Spencer Reid Gets…
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Reid x OC
Warnings: heterosexual sex
Author: Lily Zen
Notes: I decided that I'm writing a series of short, related one-shots chronicling the evolution of Dr. Spencer Reid in a relationship with an original character. They will vary in ratings, but I am giving the entire series an over-all rating of M due to the mature content some stories will feature. Obviously this one is going to contain some citrus.
Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds or any of the characters from this show. I simply love the fictional character, Dr. Reid, and lust after Matthew Gray Gubler. Should MGG happen to stumble upon this, he should drop me a line, lol.
"Why did I ever let him talk me into this?" Dr. Reid mumbled to himself, sipping at his second brandy, regretting the beer, and feeling the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream.
He should have said no when Morgan asked him to go out after work.
He'd been about to, but then Morgan had somehow shanghaied a yes out of him. Yeah, he was supposed to be the genius on the team, but tell that to the master manipulator. 'Pick-up tips, my ass,' he thought darkly, 'More like a wingman.'
Then, of course, Morgan had struck gold with the honeys, as he called them, and was out on the dance floor, leaving Spencer Reid drinking by himself.
Just then a girl slid into the seat across from him at the otherwise-abandoned table he occupied and plunked another glass of brandy in front of him.
She was very pretty, with classic features, and intense green eyes enhanced with make-up. Her hair was brown, cut short and trendy, and shot through with black and violet.
She grinned as he looked up with a questioning expression and said, "Hey. You looked torn between anger and loneliness, so I thought I'd bring you another drink to calm the first and my fine-ass self over to remedy the second."
As she spoke, he noticed that her tongue was pierced and wondered if it had hurt. Reid smiled for the first time in forty minutes and let out a miniscule laugh. "Thanks for that."
"Not a problem. Name's Alix. What's yours?"
"Pleasure's all mine," she said and they shook hands, "So what's up, Spence? Why are you sitting here all by your lonesome?"
"I came with a friend. He's over there," Spencer motioned over to Morgan on the dance floor, grinding with some woman.
"And he just ditched you for some tail? Man, whatever happened to 'bros before hoes?'" Alix shook her head a little disgustedly, but then quirked a smile. "Not that I'm complaining."
"Why is that?" he replied with a small furrow between his brow, and took a small drink of his brandy.
"Well, 'cause it gave me an excuse to come over here and hit on you," she said with a sort of 'duh' tone in her voice.
Reid promptly choked on his drink and started coughing, which prompted Alix to start laughing. When the episode had passed and he could breathe easily again, he realized that she was gently rubbing his back—had been, despite her laughter, trying to help him through his coughing fit. He was at an obvious loss of what to do.
Alix stated, "Man, you are just too cute," and withdrew her hand. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just…It just…"
"Went down the wrong pipe?" she suggested with a sweet smile.
"Ah, yes." He ducked his head, feeling embarrassed.
"Drink some more," she suggested, eerily intuitive, shrugging one shoulder slightly, "The embarrassment will fade." He took her advice, deciding that it was probably the smartest thing he'd heard in awhile. "So, tell me about yourself."
"Ah, well…like what?"
"What do you do? Let's start there."
"I'm a profiler with the FBI," he replied, grateful to be on familiar, steady ground.
"Really? BAU?" she asked, and he nodded slowly.
"Are you with the Bureau?" Reid asked her, though she didn't look like any agent he'd ever seen.
Her eyes darted around quickly, then she nodded. "Yeah. Working a case over in Mount Vernon. As far as my cover's concerned, I'm at a funeral right now. I'm really not supposed to be here, but I couldn't stand being cooped up in a motel room 'til tomorrow."
Spencer's eyebrows raised in alarm. "Aren't you worried about getting caught?"
She waved a hand dismissively, saying, "Live a little. Besides, I'm careful."
"You could still get caught."
"They won't reprimand me in the middle of a case."
"If you say so." His voice conveyed his doubt.
"Trust me." She winked playfully, and Reid put aside his worries and continued conversing with her.
