Every Me And Every You - Six
Pacing your apartment you could feel your heart racing. You were nervous. Very nervous.
Spencer was due to arrive in three minutes exactly, and he was always on time.
He’d texted you earlier telling you to wear the same dress you’d worn to Penelope’s birthday two months ago, a purple skater style dress that stopped a few inches above your knees. He asked for a black lace bra and black french knickers. Black heels were required and your hair was to be worn loose.
When you’d messaged back saying you didn’t own any french knickers, you’d gotten a reply stating that stores were open until 6pm and that he was expecting you to be in them. He was starting already.
You weren’t going to lie, it turned you on.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
7PM, bang on the dot.
You opened the door, seeing that your hand was shaking slightly. Calm down Y/N, it’s just Spencer. You’ve been out with him before, tons of times. Admittedly you’d only seen him by himself a few times and never in this situation but still. It was just Spencer.
Pulling the door open you greeted him with a smile.
“Hi!” You hoped your voice wouldn’t convey your nerves.
“Hello Y/N. Can I come in for a second?”
You opened your door for him and stepped back, allowing him in.
“Remember Y/N, red and yellow. Okay?”
You nodded and he smiled.
“Now lift your dress and spin around slowly for me please. I want to check if you’ve followed my instructions.”
Okay, this wasn’t too bad. You pulled on the hem of your skirt and raised it, turning on the spot and showing him the french style underwear you’d rushed out and spent thirty dollars on.
“Good girl. I’m glad to see you made the effort. I’ll trust that the bra is the same?”
It was. You nodded to confirm.
“Excellent. I look forward to seeing that later. Shall we go?”
Picking up your bag, along with the overnight bag he’d instructed you to pack, you followed him out of the door and into his car.
You always forgot that Spencer actually drove, it was rare that you saw him in his car. For some reason he preferred to use public transport to get to and from work, or at least he had until you joined the BAU. Maybe it was because his brain always seemed to be working overtime and concentrating on driving took him away from thinking of other things. The first time you’d seen his car, you’d laughed. He had a Beetle. At 6ft 1, watching him fold himself into a tiny Beetle had tickled you, but then he’d started to ramble on about the workmanship of Volkswagons… You’d stopped listening.
He placed your overnight bag into the trunk and held the passenger side door open for you like a true gentleman.
The drive to the restaurant was quiet, you sitting nervously with your hands folded in your lap. This felt like an awkward first date. But it wasn’t. It was far from it.
Spencer kept looking over at you, sensing the tension.
“Y/N, you’re over thinking things again. This isn’t a date. We’re two friends, out for dinner. Just, talk to me like you normally would. Don’t make this awkward. It really shouldn’t be.”
Okay. Friends. You could do this.
Dinner had been interesting. It was just like the other times you’d been out with him, except you weren’t with the other members of the team.
For the most part at least. They’re had been times when it very much wasn’t like being out with Dr Spencer Reid at all.
When the waiter had come over to take your drinks order, you’d gone to open your mouth to order a glass of wine and Spencer had cut you off.
“She’ll have sparkling water, thank you.”
Will she? Apparently she would.
He’d ordered a bottle of water for the table, watching for your reaction. You didn’t comment and went back to talking to him about a new book you’d been reading. When the waiter had returned with the bottle, Spencer had taken it out of his hands, pouring it for you. You sipped it slowly, looking at him carefully from under lowered eyelids.
When the waiter came back to collect the food menu’s and to take your order, Spencer had cut you off again.
“My companion will have the lamb, as will I. Followed by the Lemon Torte. No starters, thank you.”
“Very good sir.” He collected the menu’s from you both and disappeared to put your orders in.
“Was there any point in even letting me read the menu? Is this how it will be? You making my food and drink choices for me?” you’d asked dryly.
“That’s how some of it will be, yes. Do you have a problem with that?” His voice was different. Not friendly and soft, with a slight tinge of awkwardness like it normally was. It was more like it was when he was interrogating an unsub. Not quite cold, but almost. And there was a hint of amusement to it, like he was mocking you.
“No problem. I just wanted to check.”
He steered the conversation back to literature and resumed his normal banter. The switch in his demeanor was astounding to you. And very intriguing.
When your dinner was served, you sat back, not touching it initially.
“Are you not hungry?” he asked, pausing his knife and fork.
“I just wasn’t sure whether you were going to cut my meat for me or not.” You raised an eyebrow at him.
The look he gave you could have frozen hell. “Don’t be ridiculous Y/N. You’re not a fucking invalid. And I don’t particularly like your tone of voice. Check your attitude please, or I’ll take this as sign of disobedience.”
Dare you ask?
“What happens if I disobey you?” you whispered.
“What happens if you disobey me, Y/N? I’ll take you over my knee when we get home, that’s what will happen.”
“And?” you breathed out, eyes focusing on his lips as he spoke.
“And I’ll be forced to reprimand you with my hand.”
“You mean you’ll spank me?”
