Keeping you to Myself

18. Caught in the Crosshairs

A/N: Wow, okay, I wrote this chapter so fast because I loved it. Despite the warnings, I'd say it's still a soft chapter (I swear it has its moments!) if you can believe me. I love you guys! You are all little rays of sunshine in my day.

Warnings: Improper use of an unloaded weapon (g*nplay), handling a g*n, discussions about g*ns, the whole shebang... spitting, choking, daddy kink, little girl nickname, dirty talk, slapping, rough sex, marking, hickeys, biting, CMNF, oral sex (female), fingering, cumplay, nipple play, bathing, assisted masturbation (female and male receiving), degradation, praise

Chapter Summary: Things are turned up a notch for Reader when she steps into new territory with Spencer as they experiment with new things.

Word Count: 7.6k

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"I want you to know that I'm going to take it very seriously."

He was sitting next to you on his couch. The words were nice to hear but you knew that already. You already felt that way about him. He would never do anything to cause you pain without your consent. You felt safe with him, and you knew he would look after you. Every fibre of your being trusted him, and there wasn't someone you thought you trusted more. He was capable, and his hands were careful.

"I know. I trust you so much, Spencer. That's why I'm open to trying it with you. I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't feel safe with you."

He studied you, his eyes roaming over your features.

And then he licked his lips, "Even though you trust me, I'm going to remind you that you can use the safe words at any time, okay? That means even before I do anything, if you start to feel uncomfortable, call it and we'll stop."

You nodded. You were discussing gunplay. It was one of your soft limits, but you were open to trying it if you discussed it beforehand. And you felt safe enough with Spencer to have these conversations.

Guns in and of themselves weren't scary. You could look at one, you could even touch one, and it was fine. It was more intimidating to hold one, but it became a different thing entirely to have someone else hold one on you. And so you had to remind yourself that you were truly the one who had all the power during the scene. If you wanted to stop, he would.

It helped to know how much experience Spencer had with the weapon. He'd handled them for over a decade. He'd been taught how to use them, clean them, assemble them, and take them apart. That made you feel much more comfortable knowing his background, and how much attention he paid to detail. He wasn't someone who would gloss over the importance of handling or using a gun.

"I promise, I'll tell you if it gets to be too much."

"Okay. Now with that out of the way, let's talk about what you'd be okay with."

He began talking about the scene, asking you what kinds of things you were willing to try, and explaining that the gun would be completely unloaded. He gave it to you to hold, to get used to the feeling of the cool metal. You turned it over in your palm, studying the scratched surface of the dark grey revolver. The ridges and divots of the barrel were smooth against your fingertips.

You eyed the polished wood on the handle, tracing your thumb over its surface. Spencer watched you.

"I'm going to clean the gun first, too. That's also important. Any residual material, like gunpowder, will be wiped off. It's safer for your body."

Your eyes flickered up to him, "Is that something I can see you do?"

"You want to see me clean my gun?"