seasprincess

[seasprincess]

Ride?

Sub Spencer Reid

warnings: p in v, unprotected, pathetic spencer, whining and whimpering, mommy k!nk!, praise k!nk, his true form

wc:700

Being Spencer’s partner means you know more about him than he knows about himself. He likes to keep his leg hidden, behind walls. But you can break down those walls in a moment and see the truth.

So one thing that was easy for you to understand about him is all his kinks and stuff. Even he didn’t know he liked them. I mean of course he knows about kinks. His reading and research of…certain things lead him down loopholes of things he couldn’t even think of let alone act out.

Spencer feels safe with you. You had created a space with him to feel safe in. And that lead to you and him…experimenting.

Spencer had learnt many things about you and you learnt a lot about him.

He’s a sub. There isn’t a bone in his body that could take control and fuck you. He’d try to please you but he’d always get self conscious and think he was doing something wrong. Or he’ll just start whimpering and whining about how good it feels before being unable to move because of how good it is.

So because of this it usually means you’re in Spencer. Riding him as he holds your hips, whimpering as you go up and down his cock. Raw this time. He will always say how you two should be protected just in case. But after a bad day and frustration you just want to feel your boyfriend inside you.

“You’re such a good boy Spencer.” Your hands find their way to his cheek as you keep going up and down. Thumb gently stroking his cheeks, hips rolling back and forth.

Spencer just whimpers at your praise words as his head falls back against the pillows. Praise kink, he has a BIG praise kink that you use to your advantage a lot.

“Mommy please.” He’s actually pathetic for you, it's so cute. A man of his intelligence reduced down to a ball of mush in your hands just for something as simple as a kiss.

“Please what baby?” You pick up the pace a bit to make it agony for him. He’s not used to all these feelings. You being his only sexual partner means that he just wants to feel everything he missed out on with you. Well maybe not everything, that seems scary to him.

“Please can I cum?” And just like that a man who is classed as a literal genius is asking you for permission to cum. You can’t help but smile as he gives you those puppy eyes. They pull at you all the time. He flashes his big brown eyes at you and suddenly nothing else matters. And how could you ever say no?

“Yes Spencer.” You say before letting out a moan as he bucks his hips. He of course wants to make you feel good too. But sometimes his mind just gets so corked we die to him being so overwhelmed he just can’t think. Poor baby.

Your hand rubs his cheek as his mouth drops open. Eyes rolling back slightly as he just in a state of pure bliss. To be fair to him you had been riding him for quite a while and this boy is very needy.

He doesn’t take long to cum in you. Filling you up good just the way he dreams about. Like actually dreams about. Since meeting you the amount of wet dreams this man has skyrocketed. And they’re always about you. You topping him, you kissing him, you doing other things that he could never admit. He’s too embarrassed. But one day. One day you will get that info out of him.

You didn’t take long to cum either. Not wanting to overstimulate him today.

Well that was the plan until tears prick his eyes and his hand grips yours. Gazing in your eyes with a pleading look as you keep riding.

“Mommy please. Mommy I can’t. Too much.”

You smile at his words as you slow down before stopping. He looks so cute but you just can’t do it to him today. He’s just so sweet.

You slowly slide off him before laying down next to him and putting an arm round him. He leans into your touch immediately. Craving it.

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Oh you’ve actually just shot him through the heart with that sentence.

This was inspired by a post by @/spencerreids_cvmslut on tiktok and the comments.

not proofread x

[seasprincess]

need to hang around chess tournaments i think

LIVE BAU REACTION:

[seasprincess]

i promise i promise i promise i will post a part 2 of unsub spencer im just struggling to write it rn but i will do it i promise

[seasprincess]

thinking about spencer’s hands.

that man has long fingers and they can definitely be used for good. reaching that spot yours can’t.

the veins too. oh my gosh. he would be hesitant on you choking you but you reassured him you really wanted it. and personally i need that

okay thanks

[seasprincess]

i’m so sorry yall for not posting unsub spencer. i promise i haven’t forgotten just supper busy but he will be out in the next two days!

[seasprincess]

I loved your You inspired Spencer Reid fic is there going to be a part 2? No rush your work is great

there is hoping to get it done by the weekend!!!

[seasprincess]

Unsub!Spencer reid x reader

An au where Spencer Reid is like Joe goldberg from the series ‘You’

warnings-suggestive language, smut, use of y/n, mentions of drugging, spencer’s thoughts written in ‘’, misogyny linked through out, probably more

wc:2.4k

this is part 1

Spencer Reid is not a psycho. He’s not some creep like the other men in this world. No. He’s caring because he’s doing all this for you because he loves you. He wants to prove to you that he loves you.

Ever since that day you came into his bookstore looking out of place, gliding through the aisles like a goddamn angel. You were so beautiful as you looked over the books and actually taking the time to appreciate them. Most of the people who come in here don’t care about the books. Just here to take a quick selfie for their instagram to show that they are so mysterious and read. Of course Spencer hates that crowd. He’s always trying to avoid them as much as possible. He’d rather be reserved and by himself. But you, oh you. He wants to be around you.

And from the moment you walked up to the counter with the book ‘The narrative of John Smith’ he knew you were made for him. Sent to him by whatever god or angel that is watching over him. A blessing.

You both chatted about the author, you actually knew the author. Spencer couldn’t stop watching you. Watching the way your hair falls so perfectly as you laugh at one of his stupid jokes that would usually earn some weird looks. But you understood the joke. ‘Oh you are perfect.’ One of his thoughts.

And you flirted with him. He knows you flirted with him. He’s not crazy. He knows he’s not crazy. He’s a man in love that will do whatever he needs to to show you. To show you you are his and he is yours.

He’s not confident enough to outright ask you for your number. The whole idea to him is forehand and terrifying.

But when you got out your bank card to pay his eyes flickered down to see your name. And the stuff he can find with just a name.

Of course he researched you when he got home. He isn’t a fan of social media. Why would someone want to showcase a fake life to a bunch of followers that they didn’t even know? The whole idea was just not appealing to him. But he is thankful that it is too you.

He can find out so much about you. All the embarrassing college memories, all the things you like, what you did on the 21st of May five years ago. Not that he will probably need that information but he can always ask you about the family holiday you went on.

He found out your relationships with your family, your friends, where you liked to hang out with said ‘friends’. He knows all about them too, and he can tell it’s not your crowd. You’re a girl who likes books, likes to write, likes dorky little things. And they. Well they’re just loud mouthed rich party girls who are certainly not good enough. But you have to fit in. You think you have to lower yourself to fit in with them. ‘Oh Y/n, you don’t have to be different with me. You can be yourself with me.’

Your social media portrays different sides of you. Facebook isn't as active as the others. You’re gen z of course it wouldn’t be. But instagram? Oh he’s had fun with your instagram.

A bikini photo of you that you posted in 2021. You look so beautiful he can’t stop staring. His eyes roaming all over your curves and your tits. Oh your tits. He’s a fan to say the least. The thoughts he’s had about them.

Spencer can’t help but get hard as he looks at it. He just can’t stop looking at you and all your photos. Who needs porn when he can stare at photos of you and use that imagination of his?

He usually ends up here. Sat at his desk staring at his laptop screen. stroking his cock as he imagines you kissing him, sinking down on him as you moan his name.

It’s not weird. He’s not weird. He’s your soulmate.

Spencer stands by a tree, trying to appear as normal as possible. His hat and dark clothes allowing him to blend in. He’s trying to make his presence minimal as he looks through the windows. He knows this is okay for him to do, but if you or someone else saw. No one would understand that he’s doing it because he loves you.

