Call Out My Name [spencer reid x reader] ✔︎

16. wicked games

To say that you looked like a hot mess was an understatement.

Dark hickeys cascaded down your neck, lining your skin with deep, purple blemishes, a bruise forming at the base of your shoulder. The ends of your hair curled naturally on their own, damp from sweat, strands clinging to your face. There were knots, too— big, chaotic knots that looked almost impossible to comb out, your legs quivering where you stood.

To think— just a few months ago, you were asking Penelope why you could never have any good sex, and then Julia had shown up at the bar that night. You'd never expected this was what would happen— standing in a hotel bathroom in the middle of Las Vegas with Spencer fucking Reid moments after he fucked you into a fucking window.

To think— you'd just assumed that you'd be spending the rest of your life having horrible sex like you'd had with whatever the fuck his name was that day.

Spencer stood behind behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he leaned down, pressing his lips delicately to your neck, kissing it. "Come on," he whispered to you. "Let me clean you up."

You knew that it was dangerous— starting to have feelings for your dom. And you knew sooner or later that you were probably going to have to tell him. Communication is key— that's what he'd told you when you'd first started doing this with him.

Spencer guided you into the shower, pushing you beneath the shower head as he ran his fingers through your hair, the warm water beating down your back, washing over you. He leaned down, grabbing the complimentary bottle of shampoo that the hotel had given to you, his fingers pulling the knots gently out of your hair as he scrubbed your scalp, the suds rolling down your body, the water relaxing you in its inviting warmth.

What would that mean, though? If you told how you were starting to feel.

Spencer smiled at you as he pushed you back into the shower, your eyes falling shut and a sigh of contentment rushing past your lips as he combed his fingers through your hair, the soap trailing down your body, cleansing you. You both just stood there, wordless, as Spencer reached for the bottle of conditioner, squeezing it into the palm of his hand before bringing his lips beside your ear, whispering, "Turn around."

Would that mean that things would have to be over between you two?

You did as you were told, facing away from Spencer as he conditioned the ends of your hair, his hands trailing down to your shoulders, moving his thumbs in gentle circles over your skin.

You didn't want it to be over— not yet.

"Does it hurt?" Spencer asked, his fingers brushing over the bruise lightly on your shoulder, your skin burning at his delicate touch.

Not ever.

"It's... sore, but, I'll be okay," you replied, wincing slightly.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself."