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fairysluna · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

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sundrop-writes · 11 months ago

Text

Lessons For A Genius - Lesson One

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

Lesson One: Slick Silicone

(aka the one with the pocket pussy)

Summary:

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

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

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

Word Count: 17,200

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

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

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

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

A/N: fair warning - a lot of this fic is build up/sexual tension (my speciality). and there is a long section before the smut where the reader is teaching Spencer BDSM terms and teaching him how to pick a safeword, but I think it’s interesting and I enjoyed writing it. and it’s worth the pay-off imo.

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your reputation for having a strong stomach preceded you.

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

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

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

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

“Ugh, fine.” You said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You looked up at Reid with awe.

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

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

Your insides tingled with glee at this realization.

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

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

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

This caused Morgan to sigh sharply and shake his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was something you found entirely endearing.

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

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

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

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

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

Morgan choked on his laughter when you explained this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, ever thirsty to chase an unanswered question.

You held back a giggle.

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

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

“It’s a sex toy.” You told him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wore a glove, Reid!”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about it.

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

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

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

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

(“Or an anus, of course.”)

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

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

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

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

A pocket pussy.

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

Yes, he was a virgin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, he had plenty of experience with masturbation.

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Traffic was hell.” You fired back.

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

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

“Yes sir.” You mumbled under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You denied it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both of you knew what this meant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiled back at you fondly.

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These words sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine.

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

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

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

Oh, but you did.

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

“Spencer,” You called out his name gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he did next nearly sent you into orbit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.” You nodded.

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

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

He paused for a moment, clearing his throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you want me to show you, pretty boy?” You asked, running your thumb along his bottom lip, admiring how absolutely pink his mouth was.

You hoped that you could prompt a genuine answer out of him - get him to say the words. You had never heard Spencer talk about anything crude before, and you wondered if he was even capable of talking dirty. You hoped that if he wouldn’t say the words on his own, you could coach him into doing it. You could only imagine the satisfaction of getting that smart mouth to utter such filthy things.

“I want…” Spencer swallowed harshly, clearly having a difficult time with his mouth drying out now that you had a hand on him, even though the touch was fairly ‘innocent’. “I want you to show me… everything.”

The intense emphasis that he put on the word sent sparks flying inside of you.

It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a ‘demonstration’ of the toy. It sounded like he wanted a lot more than just a one night stand to get off.

Intense want flared up of you.

The temptation to own him, to make him yours… the temptation to take all of his first and have him tied to you like a lost puppy because of it - it was an intense one. But you wouldn’t hurt him, no. You would do it right. You would own him in that way because he wanted it just as badly as you did.

“Spencer,”

You said his name suddenly, harconing for his attention with it. You stroked your thumb along his cheek before you pulled the touch away completely. His head bobbed forward slightly to chase your hand, but he let you go without protest.

“If we’re going to do this, there has to be rules.” You told him firmly. “If I’m going to be your teacher, you have to listen to me. Teachers need rules, right?”

Spencer nodded vigorously at this.

“Of course. Yeah - yeah. You’re right.” He eagerly agreed. Then of course, he asked the obvious question. “What are the rules?”

You beamed a smile at him, loving his enthusiasm.

You knew that he would be a good boy. He was so eager to follow rules, to learn. Your body began tingling with delight at the thought of him looking up at you with hazy eyes, asking for his next command.

You had to forcibly clear your head. Right now you had to be level headed in order to teach him the rules.

“Okay the first rule - the most important one,” You prefaced, causing Spencer to straighten up slightly, showing his attentiveness, an eager student ready to learn. “Is that you need to pick a safeword. A word you can say during the scene so that I can know if you’re uncomfortable or if you need to stop.”

“‘The scene’?” Spencer asked, repeating back the phrase to you. “Also - why can’t the safeword just be ‘stop’, or ‘no’? Wouldn’t you just stop things if I said ‘no’?”

You decided to tackle his questions one at a time.

“Calling it a ‘scene’ - it’s lingo.” You said. “You know that everything comes with its own set of linguistics.” You told him, playing into his pre-existing knowledge. He nodded at this.

You then continued your explanation.

“A ‘scene’ means… any type of sexual play. Some people call it ‘playtime’. It’s lingo that exists because for a lot of people, sex is much more than just intercourse. It can start with speech and behavior and any interactions that they have with their partner when they’re alone. Like foreplay. So a safeword needs to be included in those moments too, in case someone needs to call timeout.”

Spencer nodded at this. It made him wish that he had developed a safeword with Lila Archer. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed the oral sex - but because to this day, he still shuddered at the possibility of being embarrassed by someone walking in on them, or the consequences if someone found out about the improprieties of it all.

“As far as the safeword being ‘no’, or ‘stop’…” You took the time to find the right words to explain it.

Spencer waited patiently, feeling curious about this.

“I will always look out for your safety, and if you seem uncomfortable, I’ll ask you if you’re okay.” You assured him, giving him a gentle pat on the knee. Spencer smiled at this, and you enjoyed that you had comforted him with these words.

“But sometimes ‘no’ doesn’t work.” You went on to explain. “Like… if I asked you something like ‘do you want me to stop?’ and you say ‘no’, that is a positive affirmation to continue what I’m doing, but it uses a negative word. Same thing with the word ‘stop’. If you told me ‘don’t stop’ - but your voice was too quiet on the first word or I didn’t properly hear you, then I may stop when you wouldn’t want me to.”

For the first time, Spencer felt as though he was the one being schooled.

You telling him ‘I may stop when you don’t want me to’ had him drawing an image up in his head of you vigorously riding him, taunting him while you were so well composed and he was reduced to a stuttering mess because of your wetness clenching around him. With you mistaking his words for a signal of distress, and taking away your beautiful body before he got to orgasm. It would be tragic.

He easily understood what you meant.

“The point of a safeword,” You continued on. “Is that it stands out. It’s a word you would never otherwise say during playtime. A word that would never come up during sex - except for you signaling your discomfort. So when I hear that word, I know that we need to shift gears into aftercare.”

“What’s aftercare?” Spencer asked, eager to learn another new term as it was introduced to him.

Again, you were puzzled about how to explain it, how to put it into words for someone who had no clue what the word meant.

These were things you had known about for years, words that were a natural part of your vocabulary now. Things you had been doing before you even knew the terms for it. It was strange having to explain it to someone so fresh.

“It - um…” You thought for a moment. “Aftercare is what happens after a scene. It’s the period of time when you mentally and physically wind down, in order to take care of your body and mind. Because of the physical exertion and the endorphins, sex can be exhausting and mentally tedious, as much as it is fun. So - aftercare helps transition the body and mind back into non-sexual activities. Different people need different kinds of aftercare, but usually it’s things like: drinking water, eating a snack, cuddling, words of affirmation.”

“That sounds nice.” Spencer said quietly. “Would you do that for me even - even though I’m not your boyfriend?”

You held back what you instinctively wanted to say - that you wanted him to be your boyfriend. That you wanted to own him like a cute little pet and didn’t want any other woman (or man) to touch him.

Instead, you went with the diplomatic answer.

“Of course I would.” You told him. “Aftercare is part of being a good - a good teacher.”

You quickly cut yourself off from using the word ‘dominant’ and replaced it with ‘teacher’ instead. You didn’t want to scare him with the idea that you would be intimidating, mean, cold - traditional ideas behind the term ‘dominant’.

