warnings. explicit sexual content, 18+ only, light bondage (tie used as restraint), overstimulation, edging/denial, oral sex (receiving), semi-public/office setting.
word count. ~1k
summary.
With the rest of the BAU gone for the evening, an innocent late-night study session in Spencer’s office shifts when he decides to take control, testing just how quiet you can stay while pinned against his desk.
The floor was dark, save for the ambient glow of the fluorescent lights casting soft grid patterns across the empty glass partitions. It was nearly one in the morning. Hotch and Rossi had left hours ago, and the rest of the team had scattered to their apartments after a brutal three-day turnaround in Chicago.
You were sitting on the edge of Spencer’s desk, half-heartedly flipping through a stack of old case files, when you felt his presence shift behind you.
"You're not reading anymore," Spencer said softly.
He stepped around the side of his desk, but instead of packing his satchel, he reached behind himself and clicked the heavy wooden door shut. The subtle thud echoed in the quiet room. Before you could turn around, he reached up, pulled down the blinds over the interior window, and locked the handle.
Your chest tightened, a familiar spark of heat curling low in your belly. "Spencer?"
"You've been fidgeting all evening," he murmured, stepping right into your space. His hand rested on your knee, his thumb stroking through the fabric of your trousers. "Adjusting your collar, crossing your legs... you haven't processed a word on those pages for the last forty minutes."
"I'm tired," you lied softly, your breath hitching as his fingers slid higher up your thigh.
"No," Spencer corrected, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're distracted. And you're craving my attention."
Without breaking eye contact, Spencer reached up to his neck, unknotting his dark silk tie with slow, practiced movements. He pulled it free from beneath his collar, smoothing the fabric between his long fingers.
"Turn around," he instructed, his voice dropping an octave into that low, quiet tone he reserved only for when he took control behind closed doors. "Hands behind your back."
Your heart hammered against your ribs. "Spencer, someone could come back- "
"They won't," he cut in gently, though the authority in his tone was unyielding. "And if they do, you'll just have to stay very, very quiet. Won't you?"
You swallowed hard, turning on the edge of the mahogany desk and placing your hands behind your lower back. Spencer stepped up close behind you, his warm chest pressing lightly against your shoulder blades as he pulled your wrists together. He wrapped the soft silk tie firmly around your wrists, looping it twice and knotting it securely, tight enough to hold you fast, but gentle enough not to bite.
"Good girl," he whispered against your ear, the hot puff of his breath making you shiver. "Keep your hands right there."
He leaned forward, unbuttoning your trousers and pulling them down your legs along with your underwear, letting them pool around your ankles. You gasped as the cool air of the office hit your bare skin, but before you could process it, Spencer’s hands were on your thighs, spreading your legs wide over the edge of his desk.
He dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands gripping the wood on either side of your hips to lock you in place.
"Spencer..." you whined, your head falling back against the stack of folders behind you.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
You forced your hazy gaze down to meet his. He looked up at you from his knees, his messy dark hair falling slightly over his forehead, glasses perched neatly on his nose. The contrast between his sharp intellect and his quiet dominance made your core ache with slick, heavy warmth.
"You're already so wet for me," he observed, his index finger tracing the damp seam of your slit before dipping inside just enough to test your slickness. "All from just sitting across from me all night?"
"Yes," you whimpered, trying to shift your hips closer, but the tie bound tightly around your wrists kept you anchored.
"Stay still," Spencer instructed, his hand flattening against your lower belly to hold you down. "If you make too much noise, we stop."
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before his tongue made direct, wet contact with your swollen clit.
A loud gasp escaped your lips, and Spencer immediately paused, his thumbs digging firmly into your hips. "Ah-ah. What did I say about noise?"
"Sorry," you whispered frantically, biting your bottom lip as tears of sweet frustration pricked the corners of your eyes. "I'm sorry, Spencer- "
"Bite your lip, sweet girl," he murmured approvingly, his tongue resuming its work.
He didn't rush. Spencer treated your body like a puzzle he had already solved a hundred times over. He used long, slow, flat licks that drew desperate hitches from your throat, swirling his tongue right over your most sensitive point before dragging his mouth down to suck your wetness deep into his mouth.
