The concert was AMAZING!!! They all looked so good! I finally saw them in person! I can't believe I saw my boy Dojoon(Leo) on stage and in person! I'M LITERALLY SCREAMING!!! 😩🖤❤️
Had such a fun time! Hopefully, I can see them again next year!😁
Bobby is jealous of Buck flirting with the newest recruit.
Fluffy/ small smut 18+
The team had sat down for dinner prepared by Bobby (aka Gordon Ramsey of the firehouse) it was pasta night. Everyone was having conversations amongst themselves, mostly picking fun at Buckaroos failed relationships.
“How long did this one last Buck?” Sniggered Chimney playfully.
“A few weeks, but hey at least I’m not back to just sleeping around!” He replied confidently, he truly was becoming a better version of himself.
“Though if the opportunity ever presented itself, Y/n I’m opened to it.” He winked towards the young woman sitting beside him, he had a small crush on her since she had her introduction day a few months ago.
“In your dreams , Buckley.” She muttered, shoving his shoulder slightly. Y/n couldn’t help but notice that Bobby had been glaring at the pair, his eyes were filled with what looked like slight fury. His stare broke when Y/n sent a small smile in his direction, he returned the smile before looking back at his plate.
“Buck isn’t your type Y/n?” Hen questioned, making Y/n shake her head in return.
“Nope! I like men not immature boys.” Y/n joked, the table interrupted with a course of “ohhhs”
“What a burn, you don’t have a chance Buck.” Eddie chuckled causing Buck to frown and pick at his food. They finished up their dinner, most of the team cleared away leaving Bobby and Y/n. The captain grabbed the dishes and brought them over to the sink, rolling up his uniform sleeves to his elbows so he wouldn’t get them wet before turning on the faucet.
“Always thought who ever cooked got out of doing dishes.” Y/n mentioned amused at the sight of the man. She moved from her spot at the table to stand close to him, grabbing a dish cloth to help with drying.
“I don’t mind, i find it therapeutic.” Bobby admitted with a shrug.
“You would make an amazing housewife Bobby.” Shouted chimney as he walked on past.
They got into a quick routine, Bobby handing her clean dishes to dry and store them away. “It was nice to see Buckley lost for words, sometimes he finds it hard to know when to stop.” Bobby said through gritted teeth, his forehead creasing.
“No harm done, I know he’s only kidding- anyways I think he has got the hint that I am not interested.”
“Good.” Muttered Bobby beside her, causing her to look confused at his tone.
“What is wrong?” She asked, growing intrigued in what had annoyed him so much.
“Nothing, just don’t want any of my team being harassed.” He utters, this answer didn’t please Y/n.
“You know he wasn’t harassing me, so what is it Bobby? I seen the way you were staring at us durning dinner, you looked angry!” She paused glancing up at his face which looked unreadable.
“I was feeling jealous.” He uttered, almost too quietly like he was embarrassed.
“Why?”
Bobby finished at the sink, turning around to face Y/n. He could see the confusion in her eyes that were staring wildly into his own.
“Because, i feel the same way he does. Every time i look at you i have these feelings that I struggle to push away. I admire you and i didn’t want to cross any lines. I’m your boss, Y/n.” He admitted almost shamefully.
She gasped at his confession feeling lost for words, Y/n had no idea Bobby was interested in her. It never crossed her mind on why he was so stoic when the other boys flirted with her.
“I never knew you felt like that Bobby.”
She stepped forward, placing a comforting hand onto his arm.
“You could’ve told me.” She added.
He shook his head. “I never stood a chance.”
This made her frown shaking her head.
“How? Because I’m closer to Buck and Eddie’s age? I mentioned I wanted a man Bobby. Someone with experience.” She squeezed his arm.
“Someone like you.” She admitted shyly. This took Bobby by surprise.
“Wha-t?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m your boss Y/n, we can’t.” He insisted, it seemed like he was fighting with himself with that statement. Y/n rubbed his arm gently, holding herself from doing anything else as they were still in a common are.
“Says who? We can keep this to ourselves Bobby.”
His eyes darkened slightly, the nervousness disappearing at the reassurance that she felt the same.
“I could kiss you right now.”
Y/n blushed at his words.
“Well, didn’t you have some paperwork we had to go over in your office.” She said loud enough, using it as excuse to get some privacy.
“You are right, it must’ve completely slipped my mind.” He faked back a response before making long strides towards his office. As soon as the door closed behind the two, Bobby had Y/n pressed against the wall. His lips hungrily found their way to her soft ones, grinning as she returned the kiss.
He drew back, pressing her forehead softly against his own.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting this.” He whispered.
“Well you should’ve done it sooner.” She said with a grin, grabbing his face to bring him back into the kiss.
Bobby’s strong hands trailed their way down to her waist squeezing and pulling her body close to his own, movements sure and firm. He groaned, savouring the feeling of finally being able to do what he was wanting.
He grabbed her thighs, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist before leading them both toward his desk. Bobby guided her back until she was sitting on top of the desk, their tongues fighting for dominance. His soft fingertips rubbed her thighs, breaking away from the kiss he placed harsh kisses against her neck.
“I hate seeing them gush over you- it drives me insane.” He groans, letting his teeth grace the skin on her neck. This turned Y/n on even more, hearing that he was so worked up on seeing people flirt with her. She took her hands into his dark hair, tugging begging for him to be closer- for him to touch her.
“I want you Bobby.” She begged breathlessly.
As soon as those words left her lips, the firehouse alarm blared breaking the aroused pair apart. They both sighed knowing that their moment was over, bobby helped her down, straightening themselves out before moving to leave so it wasn’t obvious about what they had been doing behind that closed door.
“Duty calls, i promise we will continue where we left off.” He said, leaving a slap against her ass and giving her a quick peck against her blushed cheek.
“You better keep your word, captain.” Y/n grinned feeling flustered.
They made their way out of the office, acting as nothing ever happened.
They went to the call longing for the next moment they had together…
Buck had been acting suspicious for the past five months. (Y/N) could never pinpoint what was stressing him out. She thought maybe something happened on the job that he was afraid to talk about; but, Buck was always open with her about how he was feeling. What was different this time?
(Y/N) was planning on having a cozy night in her apartment until she got a text from Buck asking her to stop by after work. She had a company party to attend and refused to go back home to change just to have to drive back to Buck’s house. Maybe her in a dress would cheer him up from his sudden change in mood.
She gentle knocked on the door, before hearing him shout it’s open on the other side. Her hand gently pressed against the door slowly cracking it open. Immediately, her eyes shot towards the table in the middle of the room with lit candles and her favorite dessert displayed neatly in the middle.
Buck walked up to her with two dozen white roses. She immediately grabbed them taking in the scent as she mindlessly followed behind him. He pulled out her chair as she slowly sat down, still admiring the scene in front on her.
His cheeks began to blush with different shades of red as he got down on one knee. Her mouth slightly ajar, trying to find a spot to place the floors on the table. He grabbed her left hand before opening up the small black box, revealing an elegant oval shaped diamond.
“(Y/N), will you make me the happiest man alive and“ Her lips crashed into his cutting him off. He began to chuckle before fully pulling away. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Sorry.” She embarrassingly smiled.
“(Y/N), will you marry me?”
Eddie
(Y/N) sat on the couch flipping through stations on the tv with Christopher. Neither of them able to figure out what they wanted to watch. Plus, (Y/N) was starting to grow concerned when she kept hearing mumbling coming from the room Eddie was in. She noticed he was becoming distant and feared that it was somebody else occupying his time.
She remembered this one time when he was sitting on the bed and immediately shoved something in his nightstand drawer. Ever since she has been waiting until he said something.
Eddie stood in front of them hovering like a shadow. Both she and Chris looked at him confused. He was blocking their view of the tv.
“You know I love you right?” Eddie stared her dead in the eyes. (Y/N) nodded her head as she lowered the remote from being frozen in the air. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“Eddie what are you talking about?” She said confused by his random behavior.
