#sub!spencer reid

[reidsdaisies]

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x gn!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; spencer just looks too irresistible in those damned short-shorts. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; horrific ‘banter’ (reader is just a tease), sub!spencer, handjob. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.8k

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Dork,” you snort.

“What!” Spencer practically squeaks, spinning back around to look at himself in the full length mirror.

“Nothing’s wrong with it.. you just look like a dork.” You laugh again, using your elbows to sit yourself up against your pillow. “Where’d you go to get that outfit anyway?”

“Well, Morgan suggested a place that sells workout clothes, and so I kind of may have bought an outfit from the first mannequin I saw. But I think I picked well. I read that wearing a sweatshirt while working out can help with warming up, lead to an increase in blood flow, and can reduce my risk of injury.” He rambles off, working on fitting a sweatband around his forehead.

“You think you’re going to get injured?”

“Well, I have been trying to be more purposeful with working out, but by the end I always feel lightheaded, though that’s to be expected. And, you never know, I may trip and fall on my face. It happens even when I’m not working out. The sweatshirt could cushion me.” He shrugs, turning back around to face you. “Less dorky or more dorky with the sweatband?”

“Definitely more dorky.. but also adorable. It’s very much adorkable, and very much what you’d wear when working out.” You giggle, moving over to the edge of the bed.

Spencer finds himself moving closer towards you, standing right infront of where you sit criss-crossed on the comforter.

“One day that’s going to get old, (y/n).”

“No, one day you’re going to get old and you’ll still be an adorable little dork.” He just huffs, rolling his eyes, but you catch the little smirk before it’s too late. The playful glint in your eye shimmers, and if you were a cartoon character, there would be a giant bright lightbulb over your head. Your hands naturally found their way to his hips, resting against the blue material of his shorts. “..these really are short, aren’t they?”

He gulped, watching with intent as you slide your hands a few inches down from his hips, reaching his bare thighs in less than a second.

“What are you doing, (y/n)?” He breathes out, almost sounding like he’s panting.

“Helping you with your pre-workout stretch..” you mutter, slipping a hand past the waistband of his shorts.

“You’re supposed to stretch your legs before a workout not—“ he chokes on his words, getting them caught in his throat as soon as your hand cups his length, giving it a tug. “that.” He shakily squeaks his last word. You chuckle.

“Are you always this hard before your workouts, Dr. Reid?” You taunt him, hand moving up and down his erection, thumb swiping across his already leaking tip.

“N-no you, y-you, um,” he tries to speak but he can’t get the words right, stumbling over them. You stroke him leisurely, making a show out of sighing and rolling your eyes to the side, not even looking at him as you stay sitting on your knees on the bed before him, getting him off with just your hand. “(Y-y/n),” he stutters in an attempt to get your attention back on his face. He lets out an unabashed moan, sounding downright sinful.

“God,” he groans as your pace picks up the slightest bit. His droopy gaze follows yours, landing on the wall clock.

“What time did you say she was picking you up?”

“Te— oh fuck, ten thirty!” He exclaims, hips bucking forward into your hand as you touch him just right, paying good attention to the man’s balls.

“Hmm,” you hum, thinking carefully about the next step in your plan to absolutely destroy this man. You turn your head back towards him, using your free hand that was squishing and digging into his thigh to push his shorts and underwear down, letting them drop on their own and pool around his ankles. “How many times do you think you can cum in 20 minutes?”

“No, no (y/n).” He protests, shaking his head, but his dick betrays him, twitching in your hold. His hand moves down his body, resting over yours, being moved up and down along with yours with each hasty stroke you deal to his cock.

With warning, a warm, white liquid spurts from his tip, an angry shade of red. His cum drips down your hand as well as his own, making a complete mess of them. He grunts and whimpers through the whole process, the bucking movement of his hips accelerating before slowing down to a stop.

You grin up at him mischievously and in return he just lets out a huff, his mouth hanging open and eyes continuing to droop low. His face looks exhausted, but his cock still looks like it has some kick left in it.

“You want me to do it again—“ he cuts you off, nodding furiously. “Y-yeah, again, please, we have the time,” he whimpers, sounding like a mix of excitement and defeatment.

“Adorkable,” you laugh, speaking in a sing-songy manner.

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[beautifulbrainrot]

So picture this, spencer gets so wasted at a party with the bau and you take him home and in his drunken state he pushes you onto the couch and starts making out with you and humps your leg until he either passes out or cuts and falls asleep, but he thought it was a dream so he was mortified when he woke up on top of you the next morning

that’s so hot omfg

i had so much fun writing this! you have a beautiful and very dirty brain i love it

spencer reid x gn!reader

cw 18+ spencer is drunk, you arent, or your at least a bit tipsy it’s not specified but you do drive, making out, leg hunping?? idfk, coming in pants (yum), kinda swaps povs? idk

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

“come on spence, let’s get you inside.” you said, hauling spencer out of your car. he tripped over his feet as he stepped onto the pavement, stumbling into you.

“you smell re- really good!” he giggled, dopey smile on his face. spencer rarely drank so it was no surprise that it only took a few drinks to have him absolutely wasted. what did suprise you was what a giggly and touchy drunk he was.

he pulled away from you and planted his hands on your hips, biting his lips as his eyes shamelessly ran over your body.

“you’re.. so pretty, like so pretty! i just wanna-“ he whined, biting his lip and swaying slightly on the spot.

you blushed slightly at his candour, smiling internally. you shook it off, he’s your coworker! he’s just being nice!

you wrapped your arms around his waist as you helped him walk up the steps to his apartment, unlocking the door with the key he had given you a few months prior in case of emergencies.

you both stumbled through the apartment door, clicking on a lamp for some light. his apartment was small and homely and filled with books. you led spencer over to the brown couch in the middle of the room, both of you flopping down on it.

he quickly snugged into you, a blush erupting on your face as he did. he looked up at you with his big doe eyes and you bit your lip. don’t kiss him. do not kiss him, you repeated to yourself as your eyes drifted down to his plump lips.

his eyes raked over your form as you both lay there, seemingly mesmerised by you. this time when his doe eyes flicked up to look at you they were filled with lust.

“you’re so beautiful...” he whispered, closing the space between you, pressing his lips against yours. you gasped but quickly returned the kiss, holding his face in your hands as the kiss turned passionate, your lips moulding together as you pulled each other as close as possible. you pulled away from him slightly when you started to feel him rutting his steadily growing erection against your leg softly as he chased your lips

“spence..?” you questioned softly, a deep blush spreading across your face as your coworker gently humped against your leg.

he whined your name as his eyes squeezed shut, his mind foggy, delving back in for another kiss which you quickly granted. as you kissed, you gently brushed your hand through his soft curls, tugging lightly to see his reaction. he moaned softly at the feeling, his hips speeding up their movements against you.

you couldn’t believe this was happening. and you never wanted it to stop.

you started to gently move your leg against him, a whine slipping out of his bitten lips at the extra friction. you were desperate to hear that sound agains, bouncing your leg slightly as he rubbed against you. more whimpers and whines fell out of his parted lips as you did this, his eyes sqeeezed shut as he surrendered to the pleasure. you drank in his desperate moans hungrily, drunk on him.

his hips began to speed up and you could tell his orgasm was approaching. you lifted his chin with your thumb causing him to open his eyes to look at you, his pupils blown in lust as he humped you faster, chasing his release. you pulled him in again for a passionate kiss as he came hard in his pants, his hips slowing down as you continued to kiss him more softly.

he fell asleep on top of you, exhausted from the drinking and your activities. you ran your hand through his tousled curls softly before drifting to sleep yourself, dreaming of him.

-

“mmm..” spencer moaned softly as he rutted against you.

you grasped his chin between your thumb and forefinger gently, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

his hips stuttered, warmth filling his pants as he came.

spencer’s eyes opened slowly, eyes blurry and head pounding. this is why you don’t drink spencer. he bit his lip softly at the dream he had had about you, how good you had made him feel. he knew he should be thinking of his coworker like this but he just couldn’t help it.

he blinked a couple of times to clear the blurryness from his vision, becoming aware of the fact he was on his couch. how did i get here? oh someone drove me.. who was it?

spencer’s eyes widened as he realised, turning over on the couch to see your sleeping face behind him. it wasn’t a dream. holy fuck it wasn’t a dream?!?

spencer gasped lightly as your eyes blinked open.

“hey spence,” you yawned, “why are you starting at me..” you questioned, eyebrow raised as you rubbed your tired eyes.

he blushed furiously as he looked at you, memories of the previous night filling his head.

“did we.. last night. did us- we- actually.. um.. do that?” he squeaked out, blush spreading across his face.

a blush spread across your face as you looked at him, all the memories flooding back to you. you bit your lip as you looked up at him, “i think so.. yeah..” you said, your cheeks burning.

“it was.. kind of nice..”

“yeah.. it was” you smiled, reaching up to cradle his face in your hand. you pulled him in, pressing your lips against him softly. he quickly deepened the kiss, clambering on top of you.

“round two?”

[mydearzero]

Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?

I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!

now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡

Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.

Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.7K words

"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle. 

"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face. 

"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact. 

"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply. 

"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off. 

Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home. 

You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home. 

"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.   

You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed. 

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together. 

"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver." 

You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer? 

Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset. 

You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing. 

You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him. 

The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips. 

You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap. 

His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out. 

You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on. 

You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move. 

You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own. 

"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy. 

"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile. 

"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch. 

Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close. 

He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes. 

"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat. 

He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation. 

"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened. 

"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over. 

"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch. 

"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length. 

You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure. 

His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself." 

Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation. 

You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it. 

You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't. 

"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch. 

You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation. 

"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly. 

"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged. 

You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced. 

You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue. 

You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably. 

You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often. 

"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet. 

His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch. 

The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears. 

You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest. 

"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later. 

"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails. 

He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval. 

"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie. 

"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place. 

You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass. 

You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?" 

Spencer shook his head aggressively. 

"Words, baby." 

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that. 

"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day. 

You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock. 

You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes. 

"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks. 

"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face. 

"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock. 

"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over. 

"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is. 

He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours. 

"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic. 

You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes. 

"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again. 

You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you. 

A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good. 

"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins. 

You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."

Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release. 

You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could." 

His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release. 

His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me." 

You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you. 

"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips. 

"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.

Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own. 

"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time. 

"Fuck, Spencer!" 

"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face. 

You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi." 

Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself." 

"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest. 

"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him. 

Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up. 

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. 

"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

[byersbootyshorts]

Not So Smart Now (S.R.)

Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.

Word Count: 2,882

EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language

cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart

This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.

You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!

“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.

“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.

“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.

“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”

Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.

The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”

You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.

You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.

The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.

You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.

“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.

“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”

You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.

“Actually there’s one mill-,”

“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”

You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.

“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.

Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.

“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.

Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.

“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.

It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.

You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.

It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.

“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.

You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.

“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.

“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”

Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.

“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.

“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.

“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”

“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”

You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious

“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”

“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.

“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”

Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.

“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.

“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.

You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.

“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”

You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.

“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.

“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.

“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.

“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.

Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”

You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”

You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.

You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.

“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.

“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.

“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.

“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.

You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.

And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.

“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”

“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.

“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.

Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.

“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.

“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.

You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.

“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.

“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.

“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.

“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”

“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.

“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.

You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”

“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.

Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.

“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”

You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Everybody is like "imagine how sore you'd be after prison Reid" and like yeah, I get that but consider also:

I can't stop thinking about being in a long term relationship with Reid when he goes to Prison and then when he gets out, the second he sees you again, he just needs his Mommy.

Being locked up for those months where (somehow) the most horrible, chaotic, and out of control days of his life, and the moment he is back in your arms, he feels himself slipping back into that far away, fuzzy headspace again because he needs this. He hasn't felt truly safe in months - not while sleeping, not while eating, not with his back turned to any of the people around him, and when he's in your arms, he feels truly safe.

He has always felt so safe with you in control of every aspect of his life, ruling over him, making sure that absolutely no harm comes to him, and ensuring that above all - he is gifted the most heightened pleasure.

So in spite of people still being around, his beloved friends, celebrating his release, he mumbles that word into your neck:

"Mommy."

And you know exactly what he needs.

You haul him aside, make sure to take him somewhere private, lock the door - and then you're on him.

You're kissing his gorgeous mouth, absorbing all those whines, telling him what a perfect boy he is - praising him so hard because you know he hasn't heard enough of it since he's been gone. And before you get your hands on his belt, you undo your bra underneath your shirt and shove the fabric of your top under your armpits, giving him access to his favorite part of you.

Baby Spence loves your breasts.

If he weren't in that fuzzy headspace right now, he would go on at large about how the simulation of breastfeeding is a healthy form of bonding and mimicry of childhood experiences is an easy way to establish safety and trust between partners - safety and trust which, if otherwise not gained, can lead to disruption and rifts within the relationship.

But at current, he had his mouthful, swallowing up your areola, echoing more needy whines around it - and he absolutely was not discussing anything as you undid the fly of his pants and got your hand around his cock.

You knew exactly what your baby needed. And you were going to give it to him.

[stairain]

Jealous Girl.

Requested by @saturnstringz

Catching Spencer talking to another woman wasn’t exactly ideal, but thankfully you know just how to handle him. 

Warnings: Sub Spencer, ropes, orgasm denial, overstimulation, vibrator, degradation, begging, titles (Ma’am)

WC: 2.4K

“So who is she?” 

Your voice rings loud in his ears, bouncing off the walls of the silent cold room. Shaking his head, Spencer strains against the thick rope that has him tied to the hard metal chair you’ve got him bound to. 

The cold material is unforgiving against his sweating skin, and he has to swallow in order to not choke on his words the moment he opens his mouth. 

“N-No one.. She’s no one, please. Please let me cum.”

One of your hands is lazily pumping his poor neglected cock. You had been edging him for over an hour at this point. The tip was a burning hot red, spilling precum with each pass your palm granted him. He twitched in his ropes, trying to push his hips forward just the littlest bit so he could actually feel your touch, instead of it just barely grazing where he needed it most. 

If there were some things you would expect from Spencer, it would be to never be caught dead without his ring on, or to never let Google explain anything better than he could. But catching him being friendly with another woman at the mall while you were shopping for a new dress was not on that list. 

You had kept it together just fine until you arrived home. The car ride back was silent, with a few desperate attempts from him to break the tension, in which you ignored him entirely. He fidgeted in the passenger seat as his heart pounded in his chest, knowing exactly what awaited him when the two of you pulled into the driveway. 

So when you dragged him into the house and aggressively sat him down on a chair with threatening eyes that dared him to move, it wasn’t much of a surprise. 

So here you were, sitting in front of the poor man, taking your sweet time bringing him to his impending orgasm just to rip it away from him the moment it became just enough. Tears brimmed his eyes and his mouth was never closed for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“What’d you guys talk about, hm? Seemed like you were having quite some fun.” 

Your tone was dangerous, filled with a toxin that shook him to his core. His mouth went dry and you relished in the way his cock jumped in your gentle hold. 

“She was flirting with you, wasn’t she?”

You weren’t even giving him the chance to speak, but he knew better than that anyway. Your grip around him tightens and quickly strokes over the sensitive head, making him jolt in surprise. His lips part in a silent moan as you torture him further. 

“I could tell.. You get that blush on your face, the same one that’s always there whenever anyone flirts with you. The one that tells me how much you enjoy it, tells me how much of a whore you are.” 

Spencer shudders at your words, and his eyes cross as he frantically shakes his head. His disheveled hair fans in front of his face, covering his blissed out expression of pain and pleasure. 

“I-I’m.. I’m not.” 

He tries to argue, in which you just deal a painfully hard squeeze to the tip of his cock. His entire body shakes, and if it weren’t for the ropes that held him flush against the chair, he would’ve doubled over, body folding in half in a desperate attempt to get you off of him.  

“Now we’re lying, are we? As if talking to that woman wasn’t enough for you.” 

With a disapproving shake of your head, you begin to stroke him again. Your pace returns to the same rushed rhythm you had adopted this entire time. Spencer writhed in your hold and couldn’t seem to catch his breath as pathetic whimpers and moans spill from his mouth and into the warm air that surrounds him. 

You were no doubt rubbing the skin of his shaft raw, the last droplets of spit that you had so generously drooled down onto his cock now long gone. 

“Please.. Please ma’am, I need to cum, need to..”

He whines miserably, feeling the deep pit in his stomach fill with that same irresistible arousal he always got when he was about to burst. His balls were heavy against the seat, full up and just begging for a release. The lewd shlicking of your hand smearing his precum all over his dick only distracted him further. 

Tilting your head to the side and biting your lip in contemplation, your hand speeds up.

“But, I don’t think you deserve it, baby.”

Spencer’s eyes practically pop out of his head at your cruel admittance. And despite telling he couldn’t cum, the quick strokes of your palm alluded otherwise. He’s sputtering, twitching in his binds and trying to pull his cock away from you.

“P-Please, please please.. I need it so bad, just let me cum. You have to, you need to.”

Hot tears stream from his eyes and down his reddened cheeks, dripping across his jaw as he tries his absolute hardest to hold back for you. His eyes roll back into their sockets and squeeze shut as you feel him start to shallowly thrust into your tight fist.

Your hand works him past the point of return, and he can’t help but fuck up into your grip. Sliding against your rough palm, using every gush of precum as an aid to bring him to completion. 