Your wrists tugged uselessly against the silk tie behind you as the pleasure built at an alarming speed. Every time you felt yourself hovering on the edge of a peak, Spencer would back off, sucking gently at your inner thigh until your breath leveled out, only to dive right back in.
"Spencer, please," you begged under your breath, your knuckles white behind your back. "Please, I can't- I'm right there- "
He slid two fingers deep inside you, pumping them in a steady, firm rhythm while his thumb pressed flat against your clit.
"Come for me," Spencer growled against your core, his quiet restraint finally cracking into raw, desperate heat. "Do it softly."
That was all it took. The combination of his fingers stretching you, his tongue teasing your center, and the constant fear of anyone walking down the hall snapped your control entirely. You arched your back off the desk, a muffled scream caught behind your teeth as your orgasm tore through you in violent, shaking waves.
Your inner walls clamped down tight around his fingers, and Spencer groaned against your skin, catching every drop of your slick release with his tongue until you were trembling and completely spent.
He slowly stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked down at your flushed, breathless form resting against his desk. His hazel eyes were dark with pride.
Spencer leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead before moving behind you to untie his silk tie from your wrists.
He gently rubbed your restored, warm skin, bringing your hands around to rest against his chest.
"See?" Spencer whispered into your ear, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you leaned into his heat. "I told you you could be good for me."
anakin skywalker fluffy hcs bc i tried putting this into a fic n wasn't liking anything i was drafting so here's this
ANAKIN SKYWALKER who comes back from missions and needs to be in your comfort, in bed with you, around you, wherever it may be, he wants to be with you. you're his grounding source, the reason he can keep his mind at ease in between these trips, giving him something neutral to think about when he gets upset.
if its late when he arrives back, he's quiet coming to you, but he needs to be with you. he sleeps better with you, your warmth comforts him. his body immediately relaxes when you snuggle against him.
"ani, it's late." you murmur softly, your voice thick with sleep.
"i know baby, m'sorry. just needed to see you. you can go back to sleep." he strokes your hair, enjoying the noises of contentment you make before falling asleep once more.
he will spend all morning in bed with you if he can. he never wants to give up the time where you're the most affectionate with him, pulling him back to you each time he does attempt to get up. he'll rub circles on your back or play with your hair until you do fully wake up, smiling at him as he dotes on you.
"don't get up yet." your arm reaches out as anakin is halfway out of the bed, your hand grabbing for him.
"i have to get ready, i have training soon." his face contorts, because maybe just a few more minutes...
you whimper.
he can lose a few minutes, he thinks, and crawls back against you.
at nights, you two will do your separate activities but together. anakin adjusting and fixing some mechanical project, while you lay your head on his thighs and read a book. quiet time but always together, something anakin loved. he liked your prescence around him, even if it was as generic as being invested in a book.
"what's happening in your book now baby?" anakin asks, while adjusting a screw.
"the warlock just told her he loves her." you sigh, with a smile on your face.
"is that an analogy?"
you giggle, making his face light up. "no ani! buuuut..." you look up at him with a grin and he shakes his head at you.
tags: MDNI smut, fem!reader, piv (from da backkk), oral (m!receiving), cute sickening stuff, porn little plot (i wish there was more plot tbh)
a/n: what is up siriuslylantsov nation. long time no see… i'm not entirely sure if i like this but i haven't posted in ages and wanted to do something. im also rewatching cm rn so spencers being extra annoying on da brain. this is genuinely from last april but i rewrote most of it so its new #ToMe anywhoooo lmk how you like it and happy reading!!
wc: 2.7k
you’ve never seen him this well rested before. spencer reid devoid of the perpetual dark circles that reside under his eyes, it's a wonder. especially because you slept so late last night. you’ve never had an excuse to let your eyes linger on his features for longer than deemed necessary. but now. you can see him so much better in the morning light, the low curve of his nose, the timid purse of his lips. he's beautiful.
you allow a little pride to bloom under your chin at the thought of you putting spencer to ease and take it as the universe's sign to tuck yourself over his heart. his chest under your cheek is warm, the kind that makes you want to press closer and stay there, wrap your arms around tighter and squeeze. spencer moves before you have the chance.
first, a startled register of his environment and then, a confused glance at the very naked girl draped over his body. his arms come up, hovering, sputtering, and then politely putting his palms over your shoulders. nudging you to look up at him.
jesus christ, those eyes.