He rushed down on one knee, shuffling in his pants pockets. He pulled out a velvet navy blue box.
“I know this isn’t the most romantic but I can’t wait any longer. Will you marry me?” A smile crept against her lips. She nodded her head yes as he placed the ring on her ring finger. They exchanged a quick kiss before Eddie addressed Chris.
“Chris are you excited for (Y/N) to join our family?”
“Yes, but can you move now so we can find something to watch.” (Y/N) started to laugh, giving Eddie one last kiss.
Bobby
Jazz music echoed in every room of the house. It was one in the morning and (Y/N) wanted to get as much rest as possible before going on vacation. She and Bobby had a lot of adventures planned for their cruise and they needed this time to relax. Unlike (Y/N), Bobby could not sleep. He was excited. She never thought he would be this happy about a vacation.
She got out of the bed and walked into the living in one of his shirts. He walked up to her taking her hand in his. Their bodies slowly swayed to the music playing.
“Bobby, we should get some rest.” She softly spoke. He hummed the tune of the music against her neck, swiftly pulling away to look her in the eyes.
“Marry me.” He blankly stated. She stopped immediately in her tracks. “I want this with you.”
“Are you sure?” (Y/N) knew he had lost his family not too long ago and didn’t want to pressure him into something he may never be ready for again.
“Positive.” He took the diamond ring out of his pocket. “I was planning on asking you during the trip, but no time better than the present. I love you (Y/N).”
He grabbed her hand, gliding the ring on her ring finger.
Chimney
(Y/N) entered the apartment to see Chimney running his hands through his hair. He paced around the living room like a mad man. The only time (Y/N) had ever seen him like this was when his father was in town.
“Chim?” He immediately stopped pacing and stared at her blankly. “What’s wrong?” He cleared his throat trying to find the right words to say, but he just stood in that one spot. “Are you okay?” (Y/N)s voice becoming more concerned with his behavior, even though this wasn’t too out of the ordinary on the scale of strange behavior.
“I lost your engagement ring.” He plopped down on the couch. (Y/N) walked over to him, gently sitting beside him. “I was going to ask you to marry me, but it’s gone. I can’t find it.” (Y/N) began to laugh. Chimney raised his eyebrows trying to figure out what was so funny. (Y/N) flashed the ring at him. His mouth nearly dropped to the ground.
“You were really drunk last night and asked me already.”
“You aren’t mad?” He softly spoke.
“Nope. Your speech was sweet, plus I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” She took his head in her hands and kissed him. She pulled away smiling. “How could I possibly say no to you.”
Soft and fluffy with a little smutty part. Only writing for fun!
It was getting late into the evening, Y/n was at home in her apartment waiting for Bobby to call after his shift. They had been seeing each other for a few months now and he always called her to check in. After all she wanted to make sure he was safe and well, his line of work is extremely dangerous.
Relief washed over her as his name lit up on the screen.
“Hey sweetheart.” Said a groggy Bobby.
“Hi handsome, how was work?” She questioned eager to hear about his day.
“It was a long one, call after call. I might’ve had a few snacks somewhere between them, it was nonstop Y/n.” He sighed. Bobby always put his all into his work, making sure everyone’s needs were met. Looking after his team sometimes meant he forgot about himself.
“That sucks, are you heading out?” Y/n asked.
She heard him hum in response. They chatted for a few more minutes before Bobby left the call to head back to his house. Y/n made herself comfortable on the couch before flicking on the tv to catch up on her shows.
Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard a loud knock on her door. It was getting late and she wasn’t expecting anyone. She quietly walked towards the door to have a peak out of the peephole, letting out a small 'oh' she excitedly opened the door.
There stood a disheveled, tired looking Bobby. His hair was messy, bloodshot eyes with exhaustion but he still had a small smile on his face when he seen the look of surprise in Y/n face.
She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing his body in close for a hug. He squeezed her tightly before pulling back to look down at her.
“Hi honey.” He smiled tiredly.
“I missed you.” He sheepishly admitted.
“I missed you too Bobby.” She gleamed with admiration for the man who stood in front of her. He sweetly bent down to give her a soft kiss against her lips, lingering for a moment before moving back.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll go make us some tea.” She offered as she ushered the tired firefighter towards the living room. Bobby sat down where she was sitting previously, making himself comfortable as he glanced at what was on the tv screen. He couldn’t help but to chuckle to himself as he saw that she was rewatching the same show over again, Y/n loved her comfort shows.
Y/n went to go make some tea, leaving Bobby for all of 10 minutes. Grabbing the two cups, she made her way back to the living room being careful not to spill them. There lay a sleeping Bobby, it had only took him a few moments to fall asleep from the exhaustion. His head was resting against the side of the couch as soft snores traveled out of his mouth.
“I guess they are both for me.” She spoke to herself, turning around and letting him rest.
Y/n glanced up at the clock, the time reading 11:00pm. It had been 3 hours since Bobby fell asleep on the couch, she was keeping herself occupied by watching TikTok’s ever since. Y/n knew he had to get up at some point to get ready for bed as he was still in his uniform, so she decided to run him a hot bath.
The water rushed out of the faucet, creating bubbles with the soap she had added. She lit a few candles to create the ambiance of a spa, wanting to keep the mood calm. Now to the part she didn’t like, disturbing a sleeping fire captain.
“Bobby.” She said as she knelt down beside the couch reaching out to rub his arm, before saying his name again. His face scrunched up slightly as he sluggishly opened his eyes to glance at the woman in front of him.
“What time is it?” He yawned.
“Just after 11, you’ve been out for a few hours. Thought I’d wake you up so we could get to bed.” She replied , reaching her hand out to him.
He stretched himself out, standing up to grab her outstretched hand. Bobby intertwined their fingers, following her lead as she brought them to the bathroom. His sleepy eyes widened at the sight of the bubble bath, flickering candles and fluffy towels laid out for him.
“You didn’t have to baby.” Bobby said amazed.
“I wanted to.” She grinned at him before pecking his lips.
“I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” She stated before turning to walk away but Bobby didn’t let her go.
“Stay?” He asked softly, wanting to enjoy the time with her. How could she resist? Y/n nodded, watching as Bobby started to undress himself. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a toned torso and strong arms that made her swoon. Bobby was a Greek God in her eyes, a hero with a warm heart who always knew the right thing to say.
He slipped in to the tub, sighing as he relaxed in the warm water. His eyes were closed but he felt Y/n staring at him, her eyes taking all of him in.
“Sweetheart, I wanted you to join.” Bobby specified.
“Oh? You did?” She asked nervously, they hadn’t really explored the intimate side of their relationship as Bobby wanted to take things slow. Watching him nodding his head was all the confirmation she needed before she shyly started undressing.
Taking her clothing off, her cheeks flushed as Bobby’s eyes were focused onto her. Watching as she slowly exposed more skin to him, he couldn’t help but to trail his eyes over every inch of her body. Y/n was only left in her underwear before Bobby spoke up.
“You are so beautiful Y/n.” He reassured her, giving her the confidence to fully expose herself to him. Whispering a goddamn under his breath Bobby found himself lost for words, she looked amazing. With red cheeks, Y/n stepped into the tub bringing her back against Bobby’s chest.
He instinctively brought his hands up to take her hair back from her face, leaving a soft trail of kisses along her neck.
“I’m so fucking lucky.” He whispered against her skin, making her shiver at his words. There was slight arousal in the air as it had been the first time they were this intimate. His big hands wandered to her stomach, rubbing gently as he continued moving up towards her breasts.
“Can I baby?” He asked not wanting to overstep.
“Yes.” She whispered welcoming him to explore that part of her body. His hands slowly massaged under her breasts, leading his fingertips up to her hard nipples. He smirked at her arousal, loving that she was enjoying the attention he continued to play with them gently. Y/n breath hitched every so often, enjoying the new sensation she was feeling.
“I thought you were tired Bobby?” Y/n giggled as he kissed behind her ear.