“Ma’am.. M—Please I c- I can’t.” 

On one hand, he wanted to be good for you and not explode in your fist, no doubt making you even angrier at him. But on the better hand, yours was working him so well that he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. 

Seeming to ignore his words, not even acknowledging them, you just continue your efforts to make him fall apart. You have an uninterested look on your face, like you’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

Spencer throws his head back against the top of the chair and grits his teeth, inhaling sharply as an absolutely guttural and broken moan rips through his throat.

A torrent of thick, sticky cum shoots up through your fist, spilling over the sides of your fingers and down to the base of his shaft. He’s being absolutely wrecked by the not so unexpected orgasm. Body spasming and eyes watering. 

Every expanse of his skin is covered with his fluids. Down his cheeks pours a flood of regretful tears, salty sweat dripping down his chest and temples, and hips positively soaked with his release. 

He shakes his head and tries to apologize, but all that comes out are desperate sobs of “I’m sorry” or “Didn���t meant to.” 

But the way your hand continues to move serves as enough of a rude awakening, and he chokes back another cry as he looks down at you with his eyebrows skewed into an expression of confusion. 

“W-What are.. What are you doing?”

His broken voice calls out to you, begging you to pay some sort of attention to his wrecked form. All he gets is a quiet, dismissive hum as you toy with his mess. 

Your fist drags up and down his soaked cock as if it were your job, smearing his cum all over your fingers and his still rock hard cock. 

With another desperate plea, Spencer’s thighs shake and he tries to jerk his hips away from your hold, but to no avail. 

“P-Please.. Please stop. I ca—I can’t.”

The wind has been knocked out of his lung, all of the air traveling right up to that little brain of his. As obscure facts about ancient civilizations and his newest solution to a decade old murder all dissolve into a dizzy flurry of you. 

The way you’re looking up at him through those lashes of yours, piercing eyes boring a hole right into the center of his forehead. The way one hand splays across the expanse of his pelvis and the other works its way up and down his poor abused cock, it’s all too much. 

With the shake of your head, you only force him to fuck your fist even faster and harder now. The gross noise of his cum slapping against the base of his shaft and the squishing of your fingers squeezing around him brutally are all he can possibly think about. 

That and begging you to just let up already. He’s learned his lesson, hasn’t he?

Not even close. 

“I s-swear. I-I’ll be good now, I promise. Please just—just stop.”

Spencer’s voice breaks an astonishing amount of times throughout his words, and you don’t hold back the evil laugh that you let out. He seems to crumble in on himself upon hearing it.

“What kind of punishment is letting you cum, Spence? The kind you want from her?”

He winced at the mention of anyone else during a time like this. He was only focused on you, and just hoping you’d show him some semblance of remorse. 

The overstimulation was very quickly taking over his entire self. He tried so hard to meet your dark gaze as you looked up and he looked down, but with the way his eyes kept crossing and fluttering back into their lids, he just couldn’t. 

You grab him at the head and squeeze, making a rather large fish of precum spill over the top of your fist. Spencer writhes under your hold and curses under his breath. 

The all too familiar pit was beginning to take its toll on him again, and if his heart that was beating 100 miles a minute didn’t let you know he couldn’t handle another orgasm so soon, nothing would. 

“Please, I-I can’t take it.” 

You click your tongue a few times and move your other hand so now both of them are pumping relentlessly up and down his cock. A wanton moan slips its way through his lips, echoing off the walls that’d sob if they were alive. 

“Oh but baby, you were just begging for more. What happened?”

If he could, he’d roll his eyes at the plastic tone in your voice. The faux innocence and concern laced in it was enough to make him scoff at you as you cruelly toyed with him. 

But instead, his brown locks jerk as he frantically shakes his head, whimpering in defeat. When he looks down to you and you meet his gaze, more tears well up in his big round eyes. In which you just click your tongue once more and let your hand travel to his tip. 

“Oh you’re fine, stop that.”

His hands clench and pull at the ropes, maybe in a last feeble endeavor to free himself, or in a pathetic attempt to hold himself back. Either way, neither work the second you flatten your hand and press the palm of it up against the leaking head. 

Moving one hand up and down the shaft, the other circles the surface of the palm over the sensitive hole. His eyes stutter as they roll back into his skull, and his mouth quivers as it has no other choice but to fall open and let his throat do the work. 

Bordering a scream, the moan that leaves his lips has you grinning like a madman. His thighs shake underneath you and he sputters out something resembling a warning. 

“D-Don’t. Don’t. Oh fuck, oh fuck.. I-I’m..”

Spencer’s head dips down so low his chin almost kisses the sweat-slicked skin of his sternum, and he squeezes his eyes shut so hard that thick tears drop down on his stomach. His hips stutter and his cock twitches as he can’t possibly resist the urge to just give into you finally. 

With one last sob, his lower body lifts from the chair and he’s gushing everywhere. The first spurt hits your palm directly, spilling over the sides of his shaft as you’re still circling your hand over him. The second shoots into the air the moment you remove said hand from him. And the third bursts across his entire body, traveling all the way up to where it catches against his sharp jawline. 

Spencer grits his teeth and pants through the tight corners, succumbing to the intense pleasure that’s proven itself more than enough. He’s hiccuping and shaking as his sobs wrack through his ruined frame. 

His hair sticks to his forehead and he whines as he feels his release pooling around the dips in his waist, and the space where his thighs are parted. 

Thankfully this time, you’ve removed your hands from his person as you watch him tremble in front of you. He’s made a mess of himself and on himself, but you’re not quite satisfied. 

You lean forward a bit and rest your cheek on his knee, looking up at him with an innocent expression, as if you didn’t just break him. 

“How long did you talk to that woman, Spence? I know you know.”

The man shudders and shakes his head a little before answering, almost immediately regretting even answering you the second he sees your face contort into that same evil smile. 

“Five minutes.” 

You sigh and the smile never leaves your face as you stand up and almost too joyfully walk over to your dresser. 

Spencer’s pulse rings in his ear, the blood finally rushing back through his body as he begins to feel his cock soften. His eyes flutter close as he allows himself to relax after two orgasms in a row, but the moment he opens his eyes to find you standing over him with a bright purple vibrator in your hands, his heart drops. 

“I-What?”

He nervously laughs, eyes darting around as if begging someone to save him, even though you both knew it was just the two of you. 

“Five minutes you said?”

Your finger flicks against a single button, and the buzzing of the toy taunts him as he watches it shake in your hand. 

“Then that means three more orgasms, and you’re free to go.” 

Spencer’s breath staggers and he shakes his head, twisting his wrists and knees in one last pathetic attempt to make a run for it. 

“W-Wait, please. You can't be serious.” 

His voice breaks and you can already see the fresh tears beginning to bloom in his eyes. With a shrug, you fall back down to your knees in front of him. 

You press the buzzing toy right against the sensitive underside of his already hardening cock, rolling your eyes when he cries out and whines immediately. 

“Shut it, Spence. You had your fun, now it’s my turn.” 

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Lessons For A Genius - Lesson One

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

Lesson One: Slick Silicone

(aka the one with the pocket pussy)

Summary:

What could a certified genius possibly have to learn from someone like you? Turns out - a hell of a lot. 

And the real ‘teaching’ started when your graphic explanations of slang toward Spencer for the sheer shock value of it turned into something a lot more… hands on. 

Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

Word Count: 17,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: A lot of general stuff pertaining to an average Criminal Minds episode - mentions of death, mentions of murder/killing, mentions of possible trauma from being in the BAU, somewhat graphic descriptions of a dismembered corpse; this is not a casefic but there is a small section where Reid, Morgan, and the reader are at a crime scene and details of a case are mentioned (not a case in the canon, one that I made up); the reader sticks her hand inside of a corpse to get something out of it for the purpose of discovering evidence; making inappropriate jokes about dead bodies - the reader character uses dark humour to cope with the trauma of the BAU job; Spencer doesn't understand sexual slang and the reader has to explain it to him (warning for slightly awkward moments because of this?); the reader calls Spencer 'honey' (could be considered condescending); use of Y/N and L/N (meaning Your Last Name); Reid struggling with his sexuality/Reid has some internal biphobia; mentions of anal sex/anal stimulation but it does not take place during the fic; passing mentions of Reid being bullied in school; mentions of past Spencer x Lila Archer (in this fic, she blew him while he was working that case but they didn't keep contact when he left LA); mentions of the reader going to a sex shop; mentions of the reader dressing feminine/wearing lingerie; mention of Spencer being taller than the reader - but I think he would be taller than most people.

This is primarily a smut fic; there is sub/dom dynamics - Reid is submissive and much more inexperienced (he is 'learning' about sex from the reader character, but he is not completely a virgin, he has had one singular sexual experience before); the reader is dominant and much more experienced sexually; the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns; mentions of Reid being 'innocent' (it's more so that sex is an under-researched area of his life and he is too shy to explore it by himself); undertones of corruption kink; use of a sex toy - the reader gifts Spencer a fleshlight/pocket pussy and they use it together; hand kink - the reader admires Spencer's hands; undertones of corruption kink - the reader is enjoying 'corrupting' Spencer and showing him these things for the first time; BDSM/kink negotiations, possibly under-negotiated kink; the reader teaches Spencer BDSM terms.

Everything in this fic is fully consensual and safe for the characters; Spencer calls the reader 'Miss'; mentions of Spencer cumming inside the reader (does not actually happen during the fic); passing mentions of Spencer being insecure (about his sexual skills and his looks); Spencer is very obedient; the reader calls Spencer: 'good boy', 'baby', 'pretty boy', 'dumb baby'; most of this fic is Spencer being fucked with a fleshlight while it's controlled by the reader; heavy praise kink (from the reader toward Spencer); light bondage - Spencer's hands are bound behind his back; edging - orgasm delay/orgasm denial (from the reader toward Spencer); the reader makes Spencer ask permission to cum; some size kink - big dick Spencer is too big to fully fit inside of a fleshlight; Spencer does a lot of begging in this; slight crying kink - the reader thinks Spencer looks pretty when he cries from being overwhelmed/edged a lot; degradation kink, dumbification kink, reader is condescending towards Spencer; some overstimulation toward the end; slight cum kink - Spencer cums all over himself and the reader enjoys it. I believe that's it. There is descriptions of aftercare!

A/N: fair warning - a lot of this fic is build up/sexual tension (my speciality). and there is a long section before the smut where the reader is teaching Spencer BDSM terms and teaching him how to pick a safeword, but I think it's interesting and I enjoyed writing it. and it's worth the pay-off imo. also remember, if you want me to continue this series, please give me some feedback on it! I would love to hear what you thought of this fic before I start writing another one! I highly resisted the urge to put Mommy kink in this, but I feel like it would be unrealistic for a shy Spencer to be comfortable calling his partner Mommy during a first time (he would have a Mommy kink but he would be way too uptight/uncomfortable to admit it).

...

Being an FBI Profiler meant there were some rather… strange parts to your day. 

Things that were once in a lifetime tragedies for other people that had become intensely casual routines for you. Things like - looking at gruesome crime scene photos, seeing a dead body in person, facing down a killer. 

You liked to thank your nihilism and dark sense of humor for keeping you sane, working a job that would have driven others insane in such a short amount of time. You also liked to distance yourself from the darkness of it, and preferred to think of the people you helped, rather than the people you couldn’t. 

Especially during moments like this, when you were exiting the car at yet another crime scene. It was a dump sight for the body of another young woman, adding to the trail of victims this newest killer was challenging the BAU with. 

“Just like all the others… the limbs and jaw are missing. Eyes gouged out. This guy has one hell of a compulsion.” Morgan commented, looking down at the body… or rather, the torso, with intense disdain. 

“I would say it’s less of a compulsion, and more of a fractured sense of reality.” Reid commented. “It’s likely that the UnSub sees these corpses as pieces of art. It’s why he was frustrated when the first four weren’t found soon enough, that they weren’t discovered when they were… ‘fresh’, so to speak. That’s why he started leaving the clues for law enforcement. He wants his ‘art’ to be seen in a timely manner.” 

“Couldn’t the guy just take up painting or something?” You replied, looking at the body, still slightly shocked by how brutal the whole thing was. 

“Looks like we got another one.” Morgan pointed out, crouching down beside the body, motioning toward a large gash between the victim’s ribs. “Another clue, that is.” 

For the last three victims, the UnSub had cut a hole into their torso and left some kind of object inside. Something small that hinted at where the next victim would be found. 

Morgan looked over his shoulder at you, as though waiting for you to make a move. When you turned to Reid, he was looking over the rim of his coffee cup at you with very expectant eyes, the thick lenses of his glasses making his stare all the more imposing. 

You quickly realized that both of the men wanted you to stick your hand inside the corpse and pull out whatever was inside. 

“What?” You chuckled. “You want me to do it? Is it just cause you think I’m the gross one?” 

Your reputation for having a strong stomach preceded you. 

You were shy or squeamish about anything, socially or functionally, and the team often took advantage of this. They would throw you into an interrogation with a suspect who made crude comments and you would end up grossing the man out with even more graphic words. They would have you sifting through a suspect’s trash looking for receipts or pieces of evidence and sometimes you would laugh at the things you found, rather than gagging at the smell. 

It was rare that anyone on the team saw you flinch. 

“The body’s been sittin’ out here in the sun for three hours.” Morgan said, glancing from the corpse up to the bright sky overhead. “I’m not doin’ it.”

You chanced another look at Reid. The small smirk he wore told you that he wouldn’t have to give some lame excuse about how he was squeamish and had just eaten in order for you to truly give in. 

“Ugh, fine.” You said. 

You naturally met Reid’s hand when he came out of his pocket with a blue latex glove for you to wear. You put it on, switching places with Morgan so you could kneel down beside the body. You put your ungloved hand on the ground to support yourself, and then inserted your fingers into the cavity - the hole between the ribs that the UnSub had made. 

Luckily, you didn’t have to reach too far inside before you felt something. Though, because of the slight decomposition of the body and the bloat from the sun beating down, you did have some trouble getting a good grip on the item to pull it out. 

Naturally, your discomfort with the situation caused your dark sense of humor to act up. You needed the comfort and you barely thought about the odd joke before it left your lips. 

“God, it’s like a fucking fleshlight in here,” You groaned, disgusted laced through your voice as you finally hooked your fingers around the object and managed to pull it out of the wound. 

Morgan chuckled at the joke and held out an evidence bag for you (which he had gotten from one of the uniformed officers on the scene). Before any of you could truly analyze the item that you had just pulled out of the body cavity, a voice trampled over your thoughts as you dropped the item into the plastic bag. 

“Don’t you mean flashlight?” Reid piped up, so eager to correct you, as always. “Also, how is that comparable?” 

You looked up at Reid with awe. 

For a moment, you wondered if he was fucking with you. 

But the look of genuine confusion plastered across his features - something so rare for the certified genius. That look made you realize that he genuinely didn’t know what a fleshlight was. He had no idea what you were talking about. 

Your insides tingled with glee at this realization. 

Morgan sighed when he saw the look that you and Reid exchanged. You, wearing filthy, smug dawning and Reid painted entirely with cluelessness. He hated where the exchange was going, knowing how shameless you always were in conversation. He quickly tried to distract from the interaction. 

“So, this looks like a horseshoe-” Morgan said, motionting to the object in the evidence bag. 

“No, I meant fleshlight.” You said, quickly trampling over Morgan’s words. “F-L-E-S-H-L-I-G-H-T. Fleshlight. Do you not know what that means?” 

This caused Morgan to sigh sharply and shake his head. 

You took off the glove with a snap and tossed it away, happy to be rid of the smell. 

You stood back to your full height, entirely intrigued by Reid’s continued confusion. 

“It could represent luck. Maybe a casino?” Morgan tried in vain to distract the two of you from the conversation once again. 

Maybe he was trying to preserve Reid’s naive innocence, something you were determined to dismantle piece by piece because it gave you intense joy to see the shock cross his features whenever you explained outrageous concepts to him. The time you had explained to him what a ‘blumpkin’ was, you hadn’t stopped laughing for hours when he could hardly believe you. 

“The nearest casino is 45.6 miles away, it’s far outside the UnSub’s geographical comfort zone.” Reid said, quickly dismissing Morgan’s thread of conversation before he turned back to you. “And no, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is it a coroner’s term?” 

You let out a harsh snort at this. You had gotten a degree in mortuary science before you became a Profiler (likely something to thank for your strong stomach). But it was your other area of ‘study’ that made you an expert in this. 

“No, honey, it’s not.” You quickly answered. 

There was a slight flash through his features when you called him ‘honey’. You weren’t sure if it was shock or displeasure, but either way he quickly straightened his face and went back to intrigue. He stared at you with his full attention, ready for you to explain it to him. He was ready to learn and catalog the information in that big brain of his.

It was something you found entirely endearing. 

“L/N, please, don’t-” Morgan begged you not to explain it any further, once again wanting to keep Reid in the dark. 

Mostly, he wanted to save himself from the embarrassment of witnessing the interaction between the two of you. 

“What?” You chuckled sharply, turning to Morgan. “There are some things the genius still needs to learn, apparently.” 

Reid rolled his eyes at this. He didn’t want to admit that it was true. 

“The other night I had to explain to him what the distinct difference between a Butt Dial and a Booty Call is,” You continued, giving an example to prove your point. “Because he walked into the bullpen and loudly announced to JJ and Elle that he was sorry that he booty called me at 3am and woke me up.” 

