draft ⊰ still an idea, or rough prompt developed in orange, a few sentences written if marked in green.
in progress ⊰ introduction or a few paragraphs written, green if I am actively working on the piece.
incoming ⊰ majority is already written, and I am about to finish it. marked in orange if only a few sentences are missing. fully finished and just waiting to be posted if it's in green
If a title piqued your interest, feel free to lmk! I am easily swayed and always willing to shift my focus if there is demand, lol.
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commission rules
Generally, you can send in or ask anything. I guarantee to write for the groups/fandoms already on this list, but I am a multistan, feel free to try your luck and suggest other groups as well. If I genuinely don't know the group well enough, or am for some reason uncomfortable writing for them, I will take the liberty to politely decline lol.
Probably 95 percent of themes, prompts, kinks and fetishes are a-okay for me. What I do not write for are extreme age gaps, (pseudo) incest, drugs, scat or rape. Idk, I also wouldn't write something absurd like balloon sex or wtv, but I don't think anyone on here would request that.
I'd call myself a smut author, therefore if you suggest any other genre, expect it to be on the shorter side. On that note, the less descriptive the request is, the more random and probably more brief the post will be.
If you want something specific, specify as much as possible. If you want a written fanfic over a drabble, specify so.
I do not write anything other than fem!reader, and I will not take requests for any specific nationalities or racial backgrounds. If you want to request a specific body type or physical feature, I will keep it broad and inclusive.
thank you so much for the mile high club fic ❤️❤️❤️ i love it so so much!! could i now request a taehyun fic where reader is a makeup artist/hair stylist for txt and taehyun has a crush on reader. so he always snacks on purpose to mess up his lip tint or runs his fingers through his hair so his hair keeps getting messed up and he keeps going back to retouch it. it can be fluffy or smutty!! thank you againnn!!!!
𝑊𝐼𝑇𝐻 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐻𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑆 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
K.TH
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɪᴅᴏʟ!ᴛᴀᴇʜʏᴜɴ x ᴍᴀᴋᴇᴜᴘ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ꨄ︎ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Taehyuns crush on you is only growing the more you come close but he’s having trouble admitting so. That’s okay, his friend will help him whether he likes it or not…
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: workplace meet cute, fluff, Beomgyu being a menace of a wingman, honestly none it’s very sweet
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.1k
𝙆𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨…⋆˚࿔ so glad to hear I did your other request justice anon and that you trust me for another yay!!!💗💗
such a cute prompt too just tyun coming to terms with his crush awee so I kept it fluffy cause that’s what felt right hope that’s okay!!!(╥﹏╥)
Taehyun can barely count on both hands the amount of times he feels his heart stutter in his chest because of you by now, it's starting to become increasingly worrying the lengths he'll go to just to have you orbiting around him, to have you touch him.
He never should have let it reach this far, but from the first time you stepped into the dressing room he knew you'd be dangerous to his self-discipline and steady habits. He'd barely notice if you hadn't stumbled in, equipment bags slung on your forearm and knocking the wood in tow as you squeezed yourself through in time of the door shutting behind you. In turn you receive a few glances from the other staff and a few of the members themselves, offering your sincerest apologies for disturbing their rest time; there's that fresh, first day nerves appearance gracing your features, eyebrows knitted tight and your throat swallows down the excess saliva your mouth is so betrayingly producing.
A few of your hair strands are whipped unrestrained against your forehead in hurried rush; by no means are you late, you'd ensured that with multiple alarms set the night before but you're starstruck enough just by even landing this job, let alone finally being face to face with your clients who happen to be famous idols. It's one thing seeing their faces plastered on your younger sister's wall and an entirely different thing when they are actually in-front of you, waiting patiently for you to begin your art. So you approach hesitantly, it appears you're the first of the makeup team to arrive so you have no one's lead to follow and it's all the more nerve wracking that way.
You'd better get use to it fast, this was your responsibility now - so you dive in before your feet plant you in place and you make a fool of yourself even more than you already have. Yeonjun makes the perfect first client for you, he sits perfectly still for each application, barely even shaking when it's time to dab foundation along his skin, you're hardly applying assertively but with years of practice he must be a veteran of remaining steady by now. You're thankful.
Unbeknownst to you, Taehyun sits just to the side of you and Yeonjun, sneaking glances every now and then but he just can't figure out why he's so compelled to. He knows you're pretty, that much was obvious from the first glance of you, but why is he feeling his heart kick into action when the rest of your team arrives and he overhears his name.
"Thanks for starting, you can move onto Taehyun now, his shoot is next"one of your colleagues murmurs under their breath and you nod, packing away a few of your handheld equipment. Taehyun shuffles further up in his seat, since when did he begin slouching? When he was lost watching the way your tongue pokes against your cheek in concentration? Either way you'd hardly think him professional if he was slumped against his chair when you approached so his back rests upright once more, gulping as you make your approach to his station.
You greet him joyfully and he wonders where you've found the energy for it this time in the morning but he'll not question a good thing for too long, the sun may as well have risen already by how gleaming your smile appears up this close.
And you do move closely, you have to if you want to apply his makeup correctly - of course he knows this but when your face is inches from his it's easy to forget the basics. The perfume you wear is floral and sweet, caressing his senses just like how your fingertips swipe a base cream to his complexion, you're so gentle with the application he barely feels you there.
He freezes in place, screwing his lids shut once you're finished with eye makeup because he notices every little detail of your face, each freckle and each minute expression that makes the back of his neck bloom with goosebumps.
"You sit so well, thank you!" He barely registers the compliment before fluttering his eyes open to find you already vacating to the other members, the raw feeling of jealousy bubbling in his gut strikes him unnerved at the thought, he doesn't even know you but the thought that you'll be up so close to another as you just were with him drops the pit in his stomach. You're simply doing your job, he knows that, so then why does he feel this way? It's completely unbecoming of his character, he's not proud so he buries the feelings until they surface again the next time you're on shift.
And the next... and then again until the lines between appropriate and uncontrollable blur.
Eventually you even begin to converse with him during the time you're applying his makeup, incredibly proficient at concealing how elated he feels to learn snippets of your life and experiences, you always ask him ten times the questions he does; purely intrigued to learn more of what his job entails, thoughts and feelings on the day and every single little query that comes to mind.
But when you ask his other members the same things it's impossible to feel like it means anything other than how sociable you are, how you seem to adapt to every situation like a chameleon; you've ran out of a specific tone? That's okay, you're tweaking the entirety of your work to match. He needs a reapplication after smudging his face? You're by his side in a split second, fixing the blemish under strict time constraints effectively.
Each time he glances in the mirror after you're done he's astounded by your precision and keen eye for detail, you always seem to make him feel as pretty as he thinks you are, a Midas touch that turns him to gold and fortune. If he didn't know any better, he might call the feelings he tries so desperately to submerge what they are; inexplicably he's found himself with a crush.
At first that word makes him feel childish, he's left those teenage years of innocent yearning behind and here he finds himself blushing whenever you're near, the foolishness of adolescence seems to not be so far away than he originally thought. That much is easy enough to deduce when he catches himself purposefully snacking between schedules hoping it messes up the lip gloss you’ve painted so diligently on his lips, not enough to make it plainly obvious he’s trying to diminish your work, but just enough to have you rush over to him as soon as you spot that it’s smudged.
“Here, let me touch that up for you…” you speak so delicately each time, shuffling right towards him. Selfishly he likes this position better than when he’s sat in the seat for you, the mirrors reflection behind you reveals that you have to stand on tiptoes to even reach up to his lips for a better view. Even better than that; he leans down for you, eyes sitting level with yours and you’re so close that even this innocent act of reapplication feels intimate. There’s nowhere to turn but your face, an excuse to stare just a little longer into your eyes hoping you glance right back into his, wishing they’ll tell you what he’s too nervous to with words.
Taehyun counts himself lucky that he's a stoic personality, otherwise it might be obvious that his little soft spot for you grows each time you swipe a brush against his cheek or chuckles at a quip remark he's made as you reapply. It's a rather decent act he's parading, to pretend the cushioned plush of your palm against his cheeks doesn't make him falter. It all seems to be going so well for him until you scrunch your nose at him before a performance, swiping the cream with extra caution than what you usually exercise.
"You feeling okay today? Your skins a little more red than usual. Hope they're not overworking you in the practice rooms" you puff out laughter to imply it's not criticism but merely an observation. You would know, you spend most days monitoring his skin so closely you know each divot and line upon his face, much to the flutter of his heart.
"Oh, yeah I'm good, thanks. Probably just the beer I drank last night, sorry" he forces a smile back to you, you seem to be putting more effort in to the cover the blush of fuchsia dusting his cheeks than you have any other time you work with him.
But he won't tell you that you're the cause of it. That the alcohol is a cover for the fact you're so close he can feel the warmth of your breath as you exhale, the reason he’s blooming with color is you.
Beomgyu on the other hand recognises instantly the little white lie he's just sprouted, darting his head up from his phone to where Taehyun sits by the booth. He’d been with him the entire night before and not once had alcohol touched his lips so his has to see this with his own eyes, watching as the red stretches to the tips of his ears and the bridge of his nose. No, this was not an flush of the alcoholic kind, this was simply the nervous kind. The kind that so painstakingly blossoms because of one thing alone; a crush.
Beomgyu can’t help but smirk from the realisation, waiting until Taehyun catches it in the mirror and they lock eyes - a standoff until Taehyun knows all too well what lays behind that smile. It’s all mischief and nothing good for him.
Without words, the phone is locked in his pants and Beomgyu stands, prowling over to the station where you are still completing your work. Taehyun feels his heart punching his ribcage, anticipating the lips he knows are about to start moving and blabbering speech too closely resembling ratting him out.
“Wow, ynnie! You always do such a good job of making our tyun look pretty!” Beomgyu’s tone is sickly sweet, only just so that Taehyun knows the intention but you remain oblivious. You smile and laugh at that while Taehyun is practically withering inside, his shell might seem nonchalant, he breaks no sweat but he’s completely at Beomgyu’s mercy here. He scowls at him through the reflection, willing him to stop before he says something that can’t be taken back.
“Thank you, he hardly needs my help for that though, I only enhance what’s already there” you humbly reply and never catch how Beomgyu’s eyes widen in response, almost nudging Taehyun’s shoulder before realising that would jolt him and create more work for you.
Taehyun catches it though, of course. He’ll not give Beomgyu the satisfaction of a reaction but trust enough inside he’s levitating from your words. The sensible, logical corner of his brain shouts at him to remain calm, it’s simply a polite response that means absolutely nothing. You’d hardly call him hideous to his face but there’s that childish side niggling and begging attention to have him confront that you’d even consider him in the same conversation of attractiveness.
It makes him zone out the entire time you finish his makeup, missing all his favourite steps like when you have to lean over him to reach the brush you misplace every time, or when you take the clips out of his hair to have his bangs fall back over his forehead, adjusting them as you see fit across his face. The stark contrast of Beomgyu’s voice against the velvet of yours wake him up “my turn?”
“Yes, Beomgyu, your turn. Sit, I’ll start prepping” you chuckle as he boisterously clambers onto the seat next to you, wriggling eyebrows in Taehyun’s direction. Again he receives no response, just his friend deadpanning him for his playful jabs so he smirks at him, a devious plan hatching in his mind.
As soon as the base layer hits Beomgyu’s skin he’s humming in content, preening closer into your touch and sweetly adds “feels so nice, ynnie, your hands are so soft…” whining obscenely with each additional application of makeup. You think little of it, he must simply be in a good mood today but in the seat next to you, Taehyun is seething.
It’s in the details; on the outside he’s just as composed as ever, a statue of poise and equanimity but in the bylines he’s unravelling, fingers tapping profusely against his thigh, jaw clenching. He knows it’s a ploy, an attempt to pull a reaction from him and where he once thought he’s resistant against menial performances like that his friend is playing, the physical reactions his body is betraying him with tells that perhaps he feels a little more for you than he originally anticipated.
The thought of another man receiving the same satisfaction from your touch, teasing or not settles uncomfortably within him, as though he’s the only one that should receive such delight from you. He’s determined to be the only one; he sucks up the parade of Beomgyu’s compliments and moaning like a lemon in the mouth, sour and grateful to spit it out once you’re finished his makeup.
“Yn, can I speak to you for a moment?” Taehyun asks gently, prompting you towards the corner of the room with the clothing racks where it’s at least a little more private than the booth seating. Your eyes widen from surprise until you quickly reel it in and he regrets that he’s most probably caused you panic, you likely hardly expect this conversation to be anything good if he’s requesting seclusion but it’ll have to remain this way for a moment longer until he’s spoken what now needs to be said.
You courteously accept and make you way over, Taehyun following before feeling a clap to his back from Beomgyu, encouraging him with a hushed “go get your girl…” Taehyun dismissively shakes his head, a small smile upon his lips upon the realisation this was Beomgyu’s plan all along, to have him finally go after what he wants: you.
Instinctively you hide behind the clothing screens, if he’s to reprimand you for a shabby makeup job you’d rather not have witnesses to your embarrassment, your pulse rising as he steps in, his frame looming over you.
“If you don’t like how the makeup looks, I can redo it for you! I’m sorry if it’s not how you wanted it to come out-“ you’re a stuttering mess, spewing out nonsense just so he won’t have to feel so guilty explaining that your work isn’t up to standard today but he hushes you gently “-no, no, it’s nothing like that. You’ve done a great job, you always do. There’s just something I’d like to ask you, are you busy after your shift today?”
He’s casual and it settles you somewhat, so effortlessly collected as he plants his hands in his pockets as you ponder “not particularly…” you nervously chuckle, in truth you’d only planned to schedule in some training time for looks you’re less confident in creating, but it hardly seems right to admit your self doubt when you already feel so nervous under his gaze.
“Care to meet for a coffee? there’s one just round the corner so it’s not too far for you” he asks nonchalantly but inside he’s spiralling, has he come off too cool that it reflects he’s asking in a friendly way? Should he add some more depth into it and come off too strong? He’s truly clueless but you seem stunned all the same and he awaits on a knife’s edge until you warmly smile and nod “I’d like that, coffee sounds good”
Unknowingly you’re experiencing your own melt down inside, in all truth you’d always found Taehyun the most pleasant of his members, he’s calm in an inviting way, a curious mind to ponder the same questions you have for the world around you and sense of understanding similar to his. It certainly helps that he’s easy on the eyes too, your breath always hitches reaching in to catch a better glimpse of your work up close, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek to allow you to stare a little more unabashedly.
So the fact he’s asking you, of all people to meet casually outside of work makes your stomach do flips, was this even permitted in the fine print of your contract? Either way you’re elated, if nothing is to come of this at least you’ll get to spend even a moment longer in his company without having focus too much on work and more so on him.
“Great, I’ll meet you in the lobby after I’m finished here?” You nod again enthusiastically, tucking your hair behind your ears sheepishly with a small bow to dismiss him.
He’s about to, turning just before to add “to be clear, I’m asking you on a date. Is that okay?”
Both hearts stutter; his because he’s actually finally admitted not just to himself but to you also that the feelings he’s wrestled with for weeks now have weight, that his crush on you is not wavering in the way he initially thought it would. It’s remained firm, only increasing with each time you get close. Each time you touch his face with such tenderness he pretends you’re already his.
And yours; because truly you don’t believe someone as handsome and intuitive as Taehyun has honed into you, out of the hundreds of members of staff on his team you are the one he wants to know deeper. You’d be foolish to refuse him now “that’s more than okay, Taehyun…”
You smile just as brightly as the day you first stumbled into the dressing room, reminding him precisely of the moment his heart decided it desires company. Resisting the temptation to finally press his lips against yours, something he dreams of each time you apply gloss to his lips with the brush wishing it was your lips instead, he nods favourably, stepping back out from behind the screens, leaving you now with pink settling on your cheeks.
There’s always time for that to come, perhaps in the quiet corner of the coffee shop where no one cares to pay attention to, or perhaps on the deserted street as he drops you home. Either way the thought of your lips keeps his feet moving forward in that direction, the memory of something yet to happen; your first kiss.
I have been reading lights out, saw this tiktok and am drunk as fuck rn here y'all go
cw: fem!reader, smut, mask kink (!!!), descriptions of rough sex, loser!gyu turns into hard!dom, dubcon, face slapping, spanking, hair pulling, very light degradation, possessive, Gyu is taller than reader and picks her up, big dick gyu agenda and cervix fucking bc, friends to ??, unprotected sex and talk about contraception (reader is NOT on birth control), slight language barrier (reader is explicitly non-Korean (but nothing else specified)), talk of dumbification, reader is younger than beomgyu and uses honorifics (oppa is used!), the teeny tiniest bit of anal play, reader is described as a bookworm, alcohol consumption in the beginning (the smut is sober!), not proofread obvie but grammarly free is turned ON
You attentively follow the spinning bottle with your hazy eyes, trying to sharpen your focus as the alcohol buzzes through your veins. Your brain is nothing more than a ball of cotton, and you are dreadfully aware that you are polluting the air with your bullshit every time you open your mouth, stuttering on top of everything. Normally, you'd hide your grammatical errors behind your confidence, but the things you have been babbling about for the past hour would have even been nonsensical in your native language. You are a bit embarrassed; no one else seemed to be as drunk as you. At least that's how you interpret the occasional worried glances to your side from your best friend Beomgyu, who simultaneously carasses your back with his large hand. He has also noticed your state, but he hasn't said anything yet.