“hi.”
so quiet. “hey, handsome.”
he lets out a long, contemplative sigh, thinking, thinking, thinking. when does this guy ever stop thinking? “we kissed,” he says it like a fact, but with questioning lilt that makes it sound otherwise.
you prop an elbow on the bed, joint wedged into the space above his shoulder so you can see him better. the blanket keeping you decent slips a bit and spencer unconsciously tucks it more securely under your arm. you catalogue that for later.
“we did a lot more than that. forgive me for being untoward but we fucked,” you clarify, innocent with your chin in the heel of your palm.
spencer groans, he groans! “don't be crude.”
“we're naked.”
“i know that,” he murmurs, disgruntled, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your jaw and falling back into the pillow. you sport an amused little smile when you see the pout on his lips.
you slept with spencer reid.
your coworker, your friend, the man you’d been terribly smitten with for who knows how long (7 months and 3 days.)
spencer reid who lingered by your side for hours last night, unassuming, unbothered, who smiled softly at your wine induced flush whenever he’d lean in to hear you better, who sat with you while you tipped your chin up at the sky to point out stars and asked him to name them, who pressed a sobering kiss to your lips in rossi's backyard after a clumsily delivered compliment.
you’re so pretty.
your response is a blur, forgotten, but you do remember how he drove you home with his hand idly playing with your fingers over the center console. how he tried but inevitably failed to be a gentleman as you led him up to your apartment, shared, hushed giggles echoing down the hallway and quite gracefully falling into bed leaving a very telling breadcrumb trail of clothes.
and now, half a second of thought passes on whether you should ask him or surprise him. the latter wins and you dip down and kiss the corner of his mouth. you’re not evil, he deserves some warning before you really plant one on him. he wastes no time, bringing his lips to yours with those big hands cradling your face.
his lips press against yours gingerly in a sweet, lingering kiss, followed by another and another. mouth slotted over yours, like perfect puzzle pieces, his tongue traces the seam of your lips and you grant him entrance, letting him gently lick into your mouth. you let out a small, needy sound at the warmth of his tongue against yours, melting into him. it makes him chuckle quietly.
“spence,” you gasp against his lips.
a subtle shudder makes its way down his spine at the desperation in your voice, the same need slowly fogging up his own brain, remnants of last night catching up.
“i know, angel,” he cups your neck, what is happening?
“can i admit something?”
spencer smiles at you, boyish and stupid spread across his face, “please do.”
“you kiss nice, had i known you were this good of a kisser i would’ve done it ages ago,” you mumble, forcing words out to keep a sliver of your dignity.
he laughs again, a small pleased sound that makes you feel good. “you do too. you are wildly better than anything i have ever imagined–”
“you’ve imagined me?” you turn timid in a way that you hate but spencer kisses you and it melts away.
“of course i have. you’re wonderful.”
spencer pulls your leg over his and sits the two of you up, thighs bracketing his hips. the blanket falls unabashedly into the space between your bodies, pooled dangerously low over his lap. you thank whatever god there is for the enticing view of the scattering of light hair that trails beneath the covers.
you’re surprised with the ease in which spencer's hands drag down your sides, like he's done it a million times before. he pushes the pads of his thumbs into the area above your hipbone like he knows you’ll twitch when he does, and you do. damn his eidetic memory and damn his perfect mouth when he attaches his lips to your jaw, angling you as he lightly works the skin. he's careful enough not to leave a mark somewhere visible but it doesn't stop him from reminding himself he can do it elsewhere, somewhere more concealed.
