Spencer Reid One Shots

My Favourite Christmas Present

“Oh shit shit shit.” Both of your sweaters were covered in the hot sticky liquid and you quickly ripped yours off, seeing Reid do the same.

You ran into the kitchen and dumped some cold water into a bowl, grabbing some kitchen towel. Spencer had taken the worst of the spill and was sitting up on the couch holding his t-shirt away from his skin when you returned. He’d picked up the mug and had used your sweaters to mop up the liquid that had made it on to the floor.

“I’m sooo sorry, Y/N.” He said, looking at you apologetically.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. But…erm… You might wanna take off your t-shirt too. I bought in some cold water in case you were burnt.”

He looked down at his soaked t-shirt and then back up at you where you were standing in your tank top. Hesitating slightly, he tugged his shirt off over his head, removing his glasses too. You crouched down on the floor in front of him, dipping a few sheets of kitchen towel into the cold water and then dabbing them lightly to his chest, where his skin was slightly pinker than normal.

“Does it hurt?” You knew what a bitch burns could be.

“Only a bit. But that’s helping. What about you?”

“My jumper took the worst of it.” You dipped a fresh sheet in, discarding the sodden ones into the pile with the mug and your jumpers. You’d clean them up later.

Pressing the new towel to his tummy, you allowed yourself to look at him. For someone so tall and skinny looking, Spencer was actually quite toned. Not overly muscley like Morgan was, but his body had definition. Not thinking, you ran your hand over his chest, hearing a sharp intake on breath from him. You quickly pulled away.

“Sorry.” You muttered, looking away from his gaze.

“Don’t be. It erm… it felt nice having your hands on me.”

What now?

You looked back to his face, meeting his eyes.

Reaching out with your hand, you tentatively touched his chest again, letting your hand trail over his smooth skin. You shuffled closer on the floor so you were kneeling between his legs, hearing his breathing quicken.

He leant forward, placing his own hand on your arm and stroking the skin softly with his long fingers. The tension in the room as so heavy you would have literally been able to slice through it. You both knew where this was going but you were both waiting for the other person to make the next move.

“Spence….. ” You whispered, wondering if you should state the obvious and just ask him if you could kiss him. You didn’t get chance to. He moved forward, pressing his mouth to yours.

He slipped off the couch so that he was kneeling on the floor next to you, never once breaking his kiss.

Ugh. God, his kiss. One the few times you’d allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him, it had never even come close to this. His lips were warm and soft, moving sweetly against yours before he was certain that you weren’t going to pull away, and then becoming more urgent, more passionate. Your hands were still trailing over each other, yours on his chest, his on your arms before slowly moving to your neck and caressing the dip just below your hairline. You moaned softly, that area being particularly sensitive for you.

Your lips parted and you swiped your tongue against his lower lip feeling his mouth open to you, his tongue meeting yours as you deepened the kiss. He tasted of coffee, probably the last drink he’d had. Slipping your hands to his back, you pushed your body against his, the heat of his chest warm through the thin material of your top.