It must be fine then, you think, taking another sip of your mixed beverage.
Your efforts to concentrate haven't paid off at all, only realizing the bottle landed on you as Beomgyu shakes your shoulders to catch your attention. You notice people chuckling around you, but you can't tell who. "Y/n" Your friend mumbles with a small smile. "Yeonjun-hyung asked you something." Thankfully, Beomgyu chose simple words and simple grammar, being mindful of your state.
He is so sweet to you, you think, shifting your gaze towards his friend. His lips are contorted into something much closer to a grin, tilting his head tauntingly. "Truth or dare?" He, presumably, repeats.
The moment you stand up, everyone is going to see how fucking wasted you are just from a beer, a shot, and half of this drink. Or maybe you had a second shot? Nevertheless, this can't happen. They're going to make you stand up-
"Truth." You blurt out before you can finish your thought. You look up at your friend beside you, searching for some sort of confirmation about this choice that only makes sense to someone in your current state. He just continues to smile at you with slightly furrowed brows. That's.. bad?
Yeonjun laughs a bit at your eager response and takes a theatrical moment to think. Maybe he's also a bit drunk, you wonder.
"What's a dirty secret you haven't shared with anyone yet?" He asks you, adding. "Even with your friend over there." Nodding towards Beomgyu from across the circle. He always jokes about your friendship with his bandmate. Honestly, it makes you a bit uncomfortable. You trust Beomgyu so so much; it makes you question if you should be more wary.
You dismiss this thought as quickly as it popped into your head, rather using the remaining working 25% of your brain power to answer the question. "Every book I read is about sex." You confess the first thought that popped into your head, remembering the novel you indulged in during your commute here. You add. "I can't read a book that doesn't revolve around it." You hear Beomgyu choke, whipping your head around to look at him cough into his hand. You reach out to him, wanting to stroke his cheek with concern, but you get distracted by Taeyhun's assertive voice in response to your admission. "But every time I see you, you are buried in a book?"
You just nod, plainly, too numb by the alcohol to feel shame. "They're not Korean, so I am not worried that anyone knows what I am reading. The genre is called dark romance. There is a romance aspect, of course, but if I am being honest, it's mostly about two people who like each other who have kinky sex." You used the English word "kinky", not bothered by the fact that maybe not everyone understood the load this word entails.
Beomgyu's voice is a bit rougher, lower, after coughing so much, as he finally speaks up. "You only need to answer one question, y/n, you can spin the bottle now." And you do so, urging the next person who picked "dare" to lick the big toe of their friend to the left.
A few hours have passed, and you find yourself cuddled onto Beomgyu's shoulder on the couch, the group's attendance halved by now. They're talking about something, something you aren't concerned with. You are tired and ready to go home as well. Social outings are a bit draining anyway; they are even more overwhelming in a foreign language. Your friend is so cuddly, though, you physically can't rip yourself off of his warm embrace. Beomgyu's head is leaning on top of yours, sometimes rubbing himself into your hair like a cat. Overall, the brunette is very slim, his shoulder a bit bony against your temple. His bicep, however, protectively wrapped around your shoulders, is nice and firm. He recently started hitting the gym again, and you can tell. He looks really hot lately.
"Hey." He whispers, low enough that the others can't catch it, loud enough for you to understand. "What book are you reading right now?"
The drink you sip on is a water bottle, since you decided to sober up a few moments ago. However, the body needs a while to digest the alcohol, hydrated or not. You clearly aren't fully sober yet, as you bluntly talk about the plot. "I am reading "Lights Out", it's a book about a nurse who likes a content creator. He always wears a mask in his videos; they are a bit perverted." You summarize the subject matter, unsure how to describe a "thirst trap" in Korean and too gone to think about it. "One day, he breaks into her house because he knows her in real life and has a crush. Yada yada... skipping some stuff, they have sex while he wears the mask to hide his identity. He is a bit mean to her in bed, but that's not scary; it's sexy, because he likes her, you know? He doesn't want to hurt her and knows she is into these things, because she kept commenting under his videos." You spare him the rest of the book, just realizing mid-ramble how crazy and inappropriate you sound. He doesn't react for a moment; his fingers, which have been stroking the plush of your hips, halt.
"You..." He begins, sounding unsure. "You like that stuff?" You can feel his head turn on top of yours, away from the crowd, deeper into the cushions behind you.
"I don't... know..." You mumble, also growing self-conscious now. "I mean, it's not... rape... You know? She recognized him by his mask, and they texted on social media before anything happened. She didn't know the identity at first, but she was sure it was the content creator she had been following. I wouldn't sleep with a guy whom I don't recognize!" Your voice rises at the end just slightly, just to dip lower again for the last sentence. "But the uncertainty is... hot..."
You hear him swallow. "And you also like how rough he got?" His fingernails clench into your hip.
"He wasn't hurting her!" You rebutted, panicked, feeling a bit defensive. Beomgyu raises his head, his other hand grabbing your chin to make you look at him.
"That's not what I said." He replies, stern eyes searching for something in yours. "I asked if you like it rough." The last part is accentuated, as his voice drops lower. This time, it's not from a cough, though.
You lower your gaze, anyway. "He likes her. And he doesn't know what to do with himself." You start to justify yourself. "So it's fine if he gets a bit... frustrated."
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A few days have passed since you humiliated yourself at that house party. You have absolutely shared too much about yourself, especially with Beomgyu. You can tell you made him uncomfortable due to the limited communication you had with him since then. Usually, you'd chat a lot, occasionally game a bit over a phone call if both of your jobs allowed it... But it has been near crickets since last weekend.
You had been working yourself up about it the past nights, but this can't go on. You need to get your thoughts in order, and then you can apologize to Beomgyu. Tonight calls for a self-care night, you think, stripping yourself to take an everything-shower.
After getting out, you put on your favorite pajama set, a cute tank top, and some shorts. Just as you start to work on some hot tea, someone knocks on the front door of your apartment. It's late, you don't expect anyone, but you just waltz towards the noise and open the door without a second thought, with your feigned optimism for tonight.
You immediately regret this decision, as your body shudders in angst before you can even compute what is happening in front of you. A tall yet slim man, in a black T-Shirt, sweatpants, and a pair of beat-up sneakers, stands in front of you, a mask you recognize from somewhere hiding his face.
"Do I know you?" You ask, immediately realizing how idiotic your reaction is. A killer wouldn't tell you his full government name, even if he planned to kill you, you remind yourself.
"I wouldn't have knocked if I planned to hurt you." He tells you plainly, clearly noticing your fear. His hands ball into fists just to stretch his fingers right after, failing to hide his own nerves as well. You would recognize this voice even in a crowd, anyway.
"Well..." You say, stepping aside to let Beomgyu inside. You expect him to take the mask off with a sly joke about your pervy books, breaking the ice, just as he usually would in uncomfortable situations that he wants to resolve. What you didn't expect was for him to slam the door shut with a bang, keeping the mask on.
Both of you are silent as he turns the lock behind him.
He swiftly slips his sneakers off, walking towards you. "This is how easily you let strange men inside, huh?" He asks, trailing after you as you begin to take a few steps back. He starts to tower over you, decreasing the distance. His pointy shoulders accentuate his size, especially in comparison to yours, as he grabs them with both hands to stop you from walking away. "You're a naughty little thing..." He mumbles, leaning down. The plastic around his nose is just a few centimeters away from your face.
"I recognize your voice." You defend yourself with a weak voice, knees wobbling. You are emotionally, mentally, and physically unsure if you should react with arousal or fright.
"How can you be sure?" He questions, turning you around just to force you with your back against the wall of your hallway, fixating you with his thigh between your legs. He adds, five long fingers trailing up your throat behind your ear, to cup your head.
"You told me you wouldn't hurt me." You whimper, feeling your cunt stick meekly against your panties.
"That's reason enough to let an intruder inside?" His deep voice mumbles behind the mask, the other hand trailing down your upper body. His thumb barely grazes your nipple, thinly covered by the cotton of your top. You bite your lower lip in retaliation, your own nails digging into the strained muscles of his biceps. After making a point by squeezing your waistline, he dips his four fingers under the band of your shorts, pushing them down your hipbones. He continues. "I didn't think you'd be this naive..."
You breathe hard, head spinning. Your best friend surprised you at your front door in the middle of the night, wearing a mask from some horror franchise, hand inside your pants... And your clit pulsates between your folds, just waiting to be caressed by him.
This is too good to be true, you think, you definitely should use this opportunity and play along.
"I'm sorry..." You apologize, turning your head to the side with a pout. "I couldn't help myself." Your voice is airy, putting on a bit of a show.
You didn't know what to expect, but it definitely wasn't that he'd groan. You knew his voice was naturally a bit on the deeper side, especially if he spoke comfortably in his dialect, but you had never heard such an animalistic sound leave your otherwise timid friend.
You're not the only one turned on by this.
Despite your mocking thoughts, you're the one left whining as he pulls his warm hands out of your shorts. He steps back, but before you can protest, you feel his slender fingers cupping your butt cheeks from below, lifting you up in one swift heave. You wrap your arms around his neck, your face clumsily leaning against the cold mask to steady yourself (and your nerves).
Confident strides take you to your bedroom, further confirming the masked man is your bestie who has been inside your apartment plenty of times before. Of course, you are comforted by the fact that you didn't actually allow a stranger inside your living space as he implied, but that you are aroused that it's Beomgyu still caught you a bit off guard.
He carefully sets you down, raising his hands to cup your cheeks, squeezing them together a bit. You are staring into whatever is left to see of his eyes, a net obscuring the dark orbs you love to get lost in usually. You can see how excited, or perhaps nervous, he is by the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He speaks up again after clearing his throat. "You'll learn how reckless you are being..." His voice trembles as he takes a step back to sit down on the cushions of your bed, pushing his dark hair back. The sleeve he's wearing underneath the disguise doesn't cover any of the long strands or his ears, allowing you to tell how red they are getting. He continues, leaning back a bit. "Take off your clothes."
You swallow at the command. He isn't being particularly assertive, but something in you still makes you want to follow his order. Maybe you have wanted to fuck your best friend all this time. Who could blame you?
Despite your heavy breathing, you are gathering all your courage, just as he is, and shyly begin by lifting the fabric of the top up closer to your boobs.
He is patient. Even though you can't see his face, you know he is following you attentively. Before you allow your heart to sink into your pants, you lift the thin cotton over your head and discard it onto the lower end of the bed. Your nipples are already erect, putting yourself a bit on display as you squeeze your tits closer together, leaning forward to pull down your bottoms. Beomgyu's labored breathing gives you the final boost of confidence you need to finally roll them over your hips, stepping out to stand nude in front of him.
You rub your thighs together, growing increasingly embarrassed, looking into the blank stare of the mask.
"Mhh..." He begins, after a moment of torturous silence.
"Maybe you're not naughty..." He mumbles, spreading his legs.
"Or naive..." He unties his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down his pelvis.
"But just a bit dumb?" He asks, his thick, veiny cock jumping out of his undies, already leaking.
The size of that thing already breaks you, your walls fluttering against nothing just at the thought of him bullying it into you. You guessed he was packing, but not like this.
Beomgyu's chest rises and falls hectically, but he's trying to keep his composure as he begins to slowly stroke his dick to the sight of your bare body. Your mouth is watering at the way his long fingers fully engulf the girthy base of his cock, how he trails them up his shaft just to twist his wrist over the pink-ish head. Before you can help yourself, you are dropping to your knees, opening your mouth, and sticking out your tongue in need.
You can actually hear him let out a breath he seemed to be holding all this time, still trembling as he pulls you closer by the back of your head. You prop your body up by holding onto his thighs, as he slowly drags your mouth towards the tip of his dick. The moment your pointed tongue meets the salty hole of his cock, his abs and grip simultaneously tighten. He pulls you further down, carefully not to choke you with his length. You don't need to do any work, since he's bobbing your head up and down his tip by your hair, gradually building up a rhythm that seems to be getting him to release. He is holding back his noises, only allowing you to listen to his breathing and the occasional groan. Your throat burns at the stretch, your head dizzy as you're barely able to breathe through your nose. You try to look up with teary eyes, almost a bit disappointed to only see the mask staring back down at you with its unchanged expression.
You are wondering what kind of faces Beomgyu is making right now... Is he close?
A couple more bobs down his shaft before he finally pulls you off of him, only letting you take one deep breath before whipping his other, free hand across your cheek. You cry out at the impact, a stinging pain shooting through your face, forcing tears into your waterline. "Who else are you allowing to use you like this?" He practically spits, sounding surprisingly upset despite getting his cock worshipped just before. You just look at him with big eyes, neither reacting nor answering, making him steady your head by your hair and strike the same cheek yet again.
"Answer me!" He urges you, a burn pooling at your hair follicles due to the tension.
"No one!" You reply, in haste, your neglected pussy cooling at the air, twitching in arousal. "I have told you... I am not sleeping with anyone I don't recognize!" You are reusing your words from last weekend, not pretending to not know it's his cock you are watching jerk right in front of you.
You are more bothered by the mask's neutrality than you would have anticipated, especially in moments like these. It makes you wonder how mad he actually is with you.
It makes you second-guess why he is putting his rock-hard cock back into his pants, slowly scooting off the bed to crouch next to you on the floor.
He is telling you something, presumably an order, but the only word you really understand is 'bed'. Your body is shaking, head spinning, cunt aching; your brain has officially malfunctioned. Did the shake from the slaps loosen any screws? Or has the growing knot inside your lower belly taken over your body? You are actually proud of yourself for perfectly understanding everything up until this point; a misunderstanding was sort of bound to happen eventually.
Normally, if you didn't quite catch what Beomgyu told you, you'd sheepishly ask him to elaborate. He would catch on and use simpler terms to explain what he had meant to say. This, however, is not a 'normal situation'. You're just staring at him, unsure how to react. You realize he is not nearly as understanding as he would otherwise be.
"Y/n." His voice is no longer trembling, no longer sounding hesitant. He sounds threatening. Sweetly, deliciously, threatening.
He swears. "Listen to what I am fucking saying."
He uses one of his big hands to push you down by your shoulder blades, forcing you to lean over your mattress with your upper body.
"Stay down and take it." He slurs into your ear, hovering over you for a moment just to pull back.
"You're a dumb girl..." Beomgyu starts, not allowing you a second to digest what he has called you yet again before he swings his flat hand back and whips it over your bare ass, striking the sensitive skin closest to your heat.
"Who lets any man fuck your throat..." He continues, hitting the same spot again. His other hand holds down your lower back as you whine and squirm under the pain.
"As long as they remind you of your best friend?" Finishing his question with one hard slap against your dripping pussy. The sharp, wet smack sends bolts of pleasure up your body, leaving your thighs shaking in want.
The fact that he is practically competing with himself leaves you confused and turned on at the same time. He's trying to make you question his identity, apparently not even realizing that no one else but him has had this conversation with you. Oddly, your heart swells; something must be seriously wrong with you for finding this cute right now. You are still welcoming this possessive side, though. You edge him on by wiggling your hips side to side, wanting more, more of whatever he is going to give you.
Beomgyu lets out a low groan again, using both hands to spread your butt cheeks, one thumb rolling down the side of your folds.
"I want him so badly..." You whimper, feeling your own eyes roll slightly inside your skull, feeling him tease the thin strip of skin between your two holes with the same digit. You admit it, to him and to yourself as well. "I want no one but him."
A moment of silence falls over you, yet again, leaving you wringing in this uncomfortable need as his movements halt. You can feel your slick running down your thighs.
"Say that again." He demands.
"I want Beomgyu-oppa." You specify in a sickly sweet tone that'd normally embarrass you, clenching your hole desperately.
"Again." He growls, one hand leaving your body cold, just one toying with the opening of your heat.
"Oppa, please fuck me!" You whine, tired of the game, just eager to feel this huge cock against your cervix.
He pushes you up by your hips, physically urging you to fully climb onto the bed. You immediately scurry on top of the mattress, spreading your legs like a bitch in heat, presenting everything you've got.
You hear him rustling, followed by one singular thud against your bedroom carpet, as he speaks up one last time. He stresses. "Keep your eyes closed." You make a noise of agreement, as you feel his pointed tongue explore the exposed inner folds of your cunt.
You moan, shamelessly, rubbing your lower body against his face. He holds you close by your hips, the tip of his big nose dipping inside you just the tiniest bit. His lips find your clit, taking it just between them to suck at the bundle of nerves. You feel him vibrate against your sensitive bits every time you cry louder for him, his thumb back at its antics as it circles your anus. He lets go of your protesting body just a moment to take one, audibly, big breath before diving straight back in.
"You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do this." He slurs against your aching heat, squeezing your thighs around his cheeks to close the last remaining distance between the two of you. This time, he tortures you with his flattened tongue, rubbing it up and down your puffy pussy. It doesn't take more than a few more laps of his greedy, slick muscle until you shake against his mouth and cramp around his head. You orgasm all over his face, hole gushing around his nose, burying your own into your bed sheet.
You breathe hard, barely gathering yourself before finally feeling the fat tip of his dick against your entrance. One hand on your hip, the other placed next to your waist, allowing you to feel the looming presence of his body over your submissively hunched form.
"Since my pretty girl asked so nicely..." He mumbles, dragging his length through the wetness between your legs, whimpering every time he dips in tauntingly.