“I want to be good to you, Spence.” You quickly added on.

His cock throbbed inside of his pants at this.

“So, you have to pick your safeword.” You told him. “Something that stands out, something that will easily come to your mind.”

Spencer took a moment, and you saw him take a sideways glance at the coffee table. The chess set that was there caught his eye, and that didn’t surprise you.

“Bishop?” Spencer posed, looking at you with eyes that said he was absolutely searching for your approval. “Is that good?”

“Yes, baby, that’s perfect.” You told him.

If you did your job well enough as a dominant, then he wouldn’t need to use the word.

You would be able to tell just by his body language and him voicing his enjoyment how far you should take things. And when he was comfortable enough, you would discuss other sexual acts, and what else you should try. Though, for tonight, you had a feeling you should take control without telling him too much of what you wanted to do. You didn’t need him getting shy on you just because of some dirty talk.

“You said that was only the first rule,” Spencer mentioned, remembering what you had said. “What are the other rules?”

“Well, the second rule is: you listen to me. You listen to everything I say. You do everything I say. You don’t question me.” You told him firmly. “Because I’m the teacher, I’m in charge.”

Spencer wanted to question you then. He wanted to point out that this sounded like multiple rules, but the way you said ‘I’m in charge’ caused something inside of him to quake, and he easily fell under your authority.

He nodded.

“The next rule is: you speak when spoken to, Spencer.” You told him, your tongue sharp on the words.

You were heavily enjoying ordering him around now.

These were two roles that the two of you fell so naturally into: he was soft and submissive under your dominant energy, and he only wanted more as your ego thrived off his eager submission. It was the start of a beautiful relationship forming.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” The title came flying out of his mouth before he could stop it, and then he instantly wanted to backpedal. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I like that.” You told him with a grin. “Though, if you want to give me a title, call me Miss.”

You held back from telling him the true title you desired. Again, not wanting to scare him away. Perhaps it was something you could ween him towards on another day.

“Yes, Miss.” He corrected, nodding. “Uh - Miss? Is - is there anything else?”

“Only two more things.” You told him. Of course, you didn’t want to overload him, but you wanted him to know your most important rules up front. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain. “You can’t touch me without asking first. And of course, you can’t touch me unless I give you permission.”

This news cast the saddest puppy look across his features. Clearly, he was deeply disappointed by the thought that he wouldn’t be able to grope and grab at your body freely. He was upset by the thought that you would deny him access to touching you. You could definitely use that if he ever misbehaved.

“And the last thing is: you can’t cum without my permission.” You told him, almost as if it were an afterthought. With any of your other partners, it would have been. Because it would have been a basic ground rule.

“Come where?” Spencer asked, his brows knit together in the most adorably confused manner you had seen yet.

Of course, he was confused. He had never before heard someone use the term ‘cum’ to refer to an orgasm. He was used to hearing that word - ‘come’ - paired with something else like ‘come here’. So he wondered what the hell you possibly meant by it.

You found yourself grinning like the cat who ate the canary as you realized that you would also have to explain this piece of slang to him.

“No, Spence, not C-O-M-E, like the verb. It’s C-U-M. It’s slang used interchangeably with the word ‘orgasm’.” You explained to him. “Sometimes it can be a verb. Like the act of cumming, it means orgasming. Or sometimes it’s a noun. Sometimes people use the word ‘cum’ instead of saying semen. ‘Cum’ is the fluid. As in: ‘I want your cum inside of me’.”

You intentionally teased him with this example, saying it as casually as a straight forward grammar lesson, looking him in the eyes the entire time. His eyes lit up at your words - obviously, he had no clue that such a simple sentence could turn him on so much. But the words immediately painted a picture in his mind of that white, sticky fluid dripping down your inner thighs, put there by him. It was so perfect that it almost made him dizzy.

When Spencer didn’t say anything, you continued with your ‘lesson’.

“When I said that you can’t cum without my permission, I meant that you can’t have an orgasm unless I say so.” You told him with finality.

He looked struck with worry at this. Partially at the idea that he wouldn’t get to have an orgasm if you didn’t give him permission, and partially at the thought that if he accidentally orgasmed without your permission, you would be angry with him and cut off all further sexual contact.

“What’s wrong, Spence?” You had to ask.

“How - how does that work?” He asked, all too curious at how he could stop himself from orgasming or how he could get your permission first.

“Well, you know what it feels like when you’re about to have an orgasm, right?” You asked, really hoping that he at least masturbated regularly. You didn’t think you could have the burden of giving him his first ever orgasm. He nodded and this and you felt a small breath of relief leave you. “So, when you feel like that, you simply ask me if you’re allowed to cum. Ask me if you can cum.”

“Will you let me?” Spencer asked nervously, sheepishly. You distinctly noticed how he avoided the word. He didn’t say the sentence as you had. You yearned to hear him say ‘will you let me cum?’ - but you knew you had to give him time to shake off his shyness.

“If you’ve been a good boy, then yes.” You told him. “Good boys follow the rules. But I don’t think you’ll have any problems, Spence.”

You saw him relax at this - any tension leaving his muscles.

You conveniently left out the part where you might edge him, might not let him cum just for your own amusement.

“I think that’s all for now.” You told him. “Now that we have the rules set - do you wanna play with your new toy?”

Spencer’s face absolutely lit up at this.

“Yes, please.” He said, his voice somehow still shy and quiet. “Yes, please, Miss.”

Your stomach jolted with intense pleasure at his declaration.

Spencer thought that you would simply grab the toy from him and unzip his pants. He was surprised when you stood up, and began looking around the room as though you were looking for something. But in alignment with the rules, he didn’t question you. He didn’t ask what you were looking for or why. Instead, he just sat there quietly and waited for your instructions.

When you seemed satisfied with your idea, you then began moving around. You leaned down and pushed away the coffee table, pushing it as far back as it would go. This made a fair amount of space in front of the couch. And before Spencer could become truly curious about it, you turned to the side of the room - toward a space where he had a small table.

It was meant to be a sort of ‘dining’ table, suitable for one or two people in an apartment like his. It had two chairs, but one of the chairs was piled up with books and the surface of the table had some files on it that he had taken home from work. He did sit on the other chair to eat occasionally - during the rare times he actually sat down and had a meal at home.

You grabbed the empty chair - which was a wooden chair with a round back and decorative wooden bars coming off the seat, holding the back of it up. (Something Spencer had picked up at a yard sale.) And then you put the chair in the middle of the room, right in the space you had cleared from moving the coffee table. The chair was facing the couch - and it became apparent to Spencer then that this was a stage.

You were either going to sit in that chair and watch him, or he was going to be the thing on display in the middle of the room. The idea of that happening - the idea of you watching him like a show, like he was something to admire - that put a twist in his stomach. It was something almost too daunting for him to conquer. He found himself swelling with shyness again, wanting to back down from this.

He feared that he wouldn’t be able to impress you. He feared that he was gangly, thin, undesirable. He feared that his experience would steer him wrong somewhere and he would mess up terribly and turn you off.

He thought that he wouldn’t be able to impress you.

But he wanted to impress you so badly. He wanted you. He wanted your touch. He wanted to be a good boy for you, like you had said.

“Give me your belt.” You said, turning to him expectantly and holding out your hand.

“My - my belt?” He asked.