It’s late. The sky dark and filled with stars. If only you could properly see them without all this air pollution. But that’s a rant that Spencer will just have to go on another day.

There’s a light. It is a distant street light. Of course it’s blinking every so often. He lives in one of the most famous cities in the world, the big apple, but they can’t afford street lamps that actually work. ‘Typical.’ He thinks to himself before sighing. But all his annoyance melts away as he sees you.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on you as he watches you walk around your apartment in just an oversized shirt and panties.

‘Oh come on Y/n. Walking around in that with the curtains open? Any creep could be watching you. You’re lucky I’m here.’ Spencer thinks to himself. Eyes scanning for anybody that appears to be a threat to you. But all there is is no one. Just you and him. You, and him.

Spencer’s watches as you get changed. Into some small dress that he is definitely going to have to fight some men away from you. ‘Oh you don’t make things easy for me, do you love?’

You’re going out. He can guess that much. The make up, the outfit. You’re going clubbing.

Spencer is not a fan of clubbing the same way he is not a fan of social media. He thinks it’s all stupid. Why would anybody want to be up close and personal with a bunch of sweaty strangers who are dancing like imbeciles. No. It’s not his scene. But if you’re going. So is he. I mean he can’t let you go to one of the places many people are attacked at alone can he? As your soulmate he has to protect you, to watch you. Keep you safe. Safe from the world he knows is willing to hurt you.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts as he hears the door slam shut. His gaze once again falling onto you and how good you looked. The way your breasts are on show from the low cut in the dress. Oh he’s definitely going to be using his eidetic memory to recall this image when he’s alone later. The way they bounce up and down as you walk down the stairs towards what he can only presume is an uber.

Looks like Spencer is going clubbing.

The music is pounding, lights all around the room that would give any regular person a headache. And they have. Spencer.

He’s sat in a corner, out of the way of everyone. He does not want to interact with people. He’s only here to protect you. To watch you.

The heat of the place giving him slight discomfort, he’s not exactly dressed for this place. No, he’s dressed to blend in to the streets of New york. To keep himself warm in the night breeze and not to be in some place that quite frankly might be his hell. ‘Oh Y/n, the things i’m going to have to do for you.’

He watches you dance. Watching how you move so easily and still look so fucking attractive. He knows if he tried he’d look like an idiot. He’d end up embarrassing himself and most likely falling over.

But you. Oh you move so effortlessly he’s actually getting lost in the way you move.

The way you’re laughing and smiling with your friends. He can’t wait to be the one to make you laugh like that. Laugh the same way you did at his stupid joke. He’s never felt love like this. He’s never felt his heart swell and feel so full the way it does when he looks at you. You’re so-

‘Hang on. Who’s this?’ Spencer watches as some guy comes up to you. It doesn’t take a genius to see he’s flirting with you. He’s the opposite of Spencer, all muscular and probably can’t tell his left from his right. And he’s definitely a dick. Spencer can tell he’s a dick. That stupid smile, that look in-

‘Are you flirting too?’ Spencer’s eyes narrowed as he watched your hands on this guy's arm. Why is your hand on his arm?

Maybe you’re just being nice. Maybe you’re just trying to be polite. He can only hope.

If looks could kill, this jock would be 20 feet in the ground and have died a horrific death.

Spencer has been staring him down for the past thirty minutes. Watching you two talk, dance and get way too handsy for his liking. He hates having to see another guy touch you. Only he should touch you like that. He’s actually radiating jealousy. His whole body can feel it. Anger pumping through his veins. He has to sort this out right? He has to stop this guy from taking advantage of you.

Spencer watches you like a hawk as you head off to what he can presume is the bathroom. So as you leave his sight for the first time this evening his eyes fall upon the jerk standing at the bar. Ordering drinks for the pair of you.

Of course he orders the cheapest there is for you.

‘Y/n you deserve so much better than this.’

The guy is joined by some friends, all greeting each other the typical frat boy way even if they are in their late twenties. Morons.

Spencer glides through the crowd. Not wanting to draw attention to himself. He just wants to listen to this douchebag's conversation with his so-called ‘bros’.

“Dude for real she’s all over me. I’m so getting pussy tonight!” He exclaims to his friends which of course doesn’t sit well with Spencer. You’re so much more than a fuck. You’re a smart, talented, beautiful woman who deserves nothing but the best. He knows about your exs, having stalked their socials to make sure he’s perfect for you. That he’s nothing like them. Not that he is anyway. God he has multiple PhDs and they were lucky enough to have even got into college with their grades.

As you return from the bathroom and his frat bros disappear into the club somewhere he decides enough is enough.

This guy is not touching you. This waste of air is not going anywhere near his girl. His soulmate.

“I’m just gonna go piss I’ll meet you outside.” Frat boy says before heading off. Leaving you to make your own way outside. You look uncomfortable, he knows you’re uncomfortable. So he’s going to save you.

He’s going to save you from a night of regret.

Before he can think anymore Spencer follows the guy, following him into the bathroom before he ‘accidentally’ bumps into him.

“Oh man, I’m sorry.” Spencer says before looking at the guy. His chest covered in the liquid from Spencer’s drink.

“You should watch where you’re going bro.” He’s not pleased to say the least. I mean who would be if they’ve just been covered in alcohol?

Spencer scans his surroundings like some spy as his hand slips into his pocket. All the stalls are empty, it’s just them. Him and his current number one enemy.

“Yeah absolutely.” Spencer’s eyes flick back to the guy. Scanning them for a moment before deciding to waste no more time.

He pulls out a needle and stabs him in the neck, quick and fast. The guy can’t even cry out or defend himself before it takes effect. Slowing down everything in his body.

Spencer has to hold him up as he guides him back out and through the crowd. To anybody looking it will look like two guys and one of them has drank way too much.

He has to chuckle and make light conversation with all the clubbers which does not please him but does help his facade.

The cold air hits both of their faces as they exit the building, having to go through a different exit to not be seen but you.

But now he faces another problem.

He has a practically unconscious mumbling man hanging off his arm. The lengths he’s going to go for you apparently have no line he won’t cross.

But to avoid this asshole saying anything when he’s back to consciousness. He has two options.

Kill him, kidnap him.

And seeing as you’re right round the corner waiting for a man that is never going to come. He decides that he can’t miss this opportunity.

He didn’t like killing him. No. It wasn’t enjoyable. But it had to be done. The man was a misogynistic prick. Who was also carrying drugs. Drugs he may have put in your drink. So Spencer is helping out really. One less prick.

As he was a bit pushed for time and in an alley he had to be quick. Stabbing him repeatedly, making sure to not leave any fingerprints and that no cameras were there. Good job Spencer is a smart man and enjoys crime shows.

His disposal wasn’t great either. But he didn’t have many options.

So a bin will have to do. Worst comes to worst he’ll have to come back and move the prick. This guy is just causing issues like he did when he was alive.

But right now all he needs to do is go find you.

As he turned the corner he had seen you. Poor you waiting for that guy to come meet you.

‘You look so good Y/n. You should be waiting for me. Matter of fact I’d never let you wait.’

Spencer’s having to sike himself up to go talk to you. He has a habit of embarrassing himself and he really didn’t want to do that with you. He refuses to do that with you. But the way you two were in the shop. It was so comfortable. So…right.

He had finally reached the stage of being able to head towards you. The nerves will never leave but this is the calmest he thinks he’s going to get.

His feet move before his head. Walking towards you. Palms sweating. Heart pounding.

