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kairiscorner · 10 months

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(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

since you silly little pooks are down bad little gremlins,

make sure to look him in the eye when he's talking to you.

summary: you made a grave mistake, directly disobeying orders from the big man himself, miguel o'hara, and endangering him and the rest of your team on a mission. thank goodness it was just his suit that suffered the damage, but you and him have a lot to talk about. alone. you know, if you wanted to be a little brat... you should just tell him straight up, but you can't even look at him right now. it's very disrespectful not to look at someone in the eye when they're talking to you, y'know?

word count: 2,541

warnings: slight degredation (nothing too bad, just a lot of reminding you about what you did was stupid), mentions of scars and wounds, slight cursing, and bad spanish translation (please correct me if i'm wrong!)

"tú… vas a ser mi muerte." he said in a low voice, a complete octave lower than the voice he used to scream orders at you to fall back, not to head straight first for the villain; but of course, spiders your type were never one to listen.

an annoying little maggot, that was miguel's assessment of you since the very minute you set foot in this facility. every mission that ever went south was due to you and your hubris, your incompetence, your need to flaunt your bravado in combat. you were lucky he put off kicking you out and cutting off all your connection to everyone at HQ, because you were a hair's length away from overstepping the very boundary of staying in this elite force of spider people to finding yourself disgraced from them.

you always gloated your strength, how many villains you took down in your universe, and were loud and rowdy. trying to break into your place in the spider society, you felt, was one of the easiest things to do. just make friends, punch the bad guys, and then the rest comes easy. but the reality of it was far from what you imagined, it was... seriously not what you imagined.

"i couldn't understand a single thought that entered that head of yours as we were fighting." miguel scolded you in a strained voice as he was being patched up by his machinery. the side of his face was bloodied, it would leave scars, but none that noticeable. his knitted eyebrows and piercing brown turning red eyes were fixated upon you and your hunched over, insecure, shrinking figure as you felt him diminish every ounce of your self-confidence bit by bit.

he sighed in exhaustion as he flinched at the treatment of his machineries, shaking his head slowly as he massaged his temples slowly, wishing that the frustration you gave him from your pathetic stunt would just disappear. but the pain never eased, instead, it merely intensified; he grunted as the machineries patched him up, the nanofibers of his suit dissipated as you watched splotches of his bronze, tanned skin emerge from the once dark blue and red patches of his suit.

you couldn't help but watch as the suit glitched slightly as it went away, disappearing into nothingness as his flesh wounds were being patched up. "tan jodidamente estúpida. so... so fucking stupid." he muttered out as he released a string of grunts from his soft, caramel lips as lyla adjusted the settings of the machinery as they patched him up.

"do you not value your own life?" he asked out with a low voice, as if he didn't care what answer escaped the confines of your lips, whatever words formed out of your mouth, as long as you spoke, he'd find something, anything, to retort to your argument--to prove you did a stupid, stupid thing. and that you were so stupid for not listening to him.

you opened your mouth slightly ajar to speak, to utter even a single word; to release a single sound from your vocal cords... but nothing. your throat as dry as an abandoned well, as dry as a vast, sandy desert, as an unirrigated field that once bore fresh crops.

you had nothing when he peered at you from above like this, glowering over you and penetrating your once keen and eager to fool around facade, whittling you down to nothingness.

"what? not gonna say anything?" he asked, his voice a little louder and more composed now as the healing process began and mended at the worn and torn muscles on his beautifully sculpted figure. he slowly stood up, his legs quaking slightly as he tried to carry himself up. he lost his balance for a few seconds and clung on to his desk to support himself. his breathing was labored, his nostrils were flared; he was pained and furious.

you felt a shiver crawl up your spine as he turned to face you, a good portion of the mesh fabric on the left side of his body was completely dissipated, the cuts inflicted on the suit turned white and glitched out, spasming, distorting the image on his body. miguel noticed you were staring and tried to hide the limping of his leg as he strut over to you, his left leg being pushed off the ground faster than his right.

