off of me. Chips eyes were blinking in the quick pace of a faulty light, in the pace my heart surely must have also been beating. I used my grip on his wrist to guide him back to his own self.

“What are you doing?!” Chip exclaimed as I moved to straddle his thigh, not letting off my hold on his hand.

I let myself grind down on his leg for a moment, savoring the spark of friction it ignited in my tummy. There was stuff more important than that, though. “Last night and tonight, Chip. You’ve woken me up. Saying my name.” Chip’s eyes widened and a neon flush spread over his cheeks. I smiled a bit, so he really hadn’tintended on me knowing. His lips wrapped around soundless apologies. “Tell me, Chip: do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

“What else is there to think about?”

A groan fell from my lips. I moved from his thigh and rested by his stomach, moving his hand with me so that I could still grip his wrist. Chip’s erection pressed against my ass. Again. “Chip, you don’t gotta just think.If you want, right now, I’ll give you something to feel.”

If I could describe how Chip looked in one word, it would be thunder-struck.

Though he was the electricity and the lightning, Chip was the one electrocuted. When he moved into motion, I expected him to push me away. Instead, his free hand rested on my cheek, his pinkie finger under my jaw, and his lips were moving for mine. If his lips against my throat were mind-numbing, then this … this was mind-melting.Any thoughts I could have had escaped me, and this warming field of electricity swallowed me whole.

Chip kissed like he wanted love, and cuddling under homemade pink blankets, and hand-holding, and everything good. Chip kissed me as though he loved me. And he did.

“Let me touch you, please,” His breath was warm against my lips. I nodded, using my free hand to unbutton my pants, then guiding Chip’s hand to my boxers. A gasp left his lips as his fingers slid over my wetness, Chip’s thumb moved up and rubbed a soft circle into my clit and my hips jerked against his hand, rutting against him a bit, a moan falling from his lips.

Chip dragged two of his fingers between my folds, and before I could grab his wrist again, he pulled his hand between my legs and pressed his fingers into his open mouth. I could see from the hollow of his cheeks that he was greedily sucking on them. Words tumbled from my lips before I could even think through what I was saying.

“I wanna fuck you.”

He pulled his fingers from his mouth, a bead of spit connecting them to his lips. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

I shoved myself out of my boxers, throwing them somewhere across the room. I wasn’t in any hurry, but in a way I was.Chip’s hand moved back to me, this time his finger pushed into me.

I was prepared, yes, but in a way, I also wasn’t.

There was this expression of pure adoration pressing into every curve, dimple, and freckle of Chip’s expression.

He got in a few pumps and curls of his finger before I was practically shaking with desperation. Chip went to add another but I stopped him, using his wrist to pull him out of me. Chip leaned back on his elbows as I grabbed him from behind me, his skin warm and flushed under my fingertips, giving it a few pumps before lining the head of his cock up to me.

“Your hand feels so much better than mine,” I could see Chip’s eyes struggling to stay open as I sunk down on him, a whine falling from my own lips. Despite the mild preparation, Chip was still bigger than I had expected. He wasn’t overly thick, but like his own stature, he was long.

Once our hips were flush, I spoke, “You can close your eyes, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chip shook his head, “I’m afraid I’ll wake up from this dream.”

I rocked myself slightly on him, more of a grind than a thrust. I was still too tired to actually put much motion in, but I could feel that we were both already close enough for it to work.

“Oh, love, what about this makes you think you’re dreaming?”

It’s Chip that actually thrust up, hands sliding under the hem of my cotton shirt and settling against my hips. “I’ve dreamt about you before.”

“What exactly have you dreamed of?”

I knew what it was like to dream. Before I woke I was seeing a candy apple red sunset and a never-ending road, a home with two wheels, I was smelling honey soap and looking in honey brown eyes; watching as energy flickered there while a black hole overtook that sliver of sun in his eyes.

“Sometimes, I dream of fucking you,” Chip punctuated his words with a thrust into me, one of his hands moving to rub eager circles into me. His voice was then softer, more hesitant, a whisper. “Mostly, I dream of loving you.”

I press a sweet kiss to his lips and Chip sighs against me, sparking across my flesh. “Don’t dream, make it real.”

In one smooth motion, he flips us. One of my legs pressed up high, placed over his shoulder. “I love you,” Chip thrusts deeply, but gently. His hand snakes to hold mine. I press a kiss to his lips. Our bodies were entangled and entwined like yarn.