His sweet noises you can finally hear clearly, the soft rubbing against your almost overly stimulated heat, the cottony feeling inside your brain almost seriously made you grow dumb. But cold, sick clarity washes over you just before you allow him to bury himself entirely.
You whimper, almost too weak to confess. "I am not on birth control." Offended by your own words, you whine, shaking against his hips as you roll your own back. "Oppa, do you have a condom?"
The hand that has kept you steady by the plush of your hip, that one hand that seems to hate leaving that spot, digs deeper into your skin. He clears his throat.
"No, I don't." He admits.
Another round of silence, as you try to use the last remaining shreds of cognition you must have left to come up with a solution. You turn your head to the side, not looking at him as promised, just trying to catch some clearer air.
You almost choke on it, though, as you feel him push inside.
His girth stretches the tight muscle, his upper body almost lying down on top of yours, trapping you under him as he carefully begins to bottom out. His warm lips close to your ears, whisper. "I'll pull out in time, okay baby?" Your wet walls expand as much as they can without barely any preparation, a sting travelling down your thighs. Tears form inside your waterline as you try to relax your core for him. He coos. "It'll be okay..." You're unsure if he's all the way inside; you didn't feel his balls slap against your heat yet, but he has started to slowly rock back and forth. Beomgyu places open-mouth kisses up your neck, back to your ear, nibbling at the thin skin behind it. He questions with a soft voice. "You're only mine; it shouldn't be a problem if I fucked you raw, mh?"
His deep yet cute voice, with this teeny-tiny lisp, is too die for.
You shake your head, eyes obediently closed. You confirm, stomach tingling in anticipation, pain turning into pleasure. "I'm yours, only yours."
One more cautious thrust, and you finally feel his heavy sack jiggle against your pelvis. With his mouth so close to your ear, he fails to hide the quiet moans spilling out of his throat as he begins to snap his hip into yours, finally increasing his speed. His veins rub against your gummy walls, leaving no space.
If his dizzying size wasn't enough to see stars, he keeps on babbling on, growing even more pussy drunk than he already seemed to be.
Beomgyu confesses. "I liked you all this god damn time, baby." He raises one leg, wrapping it around your hip and thrusting into you with a bit of an angle, ultimately whining right into your neck as he buries his face in it.
Your best friend, as of yesterday, continues. "I have been fucking my fist every night, imagining this delicious pussy." His long brunette hair tickles your face.
You don't understand everything he is mumbling against your skin, but you guess it's all in the same vein. He groans. "You have been mine all this time. You realized this, right?" Beomgyu increases his speed, rewarding you despite your yelping with a few more kisses. "Your cute body is made for me. My sexy girl."
In one swift motion, too quick for your foggy brain to comprehend, Beomgyu pulls out and turns you around, making you lie on your back. Each hand pushes one respective knee towards your chest, forcing you into the mating press position as his fat cock rams into you relentlessly. Your moan, another bolt of hurt shooting through your cunt, this time up your belly, mixing with the growing arousal.
The surprise makes you rip your eyes open. You can see his face. His pretty face, contorted into a huge, lustful grin, hazy eyes flickering over your nude body, sweaty bangs framing his cheekbones.
You moan at the sight, the throbbing in your muscle quickly replaced by a needy tingle.
You are more than just aroused that it's Beomgyu, your former best friend, fucking any sense out of you; you are so glad he finally found the courage to.
After a moment of sensual eye contact, indulging in each other's faces, he picks his speedy, rough rhythm right back up, leaning back over you yet again. Your hard nipples rub against the soft fabric of his shirt every time he thrusts into you. Beomgyu's pulsating tip bullies your g-spot just to slip right past it, kissing your cervix. The hollow agony deep inside your body pleases you in a way you have never felt before.
His expression grows serious at his next admission, furrowing his deep-set, thick brows. "I hated how all the guys looked at you during the game." You raise your arms, wrapping them around his neck to pull him closer, lips faintly touching as he continues his next sentence. "As if you were a piece of meat." One of his hands reaches up to cup your cheeks, lifting your chin unbelievably nearer. "Only I get to have you like that."
With one stern tug, you finally close the distance, pressing your lips onto his plump ones with a desperate, needy whine.
His hips stutter against yours, an airy wince escaping his throat as he hastily pulls his cock out, barely in time. His heavy dick falls on top of your pelvis, spurting angrily hot ropes of milky cum up your stomach, even painting your tits in white.
He breathes heavily, obviously flustered at his rather quick and sudden orgasm. You, too, are catching your breath, wriggling your hips at the sudden hollow feeling. Beomgyu lets go of you as you let your own arms fall to the side, collapsing next to you, rolling onto his back as well.
You finally stretch your legs, groaning as you feel the blood rush back into your feet.
Beomgyu chuckles at you, the first to break the comfortable silence. "I heard you like it a bit on the rougher side." You both simultaneously turn your heads to cross eyes, affection swimming in his. He continues, his hesitancy returning. "I hope it wasn't too much."
You smile at him. One of those that light up your entire face, making your eyes crinkle. You respond, leaning into his side comfortably. "Oppa, that was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me, in my entire life." You kiss him a second time. A quick, soft peck before you add. "I like to have soft, romantic sex with my boyfriend as well, though."
You can't even describe the noise of joy that leaves his lungs before he tackles your bare body and stains his sweaty and drenched clothes with his own cum.
alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:
1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..
2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.
at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.
i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️
and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.
hi!!! so i was reading kinktober 24 fics and i really really loved somnophilia w vamp gyu i was wondering if u could write some more vamp!gyu stuff
hello, yes, I love vampires and I love beomgyu, absolutely <3 (this isn't smutty per-se, but I'll be down to write nsfw vampire!gyu as well of course)
cw vampire!범규 x reader (f) stalking prey/predator he almost kills her uh, a little pervy? I mean he smells her pillow and her clothes vampire yearning mmm
vampire!범규 tracks your scent for weeks, an endless search through mountains, oceans and woods. he tells himself it's the thrill of the hunt that pulls him in, tells himself that he's only satiating the primal side of himself — the side he keeps tucked away to preserve the connections he's managed to build within the human world.
vampire!범규 doesn't question the fact that he no longer finds himself enticed by blood that isn't yours. doesn't let his search waver even when hunger claws at his throat, doesn't stop to feed even when he knows he should — how could he? when the mere thought of another human's blood makes him turn his nose in disgust.
vampire!범규 finally finds you after nearly two months of relentless searching. your scent is stronger here — pungent — and beomgyu is starving. you're not home, that's okay, he can wait, he has waited for weeks after all, a few hours won't kill him.
vampire!범규 turns your bedroom upside down. he flips through your dresser, clawed fingers caressing the clothes there. he spends a long time in your bed, rubbing the soft duvet over his cold skin. he has not needed air for centuries, yet he takes deep breaths through parted lips as he drinks in your smell. heaven is lost on a monster like him, but beomgyu thinks he might have been granted a small sliver of it as he inhales your scent on the pillow clutched in his hands.
vampire!범규 perks up the second he hears the front door unlock, his previously dilated pupils narrowing into slits at the prospect of finally having you. he slinks out of bed, leaving behind the human-warmth he hadn't allowed himself to feel in so long. the shadows engulf him easily and he follows the delectable sound of your heart, beating steadily in your chest — completely unaware of the danger that lingers just out of sight.
vampire!범규 usually loves it when they scream, when they beg for their lives up until the very second he takes it. he used to thrive on the tears, the fear, the protests, the challenge of having someone fight him — even when their fate was already sealed. and yet... your terror makes him pause. his fangs are bared and glistening with saliva, they hover just inches from your throat. your face is trapped in one of his mean hands, neck delicately exposed for his taking, but beomgyu finds that he cannot.
vampire!범규 clumsily wipes your tears, frowning when you flinch back like you expect to be struck. he opens his mouth to speak, flashing you the same fangs intended to kill and you shriek as you scramble backward. frustrated he grabs you, not to hurt, but to keep close. after weeks of tracking you he cannot bear the thought of losing you. so he holds on tight as you struggle against his grip, hoping that exhaustion will take its toll on your weak human body.
vampire!범규 accepts that he is a failure and to everyone of his kind. he's been tracking your scent for weeks and when he finally closes in on his prey he cannot bring himself to do what he is meant to. beomgyu accepts this fact when you pass out from fear in his arms, your flailing limbs going lax against his chest. he accepts it when he carries you to bed and lays you down on the duvet.
vampire!범규 watches you sleep that night, crimson eyes focused on the steady rise and fall of your torso, his entire world narrowed down into your next exhale. he'll wait until you wake, he'll wait for the terror to ebb away, he'll wait for you to let him close. he'll wait however long it takes — he'll wait for the day you look at him as something other than the monster he's always claimed to be — and perhaps then, he'll allow himself a taste.
99 problems, but a wet dream ain’t one | katsuki b.
summary: katsuki had a wet dream about you — and now he can’t get the image out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. and when you find out? you’re sure as hell not making it easy for him.
warnings: best friend!katsuki, best friend!reader, reader is shameless, reader is down BAD, teasing, flirting, cursing, dirty talk, wet dream, smut, blowjob, gagging, spit, dom!katsuki, bratty!sub!reader, degradation, “this is a bad idea” typa fic, MDNI;
wc: 2,3k
Katsuki Bakugou has a best friend problem.
And it isn’t the kind of problem that can be solved by just talking about it, like normal friends do.
No. This is pretty difficult to solve.
Why?
One, because Katsuki doesn’t even talk about feelings or problems most of the time. He just bottles them up until something new appears and then forgets about whatever bothered him before.
And two, he definitely won’t talk about how a wet dream with his best friend made him feel.
Yeah. A wet dream.
He hasn’t had one of those since he was a fucking teenager, and it makes him feel so stupid. He is a grown man, for God’s sake. An established pro-hero. A respected one. And more recently?
A fucking loser.
A loser who now struggles to even meet your eyes while you’re having a simple conversation, because every time he does, he remembers how you looked in his dream — naked and sweaty and so fucking eager to suck him off.
And of fucking course his mind wanders further—
Would your mouth feel that good in reality?
Would it turn him on that much to have you on your knees between his legs?
Would your moans really sound that divine while doing your best to bring him towards pleasure?
Will—
“Earth to Katsukiii,” you suddenly speak, waving a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him jolt slightly, his body shifting backwards on the couch.
“What!?” His head snaps towards you instantly, his hand coming up to slap yours away, ignoring the warmth that lingers from the brief contact.
“I have been talking to you,” you frown, scooching closer to him, leaning forward slightly, trying to catch his gaze. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothin’,” he shrugs, but his body tenses the moment your chest brushes against his arm.
“You’re even pissier than usual,” you remark with a raised brow, studying him carefully. He scoffs.
“You’re imagining things,” he replies way too fast.
You frown deeper, squinting your eyes as you shift even closer, intentionally closing the space between you. You don’t miss the way he immediately leans away.
“Why do you run from me?” you ask, tilting your head.
“I like my space, weirdo,” he mutters under his breath.
“I like your space too,” you tease, nudging your knee against his.
He instantly moves his knee away.
“Shut up and watch this damn movie,” he rolls his eyes, trying to focus anywhere but you.
“Kats.”
No answer.
“Katsuki,” you insist again, leaning in and poking his cheek with your finger.
You feel it — the tension.
You notice the way his hands curl, palms balling into fists as he takes a slow, deep breath, clearly trying to keep himself together.
“What’s up with you?” you push again, your voice softer this time, but more insistent. You move even closer, until he’s practically cornered at the end of the couch, your body fully pressing into his.
“Tell meee,” you drag out, nudging him lightly. “What’s bothering you?”
“You’re bothering me,” he finally snaps, his tone sharp and annoyed, making you blink in surprise. “Even in my fuckin’ dreams,” he adds with a frustrated groan, dragging a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already was.
“What?” you ask, caught off guard. “You dreamt about me?”
“Are you deaf?” he rolls his eyes, letting out a short, dry chuckle.
Then—
Something shifts.
A slow, almost mischievous grin spreads across your lips.
“What kind of dream did you have?” you ask, lowering your voice slightly as you lean closer, your gaze locking onto his.
Before he can react, you move.
In one smooth motion, you swing your leg over him, then the other, settling yourself directly in his lap, your thighs resting on either side of his muscular legs.
His mouth parts slightly, frozen halfway open, one eye twitching as he stares up at you, completely caught off guard.
“Come on,” you push again, shifting slightly on his lap, your clothed core brushing against his crotch through his jeans.
“Did you have a wet dream?” you ask playfully, clearly teasing, not thinking anything of it — but the moment he flinches, looking away instead of snapping back at you, your smile falters just a bit.
“Did you really have a wet dream of me?” you ask again, this time more serious, your eyes searching his face.
“Piss off,” he mutters, avoiding your gaze.
“Oh my god… I want to know right now,” you nudge him again, more insistent this time.
“I ain’t telling you shit, now get off of me,” he says, though his hands find your hips, gripping them instinctively.
You place your hands over his, pressing them down, smirking slightly.
“You know… if you tell me what it was about… maybe I can help,” you shrug casually, as if you didn’t just drop that.
He stares at you, completely dumbfounded, like you just said the most insane thing he’s ever heard.
“You gotta be joking,” he says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Why would I be? It’s not like I don’t find you hot or anything,” you add, shifting slightly again in his lap.
That stirrs something in him.
He hisses under his breath, his grip on your hips tightening without him even realizing it.
“I’m still not telling you,” he mumbles, jaw clenching.
“Okay…” you hum. “I’ll guess.”
You take a moment to think, then—
“Was I on all fours? Were you fucking me from the back? I know you like doggy style… or maybe something else? Like missionary? Or cowgirl?” you ramble, mostly to yourself, watching his reactions closely. “How about—“
“It was a goddamn blowjob, now shut up,” he groans, his head falling back against the couch with a dull thud.
“Oh,” you pause, blinking. “A blowjob,” you repeat thoughtfully, tilting your head slightly.
“How was I able to fit all of that in my mouth?” you add, genuinely thinking about it.
He groans louder this time, hands leaving your hops and dragging them down his face.
“You are killing me, woman,” he mutters, voice strained, making you giggle softly.
“So you want it?” you ask, watching him closely.
He makes a pause, completely baffled.
Then—
“The hell? Who asks their best friend to suck them off?” he snaps, glaring at you.
“Who dreams of their best friend sucking them off?” you shoot back instantly, raising a brow.
“Smartass,” he scoffs.
“Pervert.”
“Oh, I’m the pervert? Not you, who’s been grinding on me for the past minutes?” he shoots back.
“I only suggested it because you seem stressed lately,” you say, your tone softer now, but still teasing. “And you clearly don’t wanna talk about feelings. Maybe I can help some… other way… you know?”
He goes quiet.
Really quiet.
His brows pull together as he stares at you, his expression shifting into something more serious, more conflicted — something you can’t quite read.
You’ve never seen that look on him before.
Not like this.
There’s hesitation.
Something heavy sits behind his eyes.
“You better not make me regret this,” he mutters finally, his voice lower now.
Your brows lift slightly, tilting your head. You didn’t know what to make of this words.
“Wha— what?”
His hands tighten on your hips, making you shift against his crotch for the nth time.
“Get on your knees.”
“Now?” You ask baffled.
“Yes, now. I’m in the mood and it’s your fault,” he reminds you.
You bite your lip to repress a smile.
Instead of a snarky comment, you just nod quietly and get off his lap. He spreads his legs wider the moment you move, watching you closely as you lower yourself onto your knees, settling between his muscular thighs.
Your palms come up to touch them, fingers gripping the material of his jeans as you slowly move them up and down, feeling the tension in his body, trying to ease it just a little.
You take your time.
Slowly moving upward, dragging it out, making it feel like it takes forever to reach his crotch… then his belt.
You start unbuckling it, your movements slow, all while looking up at him — watching the way he stares down at you, jaw tight, lips pressed together, hands resting stiffly at his sides.
You slide the belt out of the way, then undo his zipper, finally revealing his black boxers. Something hard brushes against your hand and he hisses above you, his breath catching.
Your fingers dip under the material and drag it down, exposing his happy trail that leads down to his cock. His own hands come down to help, pushing his jeans and boxers lower, lifting his hips just enough. The fabric bunches at his thighs, out of the way.
And then—
His cock springs free.
Long. Thick. Prominent veins running along the length of it. The tip flushed a reddish color, already leaking with pre-cum.
“C’mon, dig in,” he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips as his hand comes to tangle in your hair, pushing you slightly forward.
You don’t rush.
You lean in slowly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling the way he reacts instantly — his breath hitching, a quiet hiss slipping past his lips as you glance up at him through your lashes.
Your tongue slides out, dragging along his length, long, intentional strokes, collecting the pre-cum as you go. His fingers tighten in your hair.
“Don’t— be such a tease, damn it,” he grits out, voice rougher now, the veins in his neck more visible as he looks down at you.
You let out a quiet chuckle, but you give in.
Enough teasing.
You part your lips and guide him in, taking him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, relaxing your jaw as you go, until the tip presses against the back of your throat.
You pause there for a second, breathing steadily through your nose, adjusting — letting your body relax around him.
Then you start moving.
Slow at first.
Pulling back just enough before taking him in again, setting a rhythm, your tongue flattening along the underside, tracing the veins, working with each movement.
Spit and pre-cum mix together, making everything smoother, your lips sealing tightly around him.