you felt a wave of shame engulf you, reminding you that this very man almost sacrificed himself to save you while you seemed like a very cute spider to skin for the villain you faced off not long ago, who you provoked and brought your team to their attention, endangering all of you. he fought them off as best as he could, but he was continually on the receiving end of the blows and punches the villain reserved for the rogue little spider that weaved a web too obvious for its prey to fly into.

you didn't listen to miguel when he told you to--

"i told you to stay put," he admonished you in an irrefutably strained voice that he tried his hardest to mask with anger, or irritation. he didn't like to be looked upon as weak, as pitiful, and he sure as hell wasn't going to show that side of him to you of all people. never, in a million years, ever.

he grabbed your cheeks as he noticed your downcasted gaze and angled your face up to gaze into his now red eyes. "weren't you ever taught to look people in the eye when they're talking to you?" he questioned you for your seemingly rude demeanor as he tightened his grip on your cheeks, insinuating that he was quite irked with how, not only did you risk his and everyone else's lives on your team, but you dare disrespect him in his own office while he was already limping--suffering the repercussions of your own hasty decisions.

miguel breathed in deeply, his chest expanding as he took in that deep breath. he shut his eyes to collect himself so as not to let his frustration explode all over you right then and there. he was ready to burst at you, burst at you and let you feel everything he's been holding in from you for the longest time. it drives him mad knowing he's let you provoke him all you want, all the time. he wants to get his control over brats like you back, and if it has to be through this way... so be it.

he squeezed your cheeks, his grip tightening with every breath you took, moving your eyes so as not to look at him, so as not to be so frightened of him. "you're a damn brat, you know that?" he whispered as he moved his face closer to yours, his suit dissipating bit by bit the closer to you he got. he didn't seem like he had any intention of moving back, he was just keen on looking at you right in the eye and forcing you to look back at him, to acknowledge him and respect him for once.

"i-i know," you stutter out, swallowing the lump in your throat. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the pad of his thumb brush over your cheek and let out a ragged breath, which felt hot on your face. "go on." miguel commanded you as he let go, pulling away from you.

you hesitated for a moment as miguel stepped back, his wide back now facing yours. a small triangular view of his bronze hued skin, and you noticed... he had an assortment of freckles dotting his back, down to the back of his forearm.

he looked absolutely breathtaking, even clad in the mesh fabric suit, even with the mask sheathing his angular face from the world; he was a sight to behold. you hated yourself so much for admiring him when all he can think of was the stupid stunt you pulled trying to show off.

miguel's head turned around yet again to catch you peeking at the flesh showing from the tears on the suit. he scowled. "i told you to keep talking, not to keep gawking." he reprimanded you as he turned his head back around and shook his head, muttering yet another curse word in spanish.

you cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts. "i know, i'm... a brat, and i'm sorry i endangered you all." you spoke in two breaths, hoping to get the heart of your thoughts across, trying to hold back from him the fear you had of him at that very moment. honestly, you were always scared of miguel, always afraid that if you pushed him off the edge... it wouldn't be him who'd fall. he'd hold on to your mistake and pull you down in his place.

that was your biggest fear; the fear of him hurting you, forgetting you, abandoning you and starting from scratch with a new recruit, a better recruit. one who didn't talk smack all the time behind his back, one who followed protocols and didn't steal equipment for joyrides to other earths, one who didn't travel to other earths to screw around--one who followed orders and didn't do things their own way, which would jeopardize not only themselves, but the rest of the elite members of the multiverse's sole defenders.

someone who would listen to him and look at him in the eye when he spoke.

"be honest," he began as lyla fixed up the glitchy parts of his suit as he pinched the bridge of his nose with shut eyes and a hung head, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle as he tried to keep himself composed, "do you think you know what you're doing here?" he asked in a deep, contemplative voice as the suit glitched out even more, despite the ai's best efforts to fix it, the glitching worsened.

