Warning: smut🔥 (finally, I know)
Word count: 2,400
It was 9:14 a.m. and you still weren't at your desk diagonal to Spencer. You'd never been in later than 9:05, and that was on a bad day. The weather wasn't bad, traffic was at its usual horribleness, your alarm had never failed to wake you up before. Spencer knew all of these things and was scrounging for any logical reason you'd be 14– now 15 minutes late. If it was bad, you would've called him, right? You're friends. He checked, no notifications. So why were you so late?
Spencer finally got too antsy and attempted to call you. It rang for thirty seconds and timed out to your voicemail. You were glued to your phone, there was no way you wouldn't have seen him calling. He swiveled in his chair to look up at Hotch in his office through the slitted blinds. He wanted to check in and see if you had called in sick or something, but didn't want to subsequently rat out your tardiness if you hadn't.
He pushed himself up and briskly walked to Hotch's office, giving the door a soft knock, still watching the elevator for you to arrive any second. He poked his head through, greated by Hotch glancing up from his computer.
"Hey, um, has (Y/L/N) called you?"
Hotch peered through the window towards your empty desk. The office phone had no missed calls or voicemails displayed. He pulled out his cell, seeing that it was now 9:20 and he had no messages. "No. You haven't heard from her either?"
Spencer worriedly nodded, fiddling with his sleeves. "She didn't answer just now."
Hotch stared for a moment, picking up on Spencer's obvious worry. He gave you a quick call on his cell too for good measure—no answer. "That's very unlike her. If you don't mind, drive out to her apartment. Update me."
Spencer nodded again and hurriedly scooped up his bag on his way out. Your apartment was fifteen minutes away. He managed to get there in ten.
Throwing his car into park and twisting the key to kill the engine, Spencer noticed your car still in the parking lot. He didn't know if that made him more or less anxious. He hopped out and made his way to the third floor, out of breath after jogging up the flight of stairs. He scanned the small signs on the wall and numbers on the doors. Apartment 3104.
"(Y/N)?" he called, knocking loud enough to wake you up if you'd been asleep. He waited, but no response. Jiggling the doorknob, he felt a small wave relief in the fact that it was locked, only to be interrupted by thoughts of other possible events. He fished out an emergency key you gave everyone on the team, swearing you would have their necks if they dared to kick down your door in any situation because you wanted your deposit back. Spencer took a step forward, hand hovering on the gun nestled against his hip.
He peaked around every corner as he made his way to your bedroom. Knocking on the cracked door, he repeated your name. No response. He pushed it forward. The lights were on, bed empty and unmade. His eyes followed the light flowing in from the ensuite bathroom doorway. He carefully stepped towards it, taking in his surroundings. Nothing looked particularly out of place. Humid air brushed against his face.
He called out again, no response. So he pushed the door, peering inward. And that is where he found you, on the floor of your shower, slumped against the wall. He hurriedly crossed the small room to swing the shower door open, plucking the towel off of the rack. Your skin was still flushed, though the water was off. He placed the towel on you as his slid one hand under the back of your head, and the other on your cheek.
A breath escaped your lips in a slight groan, and Spencer finally took a breath of his own. It came out more as a gasp, and he felt his legs grow weak.
"(Y/N)," he coaxed.
Your eyes flitted open and closed a few times before finally settling on Spencer's figure.
"Spence–" a groan interrupted your speech. You lifted a hand to the sore area on your head.
"Did you hit your head?" Spencer asked, gently turning your head to assess the damage. It wasn't bleeding, at least. "Did you pass out from the heat?"
It was then that you remembered you were naked. You clutched the towel laying over you and suddenly felt even warmer in the face. Spencer stood and rummaged around in a nearby closet, pulling out multiple washcloths. He ran them under some water from the sink before returning to you. He placed the cold rags on your forehead and across your arms and chest.
"I'll get you some water and Tylenol."
After a few minutes being nursed back to health by Spencer, your head felt a little less foggy. Spencer offered to help you up, very obviously adverting his gaze as far as he could as he held your arm. As you stepped out onto the tile, your dripping wet foot slipped slightly. Spencer's free hand flew around your back, halting at your opposite hip to steady your gait. You clutched the back of his shirt for the rest of the walk to your bed. After you were safely sat on the edge, Spencer took a step towards your dresser.
"Do you care if I open this to get you some clothes?"
You shook your head. He soon returned with pajamas and underwear and placed them beside you.
"I'll be just outside, I'll tell Hotch we're not coming in today."
We? Was Spencer taking the day off to babysit you?
He left the door cracked slightly, and you heard his muffled voice on the phone. You managed to get dressed, your head feeling a lot clearer now although it was still throbbing. Spencer knocked before rewetting a cold cloth and laying it across your forehead.
"You're the best," you hum. The light from the bathroom caught his face in just the right way as he smiled down at you and your breath hitched in your throat. You cleared it.
"Um, so, are you staying?" you asked, trying not to sound like that's desperately what you wanted.
"I think someone should watch you for a while since you hit your head, just to be safe. I already cleared it with Hotch." He brushed his fingers along the side of your head. Thankfully there was not a bump growing.
Little touches like this had not gone unnoticed by you these past few months. In fact, they were all you could think about.
You sat up, bothered by your wet hair soaking into the pillow. You ran your fingers through it, encountering some knots. Spencer noticed and went to retrieve a hairbrush. You held your hand out when you saw him approaching with it, but instead he moved your pillow to sit behind you on the edge of the bed, and began gently brushing your hair.