“Just making time for my girl.” He replied, gently biting the skin on her neck. The tension was growing thicker as Y/n heart warmed with his words.
“Thank you, captain.” Y/n moaned as he pinched hard down on her nipple.
“What did you call me?” He asked, almost begging her to call him it again.
“Captain, my captain.” She said innocently, loving the way he reacted to the name. Bobby groaned behind her, battling between his own arousal and exhaustion.
He gently washed her body, starting with her hair. His long fingers tangled their way through Y/n wet hair, lathering up the shampoo. Bobby took his time rinsing the shampoo out carefully avoiding getting it into her eyes before working down her body. His fingers slowly covered over her body, tracing every inch of her skin.
Y/n flipped over in the tub, turning to face the tired man.
“You are amazing Bobby.” She smiled. He gave her a tired smile in return, watching her eyes graze over his chest. It was his turn to be treated with such love, Y/n started with washing his short hair digging her nails in slightly to make sure it was fully washed. Then she was lathering his body with soap, massaging his strong arms and across his chest. His tired body enjoyed the massage as he let a deep sigh of relief flow out of his mouth.
Y/n cupped his face in her hands, bringing their lips together gently. They held the kiss for a few moments before breaking away from one another.
“Captain, I think it’s time for bed.” She grinned mischievously at him. There was a glint of playfulness in Bobby’s eyes at her words.
“If I wasn’t so tired, you have no idea what I would do to you right now..” he said sharply. This made Y/n want the man even more, his dominant side was coming out and it was hot.
“You’ll have to show me soon.” She said exiting the tub before handing him a towel. He grabbed it, using it to dry himself off. They both finished up in the bathroom, stealing quick glances of the other’s bodies now and then.
Y/n got under the soft sheets, getting comfortable for the night. Bobby made his way over, lifting the sheets to get under them. Sliding in, it didn’t take long for Y/n to rest her head on his chest, tracing circles on his abdomen.
Sleepiness was working its way in, with only the sound of slow steady breathing being heard.
“I love you.” Said a half asleep Bobby.
“I love you too, captain.” She hummed slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep feeling loved and protected.
Buck set the timer on his phone as he and (y/n) waited outside the door. Neither of them were willing to stay in the bathroom after being too tempted to flip the test over every five seconds. Buck let out deep sigh as he began pacing around the room. (Y/n) hated playing the waiting game like this. All the signs were there. She had morning sickness, food aversions, mood swings, and a missed period.
“I’m telling you Buck, it’s going to be positive.” She said in hopes he would settle down some.
“Yes, but what if it’s not.”
“I will still have to go to the doctors to confirm regardless.” He nodded his head in agreement. The sound of his phones alarm echoed throughout the room. He rushed inside the bathroom, snatching the test off the counter. (Y/n)s eyes widened as she waited for some type of response.
“What does it say?” She asked, fearing that she was wrong after all about the changes happening to her body.
“This is probably the clearest plus sign I’ve ever seen.” He flopped down on the edge of the bed next to her. Buck slid the test between her fingers so she could see for herself. (Y/n) looked into his eyes and swung her arms around his neck. He excitedly rocked her side to side. “We’re having a baby (y/n).”
She pulled away, staring back down at the test. His soft lips pressed against her cheek as they both tried to contain their excitement of being parents.
Eddie
(Y/n) had no clue if Eddie even wanted more children. He never mentioned kids or talked about any besides Christopher. She paced around in the locker room area trying to figure out what to do or even say to Eddie. (Y/N) had only found out an hour ago, but she already felt trapped on what to do next since Eddie was leaving for Texas.
“What’s wrong with you?” Eddie said, as he made his way to his locker to pack up his belongings to go home.
“Can we talk?” He was hesitant by the way her voice shifted when asking the question. He could feel the anxiety boil up in his chest. “You can’t move to Texas.” His eyebrows frowned up almost anticipating for her to say something else.
“Why not?”
“Eddie I’m pregnant.” He slowly sat down on the bench, taking in the news. He wasn’t necessarily happy about it or angry either. “It’s stupid I know.” She was about to walk out until she was stopped in her tracks. Eddie held tightly onto (y/n)s wrist pulling her closer to him.
“We will have this baby. Together.”
“What about Chris?” She questioned, knowing that was the main reason he was moving back to Texas.
“I’ll get Christopher back, but right now I need you and our baby to be okay.”
Bobby
So many nerves were running through (y/n)s body. Bobby was her Captain after all. They had only been dating for a year and she was already pregnant. Nothing could have prepared her for news as big as this. She decided to cook dinner and unwind to distract herself from the inevitable conversation ahead of her when Bobby got home.
The front door slammed shut causing (y/n) to jolt up, waking her up from her nap.
“I’m sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He turned on the living room light, making his way to her on the couch. “I’m surprised you’re sleeping this early.” She slowly sat up as he began to rub her feet. Her arms stretched over her head, as she let out a long yawn still groggy from her nap.
“The doctor said I’d get tired.” She proceeded to yawn again, snuggling up under the blanket.
“Why would he say that?”
“Pregnancy hormones I guess.” Her eyes snapped open. She completely forgot he didn’t know yet. He raised his eyebrows, nearly burning his eyes into her skin. Bobby pulled her in towards him, as his body hovered over hers.
“You’re pregnant?” (Y/n) nodded her head. He placed a kiss on her lips, smiling from ear to ear. “We’re having a baby.” He let out before kissing her forehead one more time.
Chimney
(Y/n) entered the her apartment holding a sonogram photo in her hand. She let out a deep breath and headed towards Chimney in the kitchen. (Y/n) had already made up in her mind that she was just going to go for it and tell him right away.
“Chim.” He looked in her direction with his brown eyes. “I know we’ve had trouble having kids and I will admit I should have told you sooner, but I wanted to be absolutely certain that it was really happening.” He continued to stare at her cluelessly.
“What are trying to say (y/n)?” A part of her was still unsure if she should tell him. The last thing she wanted to do was jinx them. She closed her eyes and gently placed the photo on the island. He took it between his fingers, staring at it lovingly. “Wow. We finally did it.” He started to chuckle a little. Tears formed in her eyes.
“Yeah Chim we did.” He walked over to her, giving her a big hug. Chimney looked back down at the photo in amazement.
“How far along?”
“Finished the first trimester yesterday. It’s going to be different this time.” He pressed a light kiss on her forehead.
“It’s our baby.” He said as the tears fell down his cheeks.
‘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!
Shino's secret favorite thing about being with his Alpha is that he is repeatedly reminded that someone genuinely thinks he's sexy.
Shino's Alpha is hungry for him. He gets licked off the bone. He's getting his guts rearranged. He's getting smooched everywhere. He's beating that Alpha away with a stick and prayers.
Shino never thought he was attractive. He was too weird. His clan was too off-putting. His insects were gross. He convinced himself he'd never mate.
But his Alpha proves that his brain is a fake friend and a liar because that Alpha is always two seconds away from begging to put just the tip in.
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+), porn with little plot, additional warnings undercut, sub!spencer, slight dom!reader, crying
Word count: 8k
a/n: for @kameowwww hope i did you good <333 this is the idea
this is like straight up porn so
main masterlist
Additional warnings: oral (f&m receiving), PinV sex unprotected (wrap it before you tap it), voyerism, masturbation (f), vibrator (f), orgasm denial, overstimulation, sub/dom dynamics
Spencer Reid had always been a man of intellect, preferring the quiet solace of books over the chaos of human interaction. He never quite understood the appeal of constant physical affection until he met you. Before you, his life was a series of equations and logical deductions, but you brought something new to the table—warmth, comfort, and a touch that ignited something deep within him. Now that he had tasted that sweetness, he found himself utterly addicted. He couldn't imagine going back to the way things were before you.