But before he can reach you, you slip away. Getting in a taxi.

You’re out of his reach and gone.

He’ll just have to wait.

a/n: this is a different style of writing that i’m not sure if i like it. Part 2 will be coming soon.

[seasprincess]

nerd rafe with breeding kink pls 🫶🏻

Rafe slowly thrusts in and out of you as he whines. He’s trying to act like a dom. Trying to act all tough but he well and truly is still the boy who will whine from a kiss.

But he had finally gotten something he’s been fantasising about since he first started jerking off to you at his desk late at night. You had plagued his mind. He can’t study because all he sees is you moaning underneath him.

He knows he has a lot of kinks. That’s apparent when he moaned mommy the first time you gave him a blow job. He really likes calling you mommy. Mommy issues at its finest.

So it was no surprise that he has a breeding kink.

“Wanna make you a mom.” He says as he keeps thrusting in and out of you. It’s not fast, but it’s just right. He prefers to make love than fuck. Well that’s his excuse because the real reason is that you feel to good he genuinely can’t go faster.

And you feel so good without a condom blocking him from fully feeling your pussy. The way you’re clenching around him as your tits bounce up and down. Oh your tits. He actually drools over them. Like actually saliva falling from his lips as he looks at them. So the idea of you getting pregnant and then getting bigger. Oh he’s in heaven.

He whines at the image before placing a kiss to them. His tongue leaving his mouth to lick your nipple. The action sends shivers all through your body.

“I can’t wait. I’ll take such good care of you.” He moans against your breast as he feels himself get closer and closer. “You’ll look so pretty carrying our baby. Please can I cum in you? Fill you up? Please. Please.”

He’s practically whining as his movements get sloppier. And he feels so good in you. He’s big which was a bit of a shock. The nerd from your class who would have guessed? Everyone probably.

You nod as your eyes screw shut. He feels so good and you’re so close.

Rafe moans as he cums in you. Filling you up so good as his lips part. His eyes scanning yours as he moans. He is actually in a state of bliss. And all he’s done is cum in you and think about you pregnant. He’s actually rather pathetic but so so cute.

a/n: well

[seasprincess]

I will be writing Unsub Spencer Reid finally. based off of joe from ‘You’

update: here we are

[seasprincess]

season 1!bf Spencer Reid head cannons

fluff and nsfw

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would get nervous from just your presence. you could be at a team dinner and he would glance over at you, eyes landing on your face. And he gets flustered. Blushing immediately and he has to look away. If he was to continue looking he wouldn’t be able to talk. He’d be a flustered mumbling mess.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would teach you to play chess. He wouldn’t care how long it would take until you got it. He would get a little frustrated with you but that would be because he knows you can do it and you are waiting like you can’t. But as soon as you get the hang of it you guys are playing. Him and his genius means he’ll win every-time but of course he will throw it so you win. He just likes seeing you happy.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who absolutely hated that guys flirt with you. Of course if you were uncomfortable he would stand up for you. Even if it means he gets laughed in his face. But sometimes he gets insecure and will go quiet. Having to sit in the corner as some more conventionally attractive guy flirts with you. From then on he wouldn’t talk or be able to look at you dead in the eyes. He won’t tell you what’s wrong until you practically drag it out of him. He may even get teary. But you’d make him feel better with a few kisses and hugs.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who rambles to everyone in the team even though no one listens to him. You would all be on the jet and he’d go onto one of his interests. Talking and talking until eventually coming to a slow stop as he realised everyone had either turned their backs to him or put headphones in. But then he’d feel your hand on his and see you looking. You’re listening. You’re always listening.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would love when you cook for him. He will be stood watching you the whole time, waiting until you ask him to taste it.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would hold your hand everywhere he could. It took some getting used to. He wasn’t used to being touched in a loving way. But ever since you first did, he thinks about the feeling. Perks of an eidetic memory. Whenever he was sad he’d just think about that. Think about you.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would come to you if he had a problem. You being more confident and not afraid to speak your mind meant you would cuss anyone out who would even look at him the wrong way.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would love kissing you. Like this man would always want to be kissing you if he could. You guys are always making out on one another’s couch. He of course didn’t know how to kiss and you had to teach him. But he’s a quick learner.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who would buy you little gifts and leave them on your desk. He’d be all smiley when he watches you open them. He loves seeing you happy. It genuinely makes him feel the happiest he has. Especially when you throw your arms around him and hug him to say thanks. And don’t even get me started on your birthday. He would spoil you. Make the day perfect. Using his memory to remember all the things you said you wanted to do or wanted to be gifted. He’d be so thoughtful too. Not some crappy gifts. Meaningful things he spent months on preparing.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who looks at you like you’re a prized jewel and he’s been searching for you for years. Cause he has. He’s always wanted to be loved and be seen. And you’re that person who loves and sees him.

nsfw

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who is pathetic when it comes to you touching him. You could just brush his thigh and he would moan or whine. And when you do touch him properly he is a mess. Nobody has ever properly touched him and loved him. So of course you’re sweet and gentle for him. And he loves it.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who eats you out better than any man. He loves doing it. He could be there for hours and he’d be so okay with it. It would make him so happy to just be licking at your core.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who used his eidetic memory for your benefit. He remembers what makes you moan loudest, what you told him he did good, what feels good for you. He really wants to make you feel good. Always above his pleasure.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who is a sub with a mommy kink. There’s no doubt about him being a sub. He’s all shy and sweet he couldn’t be a dom. He’s tried but as soon as you just smile he melts. He’s a whining whimpering mess. The word ‘mommy’ has slipped past his lips more times than he’d liked. He is embarrassed at first. But you said you didn’t care. And that was the biggest relief.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who likes praise and degrading. For a guy who’s inexperienced he has a lot of kinks.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who loves your boobs. Like loves. Low cut top? He’s staring. Tight top? He’s staring. Normal top? He’s staring. So of course it wasn’t a shock when he asks to suck your nipples. He worked himself for days to ask, so who are you to say no?

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who’s always embarrassed when he gets hard. But you of course always make him okay about it. Always helping him out. Wink wink.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who actually died first time you gave him a blow job. His hands were in your hair, grabbing and pulling. He didn’t want to hurt you but he just couldn’t help it. It felt so good. He never knew sexual acts could feel this good. But you showed him good.

season 1!bf Spencer Reid who at first wanted to take things slow. He was nervous of course. Always nervous when you’d even look at him slightly lustfully. But now? Now he always wants it when you get home. Not sex, no. That’s special and he wants that to be special but he wants you so bad. So he’s letting you use your hands when he’s had a long day at work. You suggested it once and my god did it make him feel better. So now he loves it. He’s completely different to the man who wouldn’t even let you clicking his stomach.

[seasprincess]

negan smith x reader short drabble

smut

Negan is a dick. You know he’s a dick. But what you didn’t expect from him to be a dick during sex.

“There’s a good girl. Taking me so well.” You’re spread out on his bed as he thrust into you. Hand gently around your throat as he places a kiss to your forehead. “You’re so tight.”

Your cheeks flush up and turn red at his words. Getting embarrassed at his words.

Negan looks at your face and sees this embarrassment. And what does he do? He laughs.

“Oh sweetheart.” He smiles as he can’t help but chuckle again. It’s a deep chuckle as his hand tightens around your throat a bit. “Gettin’ all embarrassed from my words huh?”

That fucking smirk on his face. You just want to slap it off.

“Stop laughing.” You mumble as his thrusts get faster and you let out a moan. He makes you pathetic, he really does.

