EVERYTHING - criminal minds/mgg oneshot/imagines

S.R. -- letting go -- smut

summary - when spencer comes back from prison, there's no doubt he's changed, especially in the bedroom.

warnings - cat-calling, inmates describing gross sex things, soft dom!spence, fem!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), fingering, aftercare, bit of subspace, fluff. *let me know if i missed anything*

wc - 3, 758

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spencer had been gone for almost three months. in prison. he was in prison for three months. in hell for 84 days.

you had visited him as much as you could, remembering the times he would be bruised and beaten each time you would visit him. some days his bruises would be even worse than the previous time.

on your visits, the men in the back would holler and cat-call you. you didn't mind, as long as you were able to see spencer. but spencer did mind. he minded that those criminals were thinking things about you that only he, as your boyfriend, should be thinking.

but he couldn't do anything about it.

the few times he tried, he only got beat worse. he wanted to defend you, to let you know that he could protect your image, but inside of that prison he couldn't. he had no power. he had no control.

you told him it was okay.

"i can handle a few whistles, spence," you reached your hand across the table to gently stroke his knuckles. "it's alright," you tried to ease the obvious tension in his body.

"no. it's not alright," he softly argued. "you don't even want to know what they're thinking about right now," he turned his eyes to the table, avoiding your gaze entirely.

"i don't need to know. i just need to talk to you," you whispered softly. "i just need you to know how much i love you."

"i love you, y/n," he finally met your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

when he would go back to his cell, or to eat lunch he would overhear people talking about you. talking about the things they would do to you. the things they were thinking about you.

"she's got a fine ass, too. i would slam it so fucking hard, shit," a large man groaned, recalling the image of you walking out of the building.

"i'd make dr. fbi watch while i did it, too. i don't know how he got a bitch that looks like that," another one replied.

he could only try to tune it out. most of the time it wouldn't work. he would be doomed to the psychological torture of hearing them mention the crude things about you, unable to do anything about it.

so anytime you came to visit, he would have to mentally prepare himself for the worst. he wanted to see you, he truly did, but them saying those things about you made him want to restrict you from seeing him as a whole. but he loved you too much for that, and as selfish as it was, he needed to see you.

he needed your light heart. he needed your kind spirit. he needed your lifted energy. he just needed you. and if he had to do that while taking a bit of the names and annoyances, he would.

and you knew he hated it. so every time you visited him after the first time you would wear sweatpants and a hoodie or anything that would hide your figure. you wouldn't wear makeup, you would try to look as unappealing as you could, just to try and make spencer more comfortable.

but it didn't necessarily work.

the first time you ever visited him, you wore your normal work outfit. a charcoal gray skirt, a matching gray blazer, white button up blouse, and black heels. that was probably the worst it was for spencer. you heard them hollering from behind the glass, trying to get your attention. you played it off cool in front of spencer, in spite of feeling slightly uncomfortable.