Over an hour later, both were noticeably tipsier, and Alix had found her groove, flirting fiercely. Spencer was flustered and flattered by the attention, and when Morgan noticed and looked like he was going to come over, Reid discreetly signaled that he should stay away. Morgan grinned and went back to his new lady-friend.
Finally, with her hand on his thigh, she leaned in close and asked, "So, Spencer, are you going to take me home with you tonight or what?"
Utterly flummoxed, he stuttered out, "I…um…"
"You're cute and I want to do you," she added.
"Listen, I'm too drunk to drive, so I'm going to settle my tab up at the bar and call a cab. If you want to, you can come with me. No pressure," she offered, "And if you're not down with having sex with me, I would be perfectly content just hanging out. You can show me more magic tricks." Alix nudged his shoulder playfully with her own and slid off the chair.
He watched her walk up to the bar, eyeing the sway of her hips. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea to leave with her. The analyst, the agent inside of him was listing off reasons: she was undercover, he'd just met her, one in four people will contract an STD in their lives and he didn't have any condoms at home. However, for all his intellect, he was still a man—a slightly drunk one, at that—and watching her as she walked back to the table was swaying his vote in the other direction.
She cocked her head to the side, looked at him with an indiscernible emotion in her eyes, and asked, "Coming?" Her hand lifted, a peaceful offering, and much to his own surprise he took it and stood up.
"Let's go," Spencer responded with a smile, and her façade fell for an instant showing surprise, vulnerability, excitement, happiness, lust. It was so fast, like lighting flashing across the sky, and then she seemed to reign it all in just as quickly.
"Great!" Alix was back to being cheerful and friendly. He wondered if all undercover agents were so guarded.
They left the bar then and got in a cab. Spencer gave him directions to his apartment.
Firmly ensconced in the back of the vehicle, which smelled faintly of sauerkraut for some odd reason, he finally found the courage to ask, "So do you have any, um, protection?"
"Of the Kevlar variety, or are we talking about wrapping prior to tapping?" Alix teased, though she knew what he meant, he was sure of it. There was something in her smile that said she just wanted to hear him say it.
He squirmed uncomfortably for a minute, then stated, "Wrapping."
She giggled, shook her head negatively, and told him, "I'm on birth control, but if it would make you more comfortable, we can stop somewhere on the way."
"It would," Reid admitted, "Though it's nothing…"
"Personal. I gotcha. You don't know me or where I've been. No offense taken," Alix added with a smile and a look of respect on her face, "Are there any convenience stores en route?"
"Ah, yeah…" He asked the driver to stop at the Grab 'n Go down the road from his apartment complex.
"The meter is still running," the driver added as they both slid out of the car.
"Don't worry, we'll be fast," Alix said as she shut the door and followed Spencer inside the building.
They faced their next dilemma as they stared at the condom display. "Why are there so many types?" Reid asked in bemusement.
Alix shrugged. "Different strokes for different folks. Any preferences?"
"Uh, no, I don't think so…"
"I…Average, I guess?" Alix laughed at his hesitance, and he continued, "You know, this is possibly the most awkward conversation of my life. Also, I feel like I've stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Do you have…a preference?"
She shrugged, grabbed a green box and admitted, "No preferences, but I do have a passionate love of the color green."
"You pick out condoms based on box color?"
"Hell yeah, I do. They're all pretty much the same," she grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the register, "So I take it that you don't do this often?"
"What? Meet beautiful women at the bar and take them home with me the same night? Ah, no. Do you?"
"Meet beautiful women at the bar and take them home with me the same night? All the time, gorgeous, all the fucking time," she winked. Spencer laughed outright, feeling some of his tension dissolve under the weight of her wit and cavalier attitude. He paid for the box of condoms, which was surprisingly expensive, and they went back out to find that the cab was gone.
"Oh well," Alix said, "At least we didn't have to pay. How far of a trek is it from here?"
"It's just two blocks down the road."
"Eh, that's nothing."
They walked at a leisurely pace, talking quietly, with Alix easing the tension from him and simultaneously igniting the passion. His hand was still in hers, and he was shocked to find that it felt quite natural. He tried not to over-analyze that.