“Oh come on baby. Feel so good around me.” He places another small kiss to your cheek.

He’s such a dick.

[seasprincess]

Puppy eyes

Spencer Reid x reader

wc:1.3k

warnings: smut, this is sweet smut, sub/switch spencer, oral and fingering(f), handjob (m receiving), pet names, spencer’s pathetic and whiney x

♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ♡₊˚ ・₊ ♪ ✧ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Spencer Reid knows he’s pathetic at the best of times.

So he definitely knows he’s pathetic as he sits on the bed in front of you. Looking up with those big brown puppy dog eyes. A little pout on his lips as his hands hold your hips in place. Making sure you can’t leave. He doesn’t want you to leave. Not yet.

“Do you have to go right now?” Spencer’s voice is soft as his eyes stare into yours. Scared that if he looks away you’ll disappear.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been called in.” You don’t have a happy look on your face as you play with the curls of the guy you’re looking down on. He’s not happy about this. That much is clear.

“But I might have to go away today. We were supposed to have the morning together.” Spencer’s fingers play with yours.

“I’m sorry baby.” You say as your hand comes up to his cheek and rubs it. Your thumb gently stroking as he leans into it. The pout still on his face.

Spencer’s hand comes to your lower back as he starts to rub. He looks up at you before gently placing a kiss to your inner palm which was once in his cheek.

“You got a bit of time before you go though?” He asks before looking at you with a certain look in his eyes. His hand on your lower back. The slow kisses. It’s very clear what he wants as a parting gift.

“I do.” You smile as your fingers tangle in his curls once again. His smile is soft. Those puppy eyes coming back as he asks the next question.

“I need you.” It almost comes out as a whine. He’s begging for you. He’s begging for your touch. And begging for you to let him touch you.

You smirk down at him as both your hands come to your cheeks as you stroke them with your thumb. The sunlight through the blinds highlights all the features of his face.

You walk forward before sitting on his lap and placing your lips on his. Softly. Sensually.

Your lips move against his as Spencer’s hands start to move over your body. The loose shirt and pyjama bottoms give him any access he chooses.

Spencer smiles against you before pulling away.

“Can I make you feel good baby? Please.” Even when he’s trying to be all nice he’s all pathetic. Begging for you to let him do something. Anything at this point. His dick is so hard in his pyjamas just from kissing.

You nod your head and he wastes no time to gently place you back on the bed and get in between your legs. He looks up for consent. Making sure you want to.

You smile to give him that reassurance and his hands come to your waistband, pulling it down and exposing your bare cunt to him.

And he is a happy man to say the least. He’s practically drooling at the sight. Placing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He wants to be slow. To be sensual. This might be the last time he gets to taste you for a while and he is going to make the most of it. Right now he doesn’t care if you’re late for work. All he cares about is his sweet girl that’s in front of him.

Spencer’s kisses get closer and closer until finally reaching the heat between your legs.

Your mouth falls open as you let out a little sigh. Spencer’s ears practically perk up at the noise. Any noise, name or word that comes out of your mouth when he’s touching you makes something inside him twist. He loves it. He loves you.

Spencer’s hand comes to your lower stomach and rests there. He knows your one to arch your back when he goes down on you. And he wants to make sure that doesn’t happen.

He can’t hold back though as his tongue leaves his mouth and licks a strip up your slit. He practically groans at your taste as you moan. Hands finding his hair again.

“Spencer.” You moan out as he starts to kiss and suck on your clit. He can’t help but let out a noise. A mix of a whine and a moan at you saying his name and pulling his hair. “Spencer baby. Please.”

He keeps going. Eyes closing as he keeps sucking. The feeling of you shaking slightly and the moans in his heaven. It even crossed his mind that he might be dreaming. That he hasn’t even woken up yet.

His two fingers find your entrance and rub in a circle. Collecting the wetness he knows he’s created. And it makes him happy. Evident by the way he’s smiling slightly against your pussy.

His fingers slowly enter you, curling and moving just the way you like it. His memory comes in handy here. He knows everything you like, don’t like. What makes you moan the loudest.

Your legs shake slightly as he begins to speed up. Feeling more and more confident Spencer got this boost.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine out as he keeps going. Fingers moving in and out. In and out. His warm breath on your cunt just adds to the situation. You can’t last much longer. Not with the combination of his tongue and his fingers. It’s just not possible.

So to his pleasure you cum. And he doesn’t waste any of it. Licking it up like a desperate man. Actually, not like. He is a desperate man. He’s desperate for you. He’s desperate to make you feel good all the time.

“Did I do okay?” Spencer asks as he pulls his head out from in between your legs. He likes to know he’s done well. Makes him feel good inside. He likes the praise.

“Yeah honey. Really good.” You breathe out and smile. Leaning back against the pillows and letting your high calm down.

Spencer smiles at your confirmation, feeling all warm inside. And also feeling hard. Very hard.

“So what can I do for you?” You ask as you look down at him. And something in Spencer’s brain finally switches and he turns into the subby guy you know.

You know that look and all you do is pull your pants back up, sit back down next to him and place your hand over his bulge.

He lets out a little whine, looking at you back with those puppy dog eyes. He’s so far gone he would let you do anything. Like anything. He just wants you.

You start to rub as he starts whining and moaning. His eyes closing. Just wanting to feel you.

Your hands pull his pants down. Spencer lifts his hood to help you of course.

His dick springs out and that earns a smile from you and a whine from him. But as he was so nice to you you decided to be nice to him.

Your hands wrap around length and start to stroke.

And of course he’s gripping your thigh. Moaning as you smile at him. He really needed this apparently. He hadn’t had a release in over a week and it’s got to him.

“Please please.” He whimpers as you place a kiss on his lips and smile. Hand continuing your movements as he kissed you back. This whole event has been slow and sensual. And he loves that. He loves having you and being sweet.

“You gonna cum for me baby?”

All Spencer can do is nod. Words lost as he mains again.

It doesn’t take a lot for him to cum. And he’s breathing hard and he’s trying to slow it down. Trying.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

a/n: i’m backkkk. I don’t know how long for but i need to write again. This isn’t period read and i’m falling asleep writing this x

[seasprincess]

hello everyone I will come back and be writing again soon but currently assignments are killing me off soooo

be back soon!!

[seasprincess]

MDNI

I’m thinking about sub!Spencer Reid. More specifically jerking him off. His whines and moans as he gets overstimulated from already cumming once. Then twice.

“Please please. I can’t take it.” He’d whine out as his hips buck, holding him in place would be great too. Whispering in his ear that he can take it and he is going to.

He’d cry too. 100%. All his little whines getting caught in his throat. The mix of edging and the feeling of being jerked off could almost kill him.

His moans are the cutest too. He’d get louder as he gets more comfortable. Even if you have done this multiple times and done worse he gets awkward and nervous.

I also believe this man has a mommy kink. He definitely was embarrassed about it too. But he’s come to terms with the fact you don’t mind. He whines it too. He feels pathetic and embarrassed but he definitely gets aroused so much.

God I need to hear him whine right now.

a/n: typing with nails is harder than i thought. I don’t know what this is either just thoughts.

[seasprincess]

Two man but my friend couldn’t make it

MDNI

warnings: smut, threesome, degrading, praise, oral (m recive), p in v (unprotected), this is pure filth inspired by a caption i saw on tiktok, there’s probably more warnings

wc: 1.2k

a/n: not proof read and this is an au where rafe and jj are friends.

You don’t really know how you ended up in this situation. It had progressed rather quickly. Not that you were really complaining though.