Morgan choked on his laughter when you explained this. 

“Dude, seriously?” He posed, raising a brow at Reid. 

“I fell asleep with my phone in my back pocket when I was reading Voltaire.” Reid explained, a heavy blush falling over his cheeks. “I thought - I thought -” 

“Okay, playboy, I’m gonna go call Hotch about this,” Morgan announced, motioning toward the evidence bag. “And I’m gonna pretend not to hear anything that’s happening over here.” 

Morgan walked off to the car, and Reid turned to you with a defeated look cast over his features. 

“I do appreciate when you explain these kinds of things to me.” He told you softly. “It… it saves me from future embarrassment.” 

As much as you enjoyed the shock factor of watching Spencer’s innocence melt away when you explained such crude things so abruptly - that was also part of your motivation. You knew that as much as he was a genius - had stunning intellect on paper, could recite statistics by heart - he didn’t have the kind of social skills or social knowledge that you did. 

“Do you really wanna know what I was talking about before?” You posed, giving him one last chance to preserve that innocence. 

He nodded, ever thirsty to chase an unanswered question. 

You held back a giggle. 

“A fleshlight is also called a pocket pussy.” You told him, launching into a quick, efficient explanation for his confusion so that he could have his question answered. 

“What?” He gaped, having the most beautifully dumb look on his face as the words left his lips. 

“It’s a sex toy.” You told him. 

His face scrunched even further into bewilderment, and you knew that now he was simply jumping through mental hoops, wondering what kind of sex toy a ‘pocket pussy’ could be. So you decided to make your explanation a bit more detailed. 

“It’s a…” You thought for a moment about how to explain it to someone who had never seen one before. “A kind of tube? Usually in the shape of a large flashlight, and on the inside there’s a silicone vagina, or sometimes a silicone anus, and it’s meant to simulate intercourse the same way that a dildo can simulate intercourse by going into a vagina. Or an anus, of course. You do know what a dildo is, right?” 

Reid quickly nodded his head - that bright flush even fresher on his cheeks as a deep thoughtfulness came over his features. 

“Yeah. Y-yeah. I got it.” He quickly stuttered out, assuring you that he now fully understood. 

“Cool.” You said, walking by him and thumping him on the shoulder for reassurance that the conversation was over. 

“Wait, is that the hand that you - inside? You haven’t washed your hands yet!” 

“I wore a glove, Reid!” 

… 

Turns out the horseshoe had a unique stamping on it from a closed down metalworks business. Four thousand square feet of abandoned building, perfect for the UnSub to make his ‘art’ inside. He had intended for the clue to lead the team to a barn where he had staged the next corpse, but you broke into the building and caught him in the act of drugging another woman before she was killed. 

The state of the building was horrifying - the limbs of the other victims strewn about, a lot of them put on display like trophies. 

Overall, you would call it a good day. There was a life saved. 

On the way back home, Spencer could barely make eye contact with you while on the jet. His eyes constantly flickered away from you with purpose whenever you looked near him. The two of you played Gin Rummy and you had to remind Reid to take his turn several times. There was even one point where he won a hand and you had to tell him so - he claimed that he had ‘forgotten the rules’. As if. 

You couldn’t figure out why he was acting so strangely. You wanted to chalk it up to the harshness of the case, the graphic nature of things - but you both had seen much worse. The ‘fleshlight’ conversation was so minimal on your radar, such a shameless moment for you. It was something you considered so entirely regular as an interaction on the rollercoaster of all things bizarre that was Spencer Reid. You were barely even thinking about it. 

You had no clue that it was racing through his mind at top speed as he remembered your words from earlier that day. 

… 

Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

He wasn’t sure why it had never occurred to him before. Sure, there were plenty of things he didn’t know, like you said. Plenty of things he was curious about, but far too shy to look up. Plenty of things he didn’t want to get caught looking up out of fear of embarrassment. 

He knew some things about sex toys. He knew far more about the history of sex toys than he did about modern sex toys. He could tell you that Cleopatra had owned one of the first rudimentary vibrators, made from the shell of a hollowed out gourd filled with bees. But if he walked into a sex shop today, he probably wouldn’t know what half the stuff was or what it was used for. 

When he thought about what you had told him, it only made sense. 

Of course there would be some kind of solution, some kind of ‘opposite’ to a silicone penis used to simulate sex inside a vagina. 

(“Or an anus, of course.”) 

Those words flying out of your mouth so casually had sent Reid’s imagination flying into an array of interesting directions. Of course he knew that plenty of men liked to partake in anal stimulation for pleasure. There were no particular statistics about this that came to mind, because it was never something he had directly read a study about. 

It was something Reid had always been curious about, because he did know that prostate stimulation was often considered to be the height of pleasure for men. 

(Spencer’s attraction to men was a can of worms that he would leave untouched and attend to another day. The innate warmth that he felt when he looked at Morgan was something he always felt the need to suppress. Even though it was quite literally impossible for him, he was still trying to forget the involuntary reaction he had when he looked at a gay porn magazine that his classmates had left in his locker as a joke when he was thirteen.) 

For the most part, his mind was hyper-fixating on your explanation of that object he had never even heard of before. The antithesis of a dildo, the supposed inversion of the male genitalia in a more portable form. 

A pocket pussy. 

You talked about it so casually, explained it so perfectly. You spoke about it in such a way that it left Reid’s mind whirring, wondering what such an object could specifically look like. Of course, he knew what a vagina looked like. In theory. 

Yes, he was a virgin. 

He actually wondered if he fit that definition exactly. He knew that most people considered virginity to be a milestone passed once they had participated in full blown intercourse for the first time. But he wondered if what he had done would ‘count’ as losing his virginity. It was something he would have asked you, would have wanted your social colloquial opinion on - if he wasn’t so embarrassed about being a virgin in the first place. (Or maybe being a virgin, he still wasn’t too sure.) 

He had been touched by a woman before, but only once. 

After he and Lila Archer had climbed out of the pool, before the team had arrived, she had kissed him on the mouth again and continued to thank him for his ‘bravery’ and ongoing protection in a very interesting way. And before he could truly process it or stop her (due to the intense unprofessionalism) - his pants were down and her mouth was on him. Because of his inexperience, it had lasted a whopping three minutes. (According to Spencer’s impeccable memory and the fact that he had been glancing between the top of her head and a clock on the wall, worried they would get caught, he knew for a fact that it had been three minutes and fourteen seconds to be exact.) 

Which, at the time, was lucky. Because as she licked off her lips and looked up at him through her lashes, Morgan called out his name through the house, finally looking for them. He had rushed to straighten his clothes and look normal - but because Morgan caught them both looking incredibly guilty, he had hounded Reid for days about the ‘details’. Reid gave him none. 

But that had been his only experience with a woman sexually. His only experience with anybody, for that matter. So any of his knowledge about vaginas was based entirely on pictures; scientific diagrams, and renaissance art. He was never gutsy enough to buy porn for himself. 

He tried to imagine what a silicone vagina would look like - how one would fit molded into a plastic tube. He tried to imagine how it would feel to stick his penis into one. 

Of course, he had plenty of experience with masturbation. 

His instincts had taken over at the right age for that. Even though his brain was always advanced well beyond his years, puberty kicked in just the same. He had been a hormonal teenager just like everyone else. (Of course, he was the only one going to CalTech getting a PhD in chemistry, but he was right on track in terms of his physical development.) 

And naturally, his imagination often ran away with him whenever he had the time alone to masturbate now that he was an adult. 

One of the things he thought about most often when he masturbated was you. 

The fact that you were so self-assured, so confident, the fact that nothing could shake you. It always made Spencer imagine you pinning him down, taking control of him, kissing him hard. He had orgasmed in his hand a great many nights, imagining you on top of him - imagining what you might feel like around him, on top of him, riding him. 

He found it intensely difficult to pay attention to Gin Rummy when all of these thoughts were running through his mind. 

… 

You barely remembered the fleshlight conversation at all. Barely remembered it, that is, until you were on your way to work the next morning. 

There was a small fender bender between two cars on your normal route and the traffic build-up around it caused you to deviate. Because of that, you just happened to drive by your favorite sex shop. The sign caught your eye, and you figured: you were already late. There was a great coffee place across the street. You could grab yourself a latte if you parked. 

You were surprised that a sex shop would be open so early in the morning, but you were glad that you made the stop. Usually, you would have taken your time to browse. You liked to see what was new, especially in terms of costumes and lingerie. 

You didn’t have a long term partner to impress, but sometimes you did like to strut around the house in lingerie (in your fleeting free time away from the BAU) just to make yourself feel good. That, and it was always fun to see the look on a date’s face when you gave the sensual promise of ‘slipping into something more comfortable’ and then came back in a latex nurse’s outfit and six inch red heels. 

Unfortunately, today you were low on time and very set on what you wanted. 

You went straight to the wall of toys and zoned in on the selection of fleshlights. You picked out the most ‘basic’ one you could find. You didn’t want to assume Spencer’s preferences, but you picked one that resembled a pussy rather than an ass. 

It was on the expensive side, but you knew the look on Spencer’s face when you gave it to him would more than pay it off in your mind. That and imagining him using it, knowing that it would be far too tempting of a gift. He would never be brave enough to buy something like this for himself and once it was in his hands when he was alone, he would be far too curious not to use it - yeah, it was definitely worth it. 

You walked past a rack of lube on your way to the cash register and realized that it would be rude to give this kind of gift without a bottle of lube in accompaniment. So you bought a bottle of your favorite water based lubricant. An unscented one, knowing that Spencer was a no-frills kind of guy, even though you usually bought a strawberry scented one for yourself. 

You got the items put in a discreet, labelless black bag and then got yourself a latte. And you couldn’t help but to grab an almond croissant for Spencer because when you spotted it in the pantry case, you did think of him. 

Of course, when you walked into the office (the black bag safely in the backseat of your car) Hotch just happened to be walking by with a handful of files on the way to his office. 

“You’re late.” He commented, not looking up from the paper he was reading. 

“Traffic was hell.” You fired back. 

“Yeah, and I’m sure that latte just magically transported into your hand.” He said, his tone blank and unreadable as usual. “I want all your reports about the case on my desk by tonight.” 

Usually, there was a grace period of two or three days to get the reports about a case done. But clearly, Hotch didn’t like your tardiness. You considered it worth it. 

“Yes sir.” You mumbled under your breath. 

He didn’t say anything else after that, simply retreated off to his office. 

You figured he couldn’t be that mad. He knew the job could be an emotional strain, and it was okay to deviate from such a hard routine every now and then. Especially because now you were going to be spending the next five hours writing out all the gory details of how you had pulled a horseshoe out of a woman’s dead torso in order to catch a killer. 

You walked over to your desk, which was right in front of Reid’s, and placed down the paper bag with the croissant on top of one of his files. This easily distracted him from whatever he had been writing - most likely one of his reports about the case. 

“Almond croissant,” You said, placing down your coffee cup and placing your purse underneath your desk. “Your favorite, right?” 

“It is.” He grinned at you. “Thank you.” 

It was that sweet little smile, those big kind eyes staring up at you through the lenses of his glasses like you hung the stars in the sky - it was that bit of sweetness that got you through writing your reports. So yeah, it probably wasn’t just dark humor and nihilism that helped you keep your sanity. It had a lot to do with the pretty boy you got to sit across from every single day. 

You worked on your reports. And yeah, you took too many coffee breaks, including a long lunch break with Elle, Penelope, and JJ where they insisted on discussing your ‘crush’ on Spencer. 

You denied it. 

Elle profiled your lie (which you insisted was not a lie) and JJ laughed about it. Penelope started humming wedding music under her breath and you threatened to spit in her salad. 

By the time you actually got the reports done, it was late. Everyone else had gone home - except for Spencer, who was still sitting at his desk across from you with his lamp on and an air of quiet concentration. When you got finished with the last report, you slammed the file closed and let out a sigh, leaning back in your chair and running your hands harshly over your face. 

“Finally done?” Spencer’s delicate voice inquired, peeking up over the median between the desks to look at you. 

“Yes, finally.” You grinned back at him. “You done too?” 

You couldn’t help but to ask. Spencer was always incredibly quick with his reports, simply by the nature of the speed at which he could read and compose writing. You wondered what exactly he had been doing at his desk for the past few hours. Perhaps he had been looking through old case files, possibly unsolved ones, thinking up new leads while there was no pressure looming over his brilliant mind. 

“I finished up at three o’clock.” He said. 

You glanced at your watch - it was getting close to nine. That made you entirely curious about what he had been doing, sitting at his desk for that many hours. What had he felt the need to stay so late for? 

“So what has been keeping you busy this late into the night, Doctor?” You asked. 

“I was reading.” He told you honestly, motioning toward a thick novel that he had in his hands. 

“How many books do you have over there?” You chuckled. 

Again, you knew that because of the intense speed he was capable of reading at, it would take a lot of books to keep him busy. 

“Just one.” He answered, easily catching your eye and maintaining eye contact. 

Both of you knew what this meant. 

For a while, he had been rereading through old case files. But, not wanting to haunt himself with those gory details, he had chosen instead to simply sit at his desk and reread the same book over and over again because he had wanted to keep you company. 

What you didn’t know was that his mind had still been heavily plagued by thoughts of your sex toy discussion from the other day, so he wasn’t exactly reading at lightning speed as per usual. Instead - letting his imagination wander, thinking about where he would get a silicone vagina if he wanted to buy one and if a toy would feel as good as yours. What yours would feel like around his penis if he ever got the minuscule chance to actually experience it. 

“The Hollow Men by T. S. Eliot - but um, I was waiting for you, actually.” Spencer announced, making his intentions entirely clear, just in case you hadn’t already figured it out. “I was hoping maybe we could get dinner together? We haven’t - we haven’t hung out in a while.” 

He seemed nervous asking you this, even though you were always enthusiastic in welcoming his invitations to spend time together outside of work. 

Last month, he had brought you to a conservatory housing and actively breeding endangered species of butterflies in order to save the populations from extinction. It was a building full of plant life, an indoor jungle filled with the beautiful insects that took your breath away. Listening to him ramble on about the different species and their latin names, the patterns on their wings and their purpose of camouflage - it had been one of the most pleasant, most romantic non-dates of your life. 

You didn’t understand why others on the team acted like his presence, especially his ramblings, could be a bother. 

“Sounds good.” You told him with a smile. 

He smiled back at you fondly. 

“I have to drop these on Hotch’s desk and then we can go.” You explained as you stood up and began gathering your files. “But uh, I don’t really feel like going out? I’m way more in the mood for take-out and a comfy couch.” 

“There’s a good Chinese place a few minutes away from my apartment.” He told you. “If you consider my couch comfortable?” 

You resisted the urge to tell him that you loved his apartment because the smell of books penetrated every inch of it; the scent of yellowing, worn paper living there like the comfort of a library. But you held that back - choosing instead to say something else. 

“The comfiest,” You grinned at him as you walked by with the armful of files. 

… 

You weren’t entirely sure when you were going to give the ‘gifts’ to Spencer. 

A large part of you thought that it would be best to have an out, in case he got embarrassed, or hated it. Most likely, you would wait until after dinner and hand him the bag on your way out without telling him what it was. Which was why you shoved the black plastic bag holding the lube and the sex toy into your oversized purse while Spencer was distracted with carrying the takeout bag toward his apartment. 

One thing that had not surprised you about Spencer when you found it out: he didn’t have basic cable. Part of you was surprised that someone who was so pro-book and anti-technology even had a TV at all. But apparently he had some favorites that he couldn’t stand to miss out on, like Doctor Who and Star Wars. So he had a DVD player hooked up to a very small TV that was banished off to a corner of his living room. A device that was dwarfed by bookcases, which did make a lot of sense. 

He said that he spent so much time reading and away at work, traveling for cases that it just didn’t make sense to pay for cable. He said that he could get his mental enrichment from reading, and his nerdy pleasure from rewatching his old favorites, and apparently he got the news from listening to the radio. The radio. Sometimes you wondered if he was Benjamin Button - an old man who had somehow gotten into the body of a twenty five year old. It truly mystified you. 

Either way, it meant that you spent dinner with season three of Friends on as background noise. Friends being a box set of DVDs that you had gifted him because you considered it to be classic television that he needed to see. The first time he had asked Morgan to his face if a girl had ‘friendzoned’ him with full confidence in what the term meant, you knew that Spencer had been watching it in his free time. 

You easily fell into the comfort of your surroundings, enjoying the comforting canned laughter of the show, paired with the delightfully greasy food and Spencer’s ongoing commentary - both about the show, and about other, completely unrelated things. You were so relaxed that you had almost completely forgotten about the gift you had waiting in your bag for him. 

It was such a strange coincidence that he had been the one to bring it up. 

He offered to take your plate into the kitchen, leaving behind a waft of soy sauce as he went. You were wonderfully full and reached to the small side table where you were nursing a half empty (now warm) diet coke. You took a few sips from it, and heard Spencer’s footsteps shuffling back into the room. He hovered behind you as you watched Monica rush out of her bedroom with her phone pressed to her chest, concerned about calling Richard. 

You were so focused on the show that you almost didn’t hear Spencer’s shy, tentative voice when he spoke. 

“I’m sorry about the other day.” He said quietly. 

“Hmm?” You looked over your shoulder at him, wondering what he meant. 

He was rather nervously fidgeting with his hands, standing in the white glow of the TV in the dimly lit room - the only other source of light being a small lamp on the side table and dimness of the light above the stove shining in from the kitchen at his back. 