"oh, genial." miguel uttered as he sighed again. the villain must've been a real wise guy to know how to mess with such hard to break nanotechnology and mesh fabric that not even miguel himself could pierce or cut through. "ok, uh, not to interrupt your sermon, but you need to take it off. completely." lyla said as she ran a diagnostics protocol on the suit to check what was salvageable on it.

miguel stared at the ai incredulously. "no, keep it on, it's fine." he muttered as he turned to face you, his right pectoral muscle showing just the slightest bit. his suit phasing in and out of functionality as he placed his hands on his waist, staring at you as you abruptly looked away. he raised an eyebrow and eyed you up and down. "why so shy now? you were running your big mouth earlier in combat, why stop now?"

you tried to speak again, but all that came out were unintelligible mumble with the words, "seeing you like this" being repeated over and over and over again. miguel sighed and sauntered over to you and grabbed your cheeks again, this time, more roughly.

"i've had it up to here with your shitty attitude towards me." he said as his eyes narrowed at you, his eyebrows nearly forming into one angry, furry unibrow as he tried to maintain eye contact with you. your eyes wandered down past his neck, to his now semi-exposed collarbone, all the way to his rib area; his right rib's flesh being exposed now as the suit dissipated after continually glitching.

"why are you so insistent upon staring at the absolute wreck my suit is now because of your actions?" he huffed as he angled your face up to look at him, leaning closer and closer towards you as you were now inches away from his face. he snarled for a split second, and you watched as his fangs were bared for that small moment.

"you... need to be taught proper manners." he scolded you as his nose brushed over yours, causing you to shudder; the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as miguel fixated his now glowing, scarlet eyes upon your own. "listen to me, very. carefully." he said as his claws slowly dug into the flesh of your cheeks, grazing you slightly as he brushed the pads of his fingers upon your cheeks and chin.

"you better remember to... look at me when i'm talking to you, understand?" he emphasized as he spoke in a low, low voice, the rest of his suit vanishing as the glitching worsened, his left pectoral muscle now revealing itself, down to his abdominal area, where you noticed his sculptured muscles and scars from the fights. the newly emerged wounds from the battle you botched remained on his skin's surface, noticeable still due to having been fresh a few minutes ago.

he scoffed as he noticed your breathing became labored. he let you go when you mewled at his claws digging deeper into the fat of your cheeks. "i'm... sorry." you uttered as you finally looked up at him. he clicked his tongue as he let you go. "you're lucky i'm too weak to do anything to you right now." he said in a calmer manner as you rubbed over where he grazed upon you.

he turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and his expression softened the tiniest bit when he watched tears well up in your eyes.

"...i'm sorry, too." he murmured as he finally took off the suit and sat back in his chair, in dark navy shorts.

your eyes wandered down to his toned, tanned calves and thighs, how every bit of him seemed so detailed and sculpted; as if he was exerting force and effort upon every muscle in everything he did. "you have a tendency to run your mouth off and not look before you leap when you're feeling hella cocky, but when you're cornered... you shut up immediately and start staring like a hawk." he pointed out, rather sarcastically.

he stretched his leg a little, wincing at the pain. his grunts were guttural as you noticed the slight limp in how the leg was resting. you got up and looked at his poor leg. "what, staring at me at a distance half-naked isn't enough for you?" he asked, deadpanned.

"i could, um... try easing the pain for you." you offered as you meekly pointed to his leg. he threw his head back and sighed deeply, his chest rising and falling as he did. he looked at you lazily and raised an eyebrow. "is that to make up for all the headaches and migraines you give me?" he asked.

you nodded profusely and he planted his face in his palm, chuckling a little to himself. he looked up at you, gradually, and a small smirk curved upon his lips. he shrugged. "alright, work your magic." he said as he leaned back. "if you fuck me over again, i will kick you out, though." he warned, to which you grinned at.

maybe... you'd keep being a little brat to him, if it meant you could see him this way, and... touch him this way.

a/n: ok so if we do hit 400 likes, i'll make a part 2 + whimpering miggy :>

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @fictarian @pixqlsin @thecoolerdor

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv spiderman #miguel spiderman #CURLING MY TOES KICKING MY FEET TWIRLING MY HAIR BATTING MY EYELASHES GIGGLING TEEHEE

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mellow-elbow · 1 month

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Rouge but… big goth eyelashes

#rouge the bat #sonic the hedgehog #I just think it would be cool if eyelash characters had distinct eyelashes that fit their personality teehee #my art

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suckerbus · 7 months

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He is my little guy I dont care if he eats people!! 2nd version with original coloring under the cut