“You’re so pretty.” Rafe says as his arm wraps around your shoulder. Pulling you closer into him as his fingers trace patterns. His eyes scan your face to see how nervous you are. He notices the way you’re avoiding eye contact. And so does the line boy next to you.

“He’s right baby. Such a pretty girl.” JJ says as his hand runs up your thigh to the hem of your shorts. Slowly slipping a finger into it to keep stroking.

You freeze up as you know what they want. And it both excites you and makes you nervous.

“You said she isn’t a virgin right Maybank?” Rafe eyes flicker to him before back on you. Seeing how your cheeks turn red at his words.

JJ just lets out a small chuckle as he squeezes your thigh.

“Yeah, she’s not a virgin. But I bet she’s still tight.”

Rafe smirks as he kisses your cheek, hand coming up to play with your hair.

“I bet that cunts so tight. And we’re gonna to find out sweetheart. Is that okay?” JJ asks as he looks at you. All of a sudden the bed feels hot, everything feels hot.

“Y-yes.” You choke out, wanting to make sure they are aware how much you want it. Which they already know.

“She’s a slut. I told you.” JJ says as he looks at Rafe. Talking to him like you’re not there.

“Oh I didn’t doubt you. I’ve seen her outfits.”

“Maybe we should get her out of this outfit.”

A grin grows on Rafe’s face as he stands up. JJ follows his action before helping you stand up.

They look over you like a piece of meat, so hungry to do all the things in their head.

Rafe’s hands make their way to your shorts zipper as he looks into your eyes. Turning your back towards JJ who’s working on pulling your top off.

After not much effort they’ve stripped you. Leaving you in your matching set that took you ages to choose.

The two boys start to undress themselves before JJ fiddles with your bra. Letting it fall to the floor.

Rafe’s eyes look over you before you’re turned so JJ can see you. Staring at your tits as they push you onto the bed. Not too forcefully, they do want to be rather sweet to you. Even if they’re about to fuck your brains out.

“I want to be first in her cunt.” Rafe says as places a hand on JJ’s chest. The tent forming in his boxers matching JJ’s.

“I’ll take her mouth. Is that okay baby?”

You nod eagerly as you smile. You do really want that.

Rafe walks closer to you as he pulls off his boxers. His cock hitting his stomach as he pulls you closer. He brings his index finger to your clothed pussy. Rubbing it slowly as a wet patch starts to form. Which makes Rafe let out a small chuckle as he moves to your clit. A little moan escapes your lip.

“We’re gonna make you feel good sweetheart.” Rafe says as he captures your lips in a kiss, hungrily kissing you as he pulls down your panties. His hands rake up your body as he starts touching your nipples. The noises that come out of you are pornographic. And all Rafe is doing is smirking smugly.

“Can I go in you raw princess?”

“Rafe we said we wouldn’t.” JJ pipes up, stopping his movements of rubbing his cock. The sight of you two is just too much to just watch.

“Look we’re both clean and she’s on birth control right sweetheart?”

You nod as Rafe turns to JJ. Pulling a ‘see’ face.

Rafe turns back to you as he looks into your eyes. Watching for any signs of uncertainty. But when you look up at him with that look, the look of wanting him. He can’t help but pull your lower half closer. Rafe kneels on the bed as he lays you down fully, putting your legs over his shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He once again looks into your eyes. But when he sees that you’re as eager as him he slides in.

You let out a moan, even if it is only the tip in you. Rafe’s big. Rafe knows he’s big. So he slowly pushes into you, moaning and groaning like you are.

“Fuck. She is tight J.” Rafe says as he looks to the blonde boy who’s sitting in the chair at the end of the bed. The same blonde boy who’s stroking his dick to the picture of Rafe fucking you. He doesn’t really know how long he’s going to be able to keep his hands off of you.

Rafe groans as he enters you fully. Your cunt sucking him in as he has that stupid grin on his face.

Rafe starts slowly thrusting in you. Picking up the pace with every thrust before he’s at a speed that is a little uncomfortable but god does it feel good.

“Oh god sweetheart. Such a good slut huh?”

You can’t reply verbally but the way your eyes roll back in your head is enough of a reply. And of course the cocky bastard just chuckles.

After a while the blonde boy who’s been banished to the chair has had enough of his own hand and starts to make his way towards the bed.

Rafe sees him walk towards the pair of you and slows his movements before coming to a stop.

“Rafe.” You whine out, that orgasm that was building being abandoned.

“On your hands and knees baby. Gonna help JJ out too.”

You obey straight away. Positioning yourself between the pair. JJ’s dick in front of you Rafe’s lined back up with your entrance.

The two boys look at eachother with a smirk before Rafe enters you again. JJ doing the same with your mouth.

They both begin thrusting and you grip onto JJ’s thighs as a small chuckle escaping his lips. Looking down at you as he stops his movements as his dick hits the back of your throat. Making you gag, the mascara you put on to make yourself look all pretty for the boys is now starting to run down your face.

Rafe smiles at the sound of you gagging as he looks down to where he’s entering you. Watching his dick work in and out of your cunt.

“She’s so wet J.” Rafe says as he groans, feeling his orgasm building up. JJ who is also close can’t help but groan too. The way your mouth is wrapped around him, licking and sucking.

“She sucks cock good too.”

It doesn’t take long for you all to get to the brink of orgasming. JJ first in your mouth. Letting it go down your throat as you swallow. Which JJ praises with a ‘good girl.’

Rafe cums in you next, filling you up with a loud groan that just pushes you over the edge. Cumming on his dick. His cum starts to slowly drip out of you as he pulls out.

You lay down on your back as you pant. Able to regain your breath after finally being empty.

JJ presses a kiss to your head before Rafe places a kiss on your breast. He’s always been a tits guy, he just can’t help it.

“You ready for a swap sweetheart?”

Oh this is gonna be a long night.

[seasprincess]

lose some, win some | Spencer Reid Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut 18+, MDNI Summary: COLLEGE AU! When your debate team loses the national championship, you and Spencer return to your shared room and find a productive way to take out your frustrations. Content: Waldorf!Reader is a sore loser, lots of dialogue in the beginning, Sassy!Spencer, some talk of misogyny, Spencer makes up for it by being a munch (so f receiving oral), virgin!Spencer but he’s also a little shit, they are both little shits but it’s cute I swear, handjob, raw p in v but reader mentions she is on the pill, creampies, multiple orgasms for both of them (they’re frustrated and horny give them a break) Word count: 4.8k (it's porn with a plot for once) A/N: Not really frenemies or rivals, they’re just really angry young adults. Idk what Spencer’s actual age was in college, but he studied several times so for this fic, he’s on his third degree and is 21. If the debate stuff is incorrect, I'm sorry. I did do some research but there's so many different rules and styles lmfao. My friend who competes says it’s fine and understandable so :) also massive thanks to @just-call-me-by-yn @mggslover and @notlongtolove for helping me brainstorm and @wheresmacoffee because she was there JK  ILY ANDY their banter during the filthy part is for you <3.

Spencer Reid doesn’t particularly care about the prestige that comes with winning. Most people crave it for the validation, or because it’s another impressive thing they can slap onto their resumes, but being a genius his entire life allows him not to worry about that. His academics speak for themselves. He doesn’t need to pad it with extracurriculars. Instead, he enjoys the skills that are honed from debate—learning to listen to arguments, finding the perfect way to rebut, memorization and reviewing with like minded individuals. The university team is a well oiled machine composed of four people— him on his third degree, two other male juniors, and you, the only woman.