The two of you had been dating for quite some time now, and Spencer had grown accustomed to the constant stream of affection you showered upon him. It wasn’t just the emotional warmth that he relished but the physical connection as well. The gentle brush of your fingers against his skin was electrifying, each touch sending a shiver down his spine that lingered long after your hand had moved on. He adored the way you would pull him into a hug for no reason other than to feel his presence against you, your bodies fitting together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle.
When you kissed him, your lips soft and inviting, Spencer would lose himself in the moment, his mind quieting as all he could focus on was the sensation of you. The way your hands would slide up his chest, lingering at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, made his heart race with a fervor he had never known before. It was a sensation he couldn’t quite articulate, this melding of souls and skin that made him feel so alive, so desired.
The intimacy extended to the most mundane of routines—the way your hands lingered a little longer on his back as you parted ways in the morning, your fingers tracing small circles that left his skin tingling in their wake. Your touch was intoxicating, a sweet addiction that he eagerly anticipated each day. It was as if you had created a secret language of touch, a series of unspoken words that only the two of you understood, a language that spoke of love, trust, and an undeniable connection.
But now, he was miserable. Absolutely miserable.
Spencer had been shot in the leg during a case gone awry. The doctors said he couldn't fly for a while, which meant he was stuck back in D.C. while you and the rest of the team were off on another case. This separation was a special kind of torment, one that gnawed at him with every passing hour.
He found himself staring at his phone, the digital clock mocking him as the minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. It felt like time had slowed down since you left. No, it felt like time had stopped altogether. Spencer found himself yearning for the sound of your voice, the feel of your skin against his, the comfort of your presence. He missed you more than he could put into words, more than he had ever thought possible.
Every hour, like clockwork, he sent you a text. His messages ranged from sweet to downright needy, each one a reflection of his growing desperation:
9:00 AM: I miss you so much already. I can't wait for you to come back.
10:00 AM: Just had breakfast, and it's not the same without you. Miss you.
11:00 AM: I keep staring at our picture on my desk. It makes me smile and want to cry at the same time.
12:00 PM: I'm thinking about you. Are you thinking about me too?
1:00 PM: I miss you so much it hurts. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.
2:00 PM: I’m hard... It's so embarrassing. Do you think I should touch myself?
3:00 PM: I love you. I miss you. I need you. Please come home soon.
He knew he was being pathetic, absolutely pitiful, even. Spencer Reid, BAU genius, reduced to a lovesick fool who couldn't even go a day without hearing from you. It was embarrassing, really. But he couldn't help himself; his emotions were a whirlwind, and you were the eye of the storm—the calm he so desperately sought.
He knew you were busy, embroiled in the intricacies of the case, piecing together the psychological profiles that would lead the team to the unsub. He respected that, understood it more than anyone. Still, the emptiness of your absence gnawed at him, clawing at his insides until he felt like he was going mad.
As night fell, he lay sprawled on his bed, his phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds. Shadows danced across the ceiling, and he imagined your silhouette beside him, tracing the curves of your body with his eyes, feeling the warmth of your presence.
And then, finally, his phone buzzed with the notification he had been waiting for—your nightly call. Spencer's heart leaped at the sight of your name flashing on the screen. He scrambled to answer, almost dropping the phone in his haste.
“Hey,” he breathed, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He wanted to sound confident, but the anticipation of hearing your voice made it hard to keep his composure.
“Hi,” you replied, but your tone was laced with a hint of annoyance that made Spencer wince. “How was your day?”
Spencer hesitated, searching for the right words. “How—how was your day?” he repeated nervously, trying to ease the tension he sensed from you.
You sighed, the sound echoing through the line. “Other than my phone going off every two seconds, it was fine.”
His heart sank, guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling the weight of his own neediness pressing down on him.
“What did we talk about?” Your voice was firm, demanding an answer he was struggling to find.
“I don’t—I don’t remember,” he mumbled, the words tumbling out of him in a pathetic attempt to buy himself time.
“Don’t play dumb, baby,” you said, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “Put that eidetic memory to work. Tell me right now, or your ass will be so red when I get back.”
Spencer squeaked at the imagery, feeling his face heat up at the thought. His mind raced as he tried to recall the conversation, panic mixing with a strange thrill at your words. “Okay! You said… not to text you unless it was important, that you’d call me when you’re in the hotel,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
“That’s right, my smart boy,” you said, and he could hear the smile in your voice now. “You need to be patient, Spence. I know you miss me, and I miss you too, but we agreed on this for a reason.”
Spencer nodded, even though you couldn’t see him, his heart aching with a longing that was both painful and sweet. “I know,” he murmured, feeling the tension in his body ease as he listened to your voice, the gentle reprimand laced with affection. “I just… I miss you so much.”
“I know, baby,” you soothed, your voice like a balm to his frayed nerves. “And I promise, when I get back, we’ll make up for lost time.”
—
As soon as you set foot in your shared apartment, Spencer was up and running from his spot in the reading chair, the book he had been pretending to read for the past hour forgotten. He practically threw himself at you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close, his face burying in your neck as he breathed in the scent that was just so—you. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough, as if he wanted to meld into you completely, the relief of having you back washing over him like a tidal wave.
“Hi, baby,” you laughed softly, your arms encircling him as you returned the embrace, feeling his neediness and desperation in the way he clung to you.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured against your skin, his voice tinged with an aching vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings.
“I missed you too,” you replied, your fingers gently threading through his hair, offering him the comfort and reassurance he craved.
Spencer’s body was pressed tightly against yours, and you could feel him start to wiggle, subtly at first, as if testing the waters. But soon his movements became more insistent, his hips grinding against you in a desperate attempt to find some relief for the neglected erection that had been tormenting him during your absence.
“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow as you caught the sheepish expression on his face.
“...nothing,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink as he averted his gaze, suddenly finding the floor incredibly interesting.
You pushed him off gently, taking a step back to give yourself some space. Spencer’s shoulders slumped, and he looked down at his hands, the sting of embarrassment and rejection written all over his face.
“I just walked in the door, and you’re already trying to hump me like a bitch in heat?” you chided, your tone firm but not unkind. It was clear he had been waiting for this moment, stewing in his own need and desperation, and you couldn’t help but find his pathetic eagerness endearing.
Spencer glanced up at you, his eyes wide and pleading, the blush on his cheeks deepening. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small, shame and longing swirling in his chest.
You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I think you need to learn some patience, Spence,” you said, your voice dropping to a husky murmur that made his heart race. “But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’m going to take care of you. Just not until I’m ready. Understand?”
He nodded, his breath hitching at the promise in your words, his anticipation building as he realized he’d have to wait a little longer to get what he so desperately craved.
“Good,” you said, reaching out to gently tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Why don’t you make us some tea while I get settled? Then we can see about that little problem of yours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, the submissive role coming naturally to him as he eagerly turned toward the kitchen, his heart racing with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction at how easily he fell into place, his neediness a palpable presence in the room. It was a dance the two of you had perfected over time, a delicate balance of power and trust that left you both feeling fulfilled and connected in a way that was beyond words.
Once you were settled, you called him back to you. He returned with a tray, the tea carefully prepared, his hands slightly trembling as he set it down on the table. He looked at you expectantly, hope and trepidation in his eyes, waiting for your next move.
“Come here, Spencer,” you said softly, patting the spot next to you on the couch.
He obeyed immediately, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours, his body taut with anticipation. You reached out, your hand finding his, your touch gentle yet commanding, a silent reminder of who was in charge.
“Are you ready to be a good boy for me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his voice quivering with eagerness, his eyes shining with a mixture of adoration and need.
"Good," you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, a promise of what was to come, the warmth of your breath mingling with his. Spencer’s heart soared at the touch, his whole body tingling with anticipation. He tried to press into you further, reaching for your hips to pull you into his lap, yearning for more contact, more of you. But before he could make his move, you slapped his hands away and pulled back.
Dazed, he looked at you with wide puppy eyes, his expression portaying confusion and longing. "What?" he asked softly, his voice laced with desperation.
"I need you to do something for me, baby. Can you do that?" you asked, your voice a silky command that sent shivers down his spine.