(in the morning, the mirror would show us both that it wasn’t a dream as his lips would leave bruises against my skin. but reality or not didn’t matter as we both whispered our affections. we reached the end of our journey together, and glowed brightly with neon love)

[END]

archaeology//spencer reid

summary:Reader is a forensic archaeology student working on a case when she meets Spencer and finds herself both confused and interested in him.

relationship: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid (season 5)

content warnings: mentions of death, crime scene, that’s it! this is really just flufflol.

request: Could you perhaps write something about a fem archeology student (in her early 20s) specializing in forensic archeology coming to work on a crime scene the BAU has to investigate and finds herself liking a soft Spence a bit too much?

word count:1.8k

A/N: me vs finding any opportunity to write s5 spence with a cane lmao this is short but i wanted to write fluff last night and i loved this concept so much!! also short disclaimer that i don’t know anything about forensic archaeology so i only did a little research but if anything is off/incorrect, i’m sorry!!

masterlist

the California air is drier than usual as you step out of the SUV. it smells like heat and dust. you shield your eyes, making your way toward the crowd of FBI agents and police officers hovering over the crime scene. your partner (and glorified chaperone) gets out the other side to join you.

“ready?” she slides a pair of sunglasses on. Emma is more of an advisor than anything else. you’re still studying forensic archaeology and she’s been done with school for a couple years now, but the field experience has been more than helpful. plus, you’re excited about being able to work closely with the FBI.

you’re thinking about this when she puts her hand on your shoulder and pushes you forward a bit. “let’s go, Y/N.”

you nod and follow her to meet everyone. it’s easy to differentiate the feds from the officers and other field professionals, just because of the casual attire of the former. they also tend to harbor a certain cockiness that comes across in their posture.

“Deputy Rourke, I’m Emma Sanderson with the forensic archaeology unit,” your partner approaches a man in a suit jacket who is just finishing talking to two of the FBI agents. she extends her hand to shake. “this is my partner, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Rourke glances up and shakes Emma’s hand, then yours when you greet him. he seems tired as he relays you on the events of the case. your gaze begins to wander a bit to the actual scene of the crime, where a shallow grave of bones is marked off. it seems relatively untouched, which is good for your professional purposes.

the man in charge leads you both over to get a better look and get into the evidence, but you start to feel eyes on your back. peeking around, your gaze locks on a lanky man standing a bit further off. he’s tall, though you can tell he’s putting a considerable weight on the cane he carries. it’s one of the FBI agents Rourke was talking to before Emma interrupted.

his hair is a little long and hangs around a face with sharp cheekbones and deep eyes. those eyes aren’t staring at you, really. it’s more like he’s trying to make something of your job, as if he can’t discern your purpose just yet.

this doesn’t matter, however, as Emma clears her throat loudly and points to the shallow grave.

“care to stop eye-fucking?” her tone is matter-of-fact and it sends heat to your cheeks.

“i wasn’t–”

she looks up at you from her crouched position by the evidence and dares you to continue. you’re here to do a job, not bicker about odd FBI agents that look like ghosts.

the intense heat causes you to sweat uncomfortably as you work the scene. together, the two of you document the state of the grave and first impressions before moving onto its contents.

throughout the experience, you wonder how long the FBI will stick around. surely there can’t be much for them to do here– Rourke informed you that they’re from the behavioral analysis unit.

as you’re trying to figure out what kind of instrument was used to dig up the grave, a shadow falls over both you and Emma. something in your body already knows who it is. she sighs impatiently and you both turn your faces up to see the man from earlier. the harsh sun behind him creates a sort of halo around his curls. up close, his features seem only more intriguing. hazel eyes flit from the tools at your feet to your expression.

“forensic archaeologists?” he enunciates the title with confidence. you note the strangely intricate design on the head of the cane. peeking out from beneath his hand, there’s an almost antique quality to the carvings.

“how’d you know?” you frown.

“you’re examining the sediment, right?” his tone carries some excitement, which you find both unexpected and refreshing.

“yes.” this time, Emma answers for you. she seems slightly annoyed with this man’s question.

“any ideas?” he probes. you’re reminded that he’s likely just trying to gather information for the profile they’re working on. you look down at the bleached bones for a moment as you recall the conclusions you’ve already drawn.