Over the span of two semesters, he’s memorized the quirks of his teammates. It’s essential to building rapport, after all, and he’s eager to get something good out of this. Something less academic, and more social. Friends, perhaps. While he’s formed a bond with the other members, you have always been an enigma. Stoic and ambitious, you remind him of a statue. Cold and oh so beautiful. You’ve often kept to yourself. And after several rejected attempts at friendship, he’s learned to just observe from afar.

He knows from experience that observing allows you deep insight into people, and so he knows after two semesters that you’re perhaps the most competitive out of the entire team, the most hungry for a win. This drive, he suspects, comes from a deeply rooted desire to prove yourself, though he’s unsure why. What else do you have to prove? You have everything, as far as he’s concerned. Keenly intelligent, beautiful, with a circle of friends that adore you. You aren’t like him, who has to sink his claws deep into this debate team in order to get a dose of social interaction. No, you have a life, no matter how marblesque you may seem.

And yet, somehow it’s still not enough for you.

He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous, and absolutely fascinating.

The weekend of nationals is taxing. You’ve been fighting for the opener role since the semis, but it would require too much adjustment, which no one is willing to risk so close to nationals. Not only does he not want to give up his spot, he also knows how ruthless you can be as a rebuttal speaker. He's meek, and you have a tendency to be aggressive, it's why the original roles go so well. 

Your adviser agreed, and there’s been tension ever since. 

To make matters worse, hotel arrangements somehow have placed both of you in the same room. The force of your resentment is palpable even to a normally clueless guy like him. Distracting. Pages being turned in your exaggerated annoyance. He’d complain of dramatics, but he doesn’t want to start anything. 

The fact that you’re rooming together also doesn’t help him. Sure, there are different beds, small twin mattresses on either side of the room, but still. Proximity to a woman his age has him anxious for reasons entirely unrelated to nationals. 

So when you lose the championship, his concern for your reaction behind doors overwhelms the regret of losing. 

No one is happy with the results. It is obvious from the set of his jaw, the tenseness of your shoulders. Spencer tries to calm down, accept defeat with a modicum of grace, at least in front of other people. He can tell the rest of the team is trying too, but quite unconvincingly. Onstage, accepting the medals for second place—mockingly silver, and no trophies—the team’s smiles are forced, plastic. 

Back to the hotel rooms are a different story. When you slam the hotel door shut, it echoes down the hall and makes even your debate adviser flinch. It would have made Spencer flinch too, if he hadn't already expected it. He's grown accustomed to how bad of a loser you can be. Like a tornado, your anger spares no one from its destruction. It is in these moments that your stoic resolve crumbles, no longer unfeeling, but rather fully human. Hurtful. Ruthless Unfortunately for him, he's directly in your line of fire.

He catches bits and pieces of your muttered diatribes. He’s used to those too. Normally, he would have ignored them. Losing sucks the energy out of a person, regardless of how uncompetitive he is. Besides, your ranting is mostly harmless, until one sentence snags his attention.

“— knew I should have been the opening speaker —”

He is clawing at his tie, trying desperately to get it off, but the words make him stop immediately. He whirls around, brows furrowed, “What?”

You pause as well, “What?”

“What did you say about being the opening speaker?” He watches you roll your eyes. It does nothing to calm the bitterness in the back of his throat. The normal song and dance goes like this: he’d say a string of words in an attempt to soothe the fire burning in your nerves, and you'd say something so vitriolic he'd refuse to speak to you for the rest of your time together. 

But today, having just lost the biggest championship after working so hard, he's a short fuse and your words are incendiary.

“I said I should have done it, like I asked—”

“Ah, as usual, you're mad that you didn't get what you wanted.” 

An offended scoff. He's almost proud he managed to pull that out of you. “You take too long—”

“Nationals isn't the time to suddenly alter the roles,” he tells you, shaking his head. He manages to loosen the tie, finally, tossing it on his bed with so much aggression it misses the mattress and lands limply on the floor, “I've always been the opening speaker.”

“Yes, and one would think that after going through so many debate competitions,  you would learn to be more succinct,” you snap, shoes making harsh clacks against the tiled floor, “The goal isn't to let us know you're the smartest person in the room, Spencer, it's to set up the tone and groundwork of—”

“I don't need you to lecture me about being the opening,” he interrupts, “I know what my role requires of me.”

“Do you?” Eyes flashing, you walk to him until you're almost chest to chest, “Because we still lost.”

“And you blaming me?” he hisses, leaning down. He hates doing this, stooping to your level of pettiness. Normally, he would choose to be the bigger person, refusing your verbal sparring; he likes to focus his energy on the actual debate, the opposing team, not his own teammates. But your words cut deeper than normal; it isn't the fault the team lost, that's just a flat out lie, “We advised you multiple times to memorize the statistics—”

“Something you're better at!” You look physically pained to admit his superiority, but the words spill anyway, “You'd be so much better to do the rebuttals since you have your stupid photographic memory, and I can set the tone better, but nobody on this little boys club ever listens to me!”

He's surprised at the choked tone your voice has taken. In his mind, you're a complete equal—you made it to the team through hard work and impeccable skills, like the rest of them did, after all. It didn't matter that you are a woman to him, so of course his instinct is to deny. “That’s not true.” but even his voice sounds weak. 

How would he know if it’s not true? He’s never been in your shoes before, never had to reckon with what comes with being the only woman in a team of men.

“Isn’t it?” he flinches at the venom in your voice, “You all act like I'm an afterthought—I get the shittiest positions even when I know I can be more effective in a different one, no one ever asks me for strategy, hell, you never invite me to your stupid chess games.”

His mouth opens and closes foolishly, latching on to the one thing he has a full response to, “I thought you hate chess.”

A sharp laugh, petulant and bitter, “I do, but it would have been nice to be included.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve turned around, yanking off your pristine maroon blazer so roughly he’s afraid it might rip. The silence that grows makes him itch, hands balling into fists as he tries to think of what to do. Social dynamics have always been a thing of mystery to him. 

He wonders if he is part of this problem. He’s no stranger to feeling different and on the outs, and it pains him to think that he inadvertently caused someone else to feel that same, unpleasant exclusion.

But, no. Quickly, he recalls every single time he’s tried to include you—a museum trip that you’d declined because you had a party you wanted to attend. His extra tickets to the Nutcracker.

“That’s not true,” his voice is firm now, following you until he’s standing right behind. Lavender hits his nose and his brain registers the scent of your shampoo. Definitely too close if he can smell that, but he refuses to back away, intent on getting his point across, “That’s not true, I’ve tried to— you were always too busy.”

“What, I’m a liar now?” you spin around, pretty features twisted to somehow express both anger and hurt. He almost falters. Almost. 

But he’s too worked up, even though he knows he should back off, to not trivialize your experiences in order to defend himself. He should know better than this, but the sting of your accusation spurs him on. So he pushes, eyes narrowing, “Last year, September 14, 21, and 29, I invited you to come with us for several casual chess tournaments, you declined all invitations because you claimed you hated chess. October 29th, I told you about the new exhibit they were displaying—”

“It was Halloween weekend, I already had plans—”

“December 19th, I offered you Nutcracker tickets and you said you’d already seen it—”

“I have,” your voice has grown quiet now, and if he stops speaking for a single moment to look, your features have relaxed into something gentler. But he’s on a roll, and you have always been right about things; his inability to be succinct is one of them.