Spencer's apartment wasn't very large. There was a galley kitchen off of the living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. The furniture was sparse and neutrally colored, and Alix deduced it was probably Ikea, and there was almost nothing personal on the walls or end tables. There wasn't much point to it as he never spent much time there. He had books though—lots and lots of books, which was something she could appreciate. Her eyes scanned the titles, noticing their variety of subjects, though his collection of classics was quite extensive. He noticed where her eyes seemed to be stuck.
"I, ah, read a lot," he told her.
"Me too. I'm a little jealous of your collection," Alix said with a smile, "If I had such a great library, I'd never leave my house, career be damned." She parted from him, inexorably drawn to the book shelves, and he watched her fingers dance over the spines.
"What are your favorites?" he asked.
"Oh, I like a lot of different stuff. Fiction, non-fiction, classics, more modern stuff, plays, philosophy, mythology, theology, essays, poetry…I'm all over the map," she replied as her index finger lingered on a copy of Anna Karenina.
"I guess so. Can I get you something to drink while you're exploring?" He asked the question a little hesitantly, a little awkwardly, like he didn't have many guests—which he didn't.
Alix turned and put her back up against the bookshelves, one eyebrow quirked up. "Do you really want to wait until we've exhausted all our avenues of small-talk, or do you want me to take off my clothes and fuck you stupid sometime before dawn?"
Reid paused, unsure of how to answer. "Is this a trick question?"
She smirked a bit and shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I? You said you didn't have much experience with this sort of thing. I guess I'm just impatient. I'll try to reign in my baser urges."
"No, no, that's not it! I just don't know the protocol here," Spencer hurried to explain lest she leave before anything even happened. He was exasperated with himself and his own social awkwardness.
"Protocol?" she questioned while she unzipped her leather jacket and slung it over the back of his sole armchair. Her t-shirt was bright green with zebra stripes on it, her black jeans were tight, and her Converses had been kicked off at the door. "There's no particular protocol. I guess I'm just used to guys being all up on me the second I show some interest. It's frustrating—your uncertainty, your innocence. Frankly, part of me is saying that I should just keep it PG tonight. Admittedly, it's a very small part, but it's there nonetheless.
"Of course, there's a much larger, much hornier part of me that's saying I should just back you into a corner and take control. Your virginal behavior has me quite on edge." She prowled around the room, alternating her gaze from him to the books, the look in her eyes almost…predatory. "But if you would rather we just talk, that's okay too. I'm not into coercion, at least not in my personal relations." But she was still moving ever-closer to him in that round-about way. "Like I said, I really don't mind if all you want to do is hang out."
Then Alix was standing right in front of him, invading his personal space, smelling of sandalwood and bar smoke, her face tipped up at him, her eyes intense. The eye contact was surprisingly intimate and she was so close to him that it seemed unnatural that there would be no contact between them. All night long she'd touched him—little signs of flirtation and interest—that the space between them screamed to be filled.
The sudden silence was growing unbearable, and she was still gazing intently in his eyes, searching. When she found what she was looking for—whatever it was—she blinked, smiled a bit, and then brushed past him on her way into the tiny kitchen. "So what do you have to drink?" she asked.
Spencer let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, and followed her into the kitchen. "Let me check." Opening the fridge, he stared at its meager contents, chagrined. "Not much, I'm afraid-a questionable half-gallon of milk, some orange juice, and a pitcher of red Kool-Aid. I could make a pot of coffee, if you'd like."
He turned his head slightly to see what Alix thought, and was startled to find himself almost nose-to-nose with her. She giggled at the expression on his face, kissed his cheek, and swiftly pulled out the pitcher of Kool-Aid. "This is good. Where are your cups?"
"You take great delight in throwing people off-balance, don't you?" Reid questioned as he pulled two cups out of the dishwasher.
"To a certain extent, absolutely, but mostly I just wanted to kiss you. Be glad it was only your cheek. If I'd really kissed you, you probably would have melted into a puddle of goo."
"That good, hey?" he teased as he held the cups still and she poured.