“whoever did this was using a shovel– probably in a hurry, too, judging by the messy gouge marks around the edges,” you point a gloved finger to the perimeter of the grave. “we’re still unsure of why the grave is here, though. it’s kind of out of the way, even for a homicide.”

“that’s my job, though, isn’t it?” he gives you something of a crooked smile. it’s surprising, really, to see the friendliness of his expression as he talks to you. even with the little field work you’ve done, any FBI interactions you’ve had have been curt and strictly professional exchanges. not that this isn’t professional– it just doesn’t feel as forced.

“i suppose.” you smile back.

once again to your surprise, the man bends down to examine the scene more closely. he leans heavily on the cane. “would you mind if i watched your excavation process?”

your brow furrows involuntarily and you give him a funny look. even Emma seems taken aback by this, which he notices and quickly amends. “sorry, i’m just quite interested in this part.” a blush spreads through his cheeks. you find it endearing. he’s curious.

“why?” the word tumbles from your lips with more of an edge than you intended. you’re just fascinated, if not a little thrown, by his interest.

“it’s such a delicate procedure and i haven’t had the opportunity to watch it at other crime scenes.” he speaks somewhat quickly, suddenly self-conscious of how we’re perceiving him.

“what’s your name?” i blurt before i lose the window of opportunity. if he’s going to be observing the scariest part of my job, then i want to at least know his name.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” that small smile returns, eyes locking onto yours again. there’s a kindness in the gesture that reminds you of fresh-cut grass. he’s got a sunlit energy to him that contrasts whatever ghostliness you first witnessed.

“pleasure to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you withhold questions about such an advanced title at his age. he probably gets them all the time. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Emma clears her throat again and you’re reminded that she’s there. “and this is my partner, Emma Sanderson.”

“nice to meet you.” he gives her a polite look.

“you can watch us excavate if you don’t talk.” she raises an eyebrow at him, then shoots a look over at you. it’s obvious she thinks you’re distracted, but can she really blame you?

“i can do that.” he promises, then steps back to give the two of you some space.

now that he’s watching officially, it takes every ounce of willpower to keep your hands from shaking as you go over the strict rules of excavating. you can still hear your first professor in the field emphasizing how important it is to do this part right– one wrong move and you’ve not only jeopardized the scene, but also whatever conclusions might have been drawn from it. it could ruin the investigation if it’s a big enough mistake.

so you’re hyper aware of Emma’s leading technique, aware of Dr. Reid’s clinical attention to it. almost like being tested.

true to his word, the observer doesn’t interrupt with any questions about the process. instead, he rests patiently at the side until you straighten up from the ground and take a deep breath. your knees are screaming from being crouched so long, so you stretch. time passes differently during these; what feels like five minutes could well be thirty. it doesn’t help that the entire grave will need to be dug up later. the sets of bones poking out of the dirt prove there are at least two other bodies here, but that’s a job for tomorrow.

“that’s it, Einstein.” Emma gives him a pointed look. he takes it in stride, nodding.

“thanks.” he can obviously sense the dismissive energy from her and his eyes travel briefly to the plastic bag you’re zipping shut before thinking better of sticking around.

you watch him go, that narrow frame shifting to head back up to meet his colleague, when your voice surprises you. “Dr. Reid?”

he stops in his tracks. for a second, you swear his grip on the cane tightens before he faces you again. “yes?”

even though you can practically feel Emma burning holes in the back of your head, you jog to catch up with him on the hill. “how interested are you in this whole forensic archaeology business?” your question carries an undercurrent that you hope he catches.

“well, I’m familiar with the basics, but–” he pauses and meets your eye. his teeth tug his bottom lip thoughtfully as he decides how to respond. you’re absolutely intrigued by everything about him. “well, i’m always looking for new things to learn.”

“i’d be willing to enlighten you a bit further, if you’d like,” you place the offer on the table before you can talk yourself out of it. “strictly professional, of course.”

his eyebrows rise a bit at the way you speak, though you catch him nod. he’s a little unsure for a moment. “yes– yeah, that would be great.”

you break into a grin. “great.” the thought of seeing him again sends a jolt of childish excitement through your veins.

“um,” he starts to fumble around his jacket pockets for a moment before pulling out a cream-colored business card. Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavior Analysis Unit is printed in serious letters, accompanied by the official FBI insignia to make it all the more intimidating. he hands it over with slender fingers. “here.”