Then, he immediately scolded himself inside as he realized that was questioning you, and against the rules.

You let that one slide. He was still getting used to this, and it must have been an odd, confusing instruction to hear right off the bat.

“Yes, your belt. I need it.” You said, still holding out your hand. “Come on.”

Spencer stood up then, his hands and legs shaking slightly from nerves and the overwhelming lust. Although he was taller than you, he felt so entirely small as you stared at him, waiting patiently while his shaking hands struggled to undo the buckle and then slip the leather out of the belt loops.

When he finally handed it over to you, you took the belt in hand and inspected it for a moment before you quietly said ‘perfect’ under your breath. You then looked between Spencer and the chair - he was still wearing his work attire. A cardigan, a button up shirt and tie, his usual slacks, and his adorable dorky glasses. He had taken off his shoes at the door, revealing his oddly sweet mismatched socks.

“Spencer,”

You called his name, capturing his attention from where he was swaying on the spot, nervously fidgeting with the buttons on his cardigan to avoid looking at you. As soon as he looked up at you with those big, wet eyes, you felt confident in giving him your next instruction.

“I want you to take off all your clothes. Except for your glasses and your socks.” You told him, giving him his first proper orders.

He held his voice in his throat when he felt the need to question you about it, to ask you why.

You wanted him to keep the glasses on because they brought an entirely dorky charm to him - you wanted to see if they would fog up when he became heated with lust. The socks? You thought they were cute, but it was mostly a test to see how closely he would follow the instructions. To test how well he would listen.

He did as he was told. He stripped off his sweater, and then his tie, and then his watch, leaving his wrists nice and bare for you. His fingers began to shake slightly as he descended on the buttons of his shirt - clearly, he was feeling nervous once again, so you decided to give him some encouragement.

“You’re being such a good boy, Spence.” You told him. “So good for me.”

He let out a quiet breath at the praise - a precursor to a moan. It was something that compelled him to strip faster, and gave him a small boost of courage when reaching for the zipper of his pants. After he unzipped them - his erection clearly fighting to be freed of the fabric - your mouth began watering at the sight as he reached for the waistband of his pants and his underwear all at once and slid them down.

A snake of surprising length popped out of his pants. His dick began bobbing around carelessly, smearing shiny precum all over his skin as he unhooked himself from the legs of his pants and put them aside.

You had to marvel at it.

You had never really thought about what Spencer might look like naked before. You had never allowed your mind to venture there. But now that you were seeing his cock: nine inches long, skinny and lean like he was, pale with a bright pink tip, sprouting from a thick thatch of dark pubic hair - it just made sense. He was tall and gangly, and so was his cock. It would be an impressive sword to impale yourself upon - but that would be for another day.

Spencer caught you staring, of course.

He had the urge to cover himself with his hands, and found himself clenching his fists by his sides because he figured that you wouldn’t like him trying to hide from you.

He wondered if it looked weird. He wondered if you didn’t like it. He wondered-

“You’re beautiful, Spencer.” You said, your voice so drenched in utter sincerity that you almost broke into a gasp trying to get the words out. “So fucking beautiful.”

Again, he wanted to question you - but didn’t. He wanted to be a good boy. He would follow the rules.

“Th-thank you, Miss.” He muttered out quietly, almost unable to accept the compliment.

“Come here, sit down.” You told him, motioning toward the chair.

He nodded, his legs feeling rather numb as he moved to follow your instructions. When his ass made contact with the wooden surface of the chair, he let out a gasp at how cool it was compared to his heated skin. You quietly giggled at this, and then grabbed the belt from where you had put it down. He grew tense and curious once again when you walked behind him.

You grabbed one of his wrists and began to guide it behind him, but he was so tense that you knew it would be uncomfortable for him. You eased your touch with a flat palm up his forearm and bicep, across his shoulder until you could press the weight of your thumb into the base of his neck. He moaned lightly at this, melting into the touch.

“Relax, baby.” You urged. Spencer relaxed even further at the nickname, absolutely blooming with affection inside because of it. “I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you. I just want to make you feel good.”

To drive home this point, you leaned in and planted a simple kiss on the back of his head, and then one on the side of his neck. Spencer let out a fluttering moan at this. He wanted more of those kisses, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to ask for it.

He could find no faults with what you had said, so he did his best to do as you instructed. He relaxed, leaning back fully against the chair - which was slightly uncomfortable while he was completely naked and throbbing hard, waiting for you to touch him more. But he trusted you.

You grabbed one of his wrists, and then the other, and guided them behind his back.

It was much easier now that his muscles were softer, more pliant to you.

You knelt down and used the belt to tie them simply. You looped the belt through the wooden slats so his hands would be held to the chair, and then placed both of his wrists into the loop. You didn’t want it to be so tight that the material would cut into his wrists painfully or cut off circulation, you just wanted to restrict his movement.

Which would absolutely be the case when his arms were bound behind him, awkwardly tied to the back of the chair. You hooked the buckle into the smallest notch, giving him a bit of room to move, a bit of a gap to put your finger between the belt and his skin. However, it put his shoulders at an awkward angle so he would need your help getting out of it.

“Is that okay?” You asked. “Not too tight? Be honest.”

Spencer thought that he should feel slightly afraid or too vulnerable - being completely naked and tied to a chair like this. But with you, he felt safe.

“It’s good.” He told you honestly. “Not too tight.” He assured you, moving to show off that wiggle room, demonstrating that the material wasn’t cutting into his wrists.

“Good,” You sighed quietly, standing up once again.

You walked around him like a predator circling their prey, making graceful, careful moments as you took in the sight of him.

He was absolutely, beautifully sinful in this state.

Stripped entirely naked, except for those glasses and those adorable, mismatched socks, sitting in the chair with his hands bound behind his back. All while he stared at you with his wide, expectant eyes, waiting for whatever your next move would be. While his heavy, hard cock leaked freely against his stomach, smearing a trail of sticky precum across his skin.

You reached forward and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up slightly to look at you. Having someone as tall as Spencer look up at you for a change was entirely powerful. You held him there while you asked him a very important question.

“You gonna be good for me?” You asked him.

Instinctively for him, there was only one answer.

“Yes.” He whimpered out. “Yes, Miss. I want to be good for you.”

The pure sincerity of his declaration caused another wave of wetness from your aching pussy. For now, you would ignore your own needs. You would take care of him, make sure that this was a pleasurable experience for him.

“Good boy,” You praised him, giving him a light kiss on the forehead - to which he sighed quietly in delight.

Then, you let go of his face completely and turned to grab the item that had started this whole thing.

You were excited to finally use it on Spencer.

Spencer watched with awe and intrigue as you grabbed the toy and then the lube - you peeled off the plastic shrink wrap on the lube bottle with your teeth, and then popped the cap. And you turned so Spencer could see as you poured a generous amount of lube into the opening of the toy.

“Don’t be afraid to use too much lube,” You told him, being a proper teacher. “In my opinion, there’s no such thing as ‘too wet’. But ‘too dry’ can cause skin irritation from friction. Or tearing if you’re trying to insert something like fingers or a penetrative toy. Like a dildo. Adequate lubrication always reduces the risk of both those things,”

Spencer wanted to ask if there were other kinds of penetrative toys aside from dildos, but he figured that would be a question for another time.

“Yes, Miss.” He nodded in understanding, absorbing what you had told him.

You looked between the toy and his cock, and realized you might as well slick him up beforehand.