“pretty girl,” he coos, kissing over your pulse point, below your ear, “lay back, please.” please. he murmurs against your skin, nodding behind you. he pecks your cheek, rather sweetly considering your state of undress and swiftly returns to your neck like he can’t believe he pulled away.
now wait.
you forget about your own hands through all of this, hanging limply over his right shoulder and heavy by your side. you thread your fingers into his hair and path something more devious for the other. spencer jolts when your fingertips graze over his cock, you’d think he’d expect it but he reacts like it's completely sudden. it scares you momentarily, were you too forward? but then he looks at you with something beggy and glazed over in his eyes and it motivates you to ease the shelter of the blanket fully off, baring him.
spencer pinks, tips of his ears to the top of his chest. you inch off his lap and sit in front of him. you watch the features in his face twist into realisation and cut him off before he can say something polite, "i wanna taste you, spence.”
you’ve stunned spencer reid. for the first time in his fucking life he doesn’t know what to say. so he pushes out a, “yeah? fuck, okay. yeah.” an embarrassing stutter of words but it's enough to reassure you.
a firm finger pokes him square in the chest, not so hard that it hurts but enough to have him lean back against the headboard. he follows dutifully, letting the pillows take him, allowing him some semblance of solid ground beneath him. because he's convinced he might pass out at the sight of you settling between his outstretched legs, looking sinfully unaware of just how much you affect him.
although the effect itself becomes glaringly obvious when his cock twitches, two pairs of eyes darting down immediately. you can't tell if he's bigger than what you remember from last night, but you do know that you want him in your mouth immediately.
your head dips down, a slow hand curling around the base of his length, guiding it to your lips. the head, flushed and red, meets soft and plush, a light kiss against him. and spencer thinks he might die. your lips part, taking the tip into your mouth, tongue laving against his slit. your eyes flutter shut when a bead of precum settles over your tastebuds, slightly salty. you glide down, the weight of him in your mouth is deliriously good.
at some point between drawing back and swirling your tongue around his tip, spencer tangles his hands in your hair. fingertips soft over your scalp, he doesn't push, just holds you. your head bobs down again, forming a steady rhythm. your eyes start to water when he nudges at the back of your throat, breath faltering as the hair low on his stomach begins to tickle your nose. he immediately pulls you off with a gentle hand fixed to your jaw.
“you don’t have to do it all.” the concern in his eyes is sickening as he wipes off the saliva smeared to the corner of your mouth. you smile at him, a little sheepish, tilting into his palm. “i know.”
you press a kiss to his wrist and return to the task at hand, cock standing proud over his abdomen and possibly redder than when you left it. you lean down, letting a little dribble of spit fall from your lips to his length. decidedly, you wrap your fingers around him, letting the saliva act as a lubricant. you press a thumb to a vein running along the side of his cock, tracing it with every up and down of your hand. he lets out a shuddering exhale in response.
you hope the look you give him is sultry at best, you don't know that his vision is starting to blur at the corners when your head dips down again. only to mouth at the tip this time, a sloppy makeout around the flushed head as your hand continues to work at the rest of him.
“god, angel. you’re so-” he cuts himself off with a moan when your wrist twists. “so good at that.”
you let the words get to your head, a burning heat that creeps up your neck. emboldened, you take more of him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you go. spencer can't help the way his hips buck up and you almost gag again. you pull off with a breathless giggle, wiping your mouth while spencer regards you with that same sickening concern, except now there's guilt in his comforting touch when he inspects your face. he doesn’t find this funny at all.
you hold his wrist as you laugh again and put on your most reassuring voice, "i'm okay.”
a skeptical purse of his lips. you gravitate forward, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “i promise,” you whisper, followed by a nip at his skin. it elicits a gasped sound from the depths of his chest.
he pulls you into a kiss, relishing in the ever so slight taste of him on your lips as he turns the two of you around, you let him lay you down this time. the moment feels kismet when his fingers trail lower. one hand keeping him propped up and the other parting your folds. you're unbelievably wet, the lingering effects of last night and spencer on your tongue leaving you as much.
“oh, spencer.” your hips rise to his touch when he dips a finger into your entrance and he's immediately determined to make you say his name like that again. the way you gush around him as his finger curls up allows him to add another one to the mix. you think he’s ruined you forever with how fast the peak builds, a heavy, honey-like pressure pushing down on your stomach as his fingers move, relentless between your thighs. you stop him before he can put his thumb to your clit with an urgent gasp, knowing that if you come now you won’t be able to keep going, “fuck me.” swallow, “please.”
spencer pulls his fingers out, kissing your chin when your head tips back at the emptiness. he can't help the tug at the corner of his lips, eyes possibly filled with too much affection when your thighs give a needy squeeze around his hips. “i got you,” he whispers, pulling you closer with two firm hands at your hips.
he pushes in, and it's an easy fit, you’ve been ready for what feels like forever. but where he lacks in overwhelming thickness he makes up for in length so it truly just keeps going. your hands brace at his side when he finally bottoms out. “i swear you weren’t this big,” you huff against his shoulder, almost exasperated.
spencer laughs, though it skirts the edge of something aching, “ha-ah, you’re boosting my ego, sweetheart.”