“thanks.” you peer up at him from the words and see the ghost of a smile on his face. like he’s holding back.

“you’re welcome. call anytime– i’m at the office more often than not.” he lets out a small laugh.

“will do.” you run your fingertips over the business card delicately, grateful to have discarded those latex gloves from earlier. a silence falls between the two of you for a second before he inhales.

“right. i’ll see you, then.” he turns again and heads up the hill, slowly but surely disappearing from your line of sight.

it’s a strange place to feel this way. kind of inappropriate, honestly. you justify it with the professional aspect of helping his unit.

“done flirting?” Emma’s voice nearly jolts you out of your skin. you jump and turn to her, sliding the card into your back pocket before she can find something else to tease you about.

“sorry. i just had a question about the BAU.”

“uh huh,” she nods knowingly. “well, maybe you can invite him to watch our next excavation. this was your best one yet.”

this news makes you beam. “really?”

“really,” she relents and smiles a bit. “now let’s get going. it’s way too hot out.”

a/n:i was thinking about making this into a part 2 with smut?? idk it really depends on demand bc i don’t wanna write it if people don’t want it but maybe!

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

Mature Content Warning

Summary: Y/N offers herself to Spencer desperate to relieve his stress from work and family. In return, Spencer reveals his fear in their relationship.

-

You heard the front door open, and then the shuffle of his keys and satchel being sat down. You could tell just by his voice on the phone earlier that day he was on a rough case. Hearing him like that, and having to call him with bad news felt awful. The center his mother is receiving treatment at called and wanted to talk to him about issues with her new treatment.

“Hey handsome” you smiled walking toward him, hoping somehow it would help. “Hey” he replied with a flat tone, his voice slightly scratchy. A long sigh followed from him. He gave you a very brief hug barely touching you, and then began loosening his tie.

You knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to see you, he just didn’t have anything left. He gave so much of himself to others, some days there wasn’t anything left for you. You didn’t mind, you loved him through it all because you knew he loved you more than anything.

“Are you hungry, I made dinner.” You asked softly, watching him begin to unbutton his shirt. He just shook his head no, not looking up. You expected that, but it was worth a shot.

You cupped your hand softly against his jaw, the beautiful face you had admired so many times. Lifting his face slightly to look in his eyes, the pain you saw made your stomach clench.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered, his eyes instantly clenched shut. “I… I can’t tonight.” He huffed and reopened his eyes, giving you a knowing look that meant please don’t do this. You knew you had to though. “You have to talk about it babe, please.”

“Damn it, I said not tonight.” Spencer yelled removing your hand, retreating toward your shared bedroom. You quickly followed him, desperately trying to think of a way to help his pain. “You cannot keep bottling it all in Spencer. It’s eating you alive.” You stated once in the bedroom with him, his back was to you but he turned swiftly hearing your words.

You jumped at his voice booming suddenly “Talking about this now isn’t going to fix anything. It is not going to make me feel better. It is not going to help my mom get better. It is not going to bring those little girls back to their parents.” His chest heaved against the half opened shirt, you could feel the anger and frustration radiating from him. You finally understood why he was so upset, elementary aged girls were killed during this case.

“Then take it out on me.” You whispered, your voice much smaller than his. His eyes slightly narrowed, surly trying to figure exactly what you were saying. Your voice was more certain this time “Take it out on me please, I hate seeing you like this.”

You stepped closer to him, watching the eternal battle he was having with himself. “No. I hurt you last time.” He replied shaking his head. You slid your hand into his, holding tightly. “That was different, I asked you to do that.” Spencer still looked unsure, he was such a stubborn person.

“I don’t even know if I would be able to control mys…” he started but you cut him off. “I trust you Spencer. With everything.” You whispered, staring into his eyes. He knew you meant it. His chest started raising at an increasing rate, his eyes darkening.

“What if I hurt you?” Spencer asked worry lacing his now soft deep voice, sending tingles down your spine. “I can take it, trust me okay? I want you to take what you need.” You assured him, biting your bottom lip. Judging by how his grip slightly tightened when he glanced down to your lip, you knew you had him hooked.

“Are you sure?” He asked now mere inches from your face, taking in the smell of sweet coffee on his breath. “Use me. Please… Sir” Like the snap of a bow, as soon as the name left your mouth he flipped. He shut it all out, all of his attention now on you.