As she replaced the Kool-Aid in the fridge, she purred, "You have no idea, sweet-cheeks."
"Yes," she nodded and sipped her beverage, "You have the most adorable ass."
…And for the second time that night, Spencer Reid choked on his drink.
Also for the second time that night, Alix laughed delightedly…and possibly a bit sadistically. "Are you alright? You seem to have a terrible habit of doing that."
"Only because you insist on saying things that cause that reaction," Spencer said when he could speak without coughing, but it was said with a slight smile.
Alix accepted the lighthearted reprimand with a chuckle, plucked his cup out of his hands, and moved to replace the cup with her hips. "Then you'd best stop drinking around me, as I doubt I'll stop shocking you anytime soon," she paused, "And, fair warning, I'm going to kiss you now. Properly, this time."
"Will I melt?" Spencer wondered aloud humorously as his hands tightened subconsciously on her waist and pulled her closer. In the farthest corner of his rational mind, he noticed that she was surprisingly petite for all her huge personality.
"Probably," she replied as she stood up on her toes and brushed impossibly soft lips against his. Her hands reached up around him, steadying herself on his shoulders. Better balanced, she kissed him again with a bit more pressure, lips slightly parted, lingering.
He responded by flattening a hand against the small of her back, pressing her physically closer as he kissed her back mirroring her technique. He felt her start to smile, but before it ever truly formed, she took his lower lip between hers, giving it a gentle tug and then a questing lick. Like she had just inputted some sort of code, Spencer opened his mouth to her and she swept inside, soft and insistent, subversive and persuasive. Her tongue teased and tortured his, jacking his arousal up to a blazing fire.
They parted for air briefly and then resumed kissing, growing ever frantic and intense. Her hands found his hair, fisting the wavy strands. His hands were running up and down her back, feeling her sinewy muscles. Riding a sudden wave of boldness, he palmed her ass and pulled her flush up against him, tight enough that he could feel the soft swells of her breasts against his chest, her belly, and her thighs brushing his.
She mewled in response—it was the only way he could think to describe the sound—and pushed, and Spencer abruptly felt the countertop behind him. He leaned instinctively, slouching a bit so that Alix wouldn't have to strain so much on tip-toe and he wouldn't get a crick in his neck kissing her. The action made her lean into him harder, and she rolled her hips, rocking against his stiff dick and forcing a groan out of him which she simply swallowed into her mouth.
Only when breath became a necessity did they break from each other, panting harshly, but even oxygen wasn't enough to deter Alix for very long. Instead, she simply moved her attention from his lips to his neck, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there interspersed with quick flicks of her tongue and occasionally teeth. Spencer was in rapture, quickly losing any rational thought he tried to have, except, "My bed's really comfortable…"
Alix pulled back with a startled laugh, and replied saucily, "Oh, is it? I guess I'll have to test that out then." It was then that Reid thought to himself that even if Alix's kisses didn't have the power to melt a human being, they certainly had enough power to scramble brain signals, because he hadn't meant to blurt that out. She grabbed his hand and the box of condoms, and tugged him out of the kitchen. However, it was Spencer who led the way to his bedroom.
Like the living room, the bedroom was pretty sparse. There was the bed with a mission-style headboard, a dresser, and end tables on either side of the bed. It was obvious that Reid didn't spend a lot of time there.
Alix didn't seem to mind the lack of feminine touches there, tossing the condoms onto the nearest nightstand, and flopping back onto the bed. She seemed to stand out in stark contrast to the simple navy comforter. "Hm…well, it's comfortable according to the Alix Flop Test, but how does it stand up against rigorous physical stress?"
"I'm not sure," Reid admitted with a nervous smile from where he stood next to the bed.
The young woman smiled, held out her hand to him, and when he took it, tugged him down next to her. "Guess we'll have to find out then." He kissed her then, because damned if he could do anything but when she smiled like that. Alix tugged him close as their mouths moved against one another, tangling limbs together just as thoroughly as tongues. Her ever-curious fingers slipped underneath his shirt to stroke his stomach, and when Spencer groaned, she pulled back and started undoing buttons.