You grabbed up the remote and paused the show, silencing the characters and their temporary problems in order to address the stress that Spencer was very clearly feeling - his whole body tight, hunched over, his face quite tight with worry. 

“I’m sorry about the other day.” He repeated himself, slightly louder this time - perhaps not more confident, but simply not drowned out by any further noise. 

You didn’t want to butt in, and gave him the room to explain himself slowly. 

“I - I didn’t mean to put you in such an… uncomfortable position. If I don’t understand the things you say, I should just pull you aside and ask you privately what you meant.” He sighed. “I - I know that I need to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes. It’s something I’m working on.” 

You became flooded with peril at this. Had he really thought that he had inconvenienced you? Put you in an ‘uncomfortable’ position? 

“Come sit down.” You told him, beginning to feel annoyed with craning your neck back to get a proper look at him. 

Like a dog being beckoned, he couldn’t help but to follow your order. 

He sunk down against the other arm of the three seater couch, leaving quite a bit of space between the two of you. He had his arms folded - closed off, clearly nervous. His eyes were focused on the leg of his pants, distinctly refusing to look at you. Perhaps he was afraid he would find disgust or disappointment among your features. You turned off the TV completely then and angled your body to face him before you continued speaking. 

“First of all, you don’t need to learn to keep your mouth shut.” You told him easily. “I’m not sure who, or what gave you that impression, but it’s not true. Whenever you open your mouth, something brilliant comes out, and we’re all better for it.” 

Reid’s lips flexed into a smile at the intense direct praise, and this made you happy. 

“Second, you didn’t make me uncomfortable the other day.” You told him honestly. “I meant what I said - despite you being a genius, there are still some things you need to learn. And I’m more than happy to teach you.” 

These words sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

There were so many things that he would beg for you to teach him if given the chance. But he didn’t want to embarrass himself. And most importantly, he didn’t want to come off as creepy or desperate toward someone as perfect as you. 

When he dared to glance up at you, you were boldly staring him down. You wore a small smirk across your face. Heat began to stir in Spencer’s gut, and he couldn’t help but to wonder if you were thinking the exact same things that he was. 

You couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly want someone like him. You couldn’t possibly want a nervous, inexperienced ‘virgin’ like him. 

Oh, but you did. 

You were thinking all of the same things that he was. You were imagining giving him the most intricate ‘hands on’ lessons for everything he had ever been curious about. Giving him the most close-up, detailed tour of the female anatomy he ever could have asked for. 

“Spencer,” You called out his name gently. 

This forced his attention up from fiddling with a loose thread on the edge of the couch cushion - clearly something out of nervousness - and got him to look at your face. You wondered how someone who was six feet tall could look so delicately small, purposefully slumped over in his seat like that. You wondered what his pretty features would look like warped by an orgasm. 

“What are you thinking about right now?” You asked him. You had to know if he was truly on the same filthy wavelength as you. 

He knew he had to make up a lie. Because he wouldn’t be brave enough to speak the words out loud. He was too shy to actually tell you that he was wondering what it would be like to bury his face between your breasts, that he wanted to drown there. 

“You… you did get me curious.” Spencer admitted quietly. “About the… the - uh-” 

He trailed off, clearly too nervous to say the word for himself now that he knew the filthy implications behind it. 

“About the fleshlight?” You finished the sentence for him, wanting to encourage him. 

You wanted to make him feel brave about the topic. You were too curious about where this interaction was heading - you couldn’t bear to have him get shy on you now. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, nervously clearing his throat. 

He went back to fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion, once again purposefully looking anywhere but at your face. You stared him down with purpose, all too intrigued by whatever might come out of his mouth next. Especially with the tense, thoughtful expression dipped along his eyebrows - the same one he got when he was reading or staring at maps. 

“I was thinking - I was curious - curious about - about where someone might get one of those.” He finally announced. 

He put intense stress on the word ‘where’ - his voice low, almost a lulling whisper in the already quiet apartment. He was speaking as though he was asking you about something incredibly illicit. Like a college kid asking where he could buy weed or a lonely man in his thirties inquiring about a prostitute. Though sex toys were perfectly legal, you guessed that for someone like Spencer, this was just as trepidacious. 

You felt a sense of eager giddiness stir within you. You resisted the urge to bounce on the spot like an excitable, hyper kid on their birthday waiting to open their present. Even though he wasn’t looking at your face, you forced yourself to hold back a grin. 

You didn’t want to ruin the surprise, after all. It was just too perfect. 

“Well… lucky for you, Doctor Reid,” You told him, easily capturing his attention with the use of his proper title and the fact that you shifted slightly in your seat, reaching down by your feet to grab your bag. “I happen to have a spare one right here.” 

Spencer watched you cautiously, his neck still sloped with anxious shyness. He almost had to believe that this was a prank, and you would pull a tape recorder out of your bag and laugh because you had captured his perversion for everyone to know about. 

But of course - you weren’t that cruel. You were honest, and you were definitely not half as shy as he was. In fact, he would go so far as to say that you didn’t have a bashful bone in your body. 

So of course, it made sense that it was not a big deal for you to walk into one of those stores and simply purchase that kind of toy. 

Spencer watched eagerly as you pulled out a cardboard box. He heard the rustle of plastic inside your bag and guessed that it was a shopping bag. But he couldn’t be too focused on that once your arm extended out to him, showing him what the rectangular box was. 

Spencer had never seen a sex toy in person before, but he quickly realized that they were packaged similarly to any other product. A clean, white background with a picture of the product on it, several claims and promises (‘new and improved design!’) (‘easy to clean!’) (‘soft and durable!’) - and a picture of someone smiling on the front, unconsciously promising a good user experience. In this case, it was a stereotypically beautiful woman in lingerie holding the… item, as though it were comparable… to her… to her parts. 

“Open it.” You encouraged him, wagging the box in his direction. “Unless you don’t want it. I could return it.” 

It was then that Spencer realized he had been sitting with his hands numbly in his lap for several silent moments, staring at the box in your extended hand. 

“Oh!” He said quietly. “No! I mean - yes. I - um.” Rather than trying to articulate it, he reached out and grabbed the item, finding it surprisingly heavy. It easily compared to the weight of a good book in his hands. “Thank you.” 

You would be lying if you said that watching him inspect the sex toy as though it were an object from an alien planet wasn’t the hottest thing you had seen in your entire life. Doctor Reid approached this the same way that he approached everything else in life: with intense scrutiny. Clearly his analytical mind was working hard as he carefully peeled back the cardboard flap of the box and slid out his prize. 

You had to wonder if that mind of his ever shut off. 

You wondered if you could make him dumb and cum drunk, make his head completely empty. You wondered what he would look like mindlessly chasing an orgasm, begging for release with absolutely no statistics or scientific papers running around inside that big brain of his. You wanted to see him completely worn down, just his base instincts at play. You wanted to see him with just the need to fuck and cum and have his release pounding between his ears as he whined desperately for more. 

There was a sharp pain between your legs, intense arousal at the thought of it. 

That arousal only increased when Spencer dropped the box in his lap and then - like man walking on the moon for the first time - he held the toy delicately in one hand and popped the cap off with the other. Clearly, it was a big discovery for him. Watching his eyes widen with shock did bring you an intense joy. It also immediately made you wonder if seeing the silicone pussy was his first time seeing a pussy so up close and personal at all. That thought only made your own cunt throb with need. 

What he did next nearly sent you into orbit. 

He gently placed the cap down on his lap, and without looking at you, his thoughtful eyes still entirely focused on the fake pussy - he reached toward it and oh-so-gently stroked his fingers across it. From your perspective, with the angle he was holding it at, you had a perfect view of his gorgeous hand delicately exploring the toy. Your cunt fluttered, clenching around nothing, and you knew that at this point you were definitely sitting in soaked underwear. If you didn’t know Spencer any better, you would have guessed that he was doing this on purpose, to tease you. 

But that’s what made it so perfect - he was just naive, just exploring these things for the first time. 

When he dipped two of his fingertips into the opening of the toy, you had to consciously hold back a moan. It was almost too hot watching his strong, thick fingers get swallowed up by the soft entrance of the toy. Of course, imagining how those fingers would feel dipping into your pussy with such tender grace. 

“Wow.” Spencer said quietly, almost a gasp under his breath as he pulled his fingers back, in pure awe at this new discovery. “I didn’t expect it to be so soft.”

“It’ll feel even better when it’s wet.” 

The words came so naturally from your lips, you couldn’t have stopped them if you tried. 

Spencer looked up at you with a distinct pinkness spreading over his cheeks, clearly imagining that tight, soft wetness wrapped around his cock. 

You dared to take a glance downward and surely enough - beside where the empty box was sitting in his lap, a bulge was forming in his slacks, pressing harshly against the zipper. You deeply resisted the urge to reach over and grope that bulge, not wanting to scare him by coming on too strong. Instead, you put that grabby hand back into your purse to get the other thing you had to give to him. 

“Another lesson for the genius,” You announced, extending out the bottle of lube for him to see it. This time he was quicker to grab it, bringing it up to his face to inspect it with thoughtful eyes. “Water based lubricant is best. It’s water soluble, so it’s easy to clean up. And unlike other kinds, it won’t wear down the silicone of the toy over time or wear through the latex of condoms.” 

You bringing up condoms caused a jolt in Spencer’s chest. Were you just giving him some friendly advice about safe sex or - or did you actually intend to have intercourse with him? Would there be a need for condoms between the two of you in the future? 

The words gave him a temporary bold streak (that and the sexual adrenaline pumping through his system) and he decided to voice his thoughts before he became too shy. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asked quietly, his voice taking on that sweet, mousy quality that it usually did whenever he got nervous. 

“Of course.” You nodded. 

You thought that he might have more questions about the lube or the toy. But what he said next - combined with the fact that he looked at you shyly through his lashes like a doll, like he knew exactly what he was doing - absolutely knocked the wind out of you. 

“You… You said that you like teaching me things. So - do you think-?” 

He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. 

“Could - could you give me a demonstration?” He asked, his voice still shy and sweet. 

Your lips gaped in shock - at first you thought you had misheard him. And when the words fully penetrated your ears, you thought that you had somehow misunderstood him. He couldn’t possibly mean-? He wanted you to use the toy on him? 

You were shocked that Spencer Reid was openly asking for something like that. 

Seeing the shock and slight confusion across your features, Spencer’s mouth raced past his better judgment. His lips plowed over that thing in the back of his brain nagging at him to shut up - and he kept on going. 

“It only seems logical that, when tackling something new, especially something this… skill-based, I would need to be shown what to do.” He explained, his mouth running off in that way it always did when he sounded far too much like he knew what he was talking about. “It seems advisable to be shown by someone with more experience. Experience that I don’t have. I need you to show me. Please.” 

The last word came out as a breathy plea from him. You could have easily gotten stuck on the fact that he had basically just admitted to you that he was a virgin. But instead, him simply saying that word: ‘please’, begging to you like your attention was the most precious thing in the world; it kickstarted something in your brain and switched on the dominant persona that you had always wanted to use with him. 

The air shifted in the room then, and you both knew it. It was like a fire crackling around you. Spencer didn’t know what to do with it, but luckily, you did. He waited with anxious breath for your guidance, your instruction. 

“You need me to show you?” You repeated his words, using the buttery sweet voice that you usually did when you had someone so willing and pliant for you. 

Instinctively, you reached over to him and gently cupped his cheek. He easily leaned into the touch, shuddering with delight and letting out a small sigh as you made contact with his skin for the first time. It was the first time you had really touched him, aside from casual hugs of comfort after stressful situations that the job naturally gave the two of you. But this was entirely different. 

He hummed in affirmation to answer your question, his eyes growing large with lust, pupils blown out as he melted into you. 

“What do you want me to show you, pretty boy?” You asked, running your thumb along his bottom lip, admiring how absolutely pink his mouth was. 

You hoped that you could prompt a genuine answer out of him - get him to say the words. You had never heard Spencer talk about anything crude before, and you wondered if he was even capable of talking dirty. You hoped that if he wouldn’t say the words on his own, you could coach him into doing it. You could only imagine the satisfaction of getting that smart mouth to utter such filthy things. 

“I want…” Spencer swallowed harshly, clearly having a difficult time with his mouth drying out now that you had a hand on him, even though the touch was fairly ‘innocent’. “I want you to show me… everything.”

The intense emphasis that he put on the word sent sparks flying inside of you. 

It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a ‘demonstration’ of the toy. It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a one night stand to get off. 

Intense want flared up of you. 

The temptation to own him, to make him yours… the temptation to take all of his first and have him tied to you like a lost puppy because of it - it was an intense one. But you wouldn’t hurt him, no. You would do it right. You would own him in that way because he wanted it just as badly as you did. 

“Spencer,” 

You said his name suddenly, harconing for his attention with it. You stroked your thumb along his cheek before you pulled the touch away completely. His head bobbed forward slightly to chase your hand, but he let you go without protest. 

“If we’re going to do this, there has to be rules.” You told him firmly. “If I’m going to be your teacher, you have to listen to me. Teachers need rules, right?” 

Spencer nodded vigorously at this. 

“Of course. Yeah - yeah. You’re right.” He eagerly agreed. Then of course, he asked the obvious question. “What are the rules?” 

You beamed a smile at him, loving his enthusiasm. 

You knew that he would be a good boy. He was so eager to follow rules, to learn. Your body began tingling with delight at the thought of him looking up at you with hazy eyes, asking for his next command. 

You had to forcibly clear your head. Right now you had to be level headed in order to teach him the rules. 

“Okay the first rule - the most important one,” You prefaced, causing Spencer to straighten up slightly, showing his attentiveness, an eager student ready to learn. “Is that you need to pick a safeword. A word you can say during the scene so that I can know if you’re uncomfortable or if you need to stop.” 

“‘The scene’?” Spencer asked, repeating back the phrase to you. “Also - why can’t the safeword just be ‘stop’, or ‘no’? Wouldn’t you just stop things if I said ‘no’?” 

You decided to tackle his questions one at a time. 

“Calling it a ‘scene’ - it’s lingo.” You said. “You know that everything comes with its own set of linguistics.” You told him, playing into his pre-existing knowledge. He nodded at this. 

You then continued your explanation. 

“A ‘scene’ means… any type of sexual play. Some people call it ‘playtime’. It’s lingo that exists because for a lot of people, sex is much more than just intercourse. It can start with speech and behavior and any interactions that they have with their partner when they’re alone. Like foreplay. So a safeword needs to be included in those moments too, in case someone needs to call timeout.” 

Spencer nodded at this. It made him wish that he had developed a safeword with Lila Archer. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed the oral sex - but because to this day, he still shuddered at the possibility of being embarrassed by someone walking in on them, or the consequences if someone found out about the improprieties of it all. 

“As far as the safeword being ‘no’, or ‘stop’...” You took the time to find the right words to explain it. 

Spencer waited patiently, feeling curious about this. 

“I will always look out for your safety, and if you seem uncomfortable, I’ll ask you if you’re okay.” You assured him, giving him a gentle pat on the knee. Spencer smiled at this, and you enjoyed that you had comforted him with these words. 

“But sometimes ‘no’ doesn’t work.” You went on to explain. “Like… if I asked you something like ‘do you want me to stop?’ and you say ‘no’, that is a positive affirmation to continue what I’m doing, but it uses a negative word. Same thing with the word ‘stop’. If you told me ‘don’t stop’ - but your voice was too quiet on the first word or I didn’t properly hear you, then I may stop when you wouldn’t want me to.” 

For the first time, Spencer felt as though he was the one being schooled. 

You telling him ‘I may stop when you don’t want me to’ had him drawing an image up in his head of you vigorously riding him, taunting him while you were so well composed and he was reduced to a stuttering mess because of your wetness clenching around him. With you mistaking his words for a signal of distress, and taking away your beautiful body before he got to orgasm. It would be tragic. 

He easily understood what you meant. 

“The point of a safeword,” You continued on. “Is that it stands out. It’s a word you would never otherwise say during playtime. A word that would never come up during sex - except for you signaling your discomfort. So when I hear that word, I know that we need to shift gears into aftercare.” 

“What’s aftercare?” Spencer asked, eager to learn another new term as it was introduced to him. 

Again, you were puzzled about how to explain it, how to put it into words for someone who had no clue what the word meant. 

These were things you had known about for years, words that were a natural part of your vocabulary now. Things you had been doing before you even knew the terms for it. It was strange having to explain it to someone so fresh. 

“It - um…” You thought for a moment. “Aftercare is what happens after a scene. It’s the period of time when you mentally and physically wind down, in order to take care of your body and mind. Because of the physical exertion and the endorphins, sex can be exhausting and mentally tedious, as much as it is fun. So - aftercare helps transition the body and mind back into non-sexual activities. Different people need different kinds of aftercare, but usually it’s things like: drinking water, eating a snack, cuddling, words of affirmation.” 

“That sounds nice.” Spencer said quietly. “Would you do that for me even - even though I’m not your boyfriend?” 

You held back what you instinctively wanted to say - that you wanted him to be your boyfriend. That you wanted to own him like a cute little pet and didn’t want any other woman (or man) to touch him. 

Instead, you went with the diplomatic answer. 

“Of course I would.” You told him. “Aftercare is part of being a good - a good teacher.” 