#fear and hunger #funger #f&h #ragnvaldr #fear and hunger ragnvaldr #gore tw #my art #I had like 5 different versions of this drawing I could not get the vibe right #I finally did it though #I am very interested in him lately #bats eyelashes teehee

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angelpuns · 10 months

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Me, laying down in bed after spending several hours working on the next Kid Leo pages: welp, time to relax * opens Google doc of Sparks of Blue chapter 2*

#i promise this is relaxing to me #therapeutic even #im a capricon what can i say #*bats eyelashes*#im just a silly little guy #who will actualy rot if i dont work 24/7 #teehee #i did take a long botw break tho!!#LMAO IM REALIZING I ALSO WENT TO MY ACTUAL JOB TODAY #i forgot about that #;)#what a funny silly time ive done

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lostjammer · 8 months

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greely room.......

#bats my eyelashes at you cutely if you have greely plushies you should send me them teehee (<- desperate)

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ink-yy · 1 month

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whag the hell third mutual in 2 days what the !!!

if you are nicies enough to me i will follow you im not that hard to pleaseee ehe

#YAY ASKS #SORRY THIS COMES OFF AS WEIRD #i have NPD so i lovere compliments teehee bats my eyelashes

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floramau · 1 year

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I’m feeling chatty and have oc info dumping syndrome so uhm...could someone send questionsssss? <:3

#flo rambles #* kicks my feet twirls my hair and bats my eyelashes *#heehee teehee giggle!!

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therevengeoffrankenstein · 7 months

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kinda wish i woulda known that peepee dubya had braces too when i actually had them 😭

#*batting my eyelashes* hello fellow brace face teehee..... *twirling hair*#def had my rubber bands in fabba colors at least once or twice lol #myevilposts #teeth tw #braces were one of the worst things that ever happened to me and i'd managed to have keep them in immaculate shape too.#and got them off earlier than they had expected bc of how good i was at taking care of my teefers! g-d bless!#it was just that fucking bad.#straight teeth at what cost...? a whole fucking lot of money + a decent chunk of my then remaining sanity.#i tend to block out that period of my life bc it was so traumatizing. i constantly forget until i see old pictures of how #my teeth used to look and then i remember. All The Stuff.#horrible terrible! once again soooo bad it was soooo bad i do not recommend it.#still need a new retainer bc this one is old as hell i keep forgetting to be mad about it.

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oncasette · 29 days

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FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

OK LAST ONE I PROMISE. but you know I had to send in a theseus request so … theseus + "You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!" teehee 😋

'𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡 (𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢)

theseus scamander x fem!reader

summary: 1.7k

“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.

or the one where theseus can't stand your secretary.

warnings: none that i can think of, semi-possessive theseus?

masterlist

He was just your secretary. That’s what you keep telling yourself. And Theseus. All he does is your filing and allow people entry into your office. And bring you your morning coffee without you needing to ask for it, with the exact amount of cream and sugar you take without you ever having told him in the past.

Of course, this was just him being excellent at his job, it was why you’d kept him on for so long. There was a quick turnover rate for secretaries at the ministry. A year or two, at most, before they were either fired by their respective bosses or they left to pursue a field they were actually passionate about. But not Richard. No, you’d been working with Richard for the better part of five years. Long before you’d ever met your now boyfriend–if you could even call him that, only having been on a dozen or so dates at this point. Not that the question hadn’t been on the tip of his tongue since the first time you batted your eyelashes at him.

That didn’t stop Theseus from clenching his jaw every morning when he stopped by to say hello only to find your secretary to have abandoned his post outside your office in favor of holing up in your loveseat and carrying on with whatever annoyingly dull topic of conversation he’d chosen to occupy your time with. It didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes at the way his hand lingered over yours as he dropped off the accounts you needed that afternoon during your lunch break, little more than a glance cast askew at him as he sat beside you. It didn’t stop him from biting his tongue so hard it bled each time you brought Richard up in the evenings when he walked you out of the building.

No, it didn’t matter how long you’d worked with the man. Theseus knew a crush when he saw one.