It didn't take long until the shirt flopped open, and Alix pulled away long enough to glare at his white undershirt. "Really? Fucking layers…" she grumbled, and he laughed, sitting up to shuck both items of clothing. Getting naked for the first time in front of someone was always nerve-wracking—there was always that small vein of insecurity that ran through him—but Alix didn't even pause. She just smiled beatifically and placed her hand on his chest.
"May I?" he asked, and it was then that she noticed her shirt, which was tugged up half-way and bunched around her stomach. She bit her lower lip, abruptly looking vulnerable, and then nodded her acquiescence. Alix sat up obligingly, and Spencer pushed her t-shirt up, running his hands along her skin as he did so. When her shirt was tossed aside, her arms came down around him, and they kissed again. He wondered if it was too soon after the removal of her t-shirt to peel off her bra as he fingered the black straps.
Like she knew what he was thinking, Alix reached behind her and undid the clasp, and his hands removed the obstruction. The feel of her bare breasts pressed up against him, her nipples tightened in arousal, drove him crazy, and he pushed them back onto the bed.
His caresses grew more frantic and she became wilder in direct proportion, using teeth and nails more frequently, though with the amount of adrenaline pumping through them, neither noticed the roughness. He heard a muffled sound as Alix popped the button on his slacks and the sound of teeth as the zipper parted. The sudden relief on his straining member made him pant and the feel of her hand on him made him gasp soon after.
"Alix," he said as her hand moved in a torturous rhythm.
"Mm?" she responded, her mouth quirking impishly.
"Jesus…oh…" Her fingers were distracting him, making him lose his focus. His hands tightened into fists, the button of her jeans digging into his left palm, which immediately reminded him what he'd wanted. Spencer pulled himself together and unsnapped her jeans.
The loss of her touch as she stood up to wiggle out of her jeans and her black lacy underwear was almost a physical blow. He took the opportunity to lose the remainder of his clothes as well, and when they resettled on the bed, it was with soft sounds of excitement and eager bodies.
Alix reached over and ripped open the box of condoms, tearing one off with her teeth. "Now?" he questioned quietly as she rolled it onto his length, and she nodded as her breath came quick.
"Now," she replied while she rose up over him and used one hand to line him up with her entrance. He had enough time to grab her hips, and then she sank down on him with a low grunt. One moment there was nothing, and the next he was surrounded in a tight, hot sheath. Alix's back curved as her eyes slammed shut, and then a small smile made her lips curve upward.
She opened her eyes and began to move her hips in an easy rhythm, using his headboard as leverage. It took him a moment, but eventually he found a rhythm to match hers. It didn't take long until she found her pleasure, her body tightening even more impossibly around him.
"Oh!" Alix cried as she came, fisting the blanket tightly.
While her inner muscles were still contracting, Spencer forced her onto her back, plunging into her with long, deep strokes. Her hands clutched at his derriere, pulling him into her harder. "Yes, yes," she breathed out at the end of each of his thrusts like a punctuation mark. Then she bit him on his collarbone and he came with a forcefulness that made him take her lips again to muffle the sounds of pleasure that begged for release.
Like it had been triggered by his own orgasm, Alix shuddered and contracted once more, her head bowing backwards as a moan escaped.
Sometime later when they were both laying contently, partially cleaned up, she finally found her words again. "God," she said slowly, "That was good."
"Yes," Spencer agreed as he tightened his grip on her, lips brushing against her mussed up hair.
They were quiet for a few more minutes, then he asked, "So can I see you again?"
Alix chuckled tiredly as she nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that. I'll leave you my number. It might have to wait 'til I close this case, but I'd like you see you again too."
"Good," he replied, a tired smile crossing his face. There was another moment of quiet between the two of them, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.
"Spence?" Alix began.
"I can't stay. I'd like to, but I can't," she said.
"Oh." His voice carried his disappointment transparently.
"It's the case, that's all. I've got to get back to my motel and check in with my superior early tomorrow morning." She sighed and her breath ghosted across his chest.
"I understand," he said.
Alix sat up, smiled, and stated, "So I'll need your cell or a pen and paper. Your choice."