After the hell that the last few months have been, I just want to be held. I want to turn my brain off and just be told what to do.
Want him to hold me in his big strong arms. So safe. So secure.
Want him to whisper sweet nothings in my ear while he kisses my head. Down my temple to my ear. My jaw and neck, then trailing back up to my pouty lips.
Want him to press his weight into me as he lays me on the bed. He’s grinding softly against me. “I’m gonna take care of you baby” he whispers gently.
His breath is so hot against my skin as he slides into me. Firm grip on my hips. “That’s it baby…just like that…doing so good f’me” he praises as I whine at the feeling of him. So thick. So full.
He fucks into me so gently at the start. Dragging his cock out so slowly. Letting me feel every vein and ridge. Then he slams back in hard, not fast, but so deep.
I’m a whining, moaning mess as he finds a terribly sensual rhythm. “Gonna fuck all the thoughts out that pretty head of yours, yeah?”
My nails dig into his broad shoulders. “Mmm…been working so hard lately… so proud of you baby..” he kisses along my chest. His tongue flicking out to taste my nipples.
Tears prick along the corners of my eyes before they trail down my cheeks. So good. Everything feels so good, so deep, so real.
“Shh it’s okay sweetie…m’fuckin you so good already huh? Can’t help yourself can you?”
And when I let go he hold me through it. Praise and filth falling from his lips like honey.
“That’s it…cum on my cock just like that… so good for me—mm milking me so good baby.”
Spencer Reid was never one to masturbate. Not that he thought it was wrong or had strong religious beliefs, it just wasn’t something he really dealt with. Not to say that he’s never done it, it was just rare. Sure there were times when he would wake up with morning wood, but it’d calm down the moment the cold water of his shower hit him.
But tonight? Tonight not even the freezing water of his shitty apartment shower could save him.
It was all because of that stupid work party. It’s no secret that Spencer thought you were the most beautiful person to ever walk the earth. He had come to terms with the fact that he has a huge slight crush on you a while ago.
Spencer was fine with this. He admired you from a safe distance and was able to keep things professional. Other than the occasional blush that would spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears when you complimented him or touched him or looked at him- okay maybe it wasn’t as ‘occasional’ of an occurrence as it was an ‘every single day’ occurrence.
Spencer originally wasn’t even going to come to the party, but when he has overheard you talking about how excited you were to Penelope, well he just had to show up, at least for a little while. He stood in the corner observing the crowd and playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. When he looked up next he nearly keeled over at the sight of you coming in.
Here you were in this fitted red dress with a sheer black overlay. It hugged your curves so deliciously he could’ve sworn he started drooling. Spencer had seen you in casual clothes before but this? This was something else entirely.
He didn’t realize you were in front of him until he heard your sweet voice asking if he was alright. Clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair, he tried to play off his strange behaviour and excused himself. Spencer all but ran to the restroom and splashed water on his face to calm himself down. God what was he supposed to do? He can’t just leave now it would look weird as the party only just started. Drying his face, he steadied himself to get through an hour or so of this party and then he would be free to leave without raising suspicions.
That’s how he found himself here, in his bed. Rock. Fucking. Hard.
He tried everything he could to make it go away but no matter what he thought of it always lead back to you and that dress.
He’s desperate at this point and his cock painfully hard in his pants. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this but he’s no longer in control as his hand cups the obvious bulge. A whimper escapes him at the slight touch. He’s quick to shimmy his pants off and rub himself over his boxers. He pulses and twitches at the contact but it’s not enough, he needs more. Reaching to the side of him he grabs hold of a pillow and positions it over his cock.
He presses the soft, puffy, fabric against him and lets out a gasp. His hips buck up involuntarily and the next thing he knows, he’s thrusting up against the pillow at an unsteady rhythm. “Fuck” he moans out as his mind begins to wander. He can’t help but imagine you. Your perfect body pressed against his, rocking back and forth on his clothed cock. He’d hold your waist so tightly as he ruts up into you, loving the way you feel in his hands. Your perfect tits bouncing as you rub yourself against him, using him for your pleasure.
He speeds up his movements as he feels his cock leak precum. “Can feel how messy you are” you’d say, “you like when I rub my pussy over your hard cock?”
Yes, god yes he loves it.
“Please” he moans into empty room. Changing his position, Spencer straddles the pillow and thrust hard and fast wishing it was you. “So desperate Spence, humping my pussy, can’t even wait to get inside of me can you?”
His eyes roll back as he fucks into the pillow like his life depends on it. The friction feels so good against him but he knows it’s nothing compared to how you’d feel. Tight, warm, wet walls sucking in his cock.
His underwear are soaked in his own precum at this point but he doesn’t care. He just wants to cum. His thrusts grow ragged along with his breathing. He’s so close. So so close. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum from humping my pussy Spence?”
“Yes, yes please! I’m gonna cum god I’m so close” Spencer cries before his thrusts stall and fills his boxers with cum.
He rolls onto his side as he twitches with aftershocks. Breathing heavily, he slowly comes back to earth. Feeling the stickiness in his briefs he cringes and peels them off, tossing them to the floor.
Spencer Reid was never one to masturbate, but when he did? It was always to the thought of his beloved, sexy coworker.
A/n: um happy Valentine’s Day I guess?? This is not valentines-esque at all but it came to me in a vision. Hope you enjoyed!
I need him between my thighs. Eating me so good. Legs shaking. Overstimulated. He doesn’t stop. He’s relentless. Hungry. It’s almost cannibalistic the way he consumes me. Drinking every last drop. Kissing his way up my hips just to go back down again.
“Oh god” Dylan sobs over me as I lay in a pool of blood. “T-there’s so much blood” he whimpered out through his tears, putting pressure on the wound before pulling himself together slightly.
“I-I need your type” he asks, his voice filled with emotion.
I grunt attempting to speak “5’11, brunet, brown eyes, really cute.” I mange, my eyes closed in pain.
Silence.
I open my eyes to be met with a very shocked and pink-faced Dylan.
“CUT!” Yells the director, rolling his eyes in faux annoyance.
I giggle at Dylan’s reaction. He just groans and drops his head into me. “Y-you can’t just say that..” he mumbles, his breath hot against my neck, clearly still very flustered.
I reach my hand up and thread my fingers through his hair. “What? Can’t handle a little flirting O’Brien?”
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Very much based of that incorrect quote “you’re bleeding what’s your type”