“What’s wrong, love? You’ve been tense all day,” you say, gently placing a hand onto his shoulder. He’d been sitting in your office for a little over an hour, his work day having already drawn to a close but you’d had to finish up a last minute assignment your boss had thrown on your desk fifteen minutes before you were supposed to leave. Theseus hadn’t minded waiting.

“Nothing,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Richard had been especially irritating that day. He’d barely had five minutes alone with you before you’d forced your secretary to go home once the clock hit six.

“It’s nothing, lovely. Promise,” he says. At the very least, having this time with you was beginning to dull the headache that had formed earlier in the day. He thinks it started when Richard had once again waltzed into your office during your lunch hour with the hopes of taking you out to the bakery a couple blocks away.

“Okay,” you drawl, eyebrows drawn together.

It’s then that Theseus notices the parchment stuck to your desk lamp. It was a charmed doodle, one that poorly illustrated a man with smoke shooting out of his ears sitting at a desk played on a loop. To keep you company while you work - Rich. Of course.

“You ready?” you ask, shuffling around documents and files on your desk to deal with on Monday when you return before grabbing your bag off the ground and slipping your coat on. You circle around the furniture in your office to stand in front of Theseus. He ran a firm hand across his brow bone as he stood to meet you. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth as he nods.

It’s hard to ignore how stiff he’s become.

“Are we still good for dinner at yours tonight?” you ask.

“Of course,” he hums. He wasn’t going to let this ruin the one of the few evenings a week he got to spend with you. Or, at least, he was going to try to not let it ruin it.

Once he was sure you’d both collected the remainders of your belongings, he takes your hand in his to apparate the two of you to his flat. Since you weren’t going back to your place, he didn’t feel the need to walk the two of you all the way across the ministry just to disapparate from there. He only did that to spend a couple extra minutes with you, anyway.

It’s only the second time you’ve been to his place, but the short wave of nausea prevents you from feeling too overwhelmingly nervous about it. You set your bag beside the door before you move to the kitchen to sit and let the urge to vomit begin to dissipate. Theseus smooths a palm over down your arm as he slides up behind you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. His nose brushes against your cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe a penny…” you trail off.

“A penny?” he huffs amused.

“For your thoughts,” you say.

“I told you it was nothing.”

“Darling, I know something’s wrong. I want to help if I can,” you say, tilting your head back enough to look at his face. He bends again to kiss your forehead. It’s tender, sweet. Nearly domestic.

“It’s just work stress, I guess,” he says. He wasn’t technically lying.

“I’m sorry,” you hum, bringing a hand up to smooth across his cheek for a second. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help if you get some of it off your chest.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you, love,” he says as he begins to move away from your chair. He meanders around the small kitchen as he starts to gather the things he needs to cook dinner. You hardly notice as he charms the cutting board to dice vegetables for him.

“It wouldn’t be a burden. Richie’s always telling me about the kinds of things that bother him at the office,” you say. Theseus’ jaw clenches. With his suit coat already having been slung across the couch in the living room, he’s quick to roll his button-down sleeves up to his elbows.

“Fucking Richard,” he mutters. It’s so quiet you almost miss it. Your brows raise. He runs a palm over his jaw, resisting the urge to bite down on one of his fingers.

“This is about him?”

“What?” he asks as he turns away from you to grab noodles from his pantry. The first time he’d asked about Richard had been harmless. A one-off question at the end of your evening when he’d been walking you back to your flat. A question you’d answered simply. He’s just your secretary. Then he’d asked again. A second and a third time.

“This. Your… mood. It’s about him, isn’t it?” you ask. You’re attempting to sound understanding, but you know there’s an edge to your tone. He doesn’t elicit an answer. “I thought I told you he wasn’t anything to worry about. He works for me.”

“I know,” he grumbles.

“Then what’s this about, hm?” you ask, standing from your chair and moving into his space.

“It’s just.” He’s cracking, slightly. He hates that he’s allowed himself to get affected by something so trivial. “He’s always there.”

“You’ve got yourself in a fit because my secretary comes into my office during work hours?”

“It’s the way he is around you, you know? He’s always around, always touching or trying to touch. You should see the way he looks at you,” he huffs. The box in his hand drops onto the counter suddenly, his hands following as he pushes his weight against them.