All the while, your eyes stay on him.
Watching everything.
The way his teeth catch his lower lip. The flare of his nostrils. The crease forming between his brows as he tries to hold himself together. Low grunts slip past his lips, restrained, controlled — but you can tell he’s holding back.
That only makes you pick up the pace.
Your head starts bobbing more steadily, your movements more confident, more precise. Tears sting lightly at your eyes from the burn of your throat, but you don’t stop — you just adjust your breathing, keeping the rhythm consistent.
You want to hear him.
Really hear him.
“You happy now?” he asks, breath uneven, voice rough. “Having a mouth full of me?”
You let out a muffled moan around him in response, the vibration traveling through him as your tongue moves again, your pace never faltering.
“You greedy brat,” he chuckles, though his voice strains. He knows you — you like this, like putting on a show, like pulling reactions out of him.
His hips twitch upward when you increase your speed, your nails digging slightly into his thighs to steady yourself as his fingers tighten in your hair.
Sweat starts to bead at his forehead, sliding down as strands of blond hair stick to his skin.
“Mhm— keep— keep going,” he finally groans, his control slipping just a bit more.
You keep the same pace, consistent, precise, working him up without losing rhythm, your tongue and lips working together, spit and pre-cum already dripping down your chin. But is all worth it when you feel it—
The twitch.
The tension building.
A few more precise movements, a slight change in pressure, and then—
He breaks.
“Fuck, fuck, gonn a—“
His words are cut off as a low, deep moan escapes him. He releases, his body tensing as he spills hot loads of cum into your mouth. He closes his eyes at the feeling, barely able to keep his lips sealed.
For a moment, he doesn’t move, his orgasm washing over him, then — he finally looks at you. You were still on your knees, still sucking and slurping like your life depended on it.
“Fuckin’ hell— you’re takin’ everything,” he lets out a weak, breathy laugh. And it was true, you make sure to not let anything go to waste.
You suck him dry.
And he lets you — for a short while.
Only when the sensitivity kicks in does he tug at your hair, trying to catch his breath and helping you catch yours.
“Shit— too much—” he groans, needing another second to breathe, to recover as you pull away, licking your lips slowly, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand as you look up at him.
Taking him in.
He’s leaned back against the couch now, hair messy, chest rising and falling steadily, his cock flushed and glistening, resting against his stomach now. His pants and boxers are still pushed down around his thighs as he spreads his legs, taking a lot of space like usual.
But he wasn’t the only one looking messy… he noticed your state too.
And fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Your hair was deshiveled from his grabbing, your cheeks were flushed, lips plump and glistening with fluids… you looked so fucking pretty like this — on your knees for him, having his cum down your throat and looking at him with teary eyes — a sign of how hard you tried to take him.
You remain on the floor even if it wasn’t the most comfortable place, still close to him.
“So…” you finally break the silence softly.
His eyes snap back to yours, still catching his breath.
“Was this better than your dream?” you ask with a raised brow and a teasing grin.
But he won’t give you want to want. He already gave you enough.
He just scoffs at your question, rolling his head slightly to the side, trying to hide his smile.
18+ (smut)
wc: 3.3k
warnings: drunk sex, torn underwear
from this request
Dr. Spencer Reid is drunk.
Surrounded by his team in a booth in a dark and dingy bar. Tie loosened and hair mussed from running his fingers through it. His cheeks feature a healthy, pink glow.
He’s been trying to compose a text to his girlfriend for twenty minutes. Distracted by the conversations around him and frustrated with the small, blurry keyboard, he’s only managed to type i lov nd mis u
While attempting to hold a conversation with Rossi about the evolution of forensic science over the last decade, a beautiful woman who looks suspiciously like his girlfriend appears in his periphery.
Dave has only had a respectable two glasses of Scotch, so he notices that the genius has tuned him out almost immediately.
“Looks like your keeper is here.” Dave cheekily teases.
With his head in his palm, Spencer says dreamily, “Yeah, the keeper of my heart.”
Spencer was banished to the aisle seat of the booth after clambering over Emily to go to the bathroom for the third time in thirty minutes. The second she’s within his arm's reach, he grabs her waist and tugs her toward him, resting his chin on her stomach. He looks up at her adoringly, his eyes rounded and sparkling, as she laughs. “You’re here!” he exclaims, beaming.
Tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear, she giggles, “I am!”
“I was trying to text you.” He pouts.
“It’s okay, Hotch told me you were ready to be picked up?”
He doesn’t remember telling Hotch that; how did he know? As he ponders what his girlfriend said, Penelope squeals her name from the corner of the booth.
As the women converse about… well, Spencer doesn’t know, because he’s too distracted by the feeling of her body under his palms.
At first, his thumbs rest in her belt loops, and his slender fingers span down the curve of her ass.
As she continues talking with his coworkers, his hands sink down her waist and to the curve of her ass. His fingers just barely brush her back pocket when she reaches behind her to grab his wrists, halting his movement, and lifts it back up to her waist.
He whines as she stops his movement and juts his lower lip into a pout. His desperate expression only gets more pathetic when she glares down at him.
After a few minutes, once she’s invested in her conversation again, he tries a new method. Placing a hand on the back of her leg, he slowly drags it up to the crease where ass meets thigh.
He internally cheers when she doesn’t stop him this time. Getting bolder, he slides his palm over to the inside of her thigh, gently squeezing the plushness. If he just slightly stretches his pinky, he can brush it against her–
“Okay! Time to take this one home before he falls asleep on me.”
That pushed her too far. He groans in denial, grumbling, “I’m not sleepy.”
“Mhm,” she hums as she pulls his arms to lift him from his seat.
He collapses against her body with the majority of his weight, and she groans as she tries to hold him up, “Spence, baby, I need you to help me.”
His head perks up like she’s said a magic word. She needs him to help her? Okay! With what? Right now? How can I help? It’s like she’s sounded the bell, and he’s one of Pavlov’s dogs.
They wave their goodbyes to the rest of the BAU. On the way out the door, he’s scuffling his feet and tripping every few steps – getting him into the cab should’ve counted as a workout.
He only gets more handsy in the back of the taxi. Straining on the seatbelt to pepper kisses down her jaw and neck. Fingers trailing higher and higher up her thigh.
Spencer really doesn’t drink often, and is rarely this bold in public, so she looks over to ask him, “You okay, honey?”
A flush paints his cheeks and fades down to his collar, partially due to the alcohol he’s ingested tonight and mostly due to her. “Mm, I like it when you call me honey.”
She lightly giggles at him, “I know you do, honey…” Grabbing his hand that’s getting dangerously close to between her legs, she intertwines their fingers. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh! Well, I do have a little problem…” He moves her hand to guide it over the bulge in his pants.
Side-eyeing the driver, she leans close to his ear, “That is not a little problem, and you know it,” as she gently squeezes.
He whines at her touch and tilts his hips forward. The driver looks back at them through the rear-view mirror with furrowed brows. She gives him a polite smile as if her palm isn’t pressing on her boyfriend’s semi in the man’s backseat.
Spencer continues to try to touch her and have her touch him throughout the remainder of the car ride. Her promises to take care of him once they get home fall on deaf ears. The only thing on his mind is her, her, her, her, her.
He eventually huffs and leans back in the seat with his arms crossed, pouting. She’s torturing him. It’s not fair.
He’s vibrating with excitement as she pushes their front door open, finally. The second they’ve crossed the threshold, he’s grabbing her face and pulling her into a frantic and messy kiss. She gasps into his mouth, and he smirks against hers.
With one hand on the base of her neck, he skims down her back and waist with the other until he reaches her ass, unapologetically squeezing her. He pulls her flush with his body, lightly moaning when his aching cock presses against her hip.
He needs her.
She tries to retreat from the kiss, but he follows her fleeing lips until she rests her palms on his shoulders, gently pushing him back. “Spence, we shouldn’t.”
With hands sadly falling to his sides, he frowns, “What? Why not?”
“You’re drunk, it’s not right. I’ll feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
He tries to lean in to kiss her again, to convince her that he wants this, needs this. Her grip on him only tightens, causing him to emit a protestful whine.
“Please, baby. I want you. Please?” He shamelessly begs.
“I don’t know, honey…” She bites her lip as she trails off. Is she trying to kill him?
“Please? I consent. You won’t be taking advantage of me.”
Her head tilts as she gazes into his pleading eyes, “What if you regret it in the morning?”
His brows furrow in confusion. “I could never regret you. You’re the love of my life.” He rebuts, like it’s obvious. It should be, he thinks. Has he not made his devotion to her evident enough? Should he show her the ring in his–
“Okay.” She concedes. “But I’m only gonna do this,” She slides her hands down his chest to tug at his belt.
He groans theatrically. He really should take what he can get, but he wants way more than just her hand, albeit beautiful, wrapped around him.
Halting her fiddling with his pants, she asks, “Do you not want me to?”
“No– I mean, yes– I mean, no, I want more.” He stammers, shaking his head.
“Do you want my mouth instead?” She offers.
He wants to bang his head against the wall. Never could he have predicted that he’d be turning down a blowjob from her.
He shakes his head, “No.”
“Spence…”
“I want you to ride me in our bed.” Her eyebrows jump at his bluntness. “Please. Could you please ride me in our bed, please?” He tenderly runs his thumbs over the backs of her hands.
She sighs, “You’re drunk.”
"I don't want you because I'm drunk. I'm drunk and I want you." He looks at her in that impossibly earnest way that melts her heart.
“Plus!” He holds up his pointer finger. “I started thinking about it before I was drunk. Now, I’m just not embarrassed to bring it up…” He trails off, the blush on his cheeks getting darker.
He continues, “And you can say no. I’ll be a little sad and will probably sulk just a tad, but no means no… That’s all.”
She takes a step closer to him, “That’s all?”
His breath catches in his throat, and he quickly bobs his head, “Mhm.”
She nods, “Okay,” and takes another step towards him.
His heart is pounding in his chest, his eyes dart back and forth across hers. Breathlessly, he asks, “Okay?”
She moves close enough to brush her nose against his, and their breaths fan each other's faces. Spencer’s still has its usual strong minty aroma with only a tinge of whiskey peeking through. The scent of her cherry lip balm lingers and makes him feel light-headed. It’s taking all of his control and strength to not just kiss her.
She whispers, “I did promise to take care of you in the car,” before finally pressing her lips against his, gentle yet firm.
Spencer follows her lead, letting her set the pace, but his veins are thrumming with excitement and anticipation.
Once she deepens the kiss, slowly sliding her tongue against his, a desperate whine escapes him, but he still maintains his composure. Not pushing her or, rather, pulling her any closer towards him.
Gratefully for him, she moves his hands down to her hips, encouraging him to touch her. He can’t resist circling them around to her backside, squeezing and pulling her pelvis flush with his. He sighs at the relief of pressure from his throbbing dick; he’s been half-hard for her since she got to the bar to pick him up.
As the kiss continues, she wraps her arms around his neck, threading the fingers of one hand through the back of his hair. He unabashedly moans into her mouth, and her lips turn upward into a smile.
“Bedroom?” She whispers against his lips, and he immediately nods, eager and needy.
When she separates from him, leading him with their fingers tangled, he desperately keeps his other hand on her waist, not wanting her to get too far from him. He follows her into their bedroom, kissing her neck and whispering, “Thank you,” over and over.
Once they’re in their room, she rotates to kiss him, with immediate passion and fervor. He doesn’t notice that she’s steered them to the edge of the bed until she’s pushing him with a hand on his chest, and he drops backward onto their mattress.
As she yanks off her shirt and unbuttons her jeans, he intently watches with blown pupils. Biting his lip, he palms himself through his slacks at the vision of his girlfriend stripping for him. This is far from the first time that he’s seen her do this, but each time he witnesses it, he’s filled with gratitude and reverence. How did life lead him here? To her?
Left in just her bra and panties, she steps between his dangling legs, placing her hands on his cheeks. For the second time that night, she asks, “You okay, honey?”
He doesn’t answer. As he grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him, he falls on his back against their mattress. She giggles as they tumble, and the sound makes his heart sing a matching harmony. God, he loves her so much.
Their lips met again in a hungry kiss. As they retrace each other’s mouths, Spencer slides his hands up her back to skillfully unclasp her bra. It gets tossed to the floor, and he kneads and squeezes her breasts, swiping his thumbs over her nipples.
She lightly moans against him and grinds her hips down against his bulge. His head tilts back, and he grumbles a low, “Fuck.”
She bites her lower lip, concealing her entertained smile produced by his cursing. Drunk Spencer really has no filter.
Placing her hands on his chest, she continues circling her hips against him, and his palms tighten on her waist.
He inches his fingers across her thigh to the hem of her underwear, slipping under them until he’s met with her soaked folds.
As his fingers slide and caress her, she leans back to grant him better access, stabilizing herself with her hands on his knees.
“Baby,” she whines, tilting her hips upward in an attempt to show him where she needs him.
“I know, baby, I know.” He gruffs, frustrated with the constraint of her panties.
In a split-second decision, he tells her, “I’ll buy you new ones,” and before she can ask what he’s talking about, he’s tearing the lace. She looks down with a gasp at her now shredded panties.
“Oh my–” She cuts herself off with a moan; he’s sliding a finger in her entrance before she can fully process or say anything about what just happened.
He continues fingering her, eyes locked on the rapid rising and falling of her chest. Her head is tilted back, exposing her neck, and he wishes he could reach up to lick and kiss her there. She looks so beautiful and glorious like this.
One finger becomes two, and they can hear the wet squelching noise of her pussy with each thrust. As he curls his fingers upward, her arms get shaky from the pleasure.
“Fuck me, Spence…” She groans.
His lips twitch, “That’s the plan, baby.”
She rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, huffing out an amused laugh. A deep tension blooms in her belly as he continues his ministrations.
When he reaches his thumb up to her clit to rub smooth, slow circles, her thighs tremble against his hips.
She leans forward and grabs his wrist, “Fuck– Okay– I need you,” halting his movements.
Leaning down to kiss him, she unbuttons his pants and shimmies them down just enough to free his red, leaking, aching cock.
He groans as she wraps her soft hands around him, thrusting upward into her grip, “Mm, baby, please.”
After smearing his pre-cum over the head, she holds her hair back with the other hand and lets a string of spit drip onto him. His mouth falls open as she does this, eyes tracking the descent until it meets his dick. He’s so sensitive and desperate and enthralled that the slide of her saliva down his shaft has him moaning and whimpering.
Tossing the scrap of fabric that has become her panties onto the floor, she guides his tip to her entrance and slowly sinks down. They moan in tandem at the slick stretch.
Stabilizing herself with hands on his chest, she drops down until he’s buried deep inside of her, brows furrowed, and neck tilted back.
She then realizes something entirely stupid: he’s still wearing his tie and button-up. She groans and yanks on the fabric around his neck, throwing it, before making quick work on the buttons of his shirt, “Why are you even still wearing this?”
He can barely respond, his dick is finally where it’s meant to be, and she’s too frustrated with the barrier of his shirt to actually fuck him. He’s dizzy from the alcohol and the sensation of her tight, wet walls wrapped around him. He doesn’t know which variable is most responsible for making him feel this way anymore.
“You could’ve taken it off whenever you wanted,” he manages to gripe.
After unbuttoning just enough of his shirt to get her hands on his bare chest, she finally slowly rises and falls on his dick. His hands grip her hips, fingers pressing firmly into her ass. With a slack jaw, he groans, “Fuck– Yes– Thank you, baby.”
He continues babbling as she finds a steady rhythm, “Thank you so much, I love you so much, oh my God.”
His head rolls back and forth against the bed as she rides him into the mattress, broken moans and whimpers and whines escaping both of them with each plunge. Spencer soon guiltily realizes that he’s not helping her at all, so he assists in the movement of her hips with his hands and thrusts upward to match her pace.
Her nails scrape down his chest as the heat in her belly catches fire again. He hisses at the scratches, but he loves it when she does this, loves when the sharp pain blends with the intense pleasure.
“Shit– Baby– Not gonna last long–” He moans.
“Mm, ‘m close,” She agrees, moving a hand between her legs to sloppily rub her clit. He can feel the pulsing of her tight heat as her orgasm crests, and he’s clenching his jaw and hands to stop himself from cumming before she does. Even in his drunken state, her pleasure prioritizes his own.
“Fuck– Fuck– Fuck–” she chants and cries as everything starts to feel like too much. Her release coincides with a long, drawn-out, “Spencer…” and her eyes rolling to the back of her head.
Falling against his chest, panting, she continues a slow roll of her hips as he bursts inside of her with a raspy groan.
His body twitches and shivers as he cums, fingers slowly unlocking their tight grip on her waist. She won’t be surprised nor perturbed to find the shape of his fingerprints embedded in the skin there later.
His arms wrap around her back as his orgasm descends, caressing her warm skin. Burying his nose in her hair, he mumbles, “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
She lightly laughs in agreement, pressing a sweet kiss to his collarbone.
They lay as a panting tangle of limbs until she hears his breathing even out, and she glances up to see his eyes closed, “Spence?” She croons.
He doesn’t respond.
“Honey?” She chuckles.
Still nothing. If she couldn’t feel his breathing against her skin, she’d be worried.
She gently shakes his shoulder, and he inhales sharply, “Mm?”
“Did you seriously fall asleep? You’re still inside of me!” She feels his dick twitch ever so slightly against her walls.