You quickly cut yourself off from using the word ‘dominant’ and replaced it with ‘teacher’ instead. You didn’t want to scare him with the idea that you would be intimidating, mean, cold - traditional ideas behind the term ‘dominant’. 

“I want to be good to you, Spence.” You quickly added on. 

His cock throbbed inside of his pants at this. 

“So, you have to pick your safeword.” You told him. “Something that stands out, something that will easily come to your mind.” 

Spencer took a moment, and you saw him take a sideways glance at the coffee table. The chess set that was there caught his eye, and that didn’t surprise you. 

“Bishop?” Spencer posed, looking at you with eyes that said he was absolutely searching for your approval. “Is that good?” 

“Yes, baby, that’s perfect.” You told him. 

If you did your job well enough as a dominant, then he wouldn’t need to use the word. 

You would be able to tell just by his body language and him voicing his enjoyment how far you should take things. And when he was comfortable enough, you would discuss other sexual acts, and what else you should try. Though, for tonight, you had a feeling you should take control without telling him too much of what you wanted to do. You didn’t need him getting shy on you just because of some dirty talk. 

“You said that was only the first rule,” Spencer mentioned, remembering what you had said. “What are the other rules?” 

“Well, the second rule is: you listen to me. You listen to everything I say. You do everything I say. You don’t question me.” You told him firmly. “Because I’m the teacher, I’m in charge.” 

Spencer wanted to question you then. He wanted to point out that this sounded like multiple rules, but the way you said ‘I’m in charge’ caused something inside of him to quake, and he easily fell under your authority. 

He nodded. 

“The next rule is: you speak when spoken to, Spencer.” You told him, your tongue sharp on the words. 

You were heavily enjoying ordering him around now. 

These were two roles that the two of you fell so naturally into: he was soft and submissive under your dominant energy, and he only wanted more as your ego thrived off his eager submission. It was the start of a beautiful relationship forming. 

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” The title came flying out of his mouth before he could stop it, and then he instantly wanted to backpedal. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, I like that.” You told him with a grin. “Though, if you want to give me a title, call me Miss.” 

You held back from telling him the true title you desired. Again, not wanting to scare him away. Perhaps it was something you could ween him towards on another day. 

“Yes, Miss.” He corrected, nodding. “Uh - Miss? Is - is there anything else?” 

“Only two more things.” You told him. Of course, you didn’t want to overload him, but you wanted him to know your most important rules up front. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain. “You can’t touch me without asking first. And of course, you can’t touch me unless I give you permission.” 

This news cast the saddest puppy look across his features. Clearly, he was deeply disappointed by the thought that he wouldn’t be able to grope and grab at your body freely. He was upset by the thought that you would deny him access to touching you. You could definitely use that if he ever misbehaved. 

“And the last thing is: you can’t cum without my permission.” You told him, almost as if it were an afterthought. With any of your other partners, it would have been. Because it would have been a basic ground rule. 

“Come where?” Spencer asked, his brows knit together in the most adorably confused manner you had seen yet. 

Of course, he was confused. He had never before heard someone use the term ‘cum’ to refer to an orgasm. He was used to hearing that word - ‘come’ - paired with something else like ‘come here’. So he wondered what the hell you possibly meant by it. 

You found yourself grinning like the cat who ate the canary as you realized that you would also have to explain this piece of slang to him. 

“No, Spence, not C-O-M-E, like the verb. It’s C-U-M. It’s slang used interchangeably with the word ‘orgasm’.” You explained to him. “Sometimes it can be a verb. Like the act of cumming, it means orgasming. Or sometimes it’s a noun. Sometimes people use the word ‘cum’ instead of saying semen. ‘Cum’ is the fluid. As in: ‘I want your cum inside of me’.” 

You intentionally teased him with this example, saying it as casually as a straight forward grammar lesson, looking him in the eyes the entire time. His eyes lit up at your words - obviously, he had no clue that such a simple sentence could turn him on so much. But the words immediately painted a picture in his mind of that white, sticky fluid dripping down your inner thighs, put there by him. It was so perfect that it almost made him dizzy. 

When Spencer didn’t say anything, you continued with your ‘lesson’. 

“When I said that you can’t cum without my permission, I meant that you can’t have an orgasm unless I say so.” You told him with finality.  

He looked struck with worry at this. Partially at the idea that he wouldn’t get to have an orgasm if you didn’t give him permission, and partially at the thought that if he accidentally orgasmed without your permission, you would be angry with him and cut off all further sexual contact. 

“What’s wrong, Spence?” You had to ask. 

“How - how does that work?” He asked, all too curious at how he could stop himself from orgasming or how he could get your permission first. 

“Well, you know what it feels like when you’re about to have an orgasm, right?” You asked, really hoping that he at least masturbated regularly. You didn’t think you could have the burden of giving him his first ever orgasm. He nodded and this and you felt a small breath of relief leave you. “So, when you feel like that, you simply ask me if you’re allowed to cum. Ask me if you can cum.” 

“Will you let me?” Spencer asked nervously, sheepishly. You distinctly noticed how he avoided the word. He didn’t say the sentence as you had. You yearned to hear him say ‘will you let me cum?’ - but you knew you had to give him time to shake off his shyness. 

“If you’ve been a good boy, then yes.” You told him. “Good boys follow the rules. But I don’t think you’ll have any problems, Spence.” 

You saw him relax at this - any tension leaving his muscles. 

You conveniently left out the part where you might edge him, might not let him cum just for your own amusement. 

“I think that’s all for now.” You told him. “Now that we have the rules set - do you wanna play with your new toy?” 

Spencer’s face absolutely lit up at this. 

“Yes, please.” He said, his voice somehow still shy and quiet. “Yes, please, Miss.” 

Your stomach jolted with intense pleasure at his declaration. 

Spencer thought that you would simply grab the toy from him and unzip his pants. He was surprised when you stood up, and began looking around the room as though you were looking for something. But in alignment with the rules, he didn’t question you. He didn’t ask what you were looking for or why. Instead, he just sat there quietly and waited for your instructions. 

When you seemed satisfied with your idea, you then began moving around. You leaned down and pushed away the coffee table, pushing it as far back as it would go. This made a fair amount of space in front of the couch. And before Spencer could become truly curious about it, you turned to the side of the room - toward a space where he had a small table. 

It was meant to be a sort of ‘dining’ table, suitable for one or two people in an apartment like his. It had two chairs, but one of the chairs was piled up with books and the surface of the table had some files on it that he had taken home from work. He did sit on the other chair to eat occasionally - during the rare times he actually sat down and had a meal at home. 

You grabbed the empty chair - which was a wooden chair with a round back and decorative wooden bars coming off the seat, holding the back of it up. (Something Spencer had picked up at a yard sale.) And then you put the chair in the middle of the room, right in the space you had cleared from moving the coffee table. The chair was facing the couch - and it became apparent to Spencer then that this was a stage. 

You were either going to sit in that chair and watch him, or he was going to be the thing on display in the middle of the room. The idea of that happening - the idea of you watching him like a show, like he was something to admire - that put a twist in his stomach. It was something almost too daunting for him to conquer. He found himself swelling with shyness again, wanting to back down from this. 

He feared that he wouldn’t be able to impress you. He feared that he was gangly, thin, undesirable. He feared that his experience would steer him wrong somewhere and he would mess up terribly and turn you off. 

He thought that he wouldn’t be able to impress you. 

But he wanted to impress you so badly. He wanted you. He wanted your touch. He wanted to be a good boy for you, like you had said. 

“Give me your belt.” You said, turning to him expectantly and holding out your hand. 

“My - my belt?” He asked. 

Then, he immediately scolded himself inside as he realized that was questioning you, and against the rules. 

You let that one slide. He was still getting used to this, and it must have been an odd, confusing instruction to hear right off the bat. 

“Yes, your belt. I need it.” You said, still holding out your hand. “Come on.” 

Spencer stood up then, his hands and legs shaking slightly from nerves and the overwhelming lust. Although he was taller than you, he felt so entirely small as you stared at him, waiting patiently while his shaking hands struggled to undo the buckle and then slip the leather out of the belt loops.

When he finally handed it over to you, you took the belt in hand and inspected it for a moment before you quietly said ‘perfect’ under your breath. You then looked between Spencer and the chair - he was still wearing his work attire. A cardigan, a button up shirt and tie, his usual slacks, and his adorable dorky glasses. He had taken off his shoes at the door, revealing his oddly sweet mismatched socks. 

“Spencer,” 

You called his name, capturing his attention from where he was swaying on the spot, nervously fidgeting with the buttons on his cardigan to avoid looking at you. As soon as he looked up at you with those big, wet eyes, you felt confident in giving him your next instruction. 

“I want you to take off all your clothes. Except for your glasses and your socks.” You told him, giving him his first proper orders. 

He held his voice in his throat when he felt the need to question you about it, to ask you why. 

You wanted him to keep the glasses on because they brought an entirely dorky charm to him - you wanted to see if they would fog up when he became heated with lust. The socks? You thought they were cute, but it was mostly a test to see how closely he would follow the instructions. To test how well he would listen. 

He did as he was told. He stripped off his sweater, and then his tie, and then his watch, leaving his wrists nice and bare for you. His fingers began to shake slightly as he descended on the buttons of his shirt - clearly, he was feeling nervous once again, so you decided to give him some encouragement. 

“You’re being such a good boy, Spence.” You told him. “So good for me.” 

He let out a quiet breath at the praise - a precursor to a moan. It was something that compelled him to strip faster, and gave him a small boost of courage when reaching for the zipper of his pants. After he unzipped them - his erection clearly fighting to be freed of the fabric - your mouth began watering at the sight as he reached for the waistband of his pants and his underwear all at once and slid them down. 

A snake of surprising length popped out of his pants. His dick began bobbing around carelessly, smearing shiny precum all over his skin as he unhooked himself from the legs of his pants and put them aside. 

You had to marvel at it. 

You had never really thought about what Spencer might look like naked before. You had never allowed your mind to venture there. But now that you were seeing his cock: nine inches long, skinny and lean like he was, pale with a bright pink tip, sprouting from a thick thatch of dark pubic hair - it just made sense. He was tall and gangly, and so was his cock. It would be an impressive sword to impale yourself upon - but that would be for another day. 

Spencer caught you staring, of course. 

He had the urge to cover himself with his hands, and found himself clenching his fists by his sides because he figured that you wouldn’t like him trying to hide from you. 

He wondered if it looked weird. He wondered if you didn’t like it. He wondered-

“You’re beautiful, Spencer.” You said, your voice so drenched in utter sincerity that you almost broke into a gasp trying to get the words out. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Again, he wanted to question you - but didn’t. He wanted to be a good boy. He would follow the rules. 

“Th-thank you, Miss.” He muttered out quietly, almost unable to accept the compliment. 

“Come here, sit down.” You told him, motioning toward the chair. 

He nodded, his legs feeling rather numb as he moved to follow your instructions. When his ass made contact with the wooden surface of the chair, he let out a gasp at how cool it was compared to his heated skin. You quietly giggled at this, and then grabbed the belt from where you had put it down. He grew tense and curious once again when you walked behind him. 

You grabbed one of his wrists and began to guide it behind him, but he was so tense that you knew it would be uncomfortable for him. You eased your touch with a flat palm up his forearm and bicep, across his shoulder until you could press the weight of your thumb into the base of his neck. He moaned lightly at this, melting into the touch. 

“Relax, baby.” You urged. Spencer relaxed even further at the nickname, absolutely blooming with affection inside because of it. “I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good.” 

To drive home this point, you leaned in and planted a simple kiss on the back of his head, and then one on the side of his neck. Spencer let out a fluttering moan at this. He wanted more of those kisses, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask for it. 

He could find no faults with what you had said, so he did his best to do as you instructed. He relaxed, leaning back fully against the chair - which was slightly uncomfortable while he was completely naked and throbbing hard, waiting for you to touch him more. But he trusted you. 

You grabbed one of his wrists, and then the other, and guided them behind his back. 

It was much easier now that his muscles were softer, more pliant to you. 

You knelt down and used the belt to tie them simply. You looped the belt through the wooden slats so his hands would be held to the chair, and then placed both of his wrists into the loop. You didn’t want it to be so tight that the material would cut into his wrists painfully or cut off circulation, you just wanted to restrict his movement. 

Which would absolutely be the case when his arms were bound behind him, awkwardly tied to the back of the chair. You hooked the buckle into the smallest notch, giving him a bit of room to move, a bit of a gap to put your finger between the belt and his skin. However, it put his shoulders at an awkward angle so he would need your help getting out of it. 

“Is that okay?” You asked. “Not too tight? Be honest.” 

Spencer thought that he should feel slightly afraid or too vulnerable - being completely naked and tied to a chair like this. But with you, he felt safe. 

“It’s good.” He told you honestly. “Not too tight.” He assured you, moving to show off that wiggle room, demonstrating that the material wasn’t cutting into his wrists. 

“Good,” You sighed quietly, standing up once again. 

You walked around him like a predator circling their prey, making graceful, careful moments as you took in the sight of him. 

He was absolutely, beautifully sinful in this state. 

Stripped entirely naked, except for those glasses and those adorable, mismatched socks, sitting in the chair with his hands bound behind his back. All while he stared at you with his wide, expectant eyes, waiting for whatever your next move would be. While his heavy, hard cock leaked freely against his stomach, smearing a trail of sticky precum across his skin. 

You reached forward and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up slightly to look at you. Having someone as tall as Spencer look up at you for a change was entirely powerful. You held him there while you asked him a very important question. 

“You gonna be good for me?” You asked him. 

Instinctively for him, there was only one answer. 

“Yes.” He whimpered out. “Yes, Miss. I want to be good for you.” 

The pure sincerity of his declaration caused another wave of wetness from your aching pussy. For now, you would ignore your own needs. You would take care of him, make sure that this was a pleasurable experience for him. 

“Good boy,” You praised him, giving him a light kiss on the forehead - to which he sighed quietly in delight. 

Then, you let go of his face completely and turned to grab the item that had started this whole thing. 

You were excited to finally use it on Spencer. 

Spencer watched with awe and intrigue as you grabbed the toy and then the lube - you peeled off the plastic shrink wrap on the lube bottle with your teeth, and then popped the cap. And you turned so Spencer could see as you poured a generous amount of lube into the opening of the toy. 

“Don’t be afraid to use too much lube,” You told him, being a proper teacher. “In my opinion, there’s no such thing as ‘too wet’. But ‘too dry’ can cause skin irritation from friction. Or tearing if you’re trying to insert something like fingers or a penetrative toy. Like a dildo. Adequate lubrication always reduces the risk of both those things,” 

Spencer wanted to ask if there were other kinds of penetrative toys aside from dildos, but he figured that would be a question for another time. 

“Yes, Miss.” He nodded in understanding, absorbing what you had told him. 

You looked between the toy and his cock, and realized you might as well slick him up beforehand. 

You took a step closer to him and put the thickness of the fleshlight between his thighs, propping it there while you quietly mumbled ‘hold this’ - which caused him to tense his thighs in order to keep it from falling. He became enraptured by the sight of the silicone pussy, lubed and wet as a real one would be. He was so distracted by the sight that he almost didn’t take in you pouring lube into your hand before you capped the bottle and put it aside. 

“This is probably gonna be cold,” You warned him quietly before you used your lubed hand to take a hold of his cock. 

It was. And he let out a harsh gasp - from the shock of the cold wetness, a sound that quickly turned into a strangled moan as you formed a loose grip around his cock and began spreading the wetness over him with purpose. The lube soon warmed between your palm and the throbbing skin of his cock, and he unconsciously bucked into your touch, almost knocking the fleshlight out from resting between his thighs. 

“Stay still.” You ordered sharply, shoving his hips back down with your free hand. 

The harshness behind your voice, and your thumb pressing into his hip bone sent him reeling. He was so pliant under your touch. Between your commanding authority and the slickness of your lubed hand moving in a slow rhythm in lazy pumps up and down his cock - he was already way too fucking close. 

You knew it. You could see the way his stomach muscles quaked, the tensing of his thighs. Those little lilting gasps like music to your ears. 

You wondered if he would spurt cum all over your hand before he warned you. (If he did, you would likely pump him through it just to see if he would get hard again.) 

“Miss-!” He hollered, choking on the word. 

You abruptly stopped then. You stiffened your grip around the base of his cock - which was now nicely lubed up, and throbbing even harder as you effectively used your fingers around his pelvis like a cockring, causing his orgasm to fade dully back into his muscles. He let out a wounded sound, a confused moan from deep in his chest, his stomach shaking even harder as if he was trying to force the orgasm out past your gatekeeping touch. It was almost cute. 

“Yes, Spencer?” You asked, looking at him dumbly as though you had no clue what he had been trying to say. 

“I - I was getting close.” He completed the thought breathlessly. “C-close to orgasm.” 

Damn. If he was this fucked out now, you couldn’t wait to see what he would be like when you were done with him. 

“Well, good boys only cum with permission, right?” You said, grinning at him fiendishly. 

“Yes, Miss.” He said quickly, his voice dull with disappointment, but agreeable. 

“Good boy.” You praised once again. You felt his cock twitch in your hand at the words. “Besides, you haven’t even gotten a chance to try out your new toy yet.” 

You then grabbed up the toy and turned it over, using your hand on the base of his cock to feed his length into the fake pussy. More cool lube came rushing down to meet him, and his lungs shook once again and his heated skin was shocked by the feeling. It was strange, but pleasurable as his cock was enveloped by the soft, wet walls of the toy. It was so, so very tight around his cock - and oddly cool, far wetter than he had expected thanks to the amount of lube you had used. 