“Thes-” you start.

“You think I like being like this? You think it’s something I want? To be so angry and aggravated about something that I can’t control? That you can’t control?” he asks. “Everytime he touches you I want to rip his fucking hands off.”

You step behind him, winding your arms around his middle until he’s stood straight again. His hands find yours and interweave between your fingers.

“It’s not you,” he sighs. “Well, I mean, it is you. I don’t see how there isn’t a single man left in the world not wrapped tight around your finger.”

You press a kiss between his collarbones. He relaxes into your hold.

“I don’t want Richard,” you say.

“I know.”

“I want you.”

“I want you, too, darling.”

“But I also want you to talk to me,” you say as you urge him to turn to face you with a tap of your fingers against his torso. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t say I haven’t noticed him being a little closer to me than some of the other secretaries have been with their bosses, because I have. So, I’ll talk to him. But, I need you to talk to me, too.”

His forehead falls forward until it’s pressed against yours.

You continue, “I need you to tell me when stuff like this bothers you. You can’t just be all angry at the world and do nothing about it and expect it all to change. Okay?”

“I can do that,” he hums.

“Good,” you nod.

“Good.”

“You also need to remember that I’m a grown-up and I can handle myself, too, right? Just because another man may or may not have his eyes on me doesn’t mean I’m going to go running off into the sunset with him,” you say. A soft laugh rumbles in his chest, his eyes crinkling with a soft smile at the sides.

“Alright,” he says.

“Now,” you say. “What’s for dinner?”

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #callum turner #callum turner x reader #harry potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them

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ginkgo-phyta · 4 months

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Tantalizing / Spencer Reid

PART TWO: Link

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Words: ~8k

Tags/Warnings: SMUT!!! like pure smut, AFAB fem reader, no usage of "y/n", light footplay, light nipple play, humping, unprotected penetration, slight dom/sub themes (nothing intense, maybe more like switch?), secret relationship, extensive foreplay teehee ;]

Summary: You haven't had good, quality, playful time with Spencer in quite a while- the team's schedule having been jam packed with cases. Its been making you antsy, expounded by how good your boyfriend has been dressing lately. You decide late one night that enough is enough, and you had to dig your claws into him. Even if people end up finding out about you two.

Author's Note: inspired by spencer's s7 outfits...they're so good. they make me wanna bark. this is my very first time writing smut! ahhh!! also i didn't know wtf to title this.

“Hi Spencer…” Your alluring voice purred into Spencer’s ears as he held the hotel door open for you, the seductive timbre curling up the back of his neck, brushing against his warming cheeks and flicking the ends of the hair that tickled the shell of his ear.

“C-come in, quickly”. He ushered you in, closing the door swiftly behind you. The stammer caused you to grin mischievously and you watched Spencer pause in the middle of the room- just staring at you hesitantly, taking in your appearance as he played with the hem of his sweater vest. You donned a half-sleeved retro style black dress with a white collar and small buttons going down the front- his favorite on you. The belt hugged your waist beautifully and the skirt that shaped out your hips flared out a bit at the end, falling right at the knee. With it you wore an assortment of dainty jewelry, very sheer black tights and short forest green heels. He had seen you just a handful of times throughout the day, and each time he had to find some excuse to leave your vicinity in order to hold onto even a sliver of concentration on the case.

“I’ve missed you all day, baby.” you start to step closer to him, twirling the ends of your perfectly curled ponytailed hair between your fingers. The soft thuds of your kitten heels sent tingles down Spencer’s spine. “Did ya miss me?” you questioned him with a little pout. Now mere inches away from him you traced your manicured fingers down the lapels of his blazer. Reflexively, his hands shot up to rest ever-so-lightly on the curve of your hips.

He gulped, watching you playfully bat your mascaraed eyelashes up at him, “Of course, I did.” Spencer cleared his throat, trying to gain some sort of composure, “I wished you could have come out into the field with me, but you need to get better first.” His right hand shyly moved up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to fiddle with the small golden hoop on your lobe.