Spencer nodded so fast he resembled a bobblehead, eager to please, to do whatever you asked of him. His eyes were filled with unwavering devotion, the need to be good for you evident in every fiber of his being.
"Good boy…" You praised him, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you stood up, walking toward the bedroom with a sway in your hips that was both enticing and authoritative. Spencer eagerly followed you, his heart pounding in his chest as he anticipated what was to come.
When you reached the bedroom, you pointed to the chair in the corner, your eyes never leaving his. "Sit down," you instructed, your voice firm yet gentle.
Spencer reluctantly took a seat, his mind racing. This wasn’t usually how things went, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty mingling with his excitement. "Babe?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice as he tried to understand your plan.
"Shhh… Can you be quiet for me?" you asked, your tone soothing yet commanding, and he nodded again, eager to comply.
He watched as you moved around the room with purpose, his eyes following your every step. His anticipation grew with each passing moment, the air between you charged with a tension that was both electrifying and maddening. Spencer sat on the edge of the chair, his hands gripping the armrests as he tried to contain his eagerness, his heart beating a frenzied rhythm in his chest.
He was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, the urge to touch you warring with the need to obey, to be the good boy you wanted him to be. He knew he had to trust you, to let go of his own desires and surrender to the moment, to the pleasure you promised.
You glanced over at him, your eyes meeting his, and the look you gave him was filled with a promise that made his pulse race. He could feel his resolve wavering, the need to reach out and pull you close overwhelming. But he held himself back, knowing that your control over him was part of what made this so exhilarating, so intoxicating.
Spencer took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to let go of his own wants and needs, and focus solely on you, on the sexual tension, on the connection that bound you together. He was yours, and he knew that this moment would be worth every agonizing second of waiting.
Once you finished collecting the items you needed, you walked just close enough to Spencer that he couldn't touch you and began to strip. Spencer slowly realized he was being punished, as undressing you was one of his favorite things to do, whether or not it was sexual in nature. He loved the sensation of removing each piece, the anticipation that built with every button undone and every zipper pulled. It was an intimate act that spoke of trust and desire, something that made him feel closer to you than anything else.
He whimpered from his seat in the chair, gripping the arms tightly. His fingers dug into the fabric, struggling to maintain his composure as he watched you, every muscle in his body tense with longing. You continued until you were bare, your skin glowing with a confidence that made his heart skip a beat. You winked at him, teasing him with the promise of what was to come, before walking back to the bed and climbing on with a graceful ease that left him breathless.
Spencer wanted to talk, to plead, to explain himself, but he didn't want his punishment to get worse. He was caught between his desire to be good and his desperation for relief. So he did the only thing he could think of—he raised his hand, a silent request for permission to speak, his eyes wide and imploring.
You laughed softly, the sound wrapping around him like a caress. "Yes, baby? You can talk," you said, your tone both gentle and authoritative, holding the power to both soothe and command.
"Am I being punished?" Spencer asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.
"Yes, smart boy. You are," you replied, watching him with a steady gaze, your words firm but laced with affection.
"Why?" He ventured the question, a tentative exploration of his transgressions.
"Why do you think?" you asked, challenging him to delve into his own behavior, to understand the reasons behind his current predicament.
Spencer thought as much as he could in his state, his mind swirling with a chaotic mix of emotions. "Um, is it, uh, because I touched myself?" he ventured hesitantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Well, I didn’t know about that, but thank you for telling me," you said, your lips curling into a sly smile as you watched Spencer's entire face fall, realizing he had just outed himself.
"Try again, Spence," you prompted, giving him another chance to find the true answer.
"Because I, I texted you too much?" he guessed, his voice small and contrite, like a child admitting to a misdeed.
"Good job, baby boy. You're done talking now," you confirmed, acknowledging his confession. "Now you get to watch."
With that, you pulled out your favorite toy, the bane of Spencer's existence, to pleasure yourself. It was a delicious torment, a visual feast designed to both punish and tantalize, to teach him the value of patience and obedience.
Spencer watched, his breath hitching as you began to rub the vibrator on your clit, the sight both mesmerizing and agonizing. He was captivated by the way you moved, the way you seemed so utterly in control, the way you drew out your own pleasure with an ease that left him reeling.
Spencer's eyes never left you, drinking in every detail, every gasp and moan, every shiver of your body as you pleasured yourself. His need was growing exponentially, a desperate ache that throbbed in time with his racing heart, a longing that was both exquisite and unbearable. Every fiber of his being was attuned to you, yearning for your touch, your approval, your love.
You were a vision of temptation, a goddess in your own right, and Spencer was helpless to do anything but watch, his hands gripping the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, the frustration and desire bubbling over into soft whimpers and pleas that slipped from his lips despite his best efforts to remain silent.
The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, a symphony that played just for him, a reminder of the power you held over him. Each sound, each movement was a sweet torture, intensifying his need until it was a tangible force, pressing down on him with relentless intensity. He felt a sob rise in his throat, a sound of both yearning and surrender.
"Please," he whispered, the word escaping him before he could stop it, his voice cracking with emotion.
You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing smile that made his heart skip a beat. "No talking, remember?" you reminded him gently, your voice a sultry command that sent shivers down his spine.
Spencer nodded, biting his lip to stifle the whine that threatened to spill forth. Tears slipped down his cheeks, hot and unbidden, as he struggled to keep himself in check, the battle between obedience and desperation waging a fierce war within him.
Even though he was being punished, he knew that this was part of what made your relationship so special, so unique—a delicate balance of dominance and submission that left him feeling more alive than he had ever thought possible. The act of surrender, of giving himself over to you completely, was a heady sensation, one that filled him with a profound sense of belonging.
However, as you entered your core with the toy, Spencer let out a heart-wrenching sob, the sound filled with raw emotion. It was a sound that spoke of betrayal and longing, a testament to the war inside him. That should be him! He couldn’t help the tears that fell, his feelings a torrent that he couldn’t control. You didn’t chide him for that noise, knowing that he couldn’t hold back from that much. It was a moment of vulnerability that made your heart swell with empathy and power, seeing just how deeply he felt, how completely he had surrendered to you.
The vibrator in your hand whirred quietly as you reached your own peak, and then you turned it off, the room descending into a hushed silence as you calmed your breathing, your chest rising and falling as you regained your composure. You climbed off the bed, your movements fluid and deliberate, each step a reminder of the control you held.
You walked over to Spencer, who was still sitting in the chair, a picture of longing and obedience, his eyes glistening with both shed and unshed tears. You offered him your hand, a gesture of both forgiveness and invitation, a silent promise that the moment of his punishment was over.
Spencer took your hand immediately, rising from the chair with a quiet eagerness that spoke volumes about his desire to please you, to earn back your favor. His obedience was at an all-time high, each movement careful and deliberate, as if he were afraid of making a misstep.
“You did so good, baby. It’s over, okay?” you murmured softly, your voice soothing as you reached up to gently wipe away the remnants of his tears. Your touch was tender, an unspoken reassurance that filled the space between you with warmth and affection.
He nodded, sniffling slightly, fresh tears running over the ones already dried on his cheeks. The vulnerability in his eyes tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of him so open, so trusting.
“Do you want your reward?” you asked, your tone teasing yet filled with genuine affection, knowing that he had earned the comfort and love that only you could provide.
“Yes, please,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, the need for your touch evident in every word. His eyes met yours, filled with a hopeful longing that made your heart skip a beat, a promise that he would do anything to stay in this moment with you.
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a promise of the reward that awaited him, a sweet culmination of all his patience and obedience. Spencer melted into you, his body relaxing as the tension ebbed away, replaced by the soothing balm of your touch.
With a soft smile, you led him to the bed, guiding him with a tenderness that spoke of love and understanding, ready to give him everything he had been waiting for, ready to show him just how much he meant to you.
"Okay, baby, it's your choice first. What do you want?" you asked, a gentle encouragement in your voice as you gave Spencer the rare opportunity to express his desires. It was a gesture of trust and affection, a way to show him that his needs were important to you, even within the dynamic you shared.
Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected freedom you offered him. He almost never had any sort of control in the bedroom, and the sudden responsibility of choosing what he wanted was both exhilarating and daunting. His mind raced, a kaleidoscope of possibilities flashing through his thoughts as he considered his options.
"Uh, um," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and excitement, "can you, um, lay down?"
"Sure, Spence," you laughed softly, the sound warm and inviting as you moved to accommodate his request.
Once you were laying on your back, your body a canvas of curves and soft skin, Spencer crawled between your legs, his eyes drawn to the glistening slick that beckoned to him. The evidence of what you had done was a siren call, screaming at him to reclaim you, to remind himself of who you belonged to just as much as he did.
Wordlessly, he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin as he positioned himself with reverent care. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with awe and adoration, before he licked your core from base to crest, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your entire being, making you moan in response.
His touch was gentle yet insistent, his movements guided by a deep-seated desire to please you, to erase the distance that had been between you and replace it with something more profound. As his tongue worked its magic, he focused on every reaction, every gasp and shiver, adjusting his actions to draw out your pleasure in waves that washed over you.
You felt your body responding to his touch, a symphony of sensations that built steadily, the connection between you deepening with every pass of his tongue against your clit. It was a dance of devotion and need, a testament to the trust you had built together, and the love that underpinned every moment of your shared intimacy.
Spencer’s hands gripped your thighs, steadying himself as he delved deeper into the moment, his senses overwhelmed by the taste and scent of you, the soft sounds of your moans spurring him on. He was utterly consumed by his task, lost in the rhythm of your responses, the symphony of your pleasure, a song he never tired of hearing.
As he continued, you felt the tension in your body coil tighter, the anticipation building with every passing second. Spencer was relentless in his devotion, his tongue and lips moving in a rhythm that threatened to send you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming, a rising crescendo of pleasure that filled every corner of your being.
But you didn’t want to finish just yet. You wanted to savor the moment, to draw out the exquisite tension that lingered between you. With a gentle but firm push, you moved Spencer away before it was too late, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you fought to regain control.
Spencer looked up at you, confusion and distress clouding his eyes. He immediately started tearing up again, a wave of insecurity washing over him as he tried to make sense of the situation. He blinked rapidly, his voice breaking with emotion as he tried to understand what he had done wrong.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbled, his words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. “Please let me try again, I’ll do better, I promise, please, just–”
“Whoa, baby, slow down,” you interrupted gently, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.
Spencer froze, his eyes wide and searching yours for reassurance. You could see the emotions swirling within him, a cocktail of desperation, fear, and hope that tugged at your heart.
“You did nothing wrong, Spence,” you assured him softly, your voice a calming balm that soothed the jagged edges of his anxiety. “I just didn’t want to come yet. You were doing so well, baby.”
He sniffled, his lower lip quivering slightly as he processed your words, relief flooding his system like a tidal wave. The tension in his shoulders eased, replaced by a tentative hope that he hadn’t disappointed you.
“Really?” he asked, his voice small and unsure, as if he were afraid to believe it.
"Really,” you confirmed with a warm smile, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “You were amazing, Spencer. I just wanted to take care of you first, okay?”
“Oh,” Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of pink as he tried to hide his face in your hands. He was such a giver that sometimes he forgot you liked to give too. The thought of you wanting to focus on his pleasure made his heart race with excitement and gratitude.
“Can I touch you, baby?” you asked softly, your voice laced with affection and a hint of playful intent.
“Mhm,” he nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with anticipation as he gave you his permission.
You switched positions, guiding Spencer to lay down on the bed, his body stretched out beneath you like a beautiful canvas. He watched with wide eyes as you climbed over his legs, your movements graceful and deliberate. You began to mouth along his adorable tummy, placing gentle kisses that made him giggle and squirm beneath you.
“Stop it, that tickles!” he laughed, his voice a joyful melody that filled the room. He tried to keep still, but his body naturally reacted to your teasing touches, causing his muscles to twitch and shift under your lips.
You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with affection at the sight of his genuine happiness. “Keep still,” you instructed playfully, your tone both loving and commanding, a mix that Spencer found utterly irresistible.
“I’ll try,” Spencer promised, his voice a bit shaky as he fought to obey your command. His eyes were wide, filled with a combination of anticipation and delight as he felt your lips continue their journey across his skin.
As you licked down his sparse trail of hair, you felt his body respond, muscles tensing beneath your tongue. He took a deep, steadying breath, the sound still a bit shaky, but he was doing better, finding his center amidst the flurry of sensations.
“Okay, Spence?” you asked, pausing to look up at him, ensuring he was comfortable and at ease.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied, his voice a little breathless but filled with warmth and trust. He couldn’t help the happy tears that welled up in his eyes, the emotion of the moment washing over him in waves. The feeling of being so cared for, so cherished, made him feel safe and loved in a way that was almost overwhelming.
“Okay,” you murmured, a note of reassurance in your voice, before you took him into your mouth, your movements deliberate and precise, a dance of intimacy that you had both perfected over time.
“Oh my god!” he cried, his voice a mixture of surprise and ecstasy, his head falling back against the pillow as the pleasure washed over him in waves. The sensation was almost too much, too intense, and he let out a series of whimpering cries, unable to hold back the sounds that escaped his lips.
Tears slipped down his cheeks, his eyes fluttering closed as he gave in to the sensations coursing through him. The feeling of your mouth wrapped around him was almost too much to bear, a pleasure so profound that it bordered on pain, he had been on edge for so long. He was lost in the moment, caught in a web of need and longing, every nerve ending alive with sensation.
“Please, please,” he begged, his voice hitching with each word. He could feel the tears spilling over, a combination of joy and desperation that he couldn’t contain. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”
You smiled softly, knowing that you had him right where you wanted him. His voice was a beautiful swirl of whines and pleas, a testament to the depth of his need and the power you held over him.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” you cooed, your voice a soothing balm that eased the tension in his body, even as the sensations continued to build. “Just relax and let go, okay?”
Spencer nodded, his head moving in jerky motions as he tried to follow your command. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself together, of staying still under the onslaught of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him. His hands clutched at the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort of maintaining control.
“I’m trying,” he whimpered, his voice cracking with emotion. “It just feels so good, I can’t—oh god, please!”
The tears flowed freely now, his cheeks wet with the evidence of his vulnerability. But he didn’t care, didn’t try to hold back the emotion that spilled over, knowing that he was safe here, that he was loved and cherished and understood. Every tear was a testament to the depth of his trust in you, to the surrender that came so naturally when he was with you.
As you licked and sucked his cock, Spencer felt himself go a little bit more insane. The sensations were overwhelming, each touch a bolt of electricity that shot through him, igniting every nerve ending with exquisite pleasure. When your tongue traced the ridge along his head, he thought he died and ascended to a higher being, the world around him fading away until there was nothing but you and the bliss you were giving him.
His body trembled beneath you, his muscles tensing and relaxing in a dance of ecstasy that left him breathless. Every stoke of your tongue was a sweet torture, a reminder of just how much he needed you. He felt like he was on the edge of something monumental, something that would shatter him and remake him all at once.
No longer able to hold his release any longer, Spencer began to babble again, the words spilling from his lips in a torrent of need and desperation.
“Oh, I’m going to come, please. Ohhh… please, can I come? I’ve been so good. Please!” he pleaded, his voice full of whimpers and cries, the emotion raw and unfiltered.
His eyes met yours, wide and imploring, filled with a desperate need for permission, for your blessing. His chest heaved with each breath, his body straining against the pleasure that threatened to consume him, to pull him under into a sea of bliss that he both feared and longed for.
“Please,” he begged again, the tears continuing to flow, each one a sign of his vulnerability, his surrender.
You paused for a moment, allowing the tension to build even further, your eyes locking with his, your expression both tender and commanding. The power you held over him was intoxicating, a heady mix of dominance and love that left you both breathless.