Spencer reasoned that it might be like sticking his cock in a watermelon, if that watermelon were also made of rubber bands. 

You knelt down in front of Spencer, looking in awe between the spot where his cock disappeared into the fake leaking pussy to his face. Seeing his reaction to this was utterly beautiful - the way his jaw naturally fell open, his eyes half closed as the pleasure overtook him. 

“Oh!” Spencer let out a sudden, high startled sound as you shoved the toy down onto his cock fully. 

Your eyes once again flickered between his dick and his face, and you came to an utterly stunning realization. 

He didn’t fully fit inside of the toy. 

There was about an inch of his cock that was still sticking out of it at the base, and with the resistance your hand had brought up into, you knew that he was fully seated inside of it. Well - as fully seated as he could get, apparently. 

It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen, and it sent a dizzying wave of endorphins through you. The sight of his cock not fully fitting into the silicone pussy was a stunning visual that made you realize just how deep he would go inside of you. It made your throat dry for a moment, forced you to swallow hard before you could speak. 

“You’re right here, baby?” You asked, tapping a finger on the top of the toy, knowing that he would feel it as a vibration through the plastic. 

He let out a gasp and bucked his hips up slightly, something that made you smile. He was too hazy to answer you already, something that you forgave for now. He was just too beautiful to scold in these moments. 

“Fuck, you don’t even fit into this thing all the way, do you?” You gasped quietly, still absolutely marveling at the sight. 

“I don’t?” Spencer gaped, finally looking down to where the toy was swallowing his cock, seeing as your words had captured his attention. “Is - is that bad?” 

He was struck with worry. He thought that perhaps his cock wasn’t right - that he shouldn’t be doing this, that you wouldn’t like him. 

It was in that moment that you realized what a treasure you had come across. A beautiful, intelligent man with a huge cock who had no idea how to use it. Someone who needed to be taught from scratch. Someone who could be molded into anything you wanted him to be. (At least in the sexual sense.) That, and he seemed to be naturally submissive and derive pleasure from following your orders. 

You most definitely weren’t going to let him go anytime soon. 

“No, baby, that’s a good thing.” You assured him. “That’s a great thing.” 

Spencer smiled at this - an expression that slacked off into a moan when you made your next move. 

You gave the toy a slow half-pump before you seated it on his cock again, seemingly knocking the wind out of them. Then, you let go of the toy completely, letting him sit there with the fleshlight on his cock, bobbing in mid-air. It began to rise up slightly as the tightness of it hugged his cock, and unconsciously, he bucked up his hips, seeking more friction. But of course - the object was simply hanging there, seated on his cock, unmoving. It was an entirely fruitless venture. 

With his hands tied behind his back, he needed you. It was an adorable struggle to watch for a moment, especially when his face knit with frustration and his thighs began to quiver from the effort. 

“Please,” He begged. He was so pretty when he begged. “Help me.” 

“You want me to help you fuck your toy?” You teased, reaching for it again. 

“Please, Miss.” 

When he whined like that, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. 

You took a good grip on the plastic then, and began a quick, smooth rhythm. You were eager to see his reaction to being fucked well, being fucked without hesitation. 

Spencer immediately shuddered and began letting out harsh whimpers. He bit his lip, but it didn’t keep the sounds from wailing out of his throat as you pumped the toy up and down on his cock. 

His chin was tilted down onto his chest, keeping his eyes locked on the place where the toy was devouring his hard cock. This caused his glasses to slip down his nose bridge slightly, something so entirely adorable to you in the moment. With his thighs tense and his stomach quaking, with that pool of artificial wetness leaking onto his pubes and slowly creeping down over his balls - he was so beautifully fucked out, the most perfect picture you had ever seen in your life. 

“Oh - oh, oh, oh god!” His mouth fell open once again and an array of sounds fell out, a beautiful little choir that you could have only dreamed of coming from him. “Oh, please!” 

You had to wonder if he was the type of person to swear when he came. Spencer was never the type of person to swear during other extreme situations. You had never seen him let out a single curse, not even with a gun to his head. 

You had to wonder if you could be the one to make him swear. 

“Please, Miss!” He squeaked out, sounding entirely wrecked and desperate. “Please, I’m close-!” 

You couldn’t resist the temptation of stilling the toy completely, abruptly cutting off his orgasm once again. Spencer let out a broken sound as his muscles jolted and the feeling ebbed through him - so close, but not quite there. It was like a terrible ache in his muscles. Like a deep, terrible thirst with nothing to drink. 

“Please,” He begged, his eyes shooting to lock onto you. “Please! Please, Miss.” 

“Please, what, baby?” You teased him, reaching up and gently carding your fingers through his hair, brushing some of it off his forehead. He had a light sheen of sweat going, his body clearly strained. It was delightful to witness. 

“Please,” He rasped out brokenly, so entirely desperate.  “I - I need it.” 

You bit your lip, holding back laughter at how perfect this was.

“Need what, baby?” You continued to tease him. “Come on, use your words.” 

He swallowed hard, and stared at you with glassy desperation in his eyes. Either he was shy, or had no clue what exactly it was you wanted him to say - so you decided to guide him along. 

“Say: I need to cum.” You told him, hoping that he was desperate enough now that he would simply repeat the filthy words. 

“I - I need to cum.” He repeated, only mild hesitation on his lips. 

“Say: I need you to make me cum.” You told him, pushing it a bit father. 

“I need you,” He said, pausing slightly to catch his breath. “Need you to make me cum.” 

“Good boy.” You praised him, running his hand through your hair once again. 

You stood up this time, and put one hand on the back of the chair behind his shoulder for leverage, leaning over him as you took the toy in hand and started moving it once again. This gave him a perfect view down your top, and his lustful gaze locked onto your swaying cleavage as you worked on jacking the fake pussy on his cock. It was a maddening suction that had him grunting lowly with every thrust, letting out whines, flexing his hips to fuck his cock up into the toy. 

“Does it feel good, pretty boy?” You asked, so heavily enjoying the sight of him so messy, so wrecked. 

“Yes!” He easily replied. 

“What are you thinking about? Hmm?” You couldn’t help but to ask. 

“I - hnng - I - I don’t know!” He gaped. 

Either he was lying, and simply didn’t want to tell you what was on his mind, or you had truly fucked his head empty. If it was the second, then you would heavily enjoy that fact. 

“You don’t know?” You asked, your voice absolutely teasing once again. “Well, that’s a first.” You chuckled. 

Spencer panted harshly, filling the space for a moment - along with the wet squelching of the toy moving up and down on his cock as your wrist continued to work. And then you became bold enough to ask the question that you truly wanted to. 

“You thinkin’ about my pussy?” You prodded. “You imagining that this toy is me? Wondering what’s gonna be like when I finally sit on your cock?” 

“Yes!” He was suddenly very eager to admit to this. Clearly it helped that he didn’t have to say the words for himself. “Yes! Yes, Miss! I want you. I want your-”

He cut himself off suddenly, moaning sharply as the tip of his cock brought up in the end of the fake pussy once again. It sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through him that had his skin boiling even hotter. You wondered if he would be bold enough to say the word ‘pussy’ or if you would have to heavily prompt him. 

But that thought left your head completely with his next words. 

“Oh! Oh, please! I’m so close!” 

Again, feeling the devil rise up inside of you, you stopped off his orgasm. 

This time, by pulling the toy away completely. You lifted the fleshlight off his cock, and watched with lustful joy as his cock slipped out of the opening with a wet pop. His thighs quaked with bitter agony and his long cock bobbed in the air, dripping thick waves of precum and lube as it separated from the toy. 

Everything was so wet. 

It was honestly a gorgeous sight, like a mini tidal wave dripping down onto the chair as the toy continued to leak the generous amount of lube you had put into it and his cock let out pathetic little spurts of precum. His pubes were glossy and matted together, his inner thighs were absolutely slick. He was glistening and whining harshly as the ruined orgasm crashed through his body, making his mind somehow even hazier and more desperate. 

“God!” He choked out. “Please!” 

He blinked harshly and a few tears escaped the corners of his eyes, making him look even more gorgeous somehow. 

“Please - please! I need - I need - oh god!” He began sobbing nonsensically, begging you for release as he was practically on the verge of madness. 

Your cunt throbbed at seeing him so wrecked - so utterly dependent on you. 

“Hey, hey, shh.” You reached your free hand out and thumbed under the edge of his glasses - the thick lenses only magnifying his glassy eyes and lustful, broken tears all the more. You soothed your touch across his burning cheek, reassuring him. “You’ve been such a good boy. I’m gonna let you cum now. Okay?” 

“Please!” He sobbed. 

Hearing his voice so broken and needy probably shouldn’t have turned you on so much, but you absolutely loved it. 

“Hey, shh,” You continued to rub his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “I just need one thing from you first.” 

“Anything!” He easily declared. 

“I need you to say: ‘may I cum, please?’” You told him. 

It was a start on the scale of filthy things that you wanted to hear from his mouth, but it would definitely be oh so satisfying. 

And then - as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, he blinked his big eyes and looked up at you through tear wet lashes, giving you the most pouty, fuckable look as he leaned into your hand before he said the words. 

“May I cum, please?” He asked. And then, like the wet dream that he was, he seamlessly added on. “Please, Miss. I-I’ve been a good boy.” 

“Yes, you have been.” You told him. “I’ll make you cum now baby.” 

You used both hands to get his cock back inside of the toy - the sound of his cock fucking back into the fake pussy was so much wetter, the whine he let out made your knees weak. 

You doubled your efforts now, even going so far as to squeeze your grip on the outside of the plastic - which made the silicone grip his cock just that little bit tighter as you slammed it up and down on him. Your movements were hard and fast in the effort to make him cum for certain this time. 

“Oh, oh, oh, you - oh!” Spencer began babbling nonsense, his words barely broken up by harsh breaths being sucked into his lungs and whimpers emanating from his throat at the intense pleasure. “Oh, Miss - you - you’re so - ah!” 

“Where’s that big IQ now, boy genius?” You taunted him, keeping up the brutal pace. “Did I make you all stupid? Did I melt your big brain? Huh?” 

Spencer all but confirmed this as truth when he gurgled out nothingness as a response. 

You felt slightly bolder, and you became slightly harsher in your degrading words. You almost couldn’t help yourself. You loved tearing him apart so much, having him melt under your touch. You couldn’t help but to brag about the amazing job you had done. 

“Just a dumb little baby now, aren’t you?” You cooed, your voice entirely condescending. “Just a stupid little boy for me. So cumdrunk you can’t even think now, huh? There’s no boy genius here now. Just a dumb baby who needs to cum.” 

He only inflated your ego with his next words. 

“Yes!” He shouted out, entirely confirming what you had said - if he had even properly heard it through the blood pumping in his ears. To him, it might have just been the raw hum of your voice in the background, like an undertone with no true words to it. “Yes! Need - need t’ cum!” 

It was the most incoherent you had ever known Doctor Spencer Reid to be. 

You stared on eagerly as you watched his stomach tighten up, his lungs struggling for breath. 

“Y/N-!” He gasped out your name right before it hit him. 

And when it hit him, when he finally tumbled over the edge into the abyss - boy, it was a big one. 

It was an intense, full body orgasm. His legs shook, his body arched off the chair as though he were having a seizure, actually putting a strain on his bonded arms for the first time. He wildly bucked up into the toy as you continued to work it over his cock, his mouth dropping open wildly as a strain of high pitched, needy whimpers poured out from between his pretty pink lips. 

You were feeling selfish, and you wanted to see him cum at least a bit. 

So knowing that he was riding the wave, you ripped the toy off him, causing a wounded noise to come out of him as his spurting cock fell from it. But you didn’t leave him hanging. You immediately replaced the toy with your hand, and put a tight grip around him, pumping viciously over his throbbing cock, wanting to milk the rest of the orgasm out of him by hand. 

The sudden, shocking overstimulation sent his body into overdrive. 

His thighs shook so hard it could have been mistaken for electrocution, he gasped like a drowning man - he would have begged for mercy, but he couldn’t catch his breath. 

It was the best feeling he had ever experienced. It was pure euphoria, it was heaven on earth. It was an icy hot fire running through his veins that he didn’t even know was possible. 

He had never experienced an orgasm like this before. He knew the feeling of an orgasm to be more like a dull tickle in his groin. But now that he had done this - he didn’t think he could go back to anything else. 

Large spurts of cum blasted from his cock, so overpowering then that painted his stomach, his chest, and much to your delight - a few thick white spurts even dirtied his glasses when you angled his cock that way and kept viciously pumping him. 

His cock was so hot that it felt like it could have burned your hand, so needy and bloated with blood from how long you had edged him. Eventually, when the tip of his cock began to weep out a pathetic clear liquid, and he was on the verge of sobbing once more, you let him go from your grip, finally giving him a moment to breathe. 

You knew for certain that you would never be able to look at Spencer Reid again without seeing this imagery: him, completely fucked out, his face flushed red, mouth agape as he struggled for breath. His naked body, limp cock laying against his pelvis, painted in his own cum - including dirtying up his own glasses. 

You loved those glasses even more now. 

You couldn’t get him to swear - but fuck, that was really something. 

“Thank you.” He said meekly, still struggling for breath. “Th-thank you, Miss.” 

“Good boy.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Such a good boy for me.” 

Now, it was time to take care of him and make sure that he had a good come down. 

You put the toy on the coffee table, placing it with the opening up so it wouldn’t leak everywhere - you wouldn’t clean it later. You also took off his glasses and placed them aside. Again - you would clean them later. 

You rushed to untie his hands, and eased his arms back around his body by gently rubbing his shoulders, hoping that the muscles wouldn’t be too sore or stiff from being in the same position for so long. 

“Such a good boy.” You assured him. “You did so well for me honey.” 

He hummed in acknowledgement. Clearly, he was absolutely exhausted from the ordeal. You hoped you could get his tall, gangly self to his bed on your own if he was so fucked out and weak. You walked back around to his front and laid your lips on his forehead again, murmuring more praises against his skin as you continued to rub his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. You told him how good he was, how perfect he had been for you, how beautiful he was. 

After a few minutes, you felt his hands on your hips as he came out of the haze. He ran a thumb along the waistband of your pants, and his first words after that haze surprised you. 

“What - what about you?” He asked. 

Clearly, he meant that you should have an orgasm. Your cunt was aching dully between your thighs, and you were sure that you had soaked through your underwear. But that had been a lot for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him during the first time. 

“That’ll be a lesson for next time.” You told him quietly. He hummed quietly at this. He felt assured by you simply saying ‘next time’. “I have to clean up your toy now, so you can use it again later. Then I’ll clean you up and tuck you into bed, okay, baby?” 

He nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.” 

You hesitantly broke away from him and grabbed the toy, and as you moved to leave the room, you paused at him mumbling out more words. 

“Can - can I have a glass of water, please?” He asked quietly. 

“Of course you can, baby.” 

You went into the kitchen and ran the toy under hot water - which you left going as you got a glass and filled it with cold water and ice from the dispenser. You were lucky to find a straw in the takeout bag from earlier - you put it in the glass and, while the hot water was still running in the sink, you rushed out to give Spencer a drink. 

You held the glass while he chugged gratefully from it, and after a few moments, you ensured that he could hold it with his sex tired hands by himself and then you left to finish cleaning up the toy. You set it on his empty dish rack to drip dry (which was quite a sight). And then you went to the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to wipe him down. He was only slightly unsteady on his legs as you guided him to bed - his muscles shaking and tired after the whole amazing ordeal. 

You found it endearing that his bed was unmade, surrounded by stacks of books that were lined up on the floor, rather than on any shelf. 

You pulled back the covers completely and helped him get in, and you were tucking him in nicely when he asked the sweet question. 

“Will you cuddle with me?” He asked quietly, looking up at you with those adorable, expectant eyes once again. “You know, for - for the aftercare?” 

You likely would have done it simply because he asked, even if you didn’t deem it ‘necessary’ for aftercare. But because he asked, it was part of good care. 

“Of course.” You answered. “I don’t have any pjs, so do you mind if I sleep in my underwear?” 

You had just tucked him into bed naked, and he was asking you to lay down beside him like that. But still, you wanted to ask how comfortable he would be if you were in a state of undress. 

His eyes shined with interest at the idea of seeing you at least partially undressed. 

“I don’t mind.” He told you. 

You nodded, and stepped back slightly to begin undressing. 

“So - did you have fun?” You asked. You suspected that he had entirely enjoyed himself, but you did want to hear him say it. 

Spencer grinned at this. “I think what we just did has changed my definition of ‘fun’ entirely.” He told you. “In a good way. So you know.” 

You preened at the idea that you had shifted Spencer’s worldview. Someone who most likely spent his free time reading research papers and playing through chess games entirely on his own and called it ‘fun’ would now be thinking about spending his free time playing with you instead. 

You stripped out of your pants, socks, and work blouse, which left you in your simple cotton underwear, a thin cotton camisole and your bra underneath. You decided to take off your bra underneath your shirt and just sleep in the cami and panties for comfort. You knew your underwear was stuck to your cunt from your previous burning arousal, and Spencer’s eyes did focus hard on that, and then focused even harder on the outline of your bare breasts as you ditched your bra off to the side. 

If he had the ability to get hard again after that spectacular orgasm, he probably would have been throbbing at the sight of you. 