“Yes. Five times. On your backside.”
Oh god. Heat was pooling between your legs and you shifted uncomfortably on the chair.
“And there’s that tell tale flush again Y/N. Does the thought of me doing that to you make you wet?” He ran his tongue across his bottom lip slowly.
You didn’t speak, you couldn’t.
“Not answering a question I ask will go down as a mark of disobedience. Answer the question please. Does the thought of me taking you over my knee, pulling your dress up and turning your backside red, make you wet?”
You looked around, sure that other people could hear the conversation you were having. No one had even batted an eyelid.
“Y/N? I’m waiting for an answer. It almost seems like you want me to do it.”
Oh christ… You did. But you didn’t. Yet, you did.
He took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face.
“I think you’ve had long enough to answer Y/N. Not that I need your answer, flushing of the skin, your pupils dilating and your breathing is shallower.”
You’ve had too long? Fuck. Shit.
“Yes! Yes it does… Okay,” you blurted out.
“I know. Like I said, your body language is giving it away. I thank you for confirming it though. And for that, I’ll deduct two strikes. Now eat. Your food is getting cold.”
What had just happened? Had you somehow earnt yourself a spanking later? Crap.
“Eat, Y/N. Seriously, it’s getting cold.” Warmth was back in his voice again.
This was getting confusing.
You tucked into your food, the lamb almost falling apart in your mouth it was so tender, normal conversation resuming between bites.
When you’d finished, you downed your cutlery feeling the familiar sensation in your tummy. You needed to pee.
“Spencer. Don’t laugh. But, do I have to get your permission to go to the bathroom?”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“No you don’t. And I won’t laugh at you. Not cruelly at least. If you need to ask something please, don’t be scared to ask me. I’m not going to judge you at all. I want you to be comfortable here. So please, go to the bathroom. I’m not into stopping people doing that.”
“Good, I’ll be right back okay.”
“Y/N. Whilst you’re in there, remove your underwear.” Said soo casually you weren’t sure if you’d misheard.
“You heard. And drop them into my lap when you return. I’d like to feel how wet you’ve been this evening.”
You’d never wanted to fuck someone so much, than you did at that moment then. You pushed your chair back and hurried off to the bathroom.
As you pulled your underwear down in the cubicle, you could see how turned on you were. That silky fluid that signified that you were excited, coating the fabric of your panties. You finished your business and slid the panties off your legs, balling them up tightly and pushing them into your bag.
You washed your hands and strode back to the table, trying to be confident but sure that everyone could tell you were no longer wearing underwear. They couldn’t, of course they couldn’t. But it didn’t stop your paranoia. Which at the same time, made you even more excited.
Ugh. Please don’t leave a wet patch. The material of this dress was thin.
You stood next to Spencer before sitting down, him looking at you expectantly.
Trying to be inconspicuous, you tugged the black fabric out of your bag and dropped them into his waiting hands.
“Good girl.” He smirked at you.
You turned to move back to your seat but felt him tug on your wrist lightly.
“Y/N. You okay?” His normal, warm tone. Concerned. The Spencer you were used too.
“I’m fine. Thank you for checking though. But honestly, I’ll tell you.”
“Okay. Good. Now sit back down and be careful how you sit. The fabric of that dress will stain easily… ”
He didn’t need to say with what. You knew what his implication was.
Dessert was served shortly afterwards, the Lemon Torte to die for.
When you’d both finished Spencer paid the bill and helped you into your coat, taking your hand and leading you outside and back into his car.
“Spencer? Are you really going to strike me when we get back to your apartment?”
You just wanted to make sure.
“Unless you call a safe word then yes.”
“Y/N. Honest question. Is this weird for you?”
You thought about his question carefully, wondering why he was asking.
“Honestly? Yes. Because it’s new to me and because I never expected this from you.”
“Because I’m so awkward right?” he asked.
“Pretty much. But seeing you like this, I don’t understand the awkwardness. You’re confident like this and it’s sexy. It’s like the tables have been flipped. I’m the one who’s feeling awkward and out of their comfort zone, not that I’m complaining here. Far from it. Is it weird for you?”
“A little bit, yes. But because it’s you. My friend and coworker. I think we were probably as surprised as each other about this aspect of our personalities.”
“You can say that again,“ you commented.
He chuckled and glanced in his rear view mirror, adjusting it slightly.
“Y/N, you know. If you push your seat back, hike your skirt up and spread your legs, I’ll have a perfect view of your pussy.”
Fuuck. His voice when he talked like that.
“Is that an order Dr Reid?”
“It definitely is.” He grinned at you.
You reached under the seat and pulled on the lever, your seat sliding backwards.
Spreading your legs, you hitched your dress up.
“Do you want me to… Erm…. ”
“Not tonight Y/N. But that will definitely be something I’ll have you do for me. Just sit back and relax until we get back to mine. And let me look at that beautiful slit of yours.”
Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
You couldn’t wait to get back to his.