“good,” you hum, eyebrows pinching when he begins to move. your walls flutter around him, adjusting, you don’t know how you took it last night without his rearranging you from the inside out. “you’re so- feels so good, spence.”
he whines into your neck, the speed of his hips increasing with every subsequent clench around his cock, he doesn’t know if he can handle this much praise. lewd noises fill the room, moans and flush inducing wet squelches echoing off the walls and forming into something tangible between your bodies. it's not enough, something's missing, you need him even closer.
“baby, wait. flip me over.”
baby.
he hesitates before turning your body under his. upon re-entering you, it all clicks into place. you melt in satisfaction, cheek smushed against the pillow with your mouth stupidly hanging open. he gives an experimental roll of his hips, slow and deliberate, hitting places you never deemed possible.
“there?” he asks when you simultaneously mumble an incoherent y-uhuh, there, he lays over you and starts fucking you into the sheets.
his chest molds perfectly to your back, head fitted somewhere between your shoulders with his lips attached to the nape of your neck. he murmurs things, things you can't possibly comprehend with how deep he is, you swear you could feel him in your throat. your hips push back, meeting his thrusts with every persistent plap. sweat blooms. a light sheen everywhere your skin touches him, you feel warm all over. you feel him all over. spencer. spencer. spencer.
spencer snakes a hand under your body with an unwitting amount of familiarity when he starts rubbing circles into your clit
you feel it again, pulsing, a pleasant ringing in your ears that drowns everything out except his voice. “gonna cum for me again? huh, angel? just like last night?” quiet encouragement, awe, tinged with a bit of condescension, it sends sparks down your spine, setting off fireworks between your legs.
your head tips over to his arm, where it's planted beside you on the pillow, to sink teeth into flesh. canines dig into muscle, and if you were any more coherent, you would’ve drawn blood. your scream muffles against him, legs twitching out and shaking under his body, spencer blankets you with a heavy grounding pressure as your orgasm crests. his lips press to your cheek when you look over your shoulder at him, eyebrows imploringly upturned, he follows right after you and he is beautiful.
he slumps, heavy. but the good kind. you welcome the pressure and the closeness for a minute while your breathing evens out. in and out.
“i need to pee, reid."
“oh please, don't call me that when i'm still inside you.”
you laugh into the pillow, shoulders shaking while he pulls out. funny boy. you pull a shirt over your head and watch as spencer stumbles trying to put on his underwear. he trails behind you quietly as you walk into the attached bathroom and pretend to ignore the pout he tries to hide when you close the door.
you feel a little stupid talking to him from the toilet but it makes it somewhat easier to ask him. “can we do this again?” your voice muffles through the wood.
he squeaks something panicked, “i don’t know if i can–”
you push an amused smile into your knuckles, “not now, spencer. at some point, in the near future.”
“yeah?” he asks, sickeningly hopeful. “would you let me take you to dinner first? preferably not at rossi’s house?”
spencer hears the flush and then the door clicks open. you have your hands joined behind your back, he takes a step forward.
“i’d really like that.”
you’ve got an expression on your face that doesn’t warrant a confirmation, still, spencer asks. “yeah?”
you lean forward and kiss him, a few seconds too long. “it’s a date.”
i feel so miserable and mouldy and then this came through my dash and suddenly everything is all perfect and better oh my goodness Alisha I missed ur fics this is so hot and tender!!!!
really need to start looking over my works b4 i post them i happen to glance over them once they've been up for like 6 hours and notice 10 grammatical errors and i've repeated a word like 5 times in one run on sentence
HAYDEN CHRISTENSENVERSE: YOUR FIRST TIME HEADCANONS
18+mdni
anakin skywalker: you hadn't wanted to tell him at first. he found out anyways, when you were getty handsy one night, anakin about to push it further but you seemed hesitant. not because you didn't want to- because of course you did! but you were nervous because he seemed like he knew what to do and you didn't... and of course, despite all that, he handles you like you're made of glass as he makes love to you. his usual calloused demeanor is softened to nothing, something you choose to focus on despite the pain in your core, the pinching that spikes and relieves itself.
