Accidental Snap
A/N: This is an idea of my own that I’ve had in my head for a while. I don’t use Snapchat myself because I’m not that cool, but I’ve always had this idea that the reader convinced the members of the BAU (namely Spencer, Morgan, Penelope, Emily and JJ) to join, and you snap each other all the time. Penelope snaps the reader and asks what her plans are for the night, and she sends back a pic of her legs in the bathtub…but did she send it to Penelope? ;) @coveofmemories @sweetg @hanny-bananny
After sinking into the sensory deliciousness that was your steaming hot bubble bath, you opened your phone to see you’d gotten a snap from Penelope. Much poking and prodding was needed before you’d convinced five of the seven members to download the app. Honestly, you hadn’t even asked Hotch and Rossi overheard you and claimed he was too old for that.
You sipped at the cold beer you brought in with you. The combination of a hot bath and a cold drink - there was nothing like it. When you opened the snap, you snorted, causing the beer to come out of your nose, bubbles and all. If you could see in the mirror, you would’ve been a sight, you were sure. Penelope had made the most jacked up face she possibly could, with a completely unrelated caption, as was her usual mode of snapping.
How are you starting off our glorious free weekend, boo?
You lived for her calling you boo. As you wiped the beer suds off of your face, you clicked the camera to snap her back, taking a picture of your wet, crossed legs in the tub. You were going to be in here for quite a while. You took the picture and pressed send and you closed your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the tub. The water was perfectly hot and filled to the perfect point. When you’d waded in, it came to rise just above your breasts, leaving only your head and knees sticking out into the cool air of your apartment. “Mmmm…” you mumbled to yourself as the sweet smell of the lavender bubble bath you’d added wafted into your nose. “So nice.”
A vibration from your phone brought you out of your bath-induced stupor, so you opened it to tell Penelope you’d snap her later. You were too relaxed.
Are those your legs? Did you mean to send me that?
It was Spencer. The co-worker you wanted to bang more than anyone else in the world, but hadn’t because you worked together. You’d accidentally snapped him a picture of your legs. Why had you even convinced him to download the app anyway? It so wasn’t him. You’d brought this on yourself. Quickly, you messaged him back.
That wasn’t meant to go to you, I meant to send that to Penelope. She asked what I was doing tonight. I’m sorry.
Your heart pounded in your chest as the heat of embarrassment rose from your feet to your head. Goddammit. Why? Such a fucking idiot. The vibrating of the phone made your body jump again.
Well, you may not have meant to send it to me, but…you have beautiful legs. I probably would never have the guts to say that in person, but I figured why not. No need to be sorry.
Wait. Did Spencer have the hots for you too? Oh, this could get interesting. Throwing caution to the wind and saying to hell with the consequences, you messaged him back, right after dismissing a snap from Penelope. She’d forgive you. Frankly, she’d probably want you to ignore her right now.
So you think I have nice legs, Dr. Reid? ;)
If you were both into each other, and it wasn’t just one-sided, then maybe you could have something with Spencer. Right now though, you were in a mood. A delicious mood. A kind of kinky one. Maybe Spencer would oblige.
Yes…that’s a winky face. Garcia said so. Does that mean…you…like me too?
Oh, you poor clueless man, you thought to yourself. Yes. A thousand times yes.
Maybe. ;) I think you’d like the rest of me too.
You didn’t want to explicitly ask him to start up the message version of dirty talk, but maybe he’d get the hint and roll with it. You were separated by miles and miles of city streets and a phone after all.
I know I would. We should probably stop messaging because I’m not going to be able to get the image of you in the tub out my head.
What if I want you to keep the image in your head? You can think of me and I can think of you thinking of me, the way your body is probably reacting to this right now…
Ok, so maybe you’d just say fuck it and start the conversation yourself. The next message took you by surprise. Apparently, being separated by a phone and the fact that you wouldn’t have to see each other face-to-face until Monday emboldened him.
I imagine you’re touching yourself. If you’re not, you should be.
Damn, Spence. You were going to have to make a note of this when you got him in person.
I will if you will. ;)
—
Deal.
While your right hand held the phone over the floor and away from the water, still warm after a significant length of time, your left hand dipped below the water, sliding down your chest and caressing your breasts. You told him so. As you thought of him stroking himself, your nipples turned to hardened peaks and your sex undulated forward of its own accord, seeking out some kind of stimulation.
Are you touching yourself? Imagining it’s my hand instead of yours?
Just as you turned your attention away from your breasts and started moving toward the bundle of nerves that was begging for an insistent touch, he messaged you back.
Yes. I wish it was yours instead of mine. And I wish the fingers that were touching you were mine.
Oh god. He wanted to be touching you. Fuck. When you got him alone and in person, you had to ask him if he felt this way face-to-face and wasn’t just acting so bold because you were separated. While you waited for his next message, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed so you could focus on the feel of your fingers sliding up and down your slit, occasionally applying slight pressure to your sensitive clit.
I don’t know if I ever been so sensitive to anyone else.
It was true. You’d had relationships before. You’d had good sex before, but very rarely had it been great, and you could never recall a time when your wetness was so apparent even in water. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was the situation. Maybe it was a combination of both. All you knew was that thinking of him had you writhing - the water from the tub nearly sloshing out as you moved your fingers ever more insistently.
When you come, I want you to imagine my tongue instead of your fingers.
“Oh fuck,” you said out loud, your walls beginning to clench around your digits as your thumb massaged your clit. When another message came in, saying he wanted to taste you, you lost it, crying out as your head snapped back every muscle in your body tightened. “Jesus, Spence,” you muttered to no one as you messaged him back.
I’ve never come so hard in all my life. For the record, I want your taste too. You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined my lips around your cock.
Your body trembled slightly as the shockwaves wore off and you waited for a message from him.
Jesus, Y/N…I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard either. I know we don’t technically have to see each other until Monday, but maybe we can get together this weekend. In person. Now that I know who you feel about me, I don’t want to wait any longer.
Yes. You were going to get laid this weekend. And it was going to be by someone you’d wanted for nearly a year.
Me either. Tomorrow. Your place.
When the team had gone over for his birthday, you’d seen his apartment. He had an enormous king-size bed, and you wanted to try it out.
Sounds great. And Y/N…first things first, I need your mouth on me.
As you leaned back into the tub again, you thanked the gods for technology - and for accidental snaps.