A dramatic sigh huffed out of your plump, glossy lips while fixing the knot of his tie, “I knoooow,” tone almost childish in reluctance, “I just love seeing you work.” You threw your arms over his shoulders, flashing him the beautiful smile he loved oh-so-much to see, “Which is why I’m here. Wanna see what you’re up to.” The bite of your lip, the glint in your eye, and the glimpse to his own lips made it clear to Spencer that you held a different motive. “Show me what you're working on?” you turn to make your way to the desk where dozens of papers and multiple files were scattered around. The purposefully enticing sway of your hips left Spencer captivated.

You had suffered a pretty bad concussion a couple weeks ago at the hands of an unsub weidling a copper pipe. The proceeding vertigo refused to relent its choking grip on your inner ear resulting in being “banned” from the field until a doctor’s clearance- or two, if Spencer could have his way. Usually this wouldn’t be all that big of a deal for you, but the case the BAU team was currently working on had Spencer away from you for most of the day, profiling the suspected murderer’s house in an attempt to find details that could lead to the missing victim. You were left twiddling your thumbs at the precinct. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like it at times.

“Ooo, the coded messages. Have my analyses helped you at all?” your voice pulled Spencer out of his debauched thoughts. His gaze landed on your face, all traces of seductive tactics were gone, replaced by eager and adorable curiosity. The unsub had several coded messages in journals scattered around his apartments that were proving to be incredibly difficult to crack. Spencer let out a breathy chuckle as he excitedly made his way over to sit at the desk.

“Yes, they actually did. I was able to-” and off he went down the rabbit hole of a tangent. Although normally you would have intently listened to what he had to say, this time watching him passionately ramble reignited the little flame in your bosom. You leaned against the desk, letting your eyes wander over Spencer’s expressive hands and fingers as he gestured to different pieces of paper. You interrupted his spiel by sliding into the space between his body and the desk, using the toe of your shoe on the seat to roll the creaky swivel chair back.

“The working day is over, Spencie, don’t you think it's time to focus on better things?” Spencer's head snapped down to where your foot rested on the cushion of the flimsy motel office chair, right between his legs and dangerously close to his clothed cock. He followed the line of your nylon clad leg, over the skirt of your work dress, across the prominence of your chest, up the slope of your neck, and finally to your twinkling eyes. “I don’t deserve any attention, baby?” you tilted your head ever so slightly, your hand coming up to delicately play with the single-pearl necklace resting in the Plender’s gap of your collar bones. A delicious, forlorn sigh passed your lips as your fingers glided over your shoulder, head moving with it to look down and pick at the papers laying under your tush, “You didn’t really miss me, did you? All you ever think about is the bad guys.” And there was that pout again. God, you really knew how to make Spencer a mess.

“That’s not true!” he exclaimed immediately, voice cracking slightly at the end. Your eyes snapped to his offended face. You giggled as his Adam’s apple bobbed- you loved teasing him, it boosted your confidence and only egged you further every time. His reactions would always be your drug of choice. “I’m-I’m sorry.” was all else he could spit out.

“What for, honey?” you leaned back on your hands, head tilting to the other side this time.

“For not giving you my attention. I didn’t mean to…neglect you. I really did miss you. I always do.” Spencer’s hands came up to lightly cup your calf, still very aware of its proximity to certain progressively-aching parts of his body.

“Good.” your voice was matter of fact as you straightened up a bit. Spencer watched you pull at your hair-tie and release your ponytail with a few firm shakes, his lips parted with a sharp draw of breath. The foot between his legs briefly moved as you kicked off your heels before it settled back into its original position, this time inching further under his crotch.

He let out a quiet surprised “Ah-” at the contact, his grip on your leg lowered as he squirmed in his seat.

“You like my outfit today? I picked it out specifically for you.” your words turned breathy as you leaned closer to the quiet genius, “You’ve been dressing sooo nice lately, honey, I wanted to look just as pretty as you.” You picked up one of his hands that had slid down to grasp your ankle, pushing his palm flat onto your led as you dragged it up the limb. Under your dress it went, enticing Spencer closer to you in response until his chest hit your shin. His fingers curled onto your thigh, analyzing the smoothness of your tights before you stopped. Instead, you took his fingers and pressed them into the lacey top of your sheer black thigh-high stockings. Another little move, press, and pause, allowing Spencer’s fingers to analyze. They were latched to a garter belt. The realization drew a soft groan from the back of his throat as his forehead dropped onto your knee. He loved when you would wear these. Spencer placed a few barely-there kisses where he could, using his hand to explore your thigh, taking in the difference between your warm skin and the cool nylon. You relished in the way he dug his fingernails into your supple flesh.