You took a step closer to him and put the thickness of the fleshlight between his thighs, propping it there while you quietly mumbled ‘hold this’ - which caused him to tense his thighs in order to keep it from falling. He became enraptured by the sight of the silicone pussy, lubed and wet as a real one would be. He was so distracted by the sight that he almost didn’t take in you pouring lube into your hand before you capped the bottle and put it aside.

“This is probably gonna be cold,” You warned him quietly before you used your lubed hand to take a hold of his cock.

It was. And he let out a harsh gasp - from the shock of the cold wetness, a sound that quickly turned into a strangled moan as you formed a loose grip around his cock and began spreading the wetness over him with purpose. The lube soon warmed between your palm and the throbbing skin of his cock, and he unconsciously bucked into your touch, almost knocking the fleshlight out from resting between his thighs.

“Stay still.” You ordered sharply, shoving his hips back down with your free hand.

The harshness behind your voice, and your thumb pressing into his hip bone sent him reeling. He was so pliant under your touch. Between your commanding authority and the slickness of your lubed hand moving in a slow rhythm in lazy pumps up and down his cock - he was already way too fucking close.

You knew it. You could see the way his stomach muscles quaked, the tensing of his thighs. Those little lilting gasps like music to your ears.

You wondered if he would spurt cum all over your hand before he warned you. (If he did, you would likely pump him through it just to see if he would get hard again.)

“Miss-!” He hollered, choking on the word.

You abruptly stopped then. You stiffened your grip around the base of his cock - which was now nicely lubed up, and throbbing even harder as you effectively used your fingers around his pelvis like a cockring, causing his orgasm to fade dully back into his muscles. He let out a wounded sound, a confused moan from deep in his chest, his stomach shaking even harder as if he was trying to force the orgasm out past your gatekeeping touch. It was almost cute.

“Yes, Spencer?” You asked, looking at him dumbly as though you had no clue what he had been trying to say.

“I - I was getting close.” He completed the thought breathlessly. “C-close to orgasm.”

Damn. If he was this fucked out now, you couldn’t wait to see what he would be like when you were done with him.

“Well, good boys only cum with permission, right?” You said, grinning at him fiendishly.

“Yes, Miss.” He said quickly, his voice dull with disappointment, but agreeable.

“Good boy.” You praised once again. You felt his cock twitch in your hand at the words. “Besides, you haven’t even gotten a chance to try out your new toy yet.”

You then grabbed up the toy and turned it over, using your hand on the base of his cock to feed his length into the fake pussy. More cool lube came rushing down to meet him, and his lungs shook once again and his heated skin was shocked by the feeling. It was strange, but pleasurable as his cock was enveloped by the soft, wet walls of the toy. It was so, so very tight around his cock - and oddly cool, far wetter than he had expected thanks to the amount of lube you had used.

Spencer reasoned that it might be like sticking his cock in a watermelon, if that watermelon were also made of rubber bands.

You knelt down in front of Spencer, looking in awe between the spot where his cock disappeared into the fake leaking pussy to his face. Seeing his reaction to this was utterly beautiful - the way his jaw naturally fell open, his eyes half closed as the pleasure overtook him.

“Oh!” Spencer let out a sudden, high startled sound as you shoved the toy down onto his cock fully.

Your eyes once again flickered between his dick and his face, and you came to an utterly stunning realization.

He didn’t fully fit inside of the toy.

There was about an inch of his cock that was still sticking out of it at the base, and with the resistance your hand had brought up into, you knew that he was fully seated inside of it. Well - as fully seated as he could get, apparently.

It was one of the hottest things you had ever seen, and it sent a dizzying wave of endorphins through you. The sight of his cock not fully fitting into the silicone pussy was a stunning visual that made you realize just how deep he would go inside of you. It made your throat dry for a moment, forced you to swallow hard before you could speak.

“You’re right here, baby?” You asked, tapping a finger on the top of the toy, knowing that he would feel it as a vibration through the plastic.

He let out a gasp and bucked his hips up slightly, something that made you smile. He was too hazy to answer you already, something that you forgave for now. He was just too beautiful to scold in these moments.

“Fuck, you don’t even fit into this thing all the way, do you?” You gasped quietly, still absolutely marveling at the sight.

“I don’t?” Spencer gaped, finally looking down to where the toy was swallowing his cock, seeing as your words had captured his attention. “Is - is that bad?”

He was struck with worry. He thought that perhaps his cock wasn’t right - that he shouldn’t be doing this, that you wouldn’t like him.

It was in that moment that you realized what a treasure you had come across. A beautiful, intelligent man with a huge cock who had no idea how to use it. Someone who needed to be taught from scratch. Someone who could be molded into anything you wanted him to be. (At least in the sexual sense.) That, and he seemed to be naturally submissive and derive pleasure from following your orders.

You most definitely weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

“No, baby, that’s a good thing.” You assured him. “That’s a great thing.”

Spencer smiled at this - an expression that slacked off into a moan when you made your next move.

You gave the toy a slow half-pump before you seated it on his cock again, seemingly knocking the wind out of them. Then, you let go of the toy completely, letting him sit there with the fleshlight on his cock, bobbing in mid-air. It began to rise up slightly as the tightness of it hugged his cock, and unconsciously, he bucked up his hips, seeking more friction. But of course - the object was simply hanging there, seated on his cock, unmoving. It was an entirely fruitless venture.

With his hands tied behind his back, he needed you. It was an adorable struggle to watch for a moment, especially when his face knit with frustration and his thighs began to quiver from the effort.

“Please,” He begged. He was so pretty when he begged. “Help me.”

“You want me to help you fuck your toy?” You teased, reaching for it again.

“Please, Miss.”

When he whined like that, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him.

You took a good grip on the plastic then, and began a quick, smooth rhythm. You were eager to see his reaction to being fucked well, being fucked without hesitation.

Spencer immediately shuddered and began letting out harsh whimpers. He bit his lip, but it didn’t keep the sounds from wailing out of his throat as you pumped the toy up and down on his cock.

His chin was tilted down onto his chest, keeping his eyes locked on the place where the toy was devouring his hard cock. This caused his glasses to slip down his nose bridge slightly, something so entirely adorable to you in the moment. With his thighs tense and his stomach quaking, with that pool of artificial wetness leaking onto his pubes and slowly creeping down over his balls - he was so beautifully fucked out, the most perfect picture you had ever seen in your life.

“Oh - oh, oh, oh god!” His mouth fell open once again and an array of sounds fell out, a beautiful little choir that you could have only dreamed of coming from him. “Oh, please!”

You had to wonder if he was the type of person to swear when he came. Spencer was never the type of person to swear during other extreme situations. You had never seen him let out a single curse, not even with a gun to his head.

You had to wonder if you could be the one to make him swear.

“Please, Miss!” He squeaked out, sounding entirely wrecked and desperate. “Please, I’m close-!”

You couldn’t resist the temptation of stilling the toy completely, abruptly cutting off his orgasm once again. Spencer let out a broken sound as his muscles jolted and the feeling ebbed through him - so close, but not quite there. It was like a terrible ache in his muscles. Like a deep, terrible thirst with nothing to drink.

“Please,” He begged, his eyes shooting to lock onto you. “Please! Please, Miss.”