You lifted up the covers and crawled into bed with him, cuddling into his side as he tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your stomach fluttered when he kissed the top of your head before you felt his body relax into the mattress. 

“Thank you.” He said quietly, clearly exhausted. “I love it when you teach me things.”

...

The sequel to this fic has now been posted!

Keep Reading Here: Lesson Two - Magic Metacarpals

[reidsdaisies]

spencer beggin to nut in u :3333

digital footprint doesn't exist.

(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖)

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; pretty boy cursing and moaning (🫠), 1 use of ‘y/n’, kinda sub!spence? (its always sub spence), unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), spencer begging to nut inside you (🫠 x♾️) but not breeding kink, creampie.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; basically 0.6k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; Aine, coming to my rescue for the second time!! right now i’m working on that post-prison spencer and i know everything takes me a while (i’m the #1 procrastinator ☹️) but this one’s gonna take me a little longer too because i really want to make it a longer fic which is something i suck at cuz again i’m the slowest b ever in every aspect of life but i’ve got big plans. ik for sure i’m gonna go back and forth wondering if its good enough but i’m gonna try something new and stick to it

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Spencer has his head tightly tucked away in your neck, heavily panting as he picks up the pace of his hips moving against yours, his dick thrusting into you. He is so lost in the feeling of it all, that oh-so-familiar and oh-so-intoxicating feeling of your cunt clenching tight around him. Repeatedly, he shamelessly moans your name, pressing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to your lips whenever he remembers he can pick his head up.

“Faster Spence, faster,” you moan, patting at his shoulder as you beg him for more, though it is clear that has been his plan all along.

“You’re so wet and- oh god- hot!” his voice cracks somewhere in the middle of his sentence, which just serves to turn you on impossibly more.

“You’re so fucking tight around me.” He bites, almost sounding angry though you know he’s feeling nothing more than pure ecstasy. His words are punctuated with an almost guttural moan from him. One of your hands finds its way up to his hair, tugging his face up that was just buried in the pillow beside your head and forcing him to look at you.

The two of you share a passionate kiss, this one different from the ones leading up to it. This time it’s more needy (if possible), executed with more purpose. He whines into your mouth, almost choking on your tongue as he rushes to pull back.

“I don’t think I can last much longer,” he whimpers against your lips, his face red, the heat from his desire scorching his skin, looking equally as defeated as he sounds, “please, baby, please, let me come inside.”

The furious pace he set of his hips falters slightly.

“Y/n!” He moans your name for the hundredth time tonight. “Please! I’m gonna come,” it’s a miracle such clear words are even able to come out of his mouth. To him it sounds like he’s speaking gibberish. His brain feels nonexistent at this point, he’s letting his body and deep carnal need for you take over him.

“Please, inside, lemme do it inside,” His voice sounds so broken, he’s so broken. His thrusts are noticeably sloppier, his breathing ten times heavier and more prominent in your ear as he’s fucking you at a pace you didn’t previously think him capable of.

Realizing he doesn’t have the strength to keep looking at you anymore, he just gives up, letting his head fall back to where it was a minute ago, planted in the soft, cloud-like feeling pillow beside your head.

“Then do it,” you moan, encouraging him to do just let go, fill you up. It doesn’t take a second after you give him the ok that he’s spasming, his mouth fallen open against your shoulder in a silent scream, as he fills you with his warmth.

Your orgasm is a blissful blur, the feeling of his cum being fucked back into you mixed with his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, albeit a bit shakily, sending you over the edge.

“Holy shit,” is all you manage to breathe out as your strained voice slowly starts to come back to you.

“Holy shit.” He repeats you in a softer, even more weak voice.

“Maybe we should forego the condoms more often.” You joke, barely even conscious at this point.

He whimpers just at the thought of it, using that 1 measly ounce of strength he has left to nod and peck you on the lips.

“I’d like that, a lot.”

[reiderwriter]

Online Shopping

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When you come across a new toy online that piques your interest, you try to convince your boyfriend that maybe he'd like to submit for a change.

Warnings: BDSM themes, Sub! Spencer, mommy kink, pegging, sex toys (dildo, butt plug etc.), Oral (M receiving), overstimulation, Spencer is messy, pet names.

A/N: Welcome to day 10 of Kinktober! This is the last of the sub Spencer fics this time around, so from here on out we only have perv Spencer or Dom Spencer. As always, the rest of the weeks fics will be posted exclusively on AO3, so check out the complete series there, or on my kinktober masterlist if you're interested!! ❤️

He was a moaning mess beneath you and you were on cloud nine. When you first started dating Spencer, you were surprised by how controlling he was in bed, and after a year of calling him sir, and having his hands around your neck, you suddenly wanted to explore just how far you could push him. 

When the toy first showed up in an ad on one of your shopping sites, you almost scrolled past it. But you thought about how much he enjoyed your tongue wandering down during your messier blow jobs, and you found yourself clicking add to basket as if in a trance, the order placed before you ever realised what it was you’d just committed to. 

A six inch long strap-on, not too thick, with a grinding pad. Perfect for first-timers, the listing said. The package came with some plugs too, prep tools for the real fun. You almost wanted to cancel the order, but it shipped so fast, you were still deliberating it before you could take it back. 

It was just unfortunate that Spencer picked up the package before you did. You were always pretty open with your packages, especially the ones you bought together on this site, so he opened it for you. When you got home, he was looking down at it, his brows knitted adorably as he tried to figure out what you could want with this. 

“Y/N, I thought you didn’t want to try this stuff?” He asked, not clocking that the dildo was actually a strap, trying to figure out what the harness was for, turning it this way and that to see if he could find an answer. 

“It’s…. Actually, it’s not for me. I was thinking we could try it all on you?” You had your answer when his dick physically twitched in his sweats, already hard from opening the package. 

You spent the next month working up to it, cleaning him up, getting him stretched out. He’d had a plug in everytime he’d cum in you for the last month, and you’d tried out some more dominating positions while you got him used to submitting, fucking yourself on his cock rather than letting him do more of the work. He’d gotten a lot of blow-jobs as you worked him up with your fingers, your tongue. He was so desperate for you, he’d practically beg for it every night. 

And now, he’d been such a good boy and finally gotten brave enough to take it. 

“Ahh, feels so good, don’t stop,” he moaned, his face pressed into the sheets as you knelt above him, gently thrusting into him. The sight was beautiful and you were so turned on. 

“Good boy, you’re behaving so well. Go ahead and touch yourself, but don’t cum, baby, don’t cum.” He moaned a response and grabbed his steel cock in his hands beginning to stroke in time to your thrusts. 

“Look at you, so perfect for me, so perfect for your mommy, right?” He let out a loud groan at the pet name, clenching his hand around himself tightly as he struggled to not cum right then and there.  

“Need to cum, mommy,” he gasped out, stroking himself again as he tried not to push over the edge. 

“Not yet, hold on just a few more minutes, you can do that, right baby?” He moaned under you, so you trailed your hand down and pulled his hand away, pulling it up and behind his back so he wouldn’t be tempted to release in his fist. You wanted him messy, after all. 

“Such a good boy, taking my girldick like this. You wanted this so badly, right? So desperate to cum on mommy’s girldick?” 

“Yes, mommy, yes, yes, yes.” He shuddered underneath you, his balls tightening as he finally let go, cumming all over the sheets below him, pulling his head up to watch it go everywhere. 

You pulled out of him gently, letting him collapse down onto the jizz stained sheets as he caught his breath. Stroking his hair, you wiped up some of the lube coating his ass, massaging it into his skin as he twitched under you, overwhelmed from his very first prostate orgasm.  “You did so good, baby, but I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I?” 

He moaned an apology, whining as you pushed him back onto his back. Discarding the strap behind you so you could get close into his dick, you pulled your hair up behind you and let your tongue fall down to the mess on his stomach. He’d fallen straight into his cum, and now he was sticky. He needed cleaning up, and it was your job as his mommy to make sure he was always nice and neat. 

You let your tongue trace his slit, his whole body shuddering under your touch as his sensitive cock was sent into overdrive. He let out a hiss and clutched at the sheets, his eyes scrunched shut. 

“Just going to clean you up, baby, you can stay still for that right?” But he couldn’t, squirming and twitching and shifting on the bed until you’d licked up the final drop of his cum. You finally let him rest, going to the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to wipe up the rest of the mess already dried into his skin. 

When you returned, he’d regained some of his composure and was sat up on the bed, grimacing down at the mess.  

“I told you to hold it in,” you laughed at him, looking at the stained sheets you’d now have to wash and change before climbing back in.  You pressed a kiss to his lips, intending it to be chaste and sweet, but he held you there by the back of your head, deepening it slightly, before pulling back and moving his lips up to your ears. 

“You’re not the only one who did some online shopping. You better be ready for the next delivery. Courier’s out now.” 

[beautifulbrainrot]

Imagine dumbification with spencer. He just feels so so good and his usually intelligent brain can’t think of anything except how good you feel. He can’t form a sentence or find the right words. Now imagine asking him a question during and punishing him for every answer he gets wrong, which is a lot

literally giggling rn i need this omfg.

also ignore how bad this is haha..

dumbification with spence >>

“okay baby, how about this - how many national parks in the US?” you questioned, rolling your hips as you asked. a whine ripped from your boys mouth at the movement and his hands grasped the crisp sheets tightly.

“i- don’t know!” he moaned out as you bounced yourself on his overstimulated cock, tears springing into his eyes as pleasure overtook him leaving him shaking and moaning as he came inside of you for the 2nd time that night.

“huh. and here i thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius.”

he whined at your words, his whine turning into a moan as you scratched down his bare chest as you came, moaning and clenching on his cock.

he almost screamed at the pleasurable pain of you clenching down on his spent cock, his next orgasm nearing.

“please! please- i need- need to cum!!” he whined desperately, barely holding off his orgasm as you spasmed on his cock.

“already? poor baby’s too fucked out to think of anything but cumming? where did that 187 IQ go?” you mocked, giggling to yourself as you came down from your orgasm, quickly continuing to bounce on him.

“yes! yes- i cant- please!! i need it!” he moaned, thrashing on the bed as you sped up your movements once again.

“okay sweet boy. you can cum.” he whined as he came, hot cum spilling into you as his cock twitched and spasmed in your core. you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up, throwing your head back in pleasure.

[sundrop-writes]

Pathetic

Sub!Spencer Reid x Switch!GN!Reader x Dom!Elle Greenaway

Summary:

Spencer needs to be punished, and as always, you and Elle are very creative with it. One of these days, he might learn to behave - but you hope that day is not anytime soon.

Dom!Elle Greenaway x Switch!Gender Neutral Reader x Sub!Spencer Reid. Established Dom/Sub Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,600

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is just straight up smut/pwp; this is a threesome/poly relationship - the characters have been in this kind of relationship for a while and they're all very comfortable with their roles; there is no mention of safewords, but it is implied that the characters are all comfortable with each other and safety nets exist in the background; Elle is dominant, Spencer is very submissive, and the reader is a switch - being dominant with Spencer and submissive towards Elle; the reader's genitals are not described in any way and the reader is gender neutral; mentions of Spencer having a humiliation kink; hair pulling (towards Spencer); mentions of Spencer being 'punished'; penetrative sex/unprotected piv sex - Spencer fucks Elle's pussy (without a condom, oops); mentions of Spencer wearing a cockring; orgasm denial/orgasm restriction (towards Spencer); light bondage - Spencer's arms being handcuffed behind his back; mentions of Spencer being spanked (does not take place during the fic); some nipple play (Spencer receiving); the reader calls Elle 'm'am' (Spencer calls her 'Miss'); at one point; Spencer is called 'pathetic' and 'a little bitch'; (so I guess degradation kink too?); the reader gives Spencer a handjob; some cumplay/cum eating; snowballing (in a kiss between the reader and Spencer; mentions of chastity belts/genital cages (not used during the fic); there is somewhat of a rivalry going on between Spencer and the reader?; the reader is kind of a brat, competing with Spencer for Elle's attention; and I believe that's it.

A/N: This could be viewed as a sequel to The Perfect Brat, or it could be viewed as taking place in the same universe as that fic - the reader character in this fic is Gender Neutral and does not have their gender described where as the reader character in that fic is female, so I wouldn't say specifically that it is a sequel - but it could be. Anyway - this is mostly inspired by my love of Spencer's slutty waist. I hope you guys enjoy it!

...

“God, he’s so pathetic.”

The words came out of Elle’s mouth as an airy chuckle, truly punctuating her thoughts on the situation. The man between her thighs was nothing but laughable - in the most pussy-wetting way. 

Naturally, Spencer let out a chest rattling moan at her comment, finding nothing but pleasure in the humiliation that she doled out. Even if he refused to admit it - it was his nature. He thrived off of being mocked and praised; punished and rewarded. 

You let out a chuckle of your own, running your fingers through his hair, a jolt going down your spine when you tugged sharply on those pretty brown locks and he let out a pretty gasp. 

Elle watched on with inquisitive eyes and swallowed up a low moan inside of her chest - controlled, composed, as she always was. 

She made a clear effort not to lose her precious composure in front of Spencer. She never needed him to think that he provided her with any kind of elite pleasure. That he could give her something that she couldn’t get from someone else. Especially not from you. He was just another tool in her belt. One that needed to be polished by her before he could be properly used. 

(He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, but he probably never would.) 

Even now, when he was balls-deep inside of her, her face remained smooth and neutral - not giving away a single flicker of the pleasure she might be feeling. Because it was all a big game, and she had to win. She was entirely demure as she stared up at him from her position, laying on her back in the middle of the bed. Technically, she was the lowest in the room, but always the one in the highest seat of control. Always the one with the most power in the room, no matter what. 

And unlike Spencer, you weren’t going to mess with the status quo of that power. 

“I think it’s almost… cute?” You remarked, knowing you sounded utterly condescending as you let out another giggle. (Especially if Spencer’s pleasurable gasp was anything to go by.) “At least he’s trying.” 

Spencer let out a choked whine, clearly humiliated and turned on by the way the two of you spoke - talking around him as though he wasn’t even there. As though he wasn’t important enough to even acknowledge. 

Spencer was currently stuck between the two of you, in a way that felt unfair yet perfectly and pleasurably melted his brain. 

With his cock speared deep inside of Elle’s warm, commanding pussy, while you stood behind him - a lingering presence that trapped him there, he knew that he had nowhere to go. Which he loved and hated at the same time. You were somehow still completely clothed - the fabric of your outfit feeling rougher against his completely naked body as his skin became overstimulated and sweaty, but he couldn’t escape you, not for a moment, while you crowded more and more into his personal space. 

“Please,” Spencer whimpered out.

Beneath him, Elle was clad in one of her signature bright red bras - overwhelming his field of vision with the sight of her perfect cleavage and her beautiful hair splayed out across the bed. And somehow, even as dewey sweat gathered on her skin, her makeup stayed perfectly in place, unsmudged and turning her into a goddess-like vision that only made him dissolve more into that pathetic puddle that you both mocked him for being. 

With your hands on Spencer’s hips - you kept shoving him forward harshly, forcing him to fuck into the unforgiving heat of Elle’s cunt while his cock panged with twinges of pain and pleasure, stuck pulsing through the aching restriction of a cockring. His arms were bound behind his back with Elle’s cuffs, his hands brushing against your front - but he wasn’t allowed to touch you, no. If he was caught copping a feel, then he knew that he punishment would be even more severe. His ass was already red and sore with the spanking that you had given him earlier. 

“Oh god, please.” He whined out again, not even sure what he was begging for - for this to stop, or for it to continue without the cockring so that he could finally cum. 

You were getting a great deal of joy out of this, a wicked grin forming on your lips that Elle loved to see. 

You loved using Spencer’s body like a puppet; having him acting like a ragdoll to your whims while you kept your hands tight on his hips, digging your nails into his flesh in a way that you knew would leave satisfying bruises there the next day. You loved nothing more than driving him forward, forcing him to fuck into Elle like he was nothing more than a toy - a human dildo to be used for her pleasure. 

With both of you standing at the end of the bed, Elle’s ass right on the edge of it, her legs spread wide to accommodate both of you; you were standing right up behind Spencer, not letting him go anywhere, not letting him move an inch to escape the overwhelming tight pleasure of her cunt. The feeling edged him so fiercely, that perfect vice gripping around his cock, with the cockring making him unable to cum. You gripped him tight and forced him to fuck forward into her, despite his whining protests and begging to have the cockring off so that he could cum. 

This was a punishment, after all. The punishment being - fucking her for longer than he could take it with no release. Feeling her hot, wet pussy around him and not being able to cum. 

“He’s not trying.” Elle argued in reply to your comment, sarcastic venom in her voice. “That’s why he’s so pathetic.” 

She reached up and tweaked one of his nipples hard, delivering a bit of pain to put emphasis on her words, and Spencer let out another whine. (Only further proving her point with how utterly pathetic he sounded.) 

“Please,” He said, begging once again. “Fuck, please, I promise I’ll be good, I-” 

“Shut up.” Elle barked at him. “Go harder.” She said, glancing around his body to look at you. 

She didn’t give this order for her own benefit. She wouldn’t enjoy the sex with any more heightened pleasure if his cock was fucking into her harder. She said this because if you forced his hips into her harder, then he would have to feel it more. It would be more punishing for him. 

“Yes, M’am.” You easily agreed, biting back a gleefully evil grin. 