“Not yet, Spence,” you murmured softly, your voice a soothing balm that both calmed and ignited him, a promise of what was to come. “Just a little longer, okay? You can do it.”
Spencer let out a low whine, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, of obeying your command even as every fiber of his being screamed for release. But he nodded, his eyes shining with desperation and devotion, his heart full to bursting with the love he felt for you.
“Okay,” he whispered, his voice a shaky breath that carried with it all the emotion of the moment, all the trust and need and longing that filled him to overflowing. “Okay, I’ll wait.”
He bit his lip, his body a taut line of tension and anticipation, every nerve ending alive with sensation as he held himself back. His mind was a whirl of pleasure, need, and love. It was a beautiful agony, a sweet torment that left him on the edge of everything, ready to fall into the abyss of bliss that awaited him. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of how close he was to the release he so desperately craved.
“Good boy,” you praised, your voice a melodic promise that resonated deep within him, and then you mouthed along his balls, your movements calculated to push him to his very limits.
The sensation was too much, the culmination of everything you had built together. Spencer’s control shattered, and he felt himself tipping over the edge, the world narrowing to a single point of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Spencer shouted, his voice carrying apology and ecstasy, as he came, the force of his release catching him by surprise, his body shuddering with the intensity of it.
His release hit you in unexpected places, getting his come in your hair and on your face, the aftermath of his pleasure painting a vivid picture of the depth of his release.
You couldn't help but laugh softly, your eyes shining with amusement and affection as you took in his apologetic expression, the mix of embarrassment and satisfaction on his face endearing him to you even more.
“It’s okay, Spence,” you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing as you reached up to wipe the sticky substance from your skin. “You just owe me one.”
“What…?” Spencer asked in a daze of post-orgasmic bliss, his mind still spinning from the intensity of the experience. His breath came in shallow gasps, and he felt as if he were floating, weightless and free, in the aftermath of the ecstasy you had given him.
“I said,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his thigh in a gentle kiss that sent shivers down his spine, “you owe me one.”
“Oh,” he replied, his eyes widening slightly. He was slightly scared at the prospect of what was to come, knowing that your idea of a reward was often as intense as it was pleasurable. But beneath that fear lay a bubbling excitement, a thrill at the thought of pleasing you, of being able to return the gift you had given him.
“Think you can handle it?” you teased, your voice a holding challenge and affection as you watched the emotions play out across his face.
“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his answer immediate and earnest, his eagerness clear in his wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
“Okay, baby,” you chuckled, a playful light in your eyes as you shifted to climb on top of him. Your movements were graceful and confident, a display of the control you wielded with such ease. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged electricity that wrapped around you both as you prepared to take him on another journey of pleasure.
You grabbed his soft shaft, your fingers gentle yet firm as you worked him in your hand, your touch a combination of care and precision that drew Spencer further into your spell. The sensations were overwhelming, a cascade of stimulation that left him breathless and trembling beneath you.
As you moved, Spencer writhed and whined in overstimulation, his body a live wire of sensation that sparked with every touch. The overstimulation sent him into a dizzying spiral of sensation, the world narrowing to the point where nothing existed but you and the incredible feelings you were coaxing from him.
“Oh, oh god,” he gasped, his voice filled with desperation and delight as he tried to process the onslaught of pleasure. His hands clutched at the sheets, his fingers curling into the fabric as he fought to hold on, to ride the wave of bliss that threatened to sweep him away completely.
“Just relax, Spence,” you murmured, your voice a soothing balm that wrapped around him, grounding him even as he felt himself slipping further into the depths of ecstasy. “I’ve got you.”
The assurance in your words, the confidence in your touch, allowed him to let go, to surrender completely to the moment and you. Spencer’s whines turned into soft moans, his body moving in time with yours.
As you continued, he felt himself teetering on the edge once more, the pleasure building and building until it reached a crescendo that left him breathless, his world narrowing to a single, perfect point of ecstasy.
"Please, please," he begged, his voice a soft plea as he gazed up at you with wide, shining eyes, his heart full of gratitude and love. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” His words were laced with desperation, a raw emotion that spilled from him in waves.
In that moment, you let go, pulling away just before he reached his peak.
“No!” he whined, wiggling beneath you as his body searched for the contact he craved. His eyes were wide with disbelief and desperation, the sudden absence of your touch leaving him feeling adrift.
"Stop," you commanded gently, your voice a soothing balm that steadied him, even as you denied him the release he so desperately sought.
Spencer looked up with big eyes, waiting with bated breath for what was to come next. His chest rose and fell rapidly, anticipation and longing held him still, trusting you to guide him through the moment.
You rose up on your knees, positioning yourself with deliberate care, the soft, teasing smile on your lips hinting at the pleasure that awaited him. His gaze was fixed on you, awe and adoration in his eyes as he watched you take control.
Guiding his cock into your core, you moved with a grace that left him breathless, his heart racing as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of warmth and pressure that enveloped him, drawing a choked gasp from his lips as he felt himself surrounded by you.
You sank down until you were flush, ass to thighs, your bodies connected in a way that transcended the physical, leaving him trembling beneath you.
Spencer cried loud and drawn out, his noise one of ecstasy as his head fell back against the pillow, his mouth open in a silent cry of bliss. It was a vision that took your breath away, his body a canvas of sensation and emotion, every muscle taut with the intensity of the moment.
The pleasure washed over him in waves, each crest a surge of euphoria that left him gasping for breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he lost himself in the pleasure. His hands found their way to your hips, holding on as if you were his lifeline, grounding him amidst the dizzying swirl of sensation that filled his senses.
You moved with a rhythm that spoke of both tenderness and command, your body taking everything you wanted and needed from Spencer.
“Please,” he whimpered, the word a breathless plea that slipped from his lips unbidden, hopeful this time you would listen. “Please, don’t stop, please.”
His voice was raw with emotion, the sincerity in his eyes a reflection of the trust he placed in you, the love that filled every corner of his heart as he gazed up at you, his vision of perfection and desire.
As you continued, guiding him through the waves of sensation with a skillful grace that left him breathless, Spencer knew that he was exactly where he belonged—in your arms, wrapped in the warmth of your love, the safety of your embrace.
Touch-starved and needy, now overstimulated and desperate for release, Spencer brought his fingers to your clit in hopes you would let him come again. His touch was tentative at first, the gentle pressure of his fingers a plea for more, a request for permission that you were more than willing to grant. He was caught between his desire for release and the need to please you, and every part of him was alive with the anticipation of what was to come.
“Oh, good boy, baby,” you praised, your voice a sultry murmur that sent shivers down his spine. His heart leaped at your words, the warmth of your approval wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.
As he continued to rub your clit, his fingers moved with a deliberate precision that belied the need thrumming through him, his desire to make you feel as good as you made him. You writhed atop him, your body moving in sync with his, chasing your own release with a fervor that mirrored his own.
You could feel the tension building within you, each movement drawing you closer to the precipice, the edge of bliss that you both longed to reach. As you got closer, you purposefully clenched your walls, changing the angle in a way that made Spencer cry out in both pleasure and pain, the sensation pushing him toward the edge once more.
“Please, do that again,” he begged, his voice a breathless plea filled with desperation and hope. His eyes were wide and pleading, his need written across every line of his face.
And so you did.
With a knowing smile, you repeated the motion, the deliberate shift of your core creating a cascade of sensations that rippled through you both. Spencer’s body responded instinctively, his hips arching up to meet yours, his breath hitching in his throat as he felt himself being drawn into the depths of pleasure once more.
Every movement was a dance of desire, sensation that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a shared experience of bliss. Spencer’s fingers never faltered, his touch a constant reminder of his devotion, his eagerness to please, to bring you to the same heights of ecstasy that he longed to reach.
As you continued, the tension in your body coiled tighter, a winding thread of sensation that promised release with every thrust, every touch. Spencer’s cries mingled with your own, a duet of pleasure that filled the room, echoing off the walls as you both teetered on the brink.