“No, ‘m not asleep.” His voice is rough and croaky.
“Mhm,” She indulges his blatant fib.
They both wince as she rises off of him. He feels cold without her warm heat wrapped around him, and she feels empty. She slides off the bed, grimacing slightly at the stiffness in her hips.
He’s quite the vision lying like this: hair a frizzy mess, a pink tinge to his cheeks, shirt halfway unbuttoned, softening cock peeking out of his pants. The floor only adds to the scenery, clothes scattered about like the frame on a piece of art – Spencer, of course, being the art. She catches a glimpse of her torn underwear (she honestly forgot about it until she laid eyes on it) and shakes her head in amusement.
After slipping on a new pair of underwear and changing into one of his old tee-shirts, the hem falling to her mid-thigh, she gathers pajamas for him. He peeks his eyes open as she unbuttons the rest of his shirt, murmuring, “You’re so beautiful,” when he sees her in his clothes.
“Thank you, honey,” she grabs his hands, “Can you sit up for me?”
He groans, but lets her pull him upright. Slumping against her body like a rag doll, he wraps his arms around her waist.
She manages to maneuver him limb by limb until he’s changed into his sleep clothes. While they’re in the bathroom, lazily brushing their teeth, he whines about going to bed without a shower after being in the sticky bar. She placates his concerns by promising to shower together in the morning – his favorite.
After he’s between the sheets with a glass of water within reach, she finds his phone and plugs it in for him. The screen turns on as the charger connects, and their text thread is displayed. She sees his barely legible attempt at messaging her and smiles, shaking her head fondly at how much he loves her. Warmth grows in her chest as she glances between the i lov nd mis u text and her boyfriend snoring softly into his pillow.
Leaning down to kiss his forehead, she whispers, “Goodnight, honey,” against his soft skin.
SUMMARY: you introduce a vibrator to your relationship. spencer enjoys it a little too much, and he decides to put it to the test.
GENRE: smut (MDNI) | WORD COUNT: 1.2k
TAGS: fem!reader, overstimulation, sex toys (vibrators), spencer using sex as research, he even has his glasses on and everything, f orgasm, squirting!!, mentions of multiple orgasms, slight mention of somno, sexting, and cock rings, not proofread
NOTES: wrote this because i was mad at another fic, actually really enjoyed it. shoutout to ann summers' rampant rabbits <3
Letting him pick was your first mistake. He sat scrolling through the websites for over an hour, long enough for his wide eyes and flushed cheeks to settle into a deep, thoughtful frown.
You left him alone for a few minutes to fix yourself a cup of coffee, and you returned to find him plotting out a lengthy spreadsheet, categorising the different toys by shape and size, intensity and function. The prices weren't included, or considered at all, when he was narrowing down your options; apparently the cost "wasn't important", and Spencer was willing to shell out whatever necessary to find your perfect match. You'd be lying if you said his dedication didn't earn a laugh, but it was cute—endearing, even—to see just how invested he was in your pleasure.
In the end, Spencer concluded that your ideal toy was none other than a rabbit. You could have told him that from the start, saved you both the time spent exploring increasingly raunchy webpages, but there'd have been no fun in that.
He had settled on the exact toy that you would have chosen for yourself, if you hadn't handed the reins off to him, and that, in the moment, was one of the most attractive things you'd ever seen. He was perfectly in tune with your body, with you, and that thought alone was enough for you to shut the laptop and pull him down on top of you right there on the couch.
—
"How does that feel?"
The only response you offer is a low whine, but Spencer nods attentively all the same.
You don't know which one of you looks more ridiculous: you lying on the bed, legs spread, head of the vibrator pressed to your swollen clit; or Spencer kneeling on the floor, glasses on, watching you clench around nothing, teetering dangerously close to another orgasm, like he's watching God at work.
"Spence…"
His name leaves your lips in a squeak. Your thighs are shaking, desperate to clamp shut.
"I know," he murmurs, keeping his voice soft. Comforting.
"I…I can't—"
"You can."
Soft, but firm. Comforting, but unwavering. He doesn't touch you, doesn't force you in any way, but his words hold you in place, reassuring you, telling you “you've got this” and, fatally, that “you're doing so well”. The praise goes straight to your head, then ricochets down to your core where it tangles in the fast-growing knot, pulls it so taut that you're sure it's about to snap.
You aren't sure how long you've been doing this, lying here playing with your new toy whilst he watches, engrossed, studying how your body reacts to different angles, pressures, modes—because yes, it has different modes; three increasing speeds and seven different vibration patterns—to see which combinations bring you over the edge the fastest, and which push you over it the hardest.
What you do know is that you're nearing your umpteenth orgasm, and Spencer hasn't so much as glanced at his persistent, and presumably quite uncomfortable, erection. All he cares to look at is you, sweating all over his sheets, moaning for him like an angel.
"I really— fuck, Spence…" you're choking on your words, almost babbling as you try to gather the strength to speak. "I really…can't. Please…"
Spencer purses his lips, visibly torn between cutting his little experiment short for your sake and pushing you that little bit further—for research's sake. But, after a moment, he concedes with a small nod. "Okay. This can be your last one, alright?"
"…thank God—"
"And we'll run through the rest of the settings tomorrow."
Weakly, you raise your head to meet his gaze. He's smiling—grinning, actually. Too tired to argue, and too weak to kick him in the face, you just let your head fall back against the mattress, and you resign yourself to your fate.
"Do you wanna put it back in?" he asks, immediately returning his focus to the toy, to the questionnaire he's been running since he first asked you to lie down. "Or do you prefer it like this?"
When all you can muster in reply is a hum, Spencer gives your foot a gentle tap.
"I know you're tired, honey, but we're almost done. I promise," he says. "I read online that the insertable length has more of a rumble feel to it, whereas the 'rabbit ears' provide a lighter vibrational feel—would you say that's correct?"
"Spencer, I—" a sharp gasp cuts through your words. Your hips buck, rubbing your over-sensitive clit against the toy, and you bite your lip, stifle a whine, before answering, "Yes. Yes, i-it's…whatever you said."
"And do you prefer that?" he asks.
Your answer comes in the form of a moan—a loud one—followed by a sudden, unexpected gush of warmth as the knot finally snaps, unravelling in an instant, and it takes the last of your strength with it. The orgasm hits like a tsunami wave, pulling you under the tide before washing you up on the shore, so overcome with exhaustion that you fail to register Spencer's stunned silence.
"…I suppose that's as good of an answer as any," he says, puffing air into his cheeks as he leans back.
He's grinning line a kid, smile stretching from ear to ear as he admires the mess you've made of yourself.
"…what?" you mumble, confused. You've a dim awareness of how warm the sheets have become under your hips.
"Have you, um," Spencer clears his throat. "Have you ever squirted in the past? Or is this new?"
"What?"
"I see. So it's new, then? Noted."
—
Spencer's experiment was a resounding success. Sex was never lacklustre in your relationship—it was quite the opposite—but since opening your doors, and wallets, to the prospect of sex toys, your intimate lives have improved tenfold. You continue to discover new things about yourself, about each other, and Spencer stores each little fun fact away in his library of a mind; he has an arsenal of knowledge about you, your body, how to make you squirt even though you were sure you couldn't—and he never hesitates to use it.
You wake up to it, sometimes, that low rumble against your clit. You're already soaked through your panties, sleep-leaden body desperate for release before you even open your eyes. He peppers your face with kisses, whispers “good morning” as he guides you towards an orgasm that will likely put you straight back to sleep. You doze off in his arms, wake up some thirty minutes later already cleaned up.
He asked you—begged you, if we're being honest—to use it when he's away, to get off as much as your heart desires and, of course, to send him videos of it (even a technophobe like Spencer Reid is willing to use WhatsApp if there's something in it for him). You oblige, of course; you put on your prettiest matching set, and you put on a show for him.
And what you earn in response is a mouth-watering video of Spencer in his hotel room, moaning your name as he pleasures himself with his hands and, in more recent times, the vibrating cock ring you bought for his birthday.
Can you do Spencer with a breeding kink? Like him and reader are having sex and he creampies her.
spencer reid with a breeding kink ft creampies and a minor marriage kink? (idek i got a lil carried away)
my first ever request eek!!
ever since spencer and reader’s 1 year dating anniversary he’s been actually obsessed with the thought of forever with her
really he’s been fantasizing about it since he first saw her, but he’s having a harder and harder time pushing the thoughts away
the thoughts of being married to her, getting to call her his wife
of having a house with her, a picket fence and a garden and a yard
and children, of course
he wants to have kids with her so so badly
the thought of having little versions of the two of them running around makes him feel dizzy with excitement
when he spends too long envisioning her pregnant he has to sneak away to take care of himself, jerking off in the bathroom, he just can’t contain himself
he knows that she wants it too, but they’ve both agreed that they want to wait until they’re married and settled in a house to have kids
she’s literally still on birth control
but that doesn’t stop him from panting into her mouth as he’s slowly fucking her “let me make you a mommy”
“please baby let’s have a baby”
“i’m gonna fill you up with my cum”
he’s lifted one of her legs around his waist so he can get even deeper inside of her and she moans at the feeling of his cock in her stomach
“you wanna be a daddy, spence?”
“yes baby yes, gonna make you a mommy so i can be a daddy, we’ll be the best parents, yeah?” she’s delirious and drunk on him, he’s everywhere all at once, so all she can do is whine and nod
“fuck, you’re gonna look so beautiful carrying our child”
“can’t wait to make you my beautiful pregnant wife”
she’s completely breathless with how full she feels, he’s fucking her so deeply that she can barely get air into her lungs
after he’s emptied himself inside of her and has pulled out, he can’t stop himself from kneeling between her legs to stop any of his cum from dripping out of her
he uses his fingertip to push it all back in and slowly finger fucks her to pump it all in as deep as he can
“gotta make sure it takes, right baby?”
-
after they’ve discussed it and have decided that they are ready to try for a baby, they both become insatiable
she’s riding him into the mattress, his hands squeezing at her hips as she lifts up and drops herself back down again and again and again
his face is flushed and he has this sparkle in his eye as he looks at her and she’s just so in love with him
she sinks completely down on him and grinds her hips to keep him as deep inside of her as possible and he throws his head back, “fuck, baby”
speaking of
“gonna come inside me spence? put a baby in me?” she whispers in his ear
he lets out the most visceral groan of pleasure
“fuck me, yes, yes, please, need to see my wife so full of me”
“please, i’m so deep in you, it’ll be so easy to”
“please, i can’t wait to see my wife pregnant”
she bites her lip to hide a smile at how her words affect him, she never knew that he’d get so worked up by these words
she lifts up his cock until only his tip is left inside of her and sinks back down, over and over until he’s whimpering and he can’t keep his hands off her bouncing tits
“i cant wait for these to get all swollen and leaky, they’re already so perfect i wont be able to handle it”
“so close, baby, so close to giving you a baby”
“yeah, spence? gonna make me a mommy?”
“show everyone that i’m yours?”
after he paints her walls with his cum, he lays her flat on her back so that gravity can’t ruin his plans
“i can feel you dripping out, spence” and he can’t have that so he pushes it all back in and grinds a finger deep inside of her
he doesn’t want to pump them too fast and risk any of his cum spilling out of her, so he just buries his finger as deep as he can
he keeps at it until he’s hard again and he pumps load after load of his cum in her, determined for it to take
he makes sure that she cums as many times as he does, if not more, just to make sure his sperm transfers
“some people say it’s a myth but you’re gonna cum again for me baby, okay? just to be safe”
he fills her over and over again until she’s literally overflowing with it and there’s too much for it to all fit inside of her
he makes sure to try alll of the positions with her, he’s absolutely researched which ones are the most effective for fertility
his favorite is definitely propping both of her legs on his shoulders, nearly folding her in half
he’s absolutely mesmerized by the sight of her pretty pussy gushing with his cum and tries his best to push it back in, but there’s just too much of it
-
when she is pregnant and swollen with his child, every inch of her body changed because of him, he can’t keep his hands off of her
he’s enthralled, captivated, absolutely fascinated by her
he’s constantly rubbing her bump
he sucks marks over her stretch marks, so proud of himself for forever altering her body and skin
he sucks and licks on her sensitive tits
he loves fucking her with her on the edge of their bed, her laying down and him standing between her legs
he gets the perfect view of her protruding belly, and he can’t handle it
“fuck, baby, i knew you’d look so beautiful like this”
“thank you for carrying our baby”
“wish i could keep you pregnant forever”
her hormones make her so so needy for him, she constantly needs him inside of her, loves having his mouth all over her, she’s always on fire for him
“my beautiful wife, so full of me”
“you were made to look like this. you were made just for me”
“just looking at you like this turns me on so much, i get hard in public seeing what i did to you”
“you’re glowing, baby”
“as if the ring wasn’t proof enough that you’re taken, everyone can see that i’ve claimed you”
“i always thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but you’re even more beautiful like this, so perfect, so gorgeous”
and if her breasts start to leak before she gives birth? he’s absolutely mesmerized and can’t stop squeezing at them to watch her leak more
he’d follow the trails of milk with his tongue, moaning like he’s never tasted anything better, because he hasn’t
he’s almost even more entranced by the way his cum looks when it’s dripping out of her when she’s like this
the sight of her so so full of him has him literally moaning at just the sight
she jokingly reminds him that she’s already pregnant, he can’t do it again
and he already can’t wait to do it again, already looking forward to watching her grow and swell because of him again
-
after birth he’d be counting down the days until they can start trying again, desperate to see her so full and so round of him again
and the thought of her holding their child while another grows inside of her has him begging her to let him get her pregnant again
spencer ‘doesn’t do handshakes’ reid is absolutely obsessed with touching fem!reader
18+ (smut)
wc: 705
starts as fluff then transitions into smut, i couldn’t help myself
⋆ he’s a cuddlebug in the most extreme and literal sense.
⋆ like he can’t get enough, he’s constantly touching her.
⋆ if they’re holding hands and she needs to pull away to do something, he’s whining and wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her close.
⋆ if he needs to pull his hand out of her grasp, he’ll hold it with the other hand, or wrap her arm around his waist, or place her hand on his arm to maintain the contact.
⋆ she wasn’t sure how he’d be about pda, especially around his coworkers, but he’s completely insatiable with his touches and kisses.
⋆ obviously he loves kissing her on the mouth the most, but he loves kissing her forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, anywhere and everywhere he can reach.
⋆ he’d even ask her to give him a forehead kiss when he’s feeling especially needy (always).
⋆ he loves wrapping his arms around her waist from behind her, fusing his chest to her back. he’ll dip his hands under her shirt or her waistband, just wanting to feel her skin.
⋆ when they’re at home and he’s reading next to her on the couch, he’ll try to keep a hand on her leg, but it’s easiest if he just lies with his head in her lap. this way he can hold his book properly and still be close to her. she’ll play with his hair and his eyes will start drooping and he loooves falling asleep like that. he’ll turn to press his face into her stomach and wrap his arms around her waist in his sleep.
⋆ in his sleep he still tries to get as close to her as possible, enclosing her waist with his arms and nuzzling his head into her neck.
⋆ obviously spooning her is his favorite, but she’ll wake up on her back or stomach with him all over her in any way possible, even if it’s just his legs tangled with hers.
⋆ he encourages her to lay completely on top of him.
⋆ he’ll even wrap his arms around her thigh and hold it to his chest when they’re lying together, just constantly holding her in any way possible.
⋆ he loves cuddling with her on the couch the most because of the forced proximity.
⋆ if she’s across the couch from him, he’ll pull her feet into his lap, wrapping a hand over her ankle and running his hand up and down her shin as they watch tv together.
⋆ they are absolutely that couple that sits on the same side of the table at restaurants.
⋆ god forbid he has to sit across from her for any reason, he’s playing footsie with her under the table: linking their ankles together and holding one of her feet between his.
⋆ and she worries about him when he leaves for cases and he has to sleep all alone, so she sends him with a sweater that smells like her. she jokes about making him a build-a-bear with the voice recording device inside so he can still have a piece of her when he’s away.
he doesn’t realize that she’s kidding and nods excitedly, wide-eyed, because ultimately him being away so often is one of the main reasons he needs to be as close to her as possible when he is home.
⋆ (oh and nothing is better than naked cuddling with her. he neeeeds the skin-to-skin contact.
⋆ he’s absolutely into cockwarming and fingerwarming(?): he’ll keep his fingers inside of her, not moving them, just feeling her, until she’s begging and whining and grinding on him.
⋆ if he finds her lying on her stomach, he’ll lay his head on her ass. she’ll ask him if he needs something, and he’ll say nope. eventually, he’ll start playing with her waistband, needing to get his head between her thighs. you know, just to get even closer to her.
⋆ he loves having her sat between his legs, his chest to her back, as he slowly toys with her breasts and pussy. he’ll wrap his legs around hers to keep her even closer to him and to spread her open for him to play with.)
kind of part 2 regarding spencer's germaphobia during sex
ngl this was supposed to be short and sweet like my other ask requests have been, but i wanted it to have a more poetic vibe? so it somehow became 7000 words. i hope u still like!! also i named the docs file 'girl in red' and thought that was funny and wanted to share lolz
Spencer thinks absolutely nothing of the prospect of having sex with her when she’s on her period; it’s just a natural bodily function. He’s entirely unaffected.