“Strip now.” He ordered calmly, rolling up his sleeves to the bend of his elbow. You watched as his long fingers folded the fabric, biting your bottom lips at the sight of his now exposed veins up his forearm.

You started with your top quickly tossing it behind you, the same with your shorts. His intense stare made your knees shake, as you fidget with the clasp of the bra. His eyes briefly dropped to your breast as the bra fell. He closed the space between yourselves, roughly taking your chin in his grip.

“I’m going to tie you down and do exactly what I want, and I don’t want to hear a fucking sound unless I give you permission. Understood?” He asked smoothly, you would usually give a verbal response but with the instructions you just quickly nodded.

He took your hand and walked you over to the large bed. After placing you on your back in the center, he reached under the bed to retrieve the cuffs connected to each corner. Once he was satisfied with the restraints he walked over to your shared closet, and you knew he was getting toys.

You watched as he walked back to you, holding his hands behind his back. Gosh, just looking at him caused a pool between your thighs. His wild eyes, shirt hanging loosely on his lean body. “Close your eyes.” He instructed and you complied. You felt his presence next to you, and then a warm finger trace up your side. Your back arched up at his touch, you had to bite your tongue to keep from moaning already.

“I barely touched you.” He chuckled more to himself. Your breathing became heavy waiting for whatever was coming next. You soon found your answer, in the shock of a vibration shooting through one of your nipples. The shock caused you to jolt against the chains you were cuffed to, and a silent gasp escaped your lips.

Your eyes shot open to see the devilish smirk on Spencer’s face, and the wand he held against your breast. He teasingly moved the wand up and down all the sensitive spots of your body that he knew all too well. Everywhere except where you wanted most.

“Awe look at you panting like a little slut.” He snickered while pressing the vibrator directly onto your clit. You couldn’t stop the cry that came from your mouth that time, he quickly removed the wand.

“Tsk tsk. See I was just going to say you could not cum, but now since you can’t be a good girl…you are going to cum…until I say stop.” He growled and roughly pushed the head of the wand to your peak again. Your head shot back against the pillow, toes curling into the covers. You felt him moving around your thigh, you glanced down. Your eyed grew wide at the site.

He used rope to tie the wand against your inner thigh, leaving the head pressed firmly against your now soaked folds. Shit he really was trying to torture you. “Please Sir, I won’t do it again.” You begged, your legs starting to shake from the pleasure. He lifted his head up slowly now finished securing the vibrator. His hand quickly snapped against the left side of your face, you gasped as your head snatched back to look at him.

His dark eyes showed absolutely no emotion, you could feel a tear building in the corner of your eye from the slap. “You do not argue with me, are you going to be a good little slut or do you want me to leave you here like this.” Deep down you think he would maybe do it, and the thought somehow made you want him even more.

You answered shaking your head no, trying to keep your eyes from shutting. “Maybe since you can’t figure out how to keep your mouth shut, I'll fill it for you.” He informed you and then removed his pants and boxers.

He gently straddled across your stomach, you couldn’t help but to stare at his gorgeous dick resting between your breast. He added another pillow under your head, tilting it further up to him. Your whole body stated to shake, you felt the sensation pulling in the pit of your stomach.

“Is my little girl about to cum?” He laughed watching your eyes roll back. Your mouth gaped open as the high hit your body, which he took advantage of by inserting his dick into. Causing you to choke at the surprise, not having a chance to catch your breath from your orgasm. “Fucking take it.” He growled gripping your hair tight, and began literally fucking your face.

The clanking from the chains rang from his rugged thrust, almost drowning out your muffled cries. Your body couldn’t focus on a single thing, between the wand strapped to you not giving you a break from the relenting pleasure. Spencer towering above you, moving his dick in and out of your mouth as he pleased. Your body squirming under him, unable to keep your eyes open from the pleasure you were being forced to receive.

He barely removed himself long enough for you to catch your breath, and along with trying to fight another orgasm from ripping through your limp body it was becoming too much. You almost cried out your safe word, but looking up through your lashes to see his face you stopped.

He looked so beautiful, a small smile finally grew to his face, a thin layer of sweat glistening over his body, his eyes hung heavy with pleasure. He looked like he was finally at peace, even if it was only for a short while you couldn’t take that from him. You trust him completely, and you knew what he needed. You honestly could not say that you didn’t like when he played with you, is satisfied a deep twisted want you always had.