Your hand hovered in the air for a moment before you let it fall. Spencer Reid was brushing your hair. You sat up a little straighter, now overly aware of your posture. As Spencer brushed through a small tangle, he placed a hand on your back, just below your shoulder blade. Your muscles tingled and twitched beneath his fingers. You nearly leaned back into him and hoped he didn't notice. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and closed your eyes.
Spencer's fingers brushed the sides of your neck as he gathered your hair together. You could feel him separate the strands and begin to braid. As he gently pulled the strands to weave them together, you didn't noticed that you actually had started to lean back now. Spencer's hand found your shoulder just as your back reached his chest. You jolted, but Spencer's hand held you steady, telling you to relax. In his other hand, he still held your half-braided hair.
Abandoning the braid, he moved his hand to your other shoulder. His fingers felt unsure as they brushed down your arms. You could feel his breathing change, his strong heartbeat.
You shifted to face him. His eyes focused on yours, breaths shallow through his parted lips. He suddenly enveloped you in a hungry kiss. Your hands threaded into his hair as his pressed into your hips. Forcing himself to pull back, he caught his breath for a moment as you stared into each other's eyes, searching for any doubt. He slowly brought a hand up to the back of your head, fingers grasping your damp hair to tilt your head back before placing small, tentative kisses along your neck.
You let out a shaky breath, excitement building in your chest as the kisses trailed down and across your collarbone.
"Spence," it came out as a whisper. Your fingertips dug into his shoulder blades, silently begging for more.
His hand held the back of your neck as he trailed back up to your lips, teasingly slowly. You toyed with his tie until the knot loosened. He pulled back as you slipped it off and tossed it to the side.
"You're so beautiful," he panted. His eyes were dark with desire but still gentle. "Do you feel okay?" he checked in.
"I feel great," you emphasized as you reached for his shirt.
He watched intently as you untucked it, then started undoing the top buttons. His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs dipping into the hem of your pajama pants until you were done, and he shimmied the shirt off. You admired his body for a moment, hands gliding up his torso before wrapping around his shoulders. You both collapsed into the bed.
Spencer propped himself up on his elbow as he kissed you, tugging your shirt up and only separating to take it off. His lips immediately went to your chest and down your abdomen. He paused at your pants, glancing up for permission.
"Please," you whimpered, already lifting your hips.
He slipped your bottoms off with a smile, placing a kiss along your hip bone as he fiddled with your underwear. He pulled it to the side and his tongue flitted against you. You desperately gripped the sheets. His eyes bounced up to meet yours again and you were captured in the sight of him. He hummed contently into you and the vibration drove you crazy. You laced your fingers in his hair as your hips rolled against your control.
He replaced his tongue with his fingers as he eagerly comes back up to kiss you. His tongue roams around yours and you can't focus. You reached down to unbutton his pants and he finished taking them off. You palmed the buldge in his underwear and he let out a moan.
You sat up and pushed Spencer down, giving him a peck on his lips, then his neck, then chest, and down his abdomen. His breathing became fast and excited as you pulled his underwear off, freeing his erection.
"You don't have to," he interjected, his hand laying on yours. "If you're still feeling weak I don't want you to over exert yourself.
You met his gaze now, and god was he beautiful from this angle. You only gave him a smile as you wrapped your hand around his cock. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling, head falling into the pillow as you slowly pumped. The string of moans he let out was delicious and fueled you to keep going, speeding up just a little.
You paused to bring your mouth to his cock, tongue swirling around the head before closing your lips around the shaft.
"Oh– fuck, (Y/N)–" Spencer breathed.
He held the back of your head with one hand but didn't push you further, letting you set the pace. You experimented with different tongue movements all while still pumping at the base. Spencer's grip in your hair suddenly became tight as he held your head still. You glanced up to see him a panting mess.
"Stop, I'm gonna–" he took a few breaths to calm himself before switching your positions.
His fingers played at your entrance before dipping in, slowly and gently. You hummed with pleasure, feeling his fingers curl inside of you. He added his tongue to the mix, flicking over your clit as he continued to finger you. You couldn't hold the moans pouring through your lips as your legs tremored. Spencer grew ravenous, and you could see it when he looked up at you, hands now planted on your thighs.
"I'm on the pill."
That was all he needed. He hiked your legs up enough to position himself at your entrance. He looked for your approval again.
"Say it for me," he caressed your thigh, pulling you in more.
"Fuck me, please, Spence."
He leaned forward to hover over you, one hand by your head and the other positioning himself until you felt it slip in. It stretched your walls, but he was gentle. You held onto his shoulders as he thrusted deep into you. You let out a squeak, and his next thrust was gentler. He peppered kisses on your neck again and you melted into him.
He increased his pace, now wrapping his arms under you to hold your bodies together. You held onto him, your other hand lost in his curls.
"I'm gonna–" he cut off.
"Cum in me," you encouraged, legs wrapped around him now.
His bucking became frantic, and eventually you felt his release. After a couple more slow pumps, he collapsed on top of you. You held him against you, both breathing hard until he pulled himself out of you. He crossed to the bathroom and returned with a towel for you both to clean up with.
You laid there, holding each other for a while. His hand brushed through your still damp hair as he kept your body pressed against his.
"You know, I was afraid when I helped you out of the shower—after knowing you were okay—that I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about you naked." His hand brushed up your arm lovingly. Your face become flushed.
"At least now I don't have to."