“Even this year, I invited you to study multiple times, but you’ve always had prior plans,” the words are spoken with neutrality. He isn’t even angry anymore, just eager to list everything down and let you know how hard he’s tried with you. Even after the numerous rejections, he’s made an effort, but of course, you have other friends, other plans outside your nerdy debate team. He’s never held that against you, but if you wanted to point fingers, he has the means to defend himself. And sure, he wants to prove you wrong on some level too, but that’s the lesser point. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than me, and just accepted, you wouldn’t be feeling so excluded.”

“I don’t act like I’m better than you.”

“You just said you would have made a better opening speaker.”

You scoff, “Oh my god, you’re infuriating, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you!”

Spencer bristles at that, “I’m giving you the facts, it’s not my fault you can’t handle them.” he says, leaning closer, trying to make her see his point, “You’re always so closed off and the other guys have just given up trying. Maybe if you—”

“What? If I smiled more? Acted less like a bitch?” you sneer, eyes narrowed dangerously, “I thought a genius like you would know better than to use misogynistic language like that.”

“Wha— no! Don’t put words in my mouth.” Spencer replies, shaking his head. The conversation is devolving into something dangerous, the air crackling with something electric. He assumes it’s anger. They will never get anywhere, so he sighs, softening slightly, “I never said that. I’m just pointing out that you weren’t blameless in this, you know?”

You’re silent. He watches you, takes in how the resentment in your eyes have been dulled by something more contemplative.

He continues, “Listen, I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel like you were on the outs. I’m sure we have to do so much reflection as a team and as individuals about how we treat each other, but it’s unfair to say that we never include you when I have actively been making efforts to—”

Your lips are upon him. 

That’s inaccurate. 

You are upon him, arms flung around his neck, body pressed flush against his. He feels the entire world tilt, and he’s unsure if it’s because you’re pulling him down or because your lips are so pillowy he’s instantly eager for more. Wants it like a man starved. Needs it, needs more, but his body betrays him. Whether it’s his inexperience or surprise or a combination of both. He freezes, blinking rapidly at the sight of you. Eyes shut, and face so close to him; so, so close he can count each individual eyelash, see the tiny freckle on your eyelid that gets hidden if your eyes are open.

And then you're gone. The freckle disappears as you look at him with wide eyed mortification. 

“Shit, Spencer, I—”

It’s his lips that cut you off this time, seeking out the velvety warmth of your mouth. Your lips part under his, and he registers a sound, soft and whining. It takes him a moment to realize it came from him, from the back of his throat and muffled by your lips and tongue and oh you’re both falling.

Literally. He must have leaned too far into you; you’re suddenly collapsing, forcing him down because your arms have him in a vice grip and he’s too busy chasing after your lips. The next thing he knows is he’s on top of you and you’re sprawled on the bed beneath him. Time stands still; he’s painfully aware of how cliche that is, but every sense of eloquence seems to have been expelled from his brain as he takes you in; lips swollen and wet from his kisses, pupils blown wide. Every breath you take pushes your chest up against his, and he can feel your heart thrumming against his body. 

“Well, that was one way of shutting you up,” you chuckle with a cockiness that makes his heart speed up, though it isn’t borne out of embarrassment. Every single physiological effect of your body is evidence that you’re enjoying this, telling him you’re just as worked up as he is. The breathiness in your voice, the quickness of your heartbeat. 

The fact that you’re pulling him down again, legs hooking around his hips. He surrenders to it, lips meeting yours once again, deeper and more desperate this time.

He closes his eyes, relishing this, kissing you, touching you, an act he had believed is reserved for attractive jocks and charismatic art nerds. Not him, quiet and lanky, shifting to avoid his angular bones from digging into you, and to place himself more comfortably on the bed. Inexperienced, ungainly, and yet here he is, his tongue pushing into your mouth in his first forays into something that his peers have experienced years ago.

Spencer Reid isn’t used to being the one behind, doing the catching up. Child prodigy, genius, the words aren’t meaningless. He’s been ahead academically—which, up until this point, has been his whole life. But feeling warm lips beneath his own has him reconsidering some of his life choices. 

The kiss is messy. Sloppy from his clumsy attempts to keep up with your eagerness. You’re tugging at something, and he realizes it’s to untuck the rest of the crisp shirt you’ve donned for the debate tournament out from your skirt. His hands settle on your waist, finding smooth, heated skin from where your shirt has ridden up. Careful fingers help push it up, burying under the fabric until his palms are mapping out the slopes of your body. 

Soft. So damn soft. 

Not cold marble after all. He theorizes you must be soft everywhere, and he decides to test it out with his lips, laving kisses along your jaw, down the sweet, musky skin of your neck where your perfume still lingers. Instincts take over and he allows himself a taste, tongue darting out. You shudder, so he does it again, greedy for your pretty moans and gasps. 

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, “Thought you were mad at me?” he mumbles, trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. 

You’re all mhms and ohhhs right now, so far from the usual image you present to the world, a preppy, manicured woman who wrestles for control over everything. You must hate this, he thinks, being beneath him physically, caged within his arms which are deceptively strong for how fragile he looks. 

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Make me.” His grin is dopey when he lifts his head to meet her gaze.

Something brushes against his crotch, and now he’s the one gasping, jerking in surprise at the friction. You’ve slotted your thigh between his, and his traitorous body responds by grinding down on it shamelessly. The look on your face is smug, triumphant.

“Huh,” saccharine and mocking, you blink up at him innocently, “That was easier than I thought.”

His head drops to your neck again, but he isn’t kissing you anymore. Just open mouthed breathing as he rubs himself on your thigh, hands tightening on your sides, “Mhm.”

“Are you gonna come? Spencer, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He sinks his teeth into your flesh to fight the needy whines because yes, he’s so embarrassingly close and you’re both still fully dressed. He hears a hiss, and he backs off immediately, murmuring apologies, “Didn’t mean to—”

“‘S okay,” you tilt your head back, give him more access to your neck, “Just don’t leave marks.”

Permission to bite. He gulps, heart beating wildly, before ducking back down. Chapped lips run over your neck, finding a soft spot to bite, forcing himself to soften the way his teeth sink into your skin. All the while rubbing himself on your thigh because it’s probably the closest thing to heaven a man such as him will ever experience. 

He hears your laughter, your mocking cooes of, “You’re so fucking needy” but he can’t bring himself to care.

You’re correct, he decides, as you usually are. He’s needy, desperately so, eagerly chasing the delicious pleasure of dry humping your thigh. 

“Hold on, Spencer.”

You push him back gently. A whine rips from his throat, “Mhm—why?”

He gets his answer soon enough. Your hands undo his belt and he swears this sets his whole body on fire. Nobody’s ever seen him like this. Never has another person touched him so intimately, seen him so out of control, so brainless. He’s babbling incoherently as your hand strokes up and down his length, his hips rutting into your hand. It’s out of sync. Two dancers on entirely different rhythms.

Your laughter rings in his ears, one hand tangled in his hair as the other does unspeakable, tantalizing things to his aching cock. 

“Mhm, can’t— I’m gonna—” and he’s spilling into your hand, hot, viscous liquid overflowing from your hand and staining your skirt, “Ah, shit.”

He collapses against you, head on the crook of your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “‘M sorry, I’ll– I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

Your chest shakes as you laugh, “Would you? I think you owe me more than that.” The heat in your voice makes his breath catch in his throat.

Soft kisses press upon your neck as he gathers his thoughts, willing his brain to work again. Anatomy, female anatomy. Female pleasure. What does he know about this? A lot, surprisingly, though mostly from books. Mostly in theory, but that’s a start. He can put them to practice right now. His hands drag down your sides until they catch the waistband of your skirt. “May I?”