You shoved his hips forward harder, in faster increments, pulling him back quickly and shoving him forward again. The results were beautiful - his thighs quaked and he let out a pained sound as he limply fell to the movements, like a ragdoll. Letting himself be fucking into Elle, rather than willingly fucking her himself. 

His cock was so painfully hard that this left little needles pricking up and down his shaft; sharp shocks of pleasure and pain flowing through him as the wetness coated him warmly and became tangled in his pubes - the most beautiful, mind-numbing torture he could have ever conceptualized. He needed a break - he wanted it to stop, but at the same time, he knew that he would cry and beg for more if his cock was pulled out of that warmth, a place his body knew as a home now. A place that he couldn’t leave. 

This was where he belonged. 

Stuck between two perfect people, ruling over him, taunting him. 

“Please!” He gasped out again. “Please!” 

You pushed Spencer forward again, hard, and his legs began to quake as Elle’s pussy squeezed him. 

“I can’t!” He shouted, his voice throaty and hollow, half choked in spit. “Fuck, I can’t!” 

“Yes, you can.” You said, shoving him forward again, loving the sound of his hips smacking against Elle’s inner thighs. “You’re just being a little bitch about it.” 

You leaned in, putting your body flush against his, trapping his arms tighter against his back. You used the motion of your own hips in tandem now, using your body weight to shove him back and forth - causing increasingly wet, sloppy sounds from between him and Elle as she became more turned on by his desperate, humiliated state. 

Elle let out a laugh. “It’s like we trained him for nothing.” 

“Maybe you trained him to bitch out.” You sighed. “That’s not my fault.” 

Elle glared at you - but before she could reply, you shoved Spencer forward again particularly hard, using him like a human dildo inside of her to shut her up. She swallowed down the gasp in her throat, though, biting her lip. She was trying her hardest not to let you know that you had gotten to her in any meaningful way. 

Spencer let out a throaty whine. 

“Please, let me cum.” He begged, his voice wavering and pathetic. “Please! I’ll do anything, just let me cum!” 

You grinned at Elle over his shoulder, pausing your movements and stilling Spencer’s hips for a moment. He let out a sob - even this was torturous pain, reminding him how his orgasm was like a sickness in his stomach. It was a pure, swollen ache in his balls - right there, but unable to come to fruition. He needed to cum so badly. 

“What do you think, E?” You asked, using your playful nickname for her. “Should we let this pathetic little boy finally cum?” 

You were feeling slightly bad for Spencer, so you reached around his body - thinking of something that might sway her. You rubbed your thumb over her clit, putting your powers of persuasion to the test. 

“I kinda wanna get him out of the way so I can have my turn.” You added on, pressing down on her clit harder. 

For the first time that night, Elle let out an uncontrolled, deep moan. 

“Fuck.” She sighed. 

You quickly let up the touch, knowing that teasing her would be more powerful. 

“I know what you’re doing.” She told you, throwing you a nasty, knowing smile. It was a warning. “Pull him out.” 

You were filled with a terrible excitement. Either she would punish you for trying to scam her, or she would give you exactly what you wanted. She was a lot more lenient with you than she was with Spencer. 

You backed off and put your hands on Spencer’s hips, easing him out of Elle’s pussy. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Miss, thank you-” Spencer repeated the words like a sacred mantra under his breath, and Elle quickly cut him off. 

“Shut up.” She barked at him again. “You won’t be thanking me in a minute.” 

This shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. 

Spencer’s cock popped out of Elle’s cunt with a filthy sound, and he only made it back far enough to graze the swollen bright red head against her entrance before she sat up on her elbows and moved to grab the cockring around the base. You watched with your gaze around his shoulder in interest, your hands drifting around his waist to hold him gently from behind. You thought that she would take it off and maybe finish him with her hand to get him out of the way as you had suggested. 

But instead, she took off the cockring (which caused a wounded sound to emanate from his chest) and left his bright red, sore looking cock dangling between his thighs as a few thick strands of precum leaked from the head, dripping freely onto the bed between her thighs. 

“You feel bad for him.” Elle told you, a dark look in her eyes. “So get to work.” 

You wanted to laugh. That certainly wouldn’t be a punishment for you. 

With your arm already slung around his waist from behind, you reached down and grabbed his sensitive, achingly hard cock - at the touch, he nearly bucked out of your grip. He cried out in perfect agony and his whole body shook. 

Perhaps the punishment would be trying to hold him still. 

Elle giggled at this and you used your free hand to dig your fingers into his hip, giving his cock a firm squeeze in an attempt to make him still. 

“Stay still.” You ground out, and he quickly complied. 

You pumped your hand up and down his cock, the precum and Elle’s wetness being more than enough lube. You did have to enjoy how perfect he felt in your hand - his cock was a thing of beauty, so long and thin and so red when he was overstimulated like this. 

Your hand was fast and tight, determined to make him cum as quickly and efficiently as possible. And it took less than thirty seconds of greedy pumping to make it happen. Spencer beginning to wail like a maniac, his jaw dropped open wide and his eyes squeezed shut, his thighs shaking. 

All the while, Elle’s eyes were flickering between the sight of your hand as a blur on Spencer’s red cock and Spencer’s orgasmic face, a devilish grin growing on her. Spencer was cumming hard, his cock spurting out generous, thick ropes of cum that landed on the bed, on Elle’s strong inner thighs, and along her bare cunt and her pelvis, where she was perfectly positioned underneath him with her legs open. 

You pumped Spencer right through it, even reaching down to fondle his balls - milking him fully of a very large load that was a signature of just how long it had been since Elle had last let him cum. That thick cum seemingly going everywhere - and when he was shaking and about ready to collapse, you finally took your hand off his cock. 

“Alright, you two.” Elle announced. “Now get down on your knees and clean up your fucking mess.” 

Of course. That was the catch. That was your punishment. You had to share with Spencer. 

You wanted to complain about it, but you decided better of it. You didn’t need a vibrating plug in your ass for the better part of tomorrow because you decided to talk back. 

Spencer, still panting and dizzy, was quick to fall to his knees in front of Elle and start lapping at her pussy. He had to balance himself well with his hands still cuffed behind his back, but as usual, he was an overeager puppy. He shoved his tongue deep inside of her to taste her, rather than intentionally trying to clean up his mess. You let out a growl of annoyance and knelt down yourself, trying to shoulder him out of the way, poking your head in tightly beside his between her legs. 

“Share, asshole.” You growled, moving to grab his hair to pull him out of the way. 

“If you two don’t behave, then there’s gonna be some cages tomorrow. No keys for a week.” Elle warned in a dark voice, clicking her tongue in disappointment. 

“You better not fuck this up for me.” Spencer whispered to you, seemingly trying to talk too quietly for Elle to hear. 

“Hey-” Elle tried again, warning. 

You then decided to do something very much in the name of sharing and behaving. (You needed to act boldly, quickly - before Spencer got you both in trouble.) 

You licked a long stripe up Elle’s thigh, gathering up a healthy amount of Spencer’s cum onto your tongue before you grabbed him by the back of his hair. You yanked hard, pulling him to your mouth, shoving your tongue right into his mouth for her to see - mixing the essence of her that was already on his tongue with his cum. You purposefully made the kiss sloppy, pure tongues and very little contact of lips, like porn made for straight men. You even moaned loudly, putting on a show just for her benefit. 

Spencer easily fell for it - moaning loudly when you pulled harder on his hair, and easily following your lead as his submissive instincts kicked in. 

“That’s much better.” Elle sighed in delight.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a standalone oneshot. This fic is not intended to be continued, so please do not ask for a second part or a continuation. If you like this dynamic and you would like to see it repeated in a different fic (maybe with different kinks/different circumstances), you can definitely let me know by sending me an ask - but for now, if you're going to comment on this fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

[ihavemanyhusbands]

my dear amada amante🤭 may i pretty please request cockwarming Reid to help him last longer in the deed😏 BUT the trick is he has to read to you outloud while you do it AND IF he dares to stop... bye bye pussy + bye bye orgasm for spencer🤭 i'm begging you pls💖 lysm

Uffff coming right up mamasita chula 🫡❤️

“—H-He knew that when… when he k-kissed this girl and…”

Spencer’s voice melted into a breathy moan in your ear. You pulled away to look at him, which made him wince a little. His features were flushed and his eyes were heavy-lidded, the look in them soft and pleading.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked sweetly. “Why’d you stop reading?”

"It's... It's hard to concentrate when y-you keep..." he trailed off once more as you moved your hips almost imperceptibly.

You sat atop him, his cock fully sheathed in your cunt. Neither of you had been moving, but your walls would involuntarily clench around him from time to time. He was particularly sensitive, which was why you'd decided to do this training in the first place.

You figured reading would help make it easier for him, but well... He was lucky you were so patient.

"Hmm, maybe you want to take a break for today?" You began to lift yourself, but one of his hands came to rest on your hip, pulling you back down.

"No, I-I can do it!" he said quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "You just feel so good is all. Too good."

You chuckled, kissing the tip of his nose. "You're so cute, baby. Don't worry, I'll make sure to reward you for being such a good boy for me."

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Don’t want to bother you again but omg, I need subby Spencer or literally fluff with Spencer our little BAU nerd 🥺

.⋆｡Breaking Rules｡⋆.

Spencer Reid x plus size reader

Spence is beyond pent up and you’re the only one who can help him

Warnings: smut, sub!Spencer, handjob, dom!reader, sex at work, having to stay quiet, season 2 spencer, begging, biting, d/s dynamic (spencer has rules he has to follow), praise, aftercare

WC: 924

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

His gaze burned into the back of your head as you worked on the pile of paperwork in front of you. You knew what he wanted and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t want it too but there was too much work to be done.

With Elle resigning and cases popping up at an increasingly exponential amount, you and the others on your team were saddled with mountains of paperwork, which unfortunately meant that you and your boyfriend haven’t had a lot of alone time together for the past few weeks.

He was quickly becoming extremely needy- humping your ass as you cooked dinner, trying to bury his head between your plump thighs as you did work in your shared home office, he even fell asleep with one of your tits in his mouth just last night. And now, he was even going so far as to break one of his rules (no sex in the office) in order to get some kind of relief.

You looked up from the case file that you had been staring at to look around the bullpen. Everyone was  buried so wholly in their work that they wouldn’t notice the absence of two of their team members. Sighing, you closed the folder in front of you and spun your chair around by only a few inches. Immediately, Spencer perked up like a little puppy waiting for a treat. With an almost imperceptible nod, you stood up and made your way to the ladies room.

Just as you slipped into the largest stall at the back of the restroom, the door swung open once more and in scrambled Spencer, red-faced and bent over as he tried to conceal the hard bulge between his legs. “Please ma'am, please I need it so bad.” He begged, pawing at your tight skirt.

You tutted. “You know the rules baby.” He whined in response, his big brown eyes, already hazy with submission, filling with tears. “But- that doesn't mean that I won’t take care of you.” 

Spencer’s knees buckled as you gently laid your palm against where he needed you most, and gave his aching cock a squeeze. “Ma’am.” He curled over on himself, burying his large nose in your hair as he pushed his thin hips into your hand. 

“You have to be quiet baby. Can you be a good boy and stay quiet for me?” With your other hand, you guided his face into the crook of your neck, muffling the soft groans that were already slipping from his lips as your touch became more firm. “Can you open your belt for me baby?” He nodded against your throat, his trembling hands fumbling with the buckle. It fell open suddenly, causing him to yelp softly as if the clink of the scratched metal scared him. Spencer’s pants sagged, exposing the top of his loose boxers which grew tighter by the second.

Your hand dove into the soft fabric, finally taking a hold of him. Spencer’s moan was as loud as a scream in your ear but it barely echoed through the small stall. He throbbed in your hand, his cock hard and angry. Precum dripped from the head onto your half-closed fist, making your palm glide along his length smoothly.

Your own arousal was almost too much, the wetness between your soft thighs growing to a level which you could not ignore but your boy needed you more than you needed relief. “You’ve been so good for me. Doing your work, following your rules. You’re such a good boy, my best boy.” He throbbed against your soft palm.

“M-ma’am.” He whimpered. You smiled against his silky hair and kissed his temple gently. Your grip tightened even further, making Spencer go boneless in your arms as he rooted against your neck. The collar of your shirt was suddenly pushed aside as he bit down on your shoulder, his eyes squeezed tightly in pleasure.

You winced at the dull ache of his bite but did not pull him off, knowing he needed it to muffle his noises and remain grounded. He bucked into you with uneven thrusts, he was chasing his end as quickly as he could, his brain too foggy to focus on anything else. “That’s it, cum for me baby. Make a mess all over my hand. So so good for me.”

The only warning you received was a particularly throaty groan against your shoulder before he exploded into your hand, his hot release gathering around your knuckles as he rode out his high. “Oh baby, that was a lot. You must have been really hurting.” He nodded pathetically, making you smile. With another kiss to his head, you released his softening cock and stepped back. “Let me clean you up baby and then you can go back to your desk.”

He stood perfectly still as you whipped away the evidence of your small romp, throwing the used tissue into the toilet after you cleaned up your hand. You pulled up his slacks and redid the belt for him, tucking his shirt neatly back into place once you were done. The flush on his cheeks had begun to fade as his lips met yours in a gentle peck filled with love. 

“Thank you.” He muttered against your lips before pulling away and walking out of the bathroom, albeit a lot more sluggish than when he walked in. 

You quickly cleaned between your thighs and followed after him, suddenly a lot more motivated to finish up your work.

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[sunflowerreid]

Please let me help - S.R

Spencer gets caught in a rather compromising position

Warnings : Masturbation, use of sex toys, Sub spencer

After a long, draining day at work you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up into your safe space, your gorgeous boyfriend. Spencer was waiting at home for you, presumably hiding in corner with his nose buried in his fiftieth book of the day, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. Leaving him earlier in the morning was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, he looked adorable nuzzled into your chest, his heartbeat gently caressing your side as you slowly traced your hand up and down his back in a calming manor, you never wanted to leave the bed. But the screeching sound of your alarm clock startled Spencer awake and burst the bubble of tranquility, forcing you to pull yourself out of the comfort of your bed. Eight hours was way too long away from Spencer, you’d received a few messages from him that you’d eagerly answered throughout the day but you missed him, you needed to see that beautiful smile of his. You climbed into your car, beginning the fifteen minute journey back home, ready to see your eager boy.

As you arrived through the front door expecting to see Spencer perched on the end of the sofa ready to jump back in your arms, you were met with an empty living room. You knew he was in, his mismatched converse were thrown at the door in their usual position. The apartment was silent, creepily silent, making you think he may of gone out wearing a different pair of shoes, unlikely but possible. The longer you stood there the more thoughts flooded into your head, had he left without telling you? Had something happened? Had he been kidnapped by an unsub?, questions continued to plague your mind, the worst coming to mind until a sound ripped through the silence.

The sound came from the other side of the apartment. You slowly made your way across the carpeted floor, preparing yourself for the worst as a low groan came from behind the door of your bedroom, thinking Spencer might of been hurt you quickly opened the door. You were met with the one of the most surprising but sexiest sights you have ever witnessed. Your gorgeous boyfriend was clinging onto your pillow for dear life, his hips humping up into the pile of pillows under them, your pillow muffled his moans, his face pushed down into it as he desperately fucked what you thought were two pillows pushed on top of each other. Listening in closer as he began humping erratically, moans getting louder, you could hear a squishing wet noise every time his hips moved. His voice pulled you out of your trance, “Fuck y/n, right there please so close, please” he whimpered as his hips moved faster.

“Couldn’t wait for me sweetheart?” You said as you made your way over to the bed. Spencer jumped up, his face turned the same same colour as the tip of his erection as he faced you, surprised and clearly very embarrassed. “Aw no need to be embarrassed sweetie want me to help?” you said gently as you reached the bed, tucking his hair behind his ears as he looked up at you nodding, his eyes begging you to do something, anything.

“M’sorry needed you couldn’t wait please” he whispered, his forehead was pressed against yours as you, his hand grabbing at your hips as you kissed him, hands gripping into his hair as you lowered him down onto his back, straddling his thighs while avoiding his leaking erection, throbbing for your attention when something caught your eye. Wedged between the two pillows was Spencer’s fleshlight, the same one you’d bought for him as a gag gift last Christmas. His eyes were shut tight as you continued your movements before sliding your hand across the bed to retrieve the fleshlight. Your gorgeous boy was still whimpering underneath you as you began slowly grinding down onto him, “Fucckkk please, please need it please” he begged, his hands death gripping onto your hips and you kissed down his neck. You continued your torture before bringing the fleshlight down his body and engulfing his swollen tip into the toy, “OH FUCKK” he moaned loudly as his entire body twitched thrusting up into his toy. Taking pity on him you moved the fleshlight further down, sucking down his entire erection. “Please y/n please can’t take it anymore need to cum please hurts” he mumbled, eyes tearing over. His erection throbbed within the toy as you began moving it rhythmically up and down, from base to tip “Fuck yes” Spencer moaned as you continued, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and his hips humped up into the toy following your hand. “Gonna cum so close please” he whined as you sped up, precum flowing from his tip as it peeked out from the top of the toy “God fuck!” He shouted his entire body twitching as his back arched, toes curled and spurts of cum trickled out of his tip “Fuck I love you” he whispered as he came down relaxing into the bed. “I love you too sweetheart” you said softly, stroking his hair as his eyes began to shut.