“Please, what, baby?” You teased him, reaching up and gently carding your fingers through his hair, brushing some of it off his forehead. He had a light sheen of sweat going, his body clearly strained. It was delightful to witness.

“Please,” He rasped out brokenly, so entirely desperate. “I - I need it.”

You bit your lip, holding back laughter at how perfect this was.

“Need what, baby?” You continued to tease him. “Come on, use your words.”

He swallowed hard, and stared at you with glassy desperation in his eyes. Either he was shy, or had no clue what exactly it was you wanted him to say - so you decided to guide him along.

“Say: I need to cum.” You told him, hoping that he was desperate enough now that he would simply repeat the filthy words.

“I - I need to cum.” He repeated, only mild hesitation on his lips.

“Say: I need you to make me cum.” You told him, pushing it a bit father.

“I need you,” He said, pausing slightly to catch his breath. “Need you to make me cum.”

“Good boy.” You praised him, running his hand through your hair once again.

You stood up this time, and put one hand on the back of the chair behind his shoulder for leverage, leaning over him as you took the toy in hand and started moving it once again. This gave him a perfect view down your top, and his lustful gaze locked onto your swaying cleavage as you worked on jacking the fake pussy on his cock. It was a maddening suction that had him grunting lowly with every thrust, letting out whines, flexing his hips to fuck his cock up into the toy.

“Does it feel good, pretty boy?” You asked, so heavily enjoying the sight of him so messy, so wrecked.

“Yes!” He easily replied.

“What are you thinking about? Hmm?” You couldn’t help but to ask.

“I - hnng - I - I don’t know!” He gaped.

Either he was lying, and simply didn’t want to tell you what was on his mind, or you had truly fucked his head empty. If it was the second, then you would heavily enjoy that fact.

“You don’t know?” You asked, your voice absolutely teasing once again. “Well, that’s a first.” You chuckled.

Spencer panted harshly, filling the space for a moment - along with the wet squelching of the toy moving up and down on his cock as your wrist continued to work. And then you became bold enough to ask the question that you truly wanted to.

“You thinkin’ about my pussy?” You prodded. “You imagining that this toy is me? Wondering what’s gonna be like when I finally sit on your cock?”

“Yes!” He was suddenly very eager to admit to this. Clearly it helped that he didn’t have to say the words for himself. “Yes! Yes, Miss! I want you. I want your-”

He cut himself off suddenly, moaning sharply as the tip of his cock brought up in the end of the fake pussy once again. It sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through him that had his skin boiling even hotter. You wondered if he would be bold enough to say the word ‘pussy’ or if you would have to heavily prompt him.

But that thought left your head completely with his next words.

“Oh! Oh, please! I’m so close!”

Again, feeling the devil rise up inside of you, you stopped off his orgasm.

This time, by pulling the toy away completely. You lifted the fleshlight off his cock, and watched with lustful joy as his cock slipped out of the opening with a wet pop. His thighs quaked with bitter agony and his long cock bobbed in the air, dripping thick waves of precum and lube as it separated from the toy.

Everything was so wet.

It was honestly a gorgeous sight, like a mini tidal wave dripping down onto the chair as the toy continued to leak the generous amount of lube you had put into it and his cock let out pathetic little spurts of precum. His pubes were glossy and matted together, his inner thighs were absolutely slick. He was glistening and whining harshly as the ruined orgasm crashed through his body, making his mind somehow even hazier and more desperate.

“God!” He choked out. “Please!”

He blinked harshly and a few tears escaped the corners of his eyes, making him look even more gorgeous somehow.

“Please - please! I need - I need - oh god!” He began sobbing nonsensically, begging you for release as he was practically on the verge of madness.

Your cunt throbbed at seeing him so wrecked - so utterly dependent on you.

“Hey, hey, shh.” You reached your free hand out and thumbed under the edge of his glasses - the thick lenses only magnifying his glassy eyes and lustful, broken tears all the more. You soothed your touch across his burning cheek, reassuring him. “You’ve been such a good boy. I’m gonna let you cum now. Okay?”

“Please!” He sobbed.

Hearing his voice so broken and needy probably shouldn’t have turned you on so much, but you absolutely loved it.

“Hey, shh,” You continued to rub his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “I just need one thing from you first.”

“Anything!” He easily declared.

“I need you to say: ‘may I cum, please?’” You told him.

It was a start on the scale of filthy things that you wanted to hear from his mouth, but it would definitely be oh so satisfying.

And then - as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, he blinked his big eyes and looked up at you through tear wet lashes, giving you the most pouty, fuckable look as he leaned into your hand before he said the words.

“May I cum, please?” He asked. And then, like the wet dream that he was, he seamlessly added on. “Please, Miss. I-I’ve been a good boy.”

“Yes, you have been.” You told him. “I’ll make you cum now baby.”

You used both hands to get his cock back inside of the toy - the sound of his cock fucking back into the fake pussy was so much wetter, the whine he let out made your knees weak.

You doubled your efforts now, even going so far as to squeeze your grip on the outside of the plastic - which made the silicone grip his cock just that little bit tighter as you slammed it up and down on him. Your movements were hard and fast in the effort to make him cum for certain this time.

“Oh, oh, oh, you - oh!” Spencer began babbling nonsense, his words barely broken up by harsh breaths being sucked into his lungs and whimpers emanating from his throat at the intense pleasure. “Oh, Miss - you - you’re so - ah!”

“Where’s that big IQ now, boy genius?” You taunted him, keeping up the brutal pace. “Did I make you all stupid? Did I melt your big brain? Huh?”

Spencer all but confirmed this as truth when he gurgled out nothingness as a response.

You felt slightly bolder, and you became slightly harsher in your degrading words. You almost couldn’t help yourself. You loved tearing him apart so much, having him melt under your touch. You couldn’t help but to brag about the amazing job you had done.

“Just a dumb little baby now, aren’t you?” You cooed, your voice entirely condescending. “Just a stupid little boy for me. So cumdrunk you can’t even think now, huh? There’s no boy genius here now. Just a dumb baby who needs to cum.”

He only inflated your ego with his next words.

“Yes!” He shouted out, entirely confirming what you had said - if he had even properly heard it through the blood pumping in his ears. To him, it might have just been the raw hum of your voice in the background, like an undertone with no true words to it. “Yes! Need - need t’ cum!”

It was the most incoherent you had ever known Doctor Spencer Reid to be.

You stared on eagerly as you watched his stomach tighten up, his lungs struggling for breath.

“Y/N-!” He gasped out your name right before it hit him.

And when it hit him, when he finally tumbled over the edge into the abyss - boy, it was a big one.

It was an intense, full body orgasm. His legs shook, his body arched off the chair as though he were having a seizure, actually putting a strain on his bonded arms for the first time. He wildly bucked up into the toy as you continued to work it over his cock, his mouth dropping open wildly as a strain of high pitched, needy whimpers poured out from between his pretty pink lips.

You were feeling selfish, and you wanted to see him cum at least a bit.

So knowing that he was riding the wave, you ripped the toy off him, causing a wounded noise to come out of him as his spurting cock fell from it. But you didn’t leave him hanging. You immediately replaced the toy with your hand, and put a tight grip around him, pumping viciously over his throbbing cock, wanting to milk the rest of the orgasm out of him by hand.

The sudden, shocking overstimulation sent his body into overdrive.

His thighs shook so hard it could have been mistaken for electrocution, he gasped like a drowning man - he would have begged for mercy, but he couldn’t catch his breath.