“Okay.”

He pulls gently, exposing the rest of your thighs and legs. Honey brown eyes devour the expanse of your skin, hands clutching at the softness. He marvels at the way your flesh accepts his own, bright red splotches imprinted from his fingertips.   

He thinks of poetry, the uncountable amount of words and phrases written to immortalize women and love and sex, and he finds himself wishing he has the skill to compose something as beautiful, something worthy of you right now, radiant and half naked and somehow all his. 

But he is no poet, so he touches his lips upon your body instead. Pretty words will escape him, but his lips can speak even without them, he’ll make sure of it. He kisses down your abdomen, making sure to pay attention to every hidden freckle and birthmark he comes across. Your reactions make him feel drunk, to the point of affecting him physically. Messier kisses. Hands tugging and nearly ripping the lace of your panties because he’s unaware of his own strength. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles, “So pretty.” It’s all he can repeat, but then his tongue lands on your slick heat and suddenly words are forgotten in favor of vague groaning. Because how can he accurately describe the sensation of this? Tasting you. God how has he gone so long without this? Your nails scraping his scalp, his fingers sinking into your thighs as he keeps you still. He’s halfway off the bed, legs dangling off the edge, your thighs squeezing his face. 

There’s nowhere else he would rather be. 

He laps at your folds like a mad man, tongue pressed flat and dragging up slowly to get as much of you in his mouth as possible. His feet find the floor, allowing himself more stability to once again rub his growing erection against a solid object. The poor mattress is going to be ruined once they’re done.

“Faster,” you gasp, jerking your hips into his face, “Spencer— oh, yeah like that!”

Spencer Reid is a quick study, and when he hears the positive reactions, he doubles down until he feels you convulse against his tongue. You jerk so violently he has to hold you down. He pushes his tongue past your entrance experimentally, and feels you tug roughly on his hair in response, gasping his name and God’s name in slurred phrases as you ride out your high.

It’s the hottest damn thing he’s ever experienced.

 “Jesus Christ,” you gasp, and he has to repeat that ridiculous sentence again, because it’s true and he feels you deserve it.

“You’re so pretty.” He fears you might be some kind of magnet, because his lips keep getting drawn back to your skin. He lets his kisses travel up your hip bone, before grinning up at you, “Even when you’re being insufferable, you’re still so beautiful.”

“Gee thanks,” you huff, pulling at his arm, “How romantic, I’m swooning.”

“Might not be swooning, but you did just come on my face.” brilliant rows of teeth flash at you as he smiles smugly.

“Asshole.”

“Is that how you say thank you?” he drags his body up lazily, draping himself over you.

“I’m not— wait, are you hard again?”

“Uh…”

“Needy, needy boy.” you pull him down to you, and he almost protests, his chin and mouth still covered with your slick. But you don’t seem to care, so he follows your lead, God at this point he would follow you anywhere at all. You’re shifting beneath him, and the next thing he knows is your legs are wrapped around his waist again, your heat completely exposed and pressing against his cock.

“Mhm,” he pulls back, eyes wide, “I—”

“What?” you whisper, lifting your head to continue giving him kisses, teeth playfully nipping at his jaw, “It’s fine, I’m on birth control.”

“It’s not that,” he can’t deny you, his body relaxing back down over you. His lips catch yours for a moment, slow and achingly tender, “I’ve just never really done this before.”

He waits for the inevitable laughter. Here he is, at 21, and somehow still the same person he had been when he first entered college at 14. But you continue to look at him with heavy lids, breathless and flushed. 

“Okay,” your voice is kind, sweet, “Take it slow then.” your hand wraps around his length again, the movement slower this time, as you align him to your entrance. He hisses as the sensitive tip grazes against your folds, as he feels your entrance slowly give way to him and envelop his cock. 

“Oh,” he sighs. With your help, he sinks halfway into you, one hand gripping your hip, the other bracing himself on his elbow. Eyes squeezed shut, he stills and manages to ask, “Are you okay?”

You don’t speak, and so he forces his eyes to focus and look at you. The sight has him twitching inside you. Mouth agape and eyes hazy, you’re nodding up at him wordlessly as your hips rock up into his. “More.”

It’s exhilarating. He’s known you for the past year, worked alongside you but respected your need for distance. And now, here you are, not merely close, but one. Spencer sighs, and thrusts shallowly, eyes zeroed in on you and your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want it to end too soon, so he moves slowly, dragging out his cock until only the tip rests inside you, then sliding into the hilt.

It elicits the most mellifluous sounds from you, making him smile in relief. He lets his forehead rest against yours, thrusts growing more confident, but still in that slow, almost dreamy pace. He memorizes every detail of this moment, from the way your eyes flutter closed, to the quiver of your legs as they wrap tighter around his thighs. 

“So good,” he hears himself say, “God, you feel so good.”

“Mhm,” you nod, nails digging into his back, even through his clothes. In the heat of the moment, you’re both still half dressed, only getting rid of your bottom clothes in order to get what you need from each other, “More, Spencer, I need more.”

He nods, letting his thrusts grow faster, rougher. It’s an awkward angle, he’s afraid his knees will start cramping, but the feeling of being surrounded by your warmth, drowning in your moans has him reckless. “There?” he grunts, angling just so, and he can’t help the smirk on his face when he feels your walls clenching around him.

“There, there, yes!”

He’s not sure how he manages to last as long as he does. Maybe it’s the sheer desire to feel you fall apart, for his cock to be drenched in your slick that keeps his release at bay. Maybe he has too much pent up sexual energy that’s just been dying to come out. Whatever it is, he’s thankful for it, because it means he’s spending more time inside you, hips moving with so much impact he’s pushing you forward with each thrust. 

“Yes, just like that.” you’re shuddering beneath him, and he moves his arm to the top of your head, creating a barrier between you and the headboard so you don’t hit it. He could stop, readjust your positions, but he doesn’t have it in him. 

No, he wants to stay inside you, forever if there’s an anatomically feasible way to do it. But unless he invents it, he’ll settle for right now, settle for the heat between your bodies, and how you’re practically melting into the mattress, arching so prettily against him.

“You close?” he murmurs, one hand finding your clit, drawing gentle circles with his fingertips.

“No fair,” you whine, bucking into him, “That’s cheat— Spencer!” 

You come undone in the most enthralling way, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip bitten by your own lips. You squeeze and flutter around him, and he’s helpless to stop his own release, spilling deep inside you with a broken cry from his own mouth. Your name is whispered, over and over again, until he stills, his vision blurry as he collapses against you.

He curls around you, trying to get as close, “You—that was—wow.” 

You giggle, still breathless and glassy eyed, “Are you sure that was your first time?”

“Yes,” he gives you a series of kisses along your temple, “Yes, it was. You—wow.” he carefully pulls out of you, hissing quietly when the cool air conditioned air hits his sensitive flesh. “Was that enough of an apology for not including you to our chess nights?”

“You’re making jokes now?”

“No,” he smiles, leaning away to look at you, all starry eyed and boneless, “Not a joke. Because if it’s not enough, I can do it again.” a kiss to your cheek, “And again.” one on the tip of your nose, “And again.”

When you laugh in response, he cups your cheek, “I mean it.” he says with all the seriousness he can muster.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Does this mean you’ll accept my invitations now?” he lights up, a large smile splitting his face.

“Only if it’s a date.”

"Then it's a date."

[seasprincess]

sorry but this is so absurd like i know this man whimpers so pathetically in bed