They’re lying on his couch, evening light dispersing through the curtains and painting everything a soft golden. Lying horizontally and facing each other, faint conversations turned into soft kisses that tumbled into something sensual.
Her fingers tangle in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to her. His hand raises to rest on her cheek, angling her neck upwards to grant him easier access to her.
Their tongues tangle and slide together; the moist sound blends with their quiet sighs. The documentary on his TV has long been muted.
His hand trails down her arm, leaving sparks under her skin in its wake. His palm lands on her hip and firmly tugs her lower half closer to his. The feeling of his growing arousal is present against her thigh: thick and warm.
“I’m on my period,” she warns him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist.
“Yes?” he already knows this. What kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t have her cycle memorized? He knows exactly when to estimate the start of her menstruation, and can feel the tension increase in her body in the preceding days. How else would he keep her favorite ice cream stocked in his freezer for her to delight in?
“So, we can’t.”
“Well, we can,” he smirks, “but not if you don’t want to.” His eyes are intensely earnest.
“I always want to, but what about the mess?” Her gaze meets his, and she looks so unassuming and adorable; he needs her so badly.
“Let me worry about that.”
As he presses his lips to her neck, “orgasms can help alleviate your cramps. The hormones released after are natural painkillers.”
He’s the only person who can extract her thoughts from her head simply by being close to her; he knows this. He’s turned her stiff body into putty, and she’s on her way to being a liquid for him. Her eyes flutter shut, and she exposes her throat for his access, instinctively.
As his lips part and he starts to draw in her skin, “Oh- okay… Wait, I need to go to the bathroom and…” she gestures at her pelvis while biting on the inside of her cheek.
His lips twitch into a smile, “Of course, baby, I’ll get us set up on the bed.” He’s so amorous for her that he would’ve worked around a pad or removed a tampon for her without question. He has to suppress a laugh at his own desperation.
She tentatively untagles her limbs from his and rises from the couch to scamper into the bathroom.
After she leaves, he rolls onto his back and gazes at the ceiling, trying to pull himself together. He’s always eager to be intimate with her, but the anticipation of getting to see her during such a private epoch has his mind reeling. He thought he’d be impervious when the thought first occurred to him, but as the idea settles in, eagerness begins to hum under his skin.
His most beloved part of making love to her is getting to see the proof of their arousal on their skin. When they’re glistening with juices, sweat, and spit, he can barely contain himself. She has the ability to turn him into a person that he didn’t know he could be. His carnal desires transform into something almost animalistic, just for her.
Eventually, he rises from the sofa and gathers a large towel, a glass of water, and her favorite chocolate bar to bring into his bedroom. He assembles each piece with careful precision. The towel is layered over his bedsheets, and the water and chocolate get placed on the nightstand.
He takes pride in his penchant for taking care of her and foreseeing her needs. Like a scout, he needs to be prepared for anything: if she gets light-headed or changes her mind.
He strips down to his boxers and settles onto the edge of the bed as she emerges from the bathroom. Gaze slowly descending her body, taking in the sight of her clad in just her black bra and matching underwear, his breath catches in his throat. As she tangles her fingers in front of her stomach, he rises from the mattress and extends his hand toward her.
“C’mere, baby.”
Palms settling on her hips as he draws her in, their bodies connect like moths to a flame. His thumbs rub soothing circles on her skin, relieving the pressure she carries there. His touches always unravel her.
“Hi,” she whispers, coyly.
“Hey, beautiful.”
He lowers his head to nuzzle his nose against hers. His breath fans in soft streams against her face. Her eyes close intuitively, and she angles her neck upward. She feels like candlewax melting near an open flame.
Finally, their lips meet again. The way he tugs her body towards his is reminiscent of the way he did so on the couch, but this time, they meet core to core. The soft, warm heat of him at her lower stomach mitigates the deep tightening that’s lived there for days.
Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces: delicate, but firm. They’re still damp from their earlier ministrations on the couch. He gently pulls her upper lip between his. The kiss is soft and velvety, and it perfectly toes the line of being exactly what they need and not enough.
He leaves a hand on her hipbone and brings his other to rest on her cheek, expertly tilting her head backward to deepen their kiss. Tracing her bottom lip with his tongue, her hands rise to find purchase on his chest.
The hand on her hip circles around to her ass, and his gentle squeeze allows a soft gasp to escape her. A knowing smirk rises on his lips as they turn upward against hers. He knows exactly how to reduce her to warmth and instinct, and he revels in that feeling.
Her parted mouth allows him to properly slide his tongue against hers. For a moment, she forgets where they are and what’s occurring in her panties. All she can feel, smell, and touch is him.
He knows this; he’s felt all of the tension unravel in her body, so he seizes the opportunity to rotate their bodies so the backs of her legs make contact with the mattress.
He regretfully separates from their kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “Are you sure?”
It reminds her of their very first time together. His earnestness is familiar in the sense that he gives it to her constantly, but right now it feels different. It feels deeper and heavier.
She nods her head and hopes she’s conveying her genuine sincerity in her eyes, “I’m sure.”
There’s a thrill in knowing that they still have milestones to discover together. They both hope that the list never ends. They intend to spend the rest of their lives learning and relearning how to make the other tick.
He flattens her onto the bed, on top of the soft towel he placed before. The stiff, bone-deep ache in her spine dissipates as she settles into the mattress. She’s surrounded by softness; his skin presses into her front, and her back is cushioned by the plush towel.
Positioned on top of her with a knee between her thighs, he leans over her. He curls an arm around her head as he leans in to slot their lips together again. He’s less patient than he was previously, and he wastes minimal time before slipping his tongue back into her mouth.
His other arm grazes her upper arm and shoulder-blade, and he sensually slides her bra strap down. She knowingly arches her back so he can reach under her to unclasp it. He’s done this for her so many times before that he’s able to unfasten it with one hand, and without his mouth faltering on hers.
She sighs in relief as the restrictive fabric loosens, and he pulls the article off her body before tossing it to the floor. His lips trail from the corner of her mouth to her jaw, cascading down her neck. His mouth is moist with a mixture of their saliva.
As his hand cups her newly exposed breast, a timid moan escapes her. She’s always so reactive and sensitive to his touch, but right now her body is on fire for him. She feels heavy and full in his hand. He softly squeezes her as he sucks a mark on the junction where her neck meets her shoulder.
“Spence…” she emits during a long exhale.
“I know, baby, let me take care of you.”
His thumb brushes around the edge of her nipple, easing her into his ministrations. He continues the descent of his mouth down her chest, kissing and leaving pink marks on her skin.
He tends to her dense breasts reverently. He uses both hands to squeeze the fullness of them, lightly skimming circles on her nipples. The relief she feels is already euphoric, and he hasn’t even touched her where she’s aching and pulsing for him.
The knee between her thighs drifts closer to her damp, aching core. She just barely feels the ghost of his kneecap against the apex of her inner thighs. Rutting her hip downward towards him, she feels pleasantly dizzy and can’t control the tilt of her head against the pillow or the air that escapes her lungs.
She’s so sensitive, it’s like he has direct access to her nerve endings. When he flattens his tongue over her nipple, she gasps and arches her back sharply. He rolls her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger ever so slightly, before alternating his touches.
He retreats from her just enough to see his saliva glistening around her areolas and bites his lower lip in pleasure at the sight. The curve of her breasts is slightly swollen from her menstruation, and he feels so fortunate to have this access to her.
He returns his lips to hers and lightly caresses one hand down her arm to her hipbone. His other hand comfortingly strokes her hair. He’s being so soft and gentle with her, like her skin is glass.
His thumb rests on the skin of her hipline, and his palm feels warm and firm. He lets his thumb brush underneath the elastic of her waistband, and he slowly eases his hand inside of her panties. His body shifts to create easier access to her.
She separates her thighs and pushes her hips upward as a means of telling him where she needs him. Her arms rise to cup his face with her hands, pulling him even closer to her.
His palm slides down her center, and he dips his middle finger into the wetness that has accumulated at her core.
“Oh, baby.” He whispers against her lips. She’s completely drenched in a mixture of blood and arousal. She feels so warm and so so wet; he’s enraptured by the feeling. A low keening noise emits from low in her throat.
His finger glides with ease through and around her folds. When the tip of it grazes her clit, her hips jerk involuntarily. She feels so sensitive and vulnerable. She feels charged and heightened, like a livewire.
He maintains eye contact with her as his finger enters her slick hole. He can feel the heat emanating from her. She feels like soft, silken sheets in the summertime.
He leisurely pumps his fingers, and they can both hear the squelching noise of her moisture. It’s already so lewd. She’s soaked down to her inner thighs.
He studies her face as he easily inserts a second finger alongside his first. There’s barely any stretch, and her hole pulls his fingers deeper on its own accord. A gravelly moan escapes her against her will.
His fingers seem to be reaching the low and constant ache that resides deep inside of her. Each pump of his fingers chips away at it, while introducing a new, more pleasant pressure for her to focus on.
He curves his fingers to stroke her most sensitive spot with each thrust. Her hands shift to his neck, pulling him against her so she can bury her face in his chest. Her deep moans reverberate against his skin.
He wants to tell her how badly he needs to be inside of her, but he doesn’t want to pressure her. He wants to give her space to change her mind, if she wants.
It’s all he can think about, though, as her drenched, silky pussy envelopes his hand. He can barely wait to get his cock wrapped in her tight, warm, wet heat. If he were a lesser man, he’d pull her panties down right now.
As he continues fingering her, her nipples feel electric as they pleasantly press against his chest. The smell of him travels up her nostrils and seems to blanket her brain. He smells crisp of cedar and coffee.
He raises his thumb to roll over her clit, and her body shudders against his.
“Oh, fuck, Spence,” she whines.
“Yeah, baby? How’s that feel?”
“So good, Spence. I need you inside me.”
“I will, baby. Just relax for me, I wanna make you cum before I do.” He leans down to kiss her again, sensually sliding his tongue inside her mouth. Her moans vibrate between his lips and onto his tongue. He tangles a hand in her hair, not pulling, just holding her.
As he gradually increases the speed and pressure of his fingers, the squishing noise between her thighs grows louder.
A low moan escapes him as she clenches around his fingers. Her thighs tremble, and her jaw goes slack against his. Soft whimpers enter his mouth, and her back arches slightly off the bed.
“There you go…” He mutters as he watches her head tilt back, and her eyes squeeze shut.
She feels the white-hot pleasure of her orgasm rolling through her. She feels like a struck match that’s slowly burning down to nothing. Sparks glow behind her eyelids.
Spencer continues the movements of his fingers until her thighs start to close around his hand and her hips squirm away from him. He then removes his hand from her panties and rests it back on her hip. His fingers are warm and wet and sticky on her skin.
She’s completely breathless, and as she opens her eyes, her vision is blurred at the edges.
He litters kisses down her neck, to her chest, and back to her breasts, sucking one of her nipples back into his mouth. Her hands tangle in his hair to attempt to pull his mouth back to hers, but he groans in pleasure at the feeling of her touch and maintains his hovering position over her tits.
He lets a slow string of spit fall from his lips and land on her red, swollen nipple. She whines as it makes contact with her overworked skin. He watches as his saliva settles into her skin with a focused gaze.
He lets his gaze fall to his messy fingers, and his brain short-circuits when he sees the proof of her stained all over them. Underneath them, her hip is red with his fingerprints.
He loses himself in the sight of it, and she starts fearing that he’s disgusted by what he sees.
“Spence? Do you still… want to?”
His head snaps back to her face, where he finds her worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, and a soft crease has formed between her eyebrows.
He uses his dry hand to pull at her bottom lip, and it forms into a pout. He kisses the crease between her brows and softly grinds his hips against her outer thigh.
“Yes, baby, I absolutely still want to.”
She feels the proof of his statement in the warm, hard pressure against her leg and sighs in relief. He maintains eye contact with her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, sexily licking them clean of her blood and arousal.
Her jaw slackens in shock at the sight of him like this, and his eyes close in pleasure as he tastes her. She tastes both familiar and entirely new. He then winks at her. Her concerns regarding his desires fall away.
His fingers remain somewhat stained, and a red spot is left on his bottom lip.
As he moves down her body, he sucks her nipple into his mouth and rolls it between his lips. She whimpers and places her hand on the back of his head. He releases her with an audible ‘pop’ noise and kisses slowly down her stomach and to her waistband. He now has a perfect view of the mess that’s grown along her inner thighs.
He places tender kisses along her lower stomach, exactly on the places where her cramps typically form. Following his lips comes the weight of his palm, which caresses her softly.
He understands her well enough to know that her first orgasm softened her nervous edges enough for him to remove her panties, but he still looks up at her in question as he hooks his fingers into them.
She nods enthusiastically, and he smiles as he tugs them down her legs.
They suction to her cunt on the way down, and her slick mess is slowly revealed to him as if he’s unwrapping a present. In a way, he is; getting to be with her at all is a gift.
After carefully folding her panties and placing them on the edge of the towel, his gaze meets her exposed cunt. He’s completely entranced by the red smears that paint her inner thighs and pelvis. He impulsively bends her legs to set her feet flat on the bed, granting him an even better view of her soaked core.
Seeing her blood-smeared pussy, exposed just for him, a low and desperate groan escapes him. Blood trickles through her folds and onto the towel beneath her.
Spencer needs to get inside of her. He needs to feel her warm lubrication wrapped around his cock.
He leaves a quick kiss on her inner thigh before sitting up to hurriedly push his underwear down his legs. He barely has the wherewithal to get them off his feet.
He gathers some of her bloody slick with his fingers and strokes his throbbing cock to lubricate himself. Repositioning himself on top of her, he draws one of her knees against his waist and props himself up with the other by her head.
For a moment, all he can see is the pink and red and maroon that litters her body. Pink are her cheeks. Red are her lips, the marks he left scattered over her neck and chest, and her bitten nipples. Maroon is the handprint he left on her hip.
“Thank you for letting me have you like this. You look absolutely divine, baby.”
The pink on her cheeks blossoms into a red. Only Spencer would take the time to compliment her so dearly before he’s about to fuck her into the mattress. Only Spencer would abandon his own needs to provide her with this tender moment.
Their pupils are equally dilated and expanded, matching each other in darkness and intensity.
He slowly drags his tip through her slickness, mesmerized at the way her blood catches and stains his smooth skin. She gasps and jerks her hips upwards as he contacts her clit with each slide.
He’s completely painted with her from tip to base, smeared into the soft hair that’s littered there.
He lowers himself down to kiss her as he lines himself up with her entrance. She gasps into his mouth at the ease with which his tip slides inside of her. He has to stop himself from gliding all the way inside of her to the hilt. She’s so slick and so wet that he could do so with ease, but he won’t before she’s ready.
She wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him in to the hilt; she can’t wait anymore. She craves the feeling of him deep inside of her. The impact punches the air out of both of them. The descent was completely frictionless; they could feel her walls softly stretching to accommodate him.
“Fuck-” He moans at the feeling of her completely enveloping his cock: thick and warm and wet.
She can feel him pulsing and throbbing inside of her. She reaches for his shoulders to hold him for purchase, her nails pushing into his skin.
The biting sensation of her nails brings him back to reality, and he realizes he’s been stagnant inside of her for an unknown amount of time.
As he starts moving, it’s nearly impossible for him to control his thrusts; everything is so slick and slippery. Each thrust is filthily easy with wetness and moisture. Each slap of their hips produces an obscene, wet smacking noise.
Each drag of him along her sensitive walls has her writhing and arching underneath him. Her sopping pussy pulls him in even deeper with each thrust.
Spencer is enchanted. Normally, he treasures having eye contact with her during sex, but he’s fascinated by the sight of her smearing all over his cock. His eyes are wide and round, and his mouth falls open in shock.
He knew he wouldn’t be disturbed by the sight of her like this, but he didn’t expect his attraction to her to grow impossibly stronger.
His eyes are locked on where they meet, gaze laser-focused on her. His grip on her thigh tightens with each thrust of his hips.
“Look at you, baby. You’re making a mess all over me.” He sounds as fascinated as he looks. His eyes are full of devotion.
She sits up to meet his eye line where his core slams into hers. As she shifts, she unconsciously clenches against him, and her greedy walls suction him in even deeper. Her nails dig deeper into his shoulders.
Her upright position makes them moan in tandem. Her eyes widen as she sees her smearing blood on his pelvis and V-line. It’s collected around the base of his cock and has spread through his pubic hair, gathering in the soft strands. Her inner thighs are coated with a crimson stain that ascends to her lower stomach.
The sight of him pumping in and out of her makes her head spin on a normal day, but this vision has her entire body tingling with desire. It awakens something deep and carnal inside of her.
For a moment, all she can see on him are the red details. His lips are kissed red. Her nails have left red crescents on his shoulders. His chest is flushed a reddish pink. His pelvis is painted red with her. With each thrust, she can see the blood that has accumulated around the base of his cock. It tapers out into his soft, curly pubes and has started collecting in the groove of his hip.
She feels a feral sense of pride brewing in her stomach at the sight of what she’s done to him.
Her gaze flitters over to the faint fingerprints he left on her hip, and her jaw falls open in a pleasant shock.
“So pretty like this, baby, so so pretty.” The repetitiveness of his adjective is a testament to how far gone he is. His grip on her thigh tightens as his thrusts become more and more rigorous.
“Oh fuck me.” Her head tilts back, elongating her throat. He surges forward to suck more marks on her smooth skin, darkening the ones he’s already left there.