It was the best feeling he had ever experienced. It was pure euphoria, it was heaven on earth. It was an icy hot fire running through his veins that he didn’t even know was possible.

He had never experienced an orgasm like this before. He knew the feeling of an orgasm to be more like a dull tickle in his groin. But now that he had done this - he didn’t think he could go back to anything else.

Large spurts of cum blasted from his cock, so overpowering then that painted his stomach, his chest, and much to your delight - a few thick white spurts even dirtied his glasses when you angled his cock that way and kept viciously pumping him.

His cock was so hot that it felt like it could have burned your hand, so needy and bloated with blood from how long you had edged him. Eventually, when the tip of his cock began to weep out a pathetic clear liquid, and he was on the verge of sobbing once more, you let him go from your grip, finally giving him a moment to breathe.

You knew for certain that you would never be able to look at Spencer Reid again without seeing this imagery: him, completely fucked out, his face flushed red, mouth agape as he struggled for breath. His naked body, limp cock laying against his pelvis, painted in his own cum - including dirtying up his own glasses.

You loved those glasses even more now.

You couldn’t get him to swear - but fuck, that was really something.

“Thank you.” He said meekly, still struggling for breath. “Th-thank you, Miss.”

“Good boy.” You leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Such a good boy for me.”

Now, it was time to take care of him and make sure that he had a good come down.

You put the toy on the coffee table, placing it with the opening up so it wouldn’t leak everywhere - you wouldn’t clean it later. You also took off his glasses and placed them aside. Again - you would clean them later.

You rushed to untie his hands, and eased his arms back around his body by gently rubbing his shoulders, hoping that the muscles wouldn’t be too sore or stiff from being in the same position for so long.

“Such a good boy.” You assured him. “You did so well for me honey.”

He hummed in acknowledgement. Clearly, he was absolutely exhausted from the ordeal. You hoped you could get his tall, gangly self to his bed on your own if he was so fucked out and weak. You walked back around to his front and laid your lips on his forehead again, murmuring more praises against his skin as you continued to rub his shoulders and run your fingers through his hair. You told him how good he was, how perfect he had been for you, how beautiful he was.

After a few minutes, you felt his hands on your hips as he came out of the haze. He ran a thumb along the waistband of your pants, and his first words after that haze surprised you.

“What - what about you?” He asked.

Clearly, he meant that you should have an orgasm. Your cunt was aching dully between your thighs, and you were sure that you had soaked through your underwear. But that had been a lot for him, and you didn’t want to overwhelm him during the first time.

“That’ll be a lesson for next time.” You told him quietly. He hummed quietly at this. He felt assured by you simply saying ‘next time’. “I have to clean up your toy now, so you can use it again later. Then I’ll clean you up and tuck you into bed, okay, baby?”

He nodded. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

You hesitantly broke away from him and grabbed the toy, and as you moved to leave the room, you paused at him mumbling out more words.

“Can - can I have a glass of water, please?” He asked quietly.

“Of course you can, baby.”

You went into the kitchen and ran the toy under hot water - which you left going as you got a glass and filled it with cold water and ice from the dispenser. You were lucky to find a straw in the takeout bag from earlier - you put it in the glass and, while the hot water was still running in the sink, you rushed out to give Spencer a drink.

You held the glass while he chugged gratefully from it, and after a few moments, you ensured that he could hold it with his sex tired hands by himself and then you left to finish cleaning up the toy. You set it on his empty dish rack to drip dry (which was quite a sight). And then you went to the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to wipe him down. He was only slightly unsteady on his legs as you guided him to bed - his muscles shaking and tired after the whole amazing ordeal.

You found it endearing that his bed was unmade, surrounded by stacks of books that were lined up on the floor, rather than on any shelf.

You pulled back the covers completely and helped him get in, and you were tucking him in nicely when he asked the sweet question.

“Will you cuddle with me?” He asked quietly, looking up at you with those adorable, expectant eyes once again. “You know, for - for the aftercare?”

You likely would have done it simply because he asked, even if you didn’t deem it ‘necessary�� for aftercare. But because he asked, it was part of good care.

“Of course.” You answered. “I don’t have any pjs, so do you mind if I sleep in my underwear?”

You had just tucked him into bed naked, and he was asking you to lay down beside him like that. But still, you wanted to ask how comfortable he would be if you were in a state of undress.

His eyes shined with interest at the idea of seeing you at least partially undressed.

“I don’t mind.” He told you.

You nodded, and stepped back slightly to begin undressing.

“So - did you have fun?” You asked. You suspected that he had entirely enjoyed himself, but you did want to hear him say it.

Spencer grinned at this. “I think what we just did has changed my definition of ‘fun’ entirely.” He told you. “In a good way. So you know.”

You preened at the idea that you had shifted Spencer’s worldview. Someone who most likely spent his free time reading research papers and playing through chess games entirely on his own and called it ‘fun’ would now be thinking about spending his free time playing with you instead.

You stripped out of your pants, socks, and work blouse, which left you in your simple cotton underwear, a thin cotton camisole and your bra underneath. You decided to take off your bra underneath your shirt and just sleep in the cami and panties for comfort. You knew your underwear was stuck to your cunt from your previous burning arousal, and Spencer’s eyes did focus hard on that, and then focused even harder on the outline of your bare breasts as you ditched your bra off to the side.

If he had the ability to get hard again after that spectacular orgasm, he probably would have been throbbing at the sight of you.

You lifted up the covers and crawled into bed with him, cuddling into his side as he tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist. Your stomach fluttered when he kissed the top of your head before you felt his body relax into the mattress.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, clearly exhausted. “I love it when you teach me things.”

...

Keep Reading Here - Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

#sundrop writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

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bamfkeeper · 2 months ago

Text

Sub.

RQ: 'Hi! I've absolutely adored your work so far! Is there a chance you're up for more gender neutral dom reader, dom/sub, bondage and punishment type beat similar to the previous with Kurt? That type of thing is so hard to come across.' - Anon RQ 2: 'i NEED more sub Kurt getting dicked down (UR BLOG IS AWESOME!! Most in character kurt EVER)' - @wheezyth3dem0n

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader (reader's junk either organic or silicone depending on your preference.)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Smut | dom!reader/sub!kurt, light BDSM, bondage, dom/sub dynamics, some impact play, anal play/anal sex.

A/N: Haven't written nsfw in a minute, most of my focus has been on sfw stuff. But I'm a sucker for sub!Kurt. I don't see a lot of it or read many fics of it so I'm happy to contribute. These requests were from two different blogs, but were similar enough that I combined them together. Not proofread ignore mistakes. WC: 3.3k

"Ready?" You asked him softly, holding up a long silk ribbon for Kurt to see. He looked at the red silk and he nodded slowly, shifting on the bed and sitting up more to face you properly.

"Ja, I am ready..." he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He remained motionless for a brief moment, his body tense with anticipation. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze towards you, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and obedience. "How should I position myself?" he inquired, his tone laced with a hint of eagerness, clearly awaiting your guidance.

You couldn't help but let out a low, appreciative hum in response. He was always so compliant, so eager to please, constantly seeking your direction. You liked him this way…so easy to mold. A familiar thrill of excitement coursed through your body, settling in the pit of your stomach. His yellow eyes, reminiscent of a cat's in the darkness, emitted a faint, ethereal glow in the dimly lit room. Those eyes, wide and filled with an innocent sweetness, looked up at you trustingly, seemingly oblivious to the intense situation that was about to unfold. The juxtaposition of his apparent naivety and the looming events sent a shiver down your spine, further heightening your anticipation.