His groans become loud, and you felt him twitch in your throat. He quickly removed himself from your mouth, not wanting to finish there. You drew in a large breath once he removed him self from above you. Relief was only short-lived when you felt your body about to betray you again.

“Please Sir.” You coughed out with a shaky voice from how vigorously your legs were now shaking. “Aw what’s wrong?” He smirked with a wicked smile. “I can’t take it.” You muttered weakly. He leaned in close to your neck “You’re going to be a good girl and take your punishment aren’t you?” He whispered sending a shock down your spine, and just like that you knew you would do whatever he said.

“Yes, I want my punishment” You felt him smirk against your neck. “Good girl…” he started praising sweetly, you weren’t expecting his next words. “Now cum” he growled, your body instantly arched, your eyes rolling back into your head. He watched your body with a satisfied glare, pleased with your orgasm on command. You screamed out his name until your body came back to earth.

You finally calmed down enough to open your eyes, and looked down to find him removing the wand. You let a sigh of relief blow from your lips, causing him to bring his eyes to yours. “Don’t get too excited sweetheart, you’re not done. I’m just going to make you cum myself.“ he corrected my short sense of relief.

“Fuck baby” he huffed once the toy was removed and his sight was focused between your legs. You became slightly nervous until he spoke again. “I wish you could see how you’re dripping all over the bed, my little pussy is all swollen and wet.” He continued, you could tell he had become lost in his thoughts as his facial expression softened.

It quickly changed as he climbed up beside you, and dipped his finger between your folds. You started whimpering again just at his slightest touch. Your body was so sensitive every light touch felt like fire, you couldn’t deny that only he could do this to you.

“Who made you this wet?” He asked as he began to work his long finger inside you. “You did.” You whispered barely audible from you focusing on his finger starting to drive you insane. He wasn’t pleased with your answer judging by how he roughly slammed another finger into your soaked opening, pushing as far as he could. “Louder! Who makes you this wet? Who's fucking slut are you?”

Your air hitched in your throat, at his sudden outburst. His face just inches from yours, the rage in his eyes made you speechless. You had never seen him so angry. You were so taken aback by his behavior you forgot to answer him, which just added fuel to the fire.

“Fine.” He states simply, and quickly removed his fingers. He abruptly went to remove the cuffs at your ankles and then wrist. “I’m sorry…” you sat up and started to apologize afraid he was stopping because of you, but you were quickly cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat, throwing you against the mattress.

“Don’t bother answering, everyone is about to know whose slut you are. I promise.” He purred while situating himself between your legs. He roughly slammed into you, not removing the hand from around your neck.

“Fuckkk” you screamed out digging your nails into his back, your body never gets used to his size. “Shit.” You heard his groan as he started stretching your walls, pounding fiercely not letting you adjust. His grip tightened around your neck, you couldn’t help the devious smirk that grew on your face. He moved the hand on your neck, and landed a sharp slap against the side of your face. You couldn’t help but to moan at that too, not caring if there would be a mark tomorrow.

“There’s my dirty girl.” He moaned out through his clenched jaw. He leaned back onto his knees, watching you falling apart under him. “Please don’t make me again” you begged feeling your muscles starting to tighten around his cock deep inside you. It only made him want to push you further. He reached behind his body retrieving the vibrator again pressing it hard against your clit, not slowing his thrust. “Spencer!” You screamed loud enough for the whole building to hear, clenching into his arms for dear life. 

“Fucking take it. You asked for this.” He growled. You clenched your eyes shut, feeling your climax coming for the fourth or fifth time you had lost track at this point. He began bucking wildly as the toy was also pleasing him as he sunk into your wanting hole over and over. The sight of him pleasing himself while he pleased you was all you could take. “Shit Spencer. Baby I’m gonna… fuck.. Spencer” You couldn’t complete a sentence through your yelled sobs.

“Cum for daddy while I fill your tight pussy.” He moaned out and both of your bodies shook coercing your releases from each other. He fell over onto you, letting the toy roll off the bed. You both gasped in gulps of air, clinging to each other. Once you could finally hear over your own breaths, you heard a sniffle from Spencer. Then a drop of liquid ran down your shoulder and his chest started shaking against yours. Is he crying?