Her veins are so flooded with pleasure that she falls backwards onto the pillow, dragging him down with her. One of her hands tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck, needing something to hold on to.
With the new angle, she can feel his tip kiss her cervix with each thrust; she emits low moans, “ah, ah, ah,” like a prayer with each penetration.
His hand that was propping his body up now slides down the sheets to grab hers, intertwining their fingers like he can’t get close enough to her; as if being inside of her and covered in the evidence of her biology isn’t enough. She grips it like it's her lifeline, and he can still feel the pleasant sting of where her fingernails had done the same into his shoulder and upper back.
“Shit- you feeling okay?” his head is burrowed in the crook of her shoulder, and his breath collides with her heated skin.
“Mhm,” she emits a high-pitched moan, “feels really good.”
His voice is wrecked, “Good, baby, let me take care of you. Feels so good for me too, you always do.” His hand spans her thigh as he lifts it high above his waist, opening her up even further. She can feel a new wave of blood and fluids gush out of her as he spreads her open.
She’s clenching around him with a tenacity that would normally push him outward, but she’s so drenched that it seems to only draw him in further. The blood-slick glide feels phenomenal for both of them. Breathless gasps intersperse with deep moans that blend with the squelching noise at their cores. It creates the most erotic melody they’ve ever heard.
He lifts his head from her bruised neck, watching her facial expressions as his cock punches into her again and again and again. Up close, the vision of each other’s glistening lips is too tempting to resist. They can see the evening sun filtering in through the curtains out of the corner of their eye, and it’s now painting the room with an alpenglow. The sides of their faces are backlit by a heavenly light.
They’re so intensely attracted to each other, and the light only strengthens their desirability. Their mouths crash together into something wet and desperate. Tongues slide with a frenzy.
Running out of air in his lungs, Spencer just slightly pulls away from the kiss, so close to her that she’s somewhat blurry. A string of spit connects their mouths, and he closes his eyes with a low groan that comes straight from his chest.
He likes his sex messy. He never thought he would, but being with her has made him obsessed with the sight of her sheer sweat, their glistening saliva, and his milky cum painting her skin. Her bloodstains hit him deep in his stomach. The obvious proof of what they’ve done has his dick twitching in excitement.
She thrusts her hips up to meet his, smearing more and more of her around his pelvis and hipline. The thrusts become deeper and faster and even messier. The pressure of him in her stomach seems to be canceling out any pressure from her uterus.
This entire experience is so erotic that Spencer can barely keep himself together; he’s a ball of yarn being slowly unraveled. She’s so plush, pliant, soft, and warm underneath him that he wishes he could stay like this forever. Rough groans that seem to be coming from his stomach sound foreign to their ears; he’s never sounded so pleased or satisfied.
Each point of contact with his skin feels heightened and hums beneath hers. She feels akin to a tree without its bark, raw and exposed.
The clenching of her walls falls into a steady rhythm, and the thigh he’s been holding against his side trembles beneath her skin. Her writhing hips become erratic.
His fingers untangle with hers to fit his hand between their bodies. Just the feeling of him hovering over her clit has her jittering. When he connects with it, drawing slow, wet circles on the nub, she knows the fire that's been growing inside of her is about to explode; his touch is the gasoline. His fingertips slip and slide with ease.
“I’m close,” she whimpers into his ear.
“I know, baby, let go for me. I need to feel you cum around me like this, please.”
Her veins feel like a lit stick of dynamite as she approaches her climax, slowly burning into an explosion of sparks and fire that spreads up to her eyelids. It blazes through her, leaving none of her atoms untouched. She’s left as a pile of embers as it dissolves.
He can see the fireworks boom behind her eyes, and her chest arches up into his. They’re so slick with sweat that their torsos glide together.
Her walls pulse as her orgasm descends, causing his to follow behind it after a handful of haphazard thrusts. He buries his cock to the hilt, cumming deep inside of her.
He collapses on top of her body, nuzzling his head into her neck. She can feel his hot air against her skin and the rapid rise and fall of his chest against hers.
Her hand sticks to the strands of hair at the back of his neck, also moist with perspiration. The room is humid and smells of sex and something that’s distinctly them. The last traces of the sunset are starting to transition into night.
“Wow.” She manages to say between gasps for air.
“I know.” He mumbles into her neck; the vibrations of it are almost too much for her sensitive nerves.
Some time passes where they lie in a comfortable silence. Needing to regain control of their breathing and not wanting the moment to end.
Eventually, his head rises from the home it found on her shoulder. His eyes are glazy with passion and affection. Hers are half-lidded and adoring.
Her body feels gelatinous, but she manages to lift her head enough to press a firm kiss to his mouth. His reaction is slightly delayed, as if everything is moving in slow motion.
After they break apart, her lips brush against his jaw, down to the sweaty moisture that’s started to dry on his neck. He smells so palpably like himself there that she can’t help herself from darting her tongue out to lick at the dampness.
His head falls back in pleasure, and a guttural groan escapes him. If there’s anything Spencer loves more than his saliva spreading on her skin, it's hers connecting with his.
His hips shift against hers instinctively as a chill almost meets the surface of his skin.
This reminds both of them that his cock is still buried deep inside of her. She envelopes him in a warm and wet heat that he doesn’t want to pull away from.
“Oh my god, you’re gonna get stuck in there.” She jokes with a tired giggle.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Like that’s not exactly what I want.” He smirks, and she affectionately rolls her eyes at him.
He carefully extracts his hips from hers. The blood that's collected there has started to dry into something slightly sticky. The squelching sensation blends with the faint clinging of their skin.
Both of their pelvic areas are completely painted red and crimson with her blood. It’s like various red wines have been spilled and left to absorb into the fibers of their skin.
The feeling of his cum dripping out of her entrance blends with trickles of blood. It feels like a gutter emptying after a heavy rainfall. The heat under her skin slowly retreats as the air conditioning breathes over her damp body.
He can’t stop his temptation to see his cum mixed with her blood, so he shifts his body down the bed until he’s positioned between her thighs. It drips out of her as a soft pink before it combines with dark red. He’s so intrigued that he can’t look away.
“How’s it look, Doctor?”
“Completely marvelous, my love.” The air from his speech makes contact with her folds, making her shudder.
He lets a long string of spit fall from his lips and watches in wonder as it softly lands in her folds, making her whimper.
He licks a firm, wide stripe from her fluttering hole to her clit. He meant to ask, not wanting to cross any of her boundaries, but it’s like her cunt and his tongue have a magnetic pull.
“Oh! Spence!” she exclaims, arching her back and gripping his hair
He pulls back slightly, lips and chin already smeared with red. “I’m sorry.” Lips pursed and shifted to one side. “I should’ve asked first. Can I?”
“I’ll never say no to that, but you really don’t have to. I’m sure it tastes like pennies.”
He shakes his head, accompanied by quiet laughter, “Not at all. You always taste so good,” and dives back between her thighs.
He has to clean her up; he always does. He continues licking wide stripes up the expanse of her pussy, flicking at her clit on the way up each time. Her body jerks each time he does it, the line between overstimulation and pleasure softening with a blur.
She does have a slight metallic taste, but it makes him think of beautiful things like jewelry. She’s still sweet and tangy underneath it, a flavor he’s addicted to.
He wraps his arms around the underside of her thighs, opening her up just for him to explore.
“I’m so lucky to see you this way.”
He hopes that nobody has ever had her like this before. He knows it’s territorial and possessive to think that way–maybe even slightly problematic–but he’s never felt intimacy like this with anyone else. Regardless, he hopes he can do this with her every month for the foreseeable future.
As he sucks and inserts his tongue into her hole, his nose grazes her puffed clit until she’s writhing underneath him. Her soft whimpers and whines are music to his ears. The corners of his lips turn upward as his grip on her thighs tightens.
He’s drowning in her juices, his cum, her blood, and his saliva. He’s exactly where he wants to be.
“Spence,” she whines. The distant sound of her voice mixed with the squelching in his ears creates the most wonderful song he’s ever heard.
He licks wider stripes up her pussy, and he briefly wonders how much of a mess he’s making on his own face in the name of cleaning her. He loves seeing her arousal glistening around his mouth and chin when he normally does this. The thought of the proof of her pleasure being even more prominent has his stomach doing somersaults.
He shifts his mouth to meet her clit, softly sucking it into his mouth. Her whines tumble into proper moans, her grip on his hair tightens, and her thighs push against his arms.
He releases one of her thighs to push his pointer finger inside of her. He softly caresses her satin walls, ensuring to make contact with her most tender spot with each thrust. A low moan releases from her throat, and her newly freed thigh closes on the side of his head. He can feel it trembling against his cheek and can see her lower stomach tensing.
The experience has him letting out a low and soft moan that vibrates against her skin. Pleasuring her satisfies something deep within him.
The expanse of his devotion has warmth growing behind her eyes. Nobody has ever been this committed to taking care of her in any aspect. She’s never gotten close to trusting anyone to this extent, with her body completely at their mercy.
She feels the knot in her stomach tighten until it snaps, like a pulled thread. The oscillations of his voice are what drive her over the edge. Her orgasm tangles and rolls through her. He pulls at her seams until she comes undone, unraveling her completely.
He continues his ministrations until her grip on his hair starts pulling him away from her core. He sees her eyes squished shut, and her hair has formed a halo around her head on the pillow: perfectly accessorizing her angelic body.
The rapid rise and fall of her sweat-coated chest makes him want to rise to lick it all off of her, but he prioritizes her sensitivity over his own desire.
She looks down at him and gasps, wide-eyed, and covers her mouth with her hand.
“Oh my god, honey, you look scary.” She laughs into her palm.
“Scary?! That’s not nice,” he mockingly pouts at her. “So I can’t have a kiss?” he purses his red-stained lips at her.
“Just a little one,” she concedes and gestures with her thumb and forefinger, showing him the gap between them. He laughs and shakes his head at her, ascending her body to press a soft and brief kiss to her lips. She tries to lean forward to meet him halfway, but she’s still enduring a deep tremble that seems to be coming from her bones. Her limbs feel soft and melted.
“You do taste like pennies… and keys… and nails.”
“You’re ridiculous,” he teases, eyes fused to her red-stained lips. “Should I be worried about your dietary habits?”
“See, I was wondering if I should be worried about yours. You’re not secretly a vampire, are you?” Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she playfully squints at him.
He just laughs and shakes his head at her before leaning down to steal another brief kiss.
He considers wiping himself with the edge of the towel underneath her, but decides against it in favor of seeing her mess all over him in the bathroom mirror. Her blood has mostly dried and begun settling into his skin, anyway.
“Shower?” He asks her.
“Definitely.”
He rises from the mattress and helps her sit up enough to sip the glass of water he prepared for her. The moisture glossens her lips, collecting in the corner of her mouth. A droplet dribbles down her chin and to her neck, so he leans down to kiss it off her.
“Is that for me?” she points at the chocolate bar resting unassumingly on the wooden nightstand, looking up at him wide-eyed and curious, biting on her lower lip to subdue a smile.
“Oh, no… I got this for me,” he teases with a sly smirk, as he picks it up and holds it to his chest, in jest. She justs her lower lip out at him and gives him doe-eyes, sending a jolt to his chest. He’d do anything for her regardless, but that look could convince him to follow her into a collapsing, burning building.
He tears the package open and places a piece between her lips. As she nibbles at the square, his eyes scan her debauched body. Various red stains litter her skin in marks on her neck, chest, and breasts, all leading down to the red sea that laps her hipline, pelvis, and thighs.
He finds her utterly ethereal. Being intimate with her was already the most sacred experience in the world, but this experience is ineffable. He’s so grateful to have her, and he’s so thankful that she trusted him to do this with her.
He reluctantly leaves her side to pad over to the bathroom to start the shower for them. After twisting the handle, he finally turns to see his reflection in the mirror.
His eyes widen, and his lips separate at the vision of himself. The entirety of his lower face is coated with evidence of his debauchery. It surrounds his mouth, chin, and there’s even a smear on his cheek from her thigh closing in on him.
His gaze filters lower on his body, where he finds more confirmation of their activities together. The blood that surrounds his pelvis has dried into a deep maroon and mahogany. He’s frozen in place, in awe of the contrast of it on his pale skin. Her blood blooms and spreads from his softened cock to his pubic area, hips, and to his lower stomach.
He doesn’t want to wipe any of it away. He wishes he could tattoo it onto himself to admire for the rest of his life.
Ultimately, he rinses his face in the sink and watches mournfully as the diluted blood flows down the drain. A red tint lingers on the skin surrounding his mouth.
As he reenters the bedroom, she tells him, “I don’t know how I’m gonna get to the shower.”
“I’ll take you.” He replies with ease, tucking his arms under the towel, then under her knees and upper back before she can even ask what his plan is.
He holds her body close to his chest and ducks down to kiss her properly. Her arms tighten around his neck as she sighs happily into his mouth. The love they have for each other is so full that it could spill out of their bodies.
He carries her into the bathroom and sets her gently onto the shower floor, ensuring her legs are steady before he releases his arms. The towel gets crumpled, mess side inward, and tossed toward the bathroom corner.
She’s already started rinsing herself when he steps in behind her. They watch as the blood fades into a pale stream down her thighs, legs, and to the drain. Minimal words are shared as they clean each other off; they don’t need to. They can feel the adoration emitting from each other's bodies, and it can be seen in the recesses of their eyes.
The water runs steadily around them. Periodically, they lean into each other, her head to his chest and his arms around her waist. There are soft kisses and even softer whispers. Nothing is rushed or demanded. They bring each other comfort in the small space. They stay there longer than necessary.
Afterward, Spencer gathers clothes for her and helps her prepare her menstrual product. He cooks her an iron-rich meal that he knows she will like, and they eat it while curled together on the couch. As a movie plays on the TV, he finds his mind drifting to replay the memories of their time together over and over in his head.
-
i fear i need to put the thesaurus down but i also am proud of this but i also am scared to share LOL be nice to me!!!
hi!! can i just say i love ur writing so much and stayed up after studying last night to binge all ur works!! if ur taking requests, could u maybe write jealous spencer (sorry i just love this stupid trope 😞), and him just being way more rough with reader than usual until she eventually realises that something’s up.. or something like that!! love you
jealous!spencer reid x fem!reader ft weird man in a grocery store
hi bb!! this is so kind omg i can't believe u prioritized ME during finals season, ilysm <3
i loveee a jealous!spencer moment too, here's what i came up with!
They moved slowly through the grocery store aisles together, laughing and sharing intimate, comfortable glances. Their arms brush as he pushes the grocery cart and she walks alongside him, periodically placing a hand on his arm to signal him to stop and let her scan a shelf.
He has a paper list in his hand and has the most efficient route around the store mapped out in his mind. If it were anyone else, he’d grow irritated at the interruptions and the straying from the plan, but it’s her. He lives for the sound of her mumbling under her breath as she compares labels, the sparkle in her eyes as she turns and asks for his opinion. She reminds him to slow down.
She gestures toward the cereal aisle and tells him she’s just going to grab something real quick, and that she’ll meet him a few aisles over. He agrees with a nod and a peck on her lips, before steering the cart to the canned goods.
He finds himself lingering and comparing two cans of green beans, and wonders what she would have to say about them. He’s constantly peeking at either end of the aisle, waiting for her to appear and tell him which one is better and why. The more times he glances up, looking for her, the more he realizes that she’s been gone too long for one cereal box.
He expects to find her intently examining the boxes, and his lips twist into a smile at the thought.
He does not expect her to be talking to an extremely muscular man who towers over her.
When he approaches the opening of her aisle, he sees her stretched on her tiptoes and reaching for a box that’s been pushed back on the top shelf. At the other end of the aisle is an athletic, beefy man eyeing her like she’s a piece of meat.
Spencer understands that look, knows it intimately well with his job, but also has seen the reflection of it in his own eyes when he’s with her. She is devouringly and devastatingly gorgeous, but only he should get to look at her that way. It should be an expression reserved for him.
His pulse rises to a concerning level when he sees the man approaching her. Spencer is frozen in his tracks as he sees the man move closer and closer to her.
He can’t hear any of the words exchanged between them, but the sound of her radiant giggle meets his ears. A sound he normally revels in has anger sparking in his stomach.
Spencer’s feet finally unglue from the floor when the man places a hand on her lower back as he reaches up to grab the box for her. Before he can really think about it, he’s barreling down the aisle towards them.
She sees the flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and turns to face her boyfriend with a flush on her cheeks, and the cereal box clutched to her chest. Her smile fades when she sees the indignation growing in the crease between Spencer’s eyebrows and in the tension of his jaw.
She rounds the grocery cart, setting the box in the basket, and Spencer wraps an arm around her hips the second she’s close enough, tugging her into his side. His grip is firm on her waist. She lets out a small, surprised noise from the back of her throat at the suddenness of his movement.
No words are exchanged between the three of them, and Spencer raises an eyebrow at the man who’s now standing with his arms crossed. His biceps bulge against his broad chest. The tension in the breakfast food aisle is thicker than oatmeal.
“Well, it was nice to meet you.” The man says to her.
“Yeah… you too. Thanks for the help with…” She gestures toward the box of cereal.
He stands there for just a moment longer before firmly nodding and turning on his heel to walk away.
She separates herself from Spencer’s side. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” He spits out with a clenched jaw and sarcastically raised eyebrows.