sam monroe: brushes it off when you tell him it's your first time- already wide open in front of him. just something you had to slip in last minute, because you figured if you didn't mention it then- something would go wrong and he would bitch at you for not telling him sooner. he goes as slow as he possibly can, excruciatingly so, but letting you get adjusted to a new feeling. selfishly, he's glad he's the one to take your virginity but he won't say it out loud because it carries too much emotion. he'll clean you up after, sloppily soaping up your sore body, silently admiring your rosy cheeks and your puffy clit, swollen with sensitivity.
james kelly: makes a joke about it at first, says some bullshit about how you were saving yourself for him. which, he's kinda serious about- he hopes that's the case. he talks you through it- sweet pet names, cooing at you as you take him deeper, telling you you're "a good girl". all just to take him that much easier, because you've never been more turned on in your life. he forces you to look at him the whole time, something about needing you to watch him take you. him, also, leaving out the part where he likes watching your pupils continuously dialate, leaving almost nothing left in your eyes.
stephen glass: please. it's his first time, not yours.
clay beresford: he spends ridiculously long on foreplay- not to an excruciating point, only because he knows exactly what he's doing. languid swipes at your nipples with his tongue as his thumbs ran over them in between licks. or kissing your erogenous zones, spending more time on them. sucking, kissing, simply breathing over them. by the time he gets to actually working your cunt, you're a dripping mess, ready for him to break you. and even then he won't, because clay is a gentle man, and the thought of even trying to be rough with you during your first time would horrify him. he just wants to make sure you get the experience you deserve, especially for your first.
will beeman: almost takes his time teaching you as if you're in sex education, but for some reason, you find it incredibly arousing. you guess it's because he's older, he just assumes you don't know why he's doing what he is or what the meaning of him staying pressed deep against your cervix is- although you do. just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you're ignorant to any of that- but you won't explain that to him as he's bottomed out inside you, a hand on your lower abdomen, telling you you're wet enough now, you'll be able to take him easier and it won't feel as bad!
warnings: masturbation (m) guided by reader over the phone, themes of jealousy, mild dirty talk, soft dom!reader, sub!spencer
based on this request
spencer had been acting weird all week.
that was the first thing you noticed, besides, of course, the incessant texting. you were at home, visiting a family friend. your trip was taking up the course of the week, but you would be home by the end of it, which is what you assured spencer when he had furrowed his eyebrows at the mention of you leaving. he didn't seem to fond of the idea of you staying with your family friend- a male- but you also soothed him, telling him you saw him as a brother and it's only because your parents were getting their house renovated.
despite spencer nodding along and looking past it then, you aren't sure if it really settled him. he never really blew up your phone or bothered you too much if you weren't responding. just like him, he understood if you happened to be busy or not on your phone.
this time, though, he seemed to have forgotten that imaginary rule. it's as if serial killers disappeared this week and the bau didn't have a single file to be working on. you had a flight home tomorrow evening, but you figured you would call spencer later that night and figure out what's been eating at him. especially as you look at your phone now, eyeing the "miss you text when possible" message that followed the "love you". it was as if...
as if he didn't want you to forget about him while you were with someone else.
the wheels clicked, it had taken you all week to realize this was the meaning, and you rolled your eyes. of course it was. you sighed, weighing the options of either calling him now to acknowledge it or still waiting it out. as your finger hovered his contact, your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you had a thought that overrode the other two, making you wait until the sun sank beyond the horizon, late into the night.
you stretched out onto the bed, phone to your ear, as the line rang. it was late, sure. but you knew, very obviously, he wouldn't mind. after a couple of trills through the phone, he answers, his voice raspy from sleep.
"sweetheart?" despite tired, he's affectionate- more so than usual.
"hi spence." you keep your voice as neutral as possible, without giving him any leads as to what your motive was.
"is everything okay? why are you calling so late?" you hear shifting, you assume he's sitting up in bed, moving to putting on his glasses.