Shit. Spencer was crying, he never cried. At least not in front of you, it had only ever happened once before in your relationship. You cupped the back of his head tenderly, shifting your body, so he could lay on you more comfortably. You didn’t say anything, you just let him cry into the base of your neck. He started sobbing loudly, so you pulled him against you harder and dragged the blanket over your bodies, trying to let him know you were here for him.

“Please don’t leave me.” He stuttered out through tears. “Why wo…” you started to ask why he would say that, but he kept going. “Please. You’re the only thing keeping me together. Please don’t ever leave me.” He was breaking your heart.

“Hey look at me” you stated seriously, taking his face in your hands forcing him to look at you. Tears began pooling in your eyes seeing him look so defeated, with tears still running down his face. He didn’t deserve this.

“I love you more than anything Spencer. Don’t you ever worry about that okay? You are the most amazing man I have ever met, why would I leave?” “Because I don’t give you what you deserve. I’m always too busy or too tired. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t believe him. “Stop it. Now. I am very happy being with you okay? I promise I will tell you if I’m not, please don’t worry about that too. Deal?” You asked, he nodded finally starting to calm himself. You gently wiped the tears from his face, and softly kissed his lips.

“I love you so much y/n.” He whispered laying back on your shoulder, taking your hand in his. “I know baby” you giggled lightly. “Thank you for that, you did amazing. I know I was probably too rough.” “I’m okay, I just wanted to try to help you.” You heard him laugh “I don’t think there is anyone else that would do something like that for me.” “Well I sure hope not” you joked laughing with him.

“I just don’t know how to deal with all of this.” He sighed, you began playing with his hair knowing it relaxed him. “You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m here. Always.” “I can’t ask you to do that. “ He huffed against your neck. “You didn’t ask me, I want to. And you’re stuck with me now love.” You giggled he lifted on his arms and looked into your eyes with a serious expression.

“Are you sure?” He asked searching your eyes. “Yes” you answered without hesitation. “Really sure?” He asked again causing you to roll your eyes. “Yes. Stop asking me silly.”

“Fine” he responded and quickly stood from the bed. He walked towards your closet again, you could hear him moving things around. “What are you doing?” You ask stepping out of bed, the cool air reminding you of your naked state. You started to walk toward the closet wanting to make sure Spencer wasn’t leaving, but your legs were still weak causing you to pause.

Spencer walked back into your bedroom, giving you a nervous smile. “What were you doing?” You asked curiously. He walked close to you gently grasping one side of your face, pulling you into a short but breathtaking kiss. “You’re positive? He asked again after releasing your lips, swallowed hard like when he was anxious. You sighed over dramatically “Yes!”

“Then marry me.” He spat out so quickly you almost didn’t catch it. Your entire body froze like a deer in headlights. “Huh?” Was all you could respond initially, he watched intently as you processed his words. You blinked rapidly finally understanding “Are you serious?” You asked finally breathing, he caught you completely off guard.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” He replied and then held a beautiful ring up in front of your eyes. You gasped, your shaking hand coming to cover your mouth. “I’ve had this for a while, trying to find the right time but I just realized I couldn’t wait any longer.” He smiled still sounding nervous. You felt tears coming to your eyes again, but for a completely different reasons than before. He then slowly dropped to one knee before you, pushing his wild hair away from his face.

“Y/n will you marry me?” He breathed out smiling up at you. You could help but to burst out laughing, he jumped slightly at your reaction. “Umm…does that mean no?” You shook your head trying to pull yourself together “Its just that I never thought you would propose to me naked, or with us all gross covered in sex.” He looked at the situation and also started laughing with you. “I’m sorry you’re right. I can ask you again and make it more romantic.” He replied rising from his knee.

“No it’s perfect.” You smiled linking your hands around his neck. “Of course I’ll marry you Spencer.” He smiled the biggest you had seen in a long time and then picked you up in his arms hugged tightly as he spun you around. He stopped spinning and placed you back on the ground. You took your left hand and extended it to him, he gently slid the ring up your finger. Of course, it fit perfectly, you were so in love with it.

“Its so beautiful” you stared still in awe, tears starting to fall from your eyes.” I’m glad you like it.” Spencer smiled, pulling you in kissing his now fiancé sweetly. “I love it, I love you!” You told him, still pecking at his lips not wanting to stop ever. He laughed into your kisses “I love you more baby girl”