You circled him slowly, savoring the palpable aura of submission emanating from his form. With each step, you felt your authority over him grow stronger, an intoxicating sensation that coursed through your veins. The power dynamic between you was unmistakable, and you reveled in it. He squirmed uncomfortably on the floor, his movements betraying a mix of anticipation and trepidation. As you completed your circuit, rounding to stand before him once more, his eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours for a brief, charged moment before dropping submissively.

"Now, let's see..." you mused aloud, your voice a silky purr that seemed to caress the air between you. "I think some rope will add a delightful element to our little scene. Red rope, to be precise." A slow, predatory smile curved your lips as you considered the visual. "It will look so good against that exquisite blue skin of yours, don't you think, my dear?" The words rolled off your tongue with deliberate sensuality, each syllable dripping with promise. Your tone alone was enough to elicit a reaction from Kurt, who struggled valiantly to suppress a soft, needy whine that threatened to escape his throat.

You carefully take the velveteen rope, a thoughtful purchase you made to ensure it wouldn't cause any discomfort or harm to his delicate skin, you knew how painful and uncomfortable rope burns were, especially for Kurt and his fuzzy skin. The soft, plush texture of the rope feels luxurious between your fingers as you turn towards him, your eyes meeting his with a mix of anticipation and tenderness. "Now," you say, your voice low and gentle, "I need your wrists, please."

Kurt's gaze meets yours, a flicker of trust and excitement dancing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he extends his arms, offering his wrists to you. You notice the slight twitch of his tail, nervous energy coursing through him. It's a beautiful blend of anxiety and eagerness that you recognize and appreciate during your intimate moments together.

As you begin to wrap the soft rope around his wrists, you're acutely aware of the weight of his trust in you. The responsibility of his vulnerability isn't lost on you, and you take a moment to offer a reassuring smile. "You're doing wonderfully," you murmur, your fingers working deftly yet gently with the rope. "Remember, we can stop at any time if you need to."

You understand, perhaps better than most, the profound level of trust required for these moments. It's not just about the physical act, but the emotional connection, the willingness to be completely open and exposed to another person. As you secure the final knot, you take a moment to appreciate the beauty of this trust, the depth of the connection you share with Kurt.

He raises his gaze to meet yours, his arms slowly descending to rest in front of him. You maintain a deliberate silence, allowing him the opportunity to acclimate to the sensation of the rope against his skin. Your keen eyes scan his form, searching for any subtle indications - a twitch of muscle, a flicker of expression - that might betray discomfort or unease beneath his composed exterior. However, Kurt's demeanor remains steady, his body language conveying a sense of calm acceptance.

After a moment of quiet assessment, he lifts his head once more, his eyes locking with yours. His voice, when it comes, is steady and tinged with a hint of curiosity as he poses the question, "What now?"

"Now..." you whispered, your voice a soft caress against the silence, "I want you to sit very still for me, like a good boy." Your words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promises. You held his jaw in a grip that was both gentle and firm, a delicate balance of tenderness and control. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you until your lips were mere millimeters from his skin. With care, you allowed them to graze over the bridge of his nose, a feather-light touch that sent electricity coursing through both of you.

The contact, brief as it was, seemed to ignite something primal within Kurt. A visible shiver ran through his body, starting from where your lips had touched and rippling outwards like waves on a pond. His tail now thrashed wildly behind him, betraying the intensity of his emotions. You watched as his throat worked, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly, clearly struggling to maintain his composure under your intense gaze and touch.

"I want you to move to the bed for me," you cooed softly, your voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. "Lay on your belly, and keep that beautiful tail of yours to the side." Your words were a tender command, filled with both authority and care. He was in a complete haze by now, his senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. His bright eyes, usually so alert and focused, were now foggy with desire and submission. A soft whine escaped his lips, a sound that was both vulnerable and eager.

With visible effort, he managed to get to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate as he obeyed your command. Each step towards the bed seemed to take an eternity, his body responding to your will rather than his own. He laid down on the bed, his body sinking into the soft sheets. His arms extended in front of him, creating a long, elegant line from his shoulders to his fingertips. The red rope that bound his wrists together stood out in stark contrast against his skin as you said it would, beautiful red swirls wrapping tightly yet tenderly around his indigo skin.

"That's it... I want your tail to be kept to the side at all times, understand? No exceptions, no matter what happens," you spoke authoritatively as you stood behind him, your eyes meticulously raking over his form in this vulnerable position. Your gaze lingered on the curve of his spine, the tension in his muscles, and the way his tail twitched involuntarily under your scrutiny.

"Ja..." he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper and almost caught in his throat. The single word hung in the air, laden with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. His tail twitched again, more pronounced this time, the end curling slightly as he exerted visible effort to keep it off to the side as instructed. The thin, velvety fur along its length bristled slightly at your command.

You began with a gentle touch, your fingers delicately threading through the soft strands at the nape of his neck. With deliberate slowness, you initiated a trail of tender kisses, starting from the sensitive skin just below his ear. Your lips traced a path across the expanse of his neck, each kiss like a gentle whisper.

As your ministrations continued, you gradually moved downward, your lips exploring the contours of his body. You paused momentarily at his shoulder blades, pressing soft kisses against the taut muscles there. Then, with meticulous attention, you traced the line of his spine with your fingertip, your lips following the gentle curve of each vertebra.

Throughout your loving exploration, Kurt's reactions were a beautiful symphony to your ears, a slow building one that you would for sure hear more of shortly. Soft whines escaped his lips, intermingling with gentle moans that resonated in the quiet room. His body trembled slightly beneath your touch, clearly eager for more.

You moved down to the round of his ass and rubbed over the muscles there, sighing as you felt him relax under your touch. Gently, you spread him lightly, looking at his pretty purple hole, teasingly pulsing as it flirted with you. "As much as I'd love to just push inside, I know how much you love to play first." You stood up fully and went to your bedside table, grabbing a handful of items.

When you came back to his side, you placed the items along the bed. There was a bottle of lube amongst the toys you had, your hand found the clear bottle and you squeezed some out onto your fingers. "This will be cold," your fingers brushed his hole, making Kurt tense up at the sensation.

"Aah..." he sighed, his body shuddered, "It is...cold." There was a chuckle in his voice, a hint of shyness in it too. He was twitching slightly as your fingers slowly worked into him, the lube aiding you as your fingers gently moved in and out of him. He was tense at first, but as your fingers pumped in and out, you could feel the tight muscle begin to relax.

"Doing okay so far?" You slowly inserted a third finger into him, earning a gasp and soft moan from Kurt in response. He shivered and nodded, "Uh-huh...ja. Gut." He swallowed thickly and he pushed back against your fingers, gaining more confidence as there was no discomfort. "I'm ready for more," he rasped to you, turning enough so he could see your face.

Kurt was flushed, the German squirming with your fingers inside him, he clearly wanted more and he was getting a bit greedy. You pulled your fingers out of him, a slick pop sounded as you did so, his hole throbbed at the absence of your digits.