The remainder of their grocery trip strains with an awkward silence, something they’re not at all used to. Spencer’s jaw remains rigid each time she looks over at him. What started as a light, fun, and leisurely time has transitioned into him darting around the store, frantically checking items off their list. She trails behind him, missing the feeling of his body next to hers.
Spencer’s mind is buzzing as he tries to get the grocery trip over with, so they can go home. He feels separate from his body as they move through the store. He can only think about how she’s his, and his need for her.
The lights feel brighter with each passing moment, especially once they arrive at the checkout and are greeted by a chirpy cashier.
“Hi!! How are you guys today?” She says, her enthusiasm making them flinch. The woman scans the belt as Spencer methodically unloads the cart. She tries to help him where she can, but He’s moving so quickly and precisely that there’s barely any room to assist. “Did you find everything okay? Looks like a productive trip!”
Spencer nods once, politely, but sharply. “Yes.”
“Oh, good!” The cashier scans their items and bags them so eagerly, she wonders how much caffeine the woman has ingested today. “It’s such a nice day today, isn’t it? I always say errands are way more fun with good company.”
She wants to groan and rub at her temples and tell this woman to read the room, but that’s not who she is. Spencer’s jaw tightens again, and there’s a moment of silence that stretches for too long without anyone replying.
“Yeah… that’s true.” She forces out, just to say something. Her throat feels like gravel.
The cashier keeps talking as she works, completely oblivious of the tension she’s wading through. “Honestly, I love when couples come through, it’s so sweet!”
Spencer loads their cart with bags of groceries, barely reacting to the cashier's desperate attempts to make conversation.
“Oh– I’m sorry, you guys are a couple? Right?”
Warmth grows behind her eyelids. They’ve separated so much that the woman is doubting if they’re even together. She glances at him with shiny eyes, and he doesn’t even look up from the bags to meet her gaze.
“Yes, we are. Sorry, we’re just tired.” She manages to croak out, waving her hand dismissively.
At last, their awful checkout experience comes to a close. The cashier rattles off their price, and Spencer approaches the reader with his card in his hand. He presses the buttons on the machine with slightly too much force. The cashier doesn’t notice, but she does.
Of course, there’s a donation prompt. He flatly says, “Sure.”
Their receipt prints, and he seizes it from the woman’s hand before he pushes the cart towards the doors.
“Have a nice day! Get some rest!” The woman announces, loud enough for everyone in close proximity to hear. She wishes she could disappear. She follows him to the car with her arms crossed over her chest. They load the bags into the trunk in more silence.
Once they’re finally sitting next to each other in the front seat, she turns to him and asks, “Are you mad at me?”
He starts the car and begins backing out of the parking space. He places his arm on her headrest as he looks over his shoulder. Without looking at her, he replies, “I just want to go home.” Which doesn’t answer her question.
The only sound in the vehicle is the low hum of the road and her scattered breaths. She’s not crying, but trying to hold it back. He’s never treated her like this before.
Once they get home, he dumps their grocery bags onto the floor by the front door. This is something else that he’s never done, so she hesitates with the ones in her hands. Before she can ask what’s going on with him, he’s crowding her against the door with his hands splaying on her neck and intensely kissing her.
Her yelp of surprise is muffled by his mouth. The bags in her grasp fall to the ground at their feet. He’s fiercely pushing his tongue into her mouth, and she instinctively follows his lead. She grips her fingers into the front of his shirt like she doesn’t know whether to pull him in closer or push him away.
He breaks his lips away from hers, trailing them down her neck.
“Spencer! What has gotten into you?”
“I need you.”
“...What about the groceries?” she says, foolishly.
“Don’t care.”
His hands move to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and off her body. She’s frozen and completely speechless; she’s never seen him act like this before. She’s not scared of him by any means; she’s just stunned.
She’s breathless as he sucks marks into her neck. He doesn’t make the effort to leave them in hidden places like he usually would; they’re harsh and void of any restraint.
He unbuttons her jeans with ease before shoving his hand down into her underwear. She jerks backward into the door, “Fuck– Spence.”
“You'd better be this wet because of me.” He growls into her chest.
“What? Of course it’s for you!” Her voice cracks as he hurriedly rubs at her clit.
He continues the movement of his lips along the edge of her bra, leaving marks directly on her tits as he squeezes them with his other hand.
She moans and tilts her head back against the wood of the door when his fingers move down to her entrance. He abruptly pushes his middle finger inside and wastes minimal time before adding his ring finger. Her body hitches with each pump of his fingers.
His irises are so blown out that his eyes look completely black.
He stretches her walls with his fingers just long enough to prepare her for his cock. Normally, he’d tend to her gingerly. He’d ease his hand down her body and just barely tuck his fingertips under the elastic waistband. “Is this okay?” He’d sincerely ask, before slowly dipping his fingers into her wetness. He’d give her at least one orgasm before carefully pushing his thick cock into her tight, warm hole. This entire experience goes against the norm, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t insanely turned on by his urgency.
He’s soon shoving her jeans down her legs and takes a brief moment to appreciate her body. The door feels cold on her bare skin, but his gaze is burning hot. She still has her shoes on, so her jeans gather at her ankles. Spencer can’t justify the waste of time it would be waiting for her to take them off.
As his eyes flitter from her marked neck down to her plush thighs, he squeezes her hips, “Mine.”
“All yours, Spence, nobody else’s.”
She’s appalled that a brief interaction with a stranger at the grocery store has brought out this unfamiliar side of him. She’s loving every moment of it. She’s partly relieved that he’s paying attention to her again, and partly captivated by how badly he needs her.
The grip on her sides rotates her body until she’s facing the door, and he pulls her ass out towards him. He smacks one of her asscheeks, just hard enough to make her squirm and leave a light pink handprint.
He unzips his slacks and shifts the clothing on his lower half down just enough to free his throbbing cock. It springs upward, and the contact of his shiny tip against his shirt makes him hiss.
He’s still essentially fully clothed, and she’s left in her bra and underwear with her jeans crumpled at her feet.
He slots his knee between her legs, separating them as far as the denim will allow him to. He grinds his knee upward against her cunt, and allows her to rut against him a few times. Her panties are so soaked that a wet spot appears on his pants.
He pulls her panties to the side and drives his cock into her weeping hole–all the way to the hilt–in one swift motion. She gasps and moans deeply at the impact. The stretch of her walls around him feels sharp, but the tip of him making contact with her cervix feels blunt and deep.
Spencer groans as he pushes inside of her, “Fuck– You’re so tight.”
His thrusts are hard and punishing; his clutch on her waist is firm and clenching. She won’t be surprised to find fingertip-shaped bruises there later, and a part of her hopes that she does.
She can feel him deep and low in her stomach. She’s moaning constant “ah, ah, ah” sounds that coincide with his thrusts. Sex has never sounded so erotic with him before. Their moans sound foreign to their ears, and the sound of his hips slapping on hers reverberates through the apartment. Their neighbors are probably wondering if they’re filming porn; it sounds so erotic and lewd.
“Nobody else gets to touch you.”
“Nobody else gets to look at you.”
Her neck arches and rolls with each of his movements against her body. Her hands slide against the smooth paint on the door, her fingertips white from the pressure of desperately seeking purchase.
“Nobody else, Spencer. Only you.” She utters between deep moans that come from deep inside her stomach.
His tip bruises her cervix with each movement. Her entire body flops around like a rag doll. Every impact of his hips has her breasts shaking.
She cautiously separates one of her hands from the door to reach down and rub her clit.
It doesn’t take long before she’s reaching the edge, “Fuck– Spence– Gonna cum!”
He groans as his thrusts become even sloppier. “Yeah? Gonna cum around my dick?”
“Could he make you feel this way?”
She can barely reply with an erogenous “No! ... Oh, baby!” before her tight walls are clenching and pulsing around him. Her thighs tremble, and if not for his harsh grip on her hips, she’d be afraid of falling over.
After a few more erratic thrusts, he buries himself as deep as he can inside of her, and his hot cum releases far within her cunt.
His body collapses onto her back, one of his hands flying up to lean next to hers on the door. She feels dizzy at the feeling of him surrounding her exterior and interior.
It’s not long before he’s wrenching off of her, quickly removing his cock from her warm, wet walls, “Shit.”
She whines at the sudden loss, and her panties slowly slide back into place. His cum slowly drips out of her and into the soft cotton.
As he tucks his dick back into his pants and pulls them back up over his hips, he comes back to Earth, realizing what he’s done. Reality washes over him like an ice-cold shower.
She’s still panting with her head hanging low between her shoulders. He places his hands on her hips again, and they’re already sore with developing bruises. Rotating her to face him, he tenderly brushes her hair away from her face.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know what took over me.” He pulls her jeans back up her legs. “I lost control. I’m so sorry.”
His eyes dart around the floor, still littered with their grocery bags, searching for her shirt. She halts his scramble by placing her hands on his shoulders.
“I’ve never seen you get like that. It was pretty hot.” Her lips turn upward toward her flushed cheeks.
“No, no, it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have been that rough. I could’ve hurt you.” His pupils have decreased in dilation and are now full of sorrow instead of rage and desire.
Her grip on his shoulders tightens in an attempt to ground him. “Spencer, I liked it. I had fun.” She asserts, honestly. “Makes me want to actually flirt with random men in the cereal aisle if you’ll take me like that again.” She jests.
His forehead falls to her shoulder, letting out an embarrassed groan, “Don’t you dare.”
“Seriously though, I wasn’t flirting with him. He was making weird jokes about never indulging in the cereal that I wanted because it could ruin his physique.” She rolls her eyes. “I was just trying to be polite, so he’d help me and go away. Then, he said something about me being lucky to have a body that looks as good as mine.” Spencer’s head jerks up, and his eyes narrow. “And it was making me uncomfortable! I was so relieved to see you, especially after he put his hand on my back.”
She wraps her arm around his neck, softly adding, “Please don’t ignore me like that again, though. That part made me sad. Especially when the cashier started second-guessing if we were even together.”
“I hated that too.” He murmurs, tension releasing from his shoulders as she twists her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I didn’t know you were the jealous type.” She teases lightly, causing him to exhale amusedly.
“I was jealous, yes, but I was also fearful that you’d rather be with a man who looks like he did. My arms don’t protrude out of my shirt like that and–”
“I was thinking he needs to size up; it was definitely too small.”
Spencer’s lips twist upward, his anxieties slowly falling away in pieces. “And, I don’t know, I was just scared that you would realize that you don’t want to be with me anymore, or something.” His eyes are impossibly round and earnest as they search hers.
“Spencer, I’ve only wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. I can’t envision myself with anyone else. I only want your arms wrapped around me and your hand on my lower back. I only want you to talk about my body and for you to help me get my cereal from the top shelf.”
“Promise?” His eyes are shiny, and his lower lip is slightly jutted out.
“I promise, honey.” She raises one of her hands to rest on his cheek.
He leans in and kisses her slowly and softly. It’s nothing like the way he kissed her when they first got home: there’s no heat or intensity behind it. It’s passionate, but calm and sweet.
“We should probably put the eggs and milk away.” She eventually whispers against his lips, and he groans in a joking annoyance against her mouth.
They find her shirt and put the groceries away with laughter and playfulness. The air between them is finally thin and light again.
And if, in a few weeks from now, she randomly asks him if he thinks about what ‘cereal man’ is up to just to get a rise out of him, just to get his hands gripping her hips again, who could blame her?
there's a lot of jealous spencer x bau!reader fics where a strange man at a precinct flirts with her, and those do it for me every time, but i wanted to come up with something slightly different! as always, pls interact if u enjoyed!! my heart skips a beat with every like notification on my phone lolz
spencer making reader squirt by accident 🤰🤰🤰 he just cant stop fucking her and they're in a really overstimulating (in a good way) position!!!! she didn't even know she could do that
spencer reid makes fem!reader squirt for the first time
18+ (smut)
wc: 1,182
literally thank u for requesting this, these are always so so hot to me LMAO. i hope u like how it turned out!
ohhh u already know he has read up on it and studied how to make it happen for her, but he knows that it doesn’t necessarily happen for every woman, so he’s not fully expecting it when it does happen.
they have a rare day off together and he loves her so much, he wants to spend the whole day making her feel good. he's not even aiming to make her squirt, he just wants to please her.
he takes his time with her, makes her cum twice with just his fingers before leisurely eating her out for what felt like hours to her.
he looks so pretty all the time, but when he’s looking up at her from between her legs with those beautiful, round hazel eyes, it makes her melt.
right after making her cum again with his mouth, he slowly buries his cock inside of her, he just can’t wait anymore to feel her soaked, tight heat wrapped around him.
"fuck--" he groans.
"ohmygod--" she moans.
as he thrusts in and out of her, he lifts her leg up and holds it against his hip, pressing himself into her as deep as he can go.
he thinks about a position they can try that's incredibly pleasurable for the woman. "can i try something baby?"
she nods with a "mhm," trusting him immediately. "what is it?" she figures she should ask.
he lifts her leg up all the way to his shoulder and the moan that comes out of her is foreign to both of their ears; it's a brand new sound that she's never made before.
"feel good honey?"
"so so good, babe" she's barely able to speak to him between her moans and the immense pleasure he's giving her.
"feels amazing for me too, always so good for me."
each thrust punishes her cervix, hitting her so deep and low in her stomach.
it's simultaneously too much and not enough, so she wraps her other leg around his waist. he lifts that leg the rest of the way up to his shoulder, as well. he's basically folding her in half, trying to fuck her as deep as possible.
he’s so fucking big and she was already so far gone after three orgasms back to back to back, that the position makes her head spin.
she can feel him everywhere, and it feels like the pressure of his cock is hitting her bladder.
“wait, spencer, i feel like i need to pee...” she wraps her hands around his upper arms.
he’s trying so hard to hide the excitement he feels hearing that phrase, he knows exactly what that means “that’s okay, honey, i can change the sheets.”
he's been waiting to get inside of her for so long, been painfully hard for her for so long, he really doesn't want to stop, but he would if she asked him too.
“no no, i don’t want to pee on you” she’s getting genuinely stressed and embarrassed.
“heyyy, shhhh, it’s okay baby, really. just relax and let me make you feel good. does it still feel good?” he’s stroking her hair and hasn’t let up with his thrusts, unfaltering in his rhythm.
“mhm,” she whines high in her throat, “always feels good, but i’m scared.” she's not scared of him, but she doesn't have a better word to describe how she's feeling.
“don’t be scared, honey. let it just feel good and let go.”
she breathes deeply and lets herself trust him, she knows he wouldn’t make fun of her if it did happen and he seems to know more about the situation than she does.
she's never trusted anyone as much as she trusts him.
he reaches between their bodies and rubs her clit with his thumb, the way he knows she likes. the rest of his hand stretches over her lower stomach, and he doesn't push down, but his palm is firmly placed against her.
"fuck-- spence, it's happening!"
"you're okay, baby. you're doing so good for me."
the pressure growing low in her stomach slowly releases and the relief she feels is unimaginable.
the slow release overlaps into the most intense orgasm she's ever had in her entire life.
he can feel a warm and wet liquid make contact with his lower stomach, but she has no idea its happening.
he looks down to watch her, "oh fuck baby, there you go."
he's having to recite chemistry formulas in his head to stop himself from cumming at the sight.
her walls are pulsing against his cock ferociously and he can feel a tightness in her abdomen under his hand. her thighs are trembling against his body.
"spence," she moans, high and long.
her head is tipped back against the pillow. her back arches, which lifts her pussy impossibly closer to him. her grip on his arms tightens.
the second he feels her orgasm descending, he finally lets himself let go and cums deep inside of her. she whimpers at the overstimulating feeling of being filled by his warmth.
after he pulls out, he gently leads her legs back onto the bed. while he tenderly rubs her thighs and hips, he finally looks down to see the puddle of her squirt on the bed between her thighs.
he doesn't want to embarrass her, so he's not sure how to bring it up, but he finds it so so hot and and is so proud of her. he's so grateful that she trusted him enough to fully let go.
he's so thankful when she says, "that position was insane, we should definitely do it again. i don't think i've ever came that hard."
"we definitely should, baby. it did make you squirt."
"wait, what?!" she sits up and sees the mess she created on the bed. her jaw slackens, "i've never done that before."
"never? not with anyone or by yourself?"
she shakes her head no, "is that why i felt like i was going to pee?"
he nods, "i thought it was, but i wasn't sure."
she jokingly smacks his arm with a smile, "you asshole! you could've told me! i was freaked out!"
"i know, i know, i'm sorry! but i didn't want to freak you out more or pressure you. the research says that women need to be fully relaxed for it to happen."
"the research, huh? of course, you know more about it than i do."
he blushes and averts his gaze downward, "i researched a lot before we had sex together for the first time. i wanted to make you feel as pleasured as possible."
"aw baby, that's really sweet. you're always amazing in bed, you're so good to me." she pulls him toward her and kisses him sweetly.
once she's come down from her orgasm, he helps her into the shower. they shower together, and she thanks him by giving him the best blowjob of his entire life (the first one she gave him was the best one too, they only get better and better, she's only competing with herself).
he takes care of the sheets like he said he would, then they cuddle in bed with takeout.
i kinda struggle with ending these lol sometimes i just wanna write, "and then they lived happily ever after!!!"
i did do research for this one, i hope it was realistic enough <3
also i'm working on a longer request in between these shorter ones, so stay tuned! like and subscribe!!1!!1!
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