You could feel the climax rising within you, a wave of bliss that built with each passing moment, drawing you inexorably toward the peak of your desire. Spencer’s fingers moved in time with the roll of your hips, bringing you right where you needed to be.
With a final surge, you gave in to the sensations, the culmination of your shared desire sweeping over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy. Spencer’s cry echoed yours, a harmony of whimpers and moans that filled the room, leaving you both breathless and spent in the aftermath.
Spencer thrust once more, before coming inside you. The intensity of the moment left him breathless, his body shuddering with the force of his release. You both knew he didn’t ask, but neither of you cared. The unspoken understanding between you was enough, a silent agreement that transcended words.
Just happy to have you home and be back in each other’s arms, you both reveled in the warmth of the embrace, the security of knowing that you were where you belonged. His breath came in soft gasps as he tried to recover, the afterglow of the experience wrapping around him like a warm blanket.
“Welcome home,” Spencer murmured, his voice a whisper of contentment as he nuzzled into your neck, his arms wrapping around you with a gentle possessiveness that spoke volumes about how much he had missed you.
You smiled, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back, a gentle reminder of your presence, your promise to always return to him. The motion was soft and reassuring, a silent affirmation of the bond that had kept you together through time and distance. Spencer melted into your touch, the tension in his muscles slowly unwinding under your gentle caress.
“I missed you so much,” you whispered back, your voice tender and filled with sincerity. The words were a balm to his soul, soothing the ache of longing that had settled in his chest during your absence.
“I love you,” he whispered into your skin, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzled closer, seeking the comfort and safety that only you could provide.
“I love you more, baby,” you replied softly, your voice a gentle promise that wrapped around him like a protective embrace.
The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the comfort and security of each other’s arms. It was a moment of perfect peace, where nothing else mattered but the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the rhythmic beating of your hearts creating a soothing melody that lulled you both into a state of contentment.
my requests are open! i'm comfortable writing for any sexuality, gender, and/or specified reader preference! my basic model is a fem!reader x male!character because that is how i myself identify and who i am attracted to -- so if you want something else just lmk!! <33
click here for my taglist :) and here for the continued masterlist !
꩜ -- angst ♡ -- fluff ꕥ -- smut
Spencer Reid
Series
★ Bridges to Belonging ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six (18+) Part Seven (18+)
★ Finding Home Again ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two (18+)
-- -- -- Extras -- Jeans ♡ ꕥ Migraines ꩜ ♡ Bar ♡ Stood Up ꩜
★ i love you ꩜ ♡ ꕥ— Part One Part Two
★ Short Shorts & Long Hair ꩜ ♡— Part One Part Two
★ Too Sweet ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two Part Three
★ Make You Feel My Love ꩜ — Part One Part Two Part Three
★ Something Better ꩜ — Part One Part Two
★ Breaking Point ꩜ ♡ — Part One Part Two
★ Too Damn Young ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two
★ Red ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two
★ Lost in Translation ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
★ Life With Spencer ꩜ ♡ ꕥ — Part One Part Two Part Three
I'll be taking part in the CM Kink Bingo this year~♡ All of my current NSFW requests will be posted as part of the challenge, so I already have a lot of ideas ready! I'll be posting the first one on the 26th.
I'll be using this post as a masterlist, and I'll post the fics below with the prompts they fit for~♡ I've planned all the fics now, so I won't be taking requests for this challenge.
Spencer Reid was never one to masturbate. Not that he thought it was wrong or had strong religious beliefs, it just wasn’t something he really dealt with. Not to say that he’s never done it, it was just rare. Sure there were times when he would wake up with morning wood, but it’d calm down the moment the cold water of his shower hit him.
But tonight? Tonight not even the freezing water of his shitty apartment shower could save him.
It was all because of that stupid work party. It’s no secret that Spencer thought you were the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth. He had come to terms with the fact that he has a huge slight crush on you a while ago.
Spencer was fine with this. He admired you from a safe distance and was able to keep things professional. Other than the occasional blush that would spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears when you complimented him or touched him or looked at him- okay maybe it wasn’t as ‘occasional’ of an occurrence as it was an ‘every single day’ occurrence.
Spencer originally wasn’t even going to come to the party, but when he has overheard you talking about how excited you were to Penelope, well he just had to show up, at least for a little while. He stood in the corner observing the crowd and playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. When he looked up next he nearly keeled over at the sight of you coming in.
Here you were in this fitted red dress with a sheer black overlay. It hugged your curves so deliciously he could’ve sworn he started drooling. Spencer had seen you in casual clothes before but this? This was something else entirely.
He didn’t realize you were in front of him until he heard your sweet voice asking if he was alright. Clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair, he tried to play off his strange behaviour and excused himself. Spencer all but ran to the restroom and splashed water on his face to calm himself down. God what was he supposed to do? He can’t just leave now it would look weird as the party only just started. Drying his face, he steadied himself to get through an hour or so of this party and then he would be free to leave without raising suspicions.
That’s how he found himself here, in his bed. Rock. Fucking. Hard.
He tried everything he could to make it go away but no matter what he thought of it always lead back to you and that dress.
He’s desperate at this point and his cock painfully hard in his pants. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he’s no longer in control as his hand cups the obvious bulge. A whimper escapes him at the slight touch. He’s quick to shimmy his pants off and rub himself over his boxers. He pulses and twitches at the contact but it’s not enough, he needs more. Reaching to the side of him he grabs hold of a pillow and positions it over his cock.
He presses the soft, puffy, fabric against him and lets out a gasp. His hips buck up involuntarily and the next thing he knows, he’s thrusting up against the pillow at an unsteady rhythm. “Fuck” he moans out as his mind begins to wander. He can’t help but imagine you. Your perfect body pressed against his, rocking back and forth on his clothed cock. He’d hold your waist so tightly as he ruts up into you, loving the way you feel in his hands. Your perfect tits bouncing as you rub yourself against him, using him for your pleasure.
He speeds up his movements as he feels his cock leak precum. “Can feel how messy you are” you’d say, “you like when I rub my pussy over your hard cock?”
Yes, god yes he loves it.
“Please” he moans into empty room. Changing his position, Spencer straddles the pillow and thrust hard and fast wishing it was you. “So desperate Spence, humping my pussy, can’t even wait to get inside of me can you?”
His eyes roll back as he fucks into the pillow like his life depends on it. The friction feels so good against him but he knows it’s nothing compared to how you’d feel. Tight, warm, wet walls sucking in his cock.
His underwear are soaked in his own precum at this point but he doesn’t care. He just wants to cum. His thrusts grow ragged along with his breathing. He’s so close. So so close. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum from humping my pussy Spence?”
“Yes, yes please! I’m gonna cum god I’m so close” Spencer cries before his thrusts stall and fills his boxers with cum.
He rolls onto his side as he twitches with aftershocks. Breathing heavily, he slowly comes back to earth. Feeling the stickiness in his briefs he cringes and peels them off, tossing them to the floor.
Spencer Reid was never one to masturbate, but when he did? It was always to the thought of his beloved, sexy coworker.
A/n: um happy Valentine’s Day I guess?? This is not valentines-esque at all but it came to me in a vision. Hope you enjoyed!
nobody understands spencer reid the way i do because all the fic writers who write him as sub (which he definitely can be sub at times, i headcanon this strongly!) write him sub from seasons 1-5(ish) but then write him as dom ESPECIALLY!!!! post-prison
none of you understand that prison would not change this man’s bedroom preferences.. why are people assuming him being in prison would make him dom suddenly? are they teaching bdsm classes in prison or something???? ya’ll are just going off his rougher look… NO!!!!!
in my head, post-prison spencer would be EXTRA subby for his partner. he just had a highly traumatic experience for 3+ months where he had to be on high alert 24/7 and fend for his LIFE. he wants to be held and loved while letting his guard down with the person he loves. he wants to give up some control. he wants to be told how amazing he is and how handsome he looks.