"Don't whine too much, I'll be filling you up in just a moment. For now...let's just put this here." At your words, Kurt felt a cold sensation on his hole again, though it was firmer than your fingers and more round. As you pushed the plug into him, he felt his ass stretch around the bulb before it settled inside. He moaned out once it was placed in him, his cock was leaking heavily with arousal and staining the sheets below him.

"Good boy, Kurt." You praised, leaning and kissing his tailbone. "I'm going to need you to slicken me up too, so get on your knees for me, baby..." your voice sounded so sweet and hypnotic in his ears, his body followed automatically. He knelt in front of you, looking up as you held your cock in your hand, slowly stroking it. "Suck...get me nice and prepared for you."

His half-lidded eyes blinked slowly at your dick, his tongue came to wet his lips before he scooted closer to you. The flick of his tail behind him showed his raised nerves, his excitement, and he carefully took you in his mouth. He had to be careful, his fangs made giving blowjobs a bit tricky, but he learned.

The first movements were slow, he gave gentle sucks with each bob of his head, taking more into his throat until he was practically deepthroating you without any visible struggle. You let out a soft moan at the raunchy display, fingers tangling in his curly hair and guiding him. "You're filthy," you managed, gently moving your hips forward as his mouth remained on you, throat open to your shallow thrusts and allowing the tip to slide past his tongue and deeper against the flesh of his throat.

He really got into it, sucking hard and eagerly, making you grunt and moan back at him, he got you nice and sloppy, the light fuzz on his face and chin were coated in his saliva as he pulled off you to breathe. "Aah..." he panted, one of his bound hands awkwardly stroking you while his hot breath kept your head warm. "I want it now." He drooled on you, swallowing thickly, his gaze needy.

"So soon? I was hoping to tease you some more baby..." You looked down and tilted your head, "But I see you're a little impatient. Alright...I'll give you what you want. On the bed again. Lay on your belly...just like that, good boy." You guided him to lay down, talking to him the whole time. His tail obediently moved to the side, that pretty muscle on the underside flexing lightly as your thumb ran up it.

"Aah...bitte..."

"Patience..." You chuckled down at him, reaching for the plug and slowly pulling it out of the tight muscle. Damn...he was still so tight. He was going to feel incredible.

You took the time to spread more lube on him just to help, and you positioned your head at his hole. You felt the muscle tightening around the tip, your breath came out sharply as you pushed inside. There was still some resistance, but overall you slid in easy. Kurt mewled feeling you enter his ass, his face deep violet as he squirmed his hips.

"Bitte, move," he whined, clearly a little impatient. You smirked and held his narrow hips, giving him a quick pop on the ass. He gasped as his tail flicked sharply, his hole clenched around you and he whimpered. "I-I said bitte!" He added, as if it were going to entice you.

"I know you did, baby...I'll move for you, you've been so good for me tonight." You praised and ran your hands up and down his back once, a slow and soothing motion before you began to move inside him, your hips pulling and pushing your cock. The thrusts were deliberate and careful, just in case there was any pain there, but you soon realized he didn't feel any discomfort so you picked up the pace.

Kurt groaned as he felt the muscles in his as stretch, it was such a delicious burn, it was dull but enough to make him feel like he was throbbing. His cock bounced, hitting his abdomen with every thrust you gave to him, the poor head inflamed and leaking heavy bits of precum, the thick beads falling to the sheets and creating a web of arousal from his fuzzy belly to his tip with each swing.

You held his hips tight as you fucked him harder and with increased vigor, knowing he was approaching his orgasm soon, you had been thrusting into him for a few minutes now and the way he tightened around your cock and cried for you told you enough. You gave his ass another light spank, earning you a delightful moan. "Does that feel good? Do you like being spanked? I would've never guessed...you're secretly a little deviant aren't you?" You teased, another spank, and another. None of them were hard, but enough to leave a little sting.

"You gonna cum baby? I feel you...you're moving a lot more, chasing that high aren't you?" You teased in his ear, leaning over him while you kept his hips still so your thrusts felt deeper inside him. You angled his body ever so slightly, finally finding that pesky spot. That sweet, electric spot that hid from you, now exposed to your head as you hit the spongy flesh every time. Kurt cried out in pleasure as you continued to stimulate his prostate, you swore you heard him begging within the choir of moans and cries he gave you. "Aa..ach! Don't stop! Bitte, bitte...! So gut..."

He couldn't hold himself back, and he let out the sweetest broken mewl as he came, his cock swollen as thick ropes of white shot from him. They coated his abdomen and chest, some on the blankets below him, a strand hit his face. He accidentally hit you with his tail as the thing thrashed around wildly, and you had to grab hold of it before he hit you again. You felt your body respond to him and you too reached your release with a sudden burst of rapid energy.

Your hips stilled and you both took deep breaths, recovering from your passions. He was spent, laying in his mess as his legs gave out from below him, no that he seemed to care at the moment. Your hands grasped his ass, spreading him as you slowly pulled out of his greedy hole, the sweet thing now slightly swollen and more purple than before. "Pretty boy...you did so good..." You praised, kissing his spine and laying beside him.

The stickiness of the bed made you cringe slightly, but you pushed that discomfort aside, your presence to him was what mattered most right now. With deliberate care, you gently reached for his arms, your fingers working meticulously to unbind the ruby rope that had held him. As you worked, you hummed softly and spoke in a tender, reassuring tone to poor, exhausted Kurt. "That's it, sweetheart... we're almost done," you cooed to calm his nerves and help him through the daze. He let out a soft, appreciative whine in response to you, the sound tugging at your heartstrings, knowing he felt completely spent.

As the last of the rope fell away, you discarded it without a second thought, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. Your attention remained wholly focused on him, your fingers returning to his skin. You began to gently massage the areas where the rope had been, your touch both comforting and therapeutic. The careful pressure of your fingertips worked to soothe any lingering discomfort and restore circulation to his arms.

He instinctively gravitated towards you, nestling himself more snugly against your side as if seeking refuge in your warmth. A deep, contented sigh escaped his lips as your gentle ministrations continued, you could feel the tension that had been coiled tightly within his body begin to dissipate, like ice melting under the tender caress of spring sunshine. His muscles gradually relaxed under your soothing touch.

"D-danke..." he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. His head shifted slightly, angling to look at you more directly. His eyes held a vulnerable softness that spoke volumes, one only you got to see after being so intimate. "Feels... wunderbar," he murmured, his German accent more pronounced in his relaxed state. "Bitte... don't stop."

"Okay...but in a minute, we need to get you to the shower..." You smiled tenderly at his behavior, observing how sleepy and dazed he appeared. His vulnerability in this moment only strengthened your resolve to care for him, a task you were more than happy to undertake. It was your responsibility and you felt joyous that he trusted you enough to allow himself to be this way with you.

You helped him settle into a more comfortable position. He responded with a drowsy nod, his body relaxing under your attentive touch. As he got comfy, you continued your ministrations, your fingers working methodically to massage his arms and the areas where the ropes had been intricately wrapped around his skin. The intricate patterns left by the ropes were still visible, you hadn’t realized the complexity of the bondage, but you were pleased to note that the skin remained unbroken.

You knew you needed to get up to wash him off of all the sticky cum and sweat, but...looking down at how sweet he was curled up against you made you hesitate from moving right then. You sighed internally, playing with his curly hair and scratching his scalp.

Well...five more minutes wouldn't hurt.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Images: Pinterest, X-Men '97

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