"oh i'm okay. i'm just kinda bored. i dunno." you twirl a strand of hair around your finger, running your tongue along your teeth. "if you're tired i can always just go talk to someone else in the house. i think i heard someone else moving about."
"no! no. i mean, i can talk." he almost yelps into the phone, before covering his tone up with a cough.
you fake a heavy exhale, hoping it conveyed the emotion you needed. "good, i was just, you know... missing you a little bit..."
"well you come home tomorrow!" you can hear the smile behind his voice, such a sweet innocent mind. and needy, apparently.
you make a fake whimper into the phone. "yeah, but... you'd been texting me so often spence, and all i can think about is you. and i'd really been trying not to... but i need a little something before i go to sleep."
there's a pause on the opposite end. "you... you want me to help you orgasm?"
"i think i wanna hear you."
"o-okay. yeah. i can do that." there's shifting, movement again, you're sure he's setting himself up to be tortured by you- unbeknownst to him.
"do you want me to touch myself?" he sounds lost, being by himself and not having you to physically guide him.
how sweet.
you hum, nodding as you affirm his question. "spit on it baby, start real slow."
spencer lets out a low whimper as he does as you say. "you weren't... weren't gonna do this with the guy you're staying with right? if i couldn't talk?"
there it was. "hmm. is that what all this texting has been about spencer? you're jealous?"
"n-no, i just-" a muffled groan, then a pause. "- didn't want him to take advantage of you?" it comes out as a question because he's lying. you know it and he knows it.
"well now spencer," you purr, "you know liars don't get what they want, right?"
his breath catches, something that's quiet but you can hear the small hiccup over the phone. you're tuned into his quiet noises, something someone wouldn't pay attention to, but knowing spencer, you've dissected them all.
"m'not lying." he's mumbling. if you strain, you can hear him stroking himself like you asked, making your own core tingle.
"how about you think about the last time you were inside me baby?" you feel like a serpent, the words rolling of your forked tongue, knowing you're simply leading him into a trap. "just fuck yourself like you would if you were inside me, yeah?"
he releases a guttural moan over the phone, one that has you tracing your own underwear outline, debating if you could hold back your own breathless gasps when trying to talk to him. in a perfect world, he would hear it all. in this world, where spencer played obsessive jealous boyfriend in silence, he doesn't get to hear any of it.
"how's it feel spencer?"
"so good. so, so good. i miss you so much. i want to be inside you." he sounds pathetic, words tumbling out as if his mouth was in control instead of his brain.
a knowing 'mhm' leaves your mouth, as the wet sounds of spencers cock flood your ears, the vision close to intoxicating.
"i'm gonna cum, i-" he cuts off as his breathing increases.
"spencer. stop."
"what?" he doesn't sound like he understands it as an order, nor was he confused. the lust, the sexual drive was clouding his brain. it was an automated response to a confusing statement, but not one he registered.
"i said stop. stop touching yourself."
"what? i'm just about to-"
"liars don't get what they want. neither do jealous boyfriends." your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with honey, but the words behind it are menacing, and going to bring him to his knees.
"angel, really, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to! i'll be better next time, i swear. please just let me finish."
"we can finish when i'm home."
he splutters. "that's not until tomorrow! you can't just leave me like this? what if i cum when you get off the phone? you wouldn't know."
while true, spencer gets off on the control you hold over him in situations like these. "you wouldn't. and i know it. you want to be praised when i get back don't you? for listening to me, right? it'll all make up for what you did this week." you coo at him, only imagining his cock twitching at your words, making his pain even worse.
he mutters a pitiful yes, followed by a deep sigh.
"good boy. i'll see you tomorrow evening spence. i love you."
"i love you too." his voice is gravel, most likely finding anything else to concentrate on right now but you.
you, on the other hand, have no rule set to be following from your significant other. and you had to fix this throbbing in your core somehow from thinking about spencer by himself in your bedroom.
jealous phone sex...jealous phone sex with dr spencer fucking reid........heaar me out. hear my hormonally induced thoughts out.....its the devil lettuce fault...
-🧪
WAIT YES
YES!
YESSSS. A thousand fucking times yes omfg. Not even a hear me out this is insanely good. Now i gotta decide who’s jealous.
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