“So beautiful…” his whispers into your silked skin tugged a devilish grin up your cheeks. You felt his eyebrows furrow and you could tell his lips were pursed. You craved for his big hands and chapped yet moistened lips to press all over your body, but the teasing was just too fun to quit so soon. Instead, you wove your fingers through his hair, pushing back and coaxing him to look up at you. His cheeks were flushed clove-pink, eyelids drooping slightly as he gazed longingly at your mouth. Spencer’s body tried to jump closer to you, his hands respectively gripped your upper thigh and ankle in a failed attempt to hoist himself up to your hypnotizing smile. You swore you heard him let out a faint moan as his crotch grazed against your lower extremity. This sparked a match in your head.

Much to Spencer’s displeasure you moved away from him, leaning back on hands placed firmly on the desk. He tried to move forward to follow you, but your clothed foot left his crotch to land on his chest, effectively stopping his movements. Spencer let out a huff as it began dragging down his torso, pushing him back into his chair, before its path ended. Your foot hovered over the obvious bulge in his black trousers. “I love wearing these tights,” you started nonchalantly, “They make me feel so pretty and put-together; so hot,” you added a tantalizing emphasis, as if the word was naughty. Your lightly padded toes circled around where Spencer wanted them the most. Instead they avoided it a little longer, going to trace the design of his belt buckle. He screwed his eyes closed- whether to contain himself or simply feel your movements was uncertain. He let out an impatient whine. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” The sole of your foot finally flattened on Spencer’s covered cock.

“Yes, yes, yes” he earnestly groaned out, the hand on your ankle desperately pushing your foot further onto his bulge. That’s what you loved most about fooling around with your beloved- always so eager. You bit back the moan of your own that threatened to spill as Spencer threw his head back. You watched the pads of his fingers dig into your ankle, the other hand slid down the back of your calf to meet its twin as his hips lifted slightly off the chair to grind into your foot. His length hardening and extending could be felt against your sole, slightly ticklish. The scene before you was addictive, the sounds escaping his lips so dirty and provocative. He tugged your leg to press you harder to him, causing you to almost slip off the desk.

“Tuttutut,” you chided, “slow down, big boy. I never said you could do all that, did I?” As soon as your light scolding processed in his mind, all of his actions stopped. Spencer quickly shook his head while trying to catch his breath. “Answer me.” you tried again. His eyelids blinked open, gaze meek.

“No, no you didn’t.” He removed his hands from your leg, running them through his hair before plopping them onto the arms of the chair as he panted, “I’m sorry, baby, you just feel so good,” he paused to look at you, swallowing hard. “God, I’ve missed you.” His words were smile-inducing. You dragged your foot off of him, deliberately using extra pressure to earn a deep and husky groan. Spencer’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head before they closed again. You could see tiny glistening beads of sweat forming at the edges on his hairline. His eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple shifted a couple times, miniscule twitches plucked the corners of his mouth.

“What are you thinking about now?” you were clearly amused, feet slightly kicking out like a giddy schoolgirl. Spencer didn’t miss a beat in responding.

“You. I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about h-how good you make me feel and how much I want you to touch me more,” another gulp. “How much I want to touch you.” His hands gripped the plastic chair arms, causing them to squeak. You giggled at this. To Spencer, you sounded wicked.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you baby.” Your words immediately caused him to squirm, whines leaving his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes yet. It wasn’t a question, you knew for a fact that’s exactly what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it like that. Not yet, at least. The team had back-to-back cases for the last month and a half, and the two of you haven’t had a chance to actually have sex in the same length of time. You snuck cuddle sessions in each other’s hotel rooms a couple times, but kept them to a minimum as to not arouse suspicion from your teammates. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with how good he looked today- how good he has looked the last few weeks, really.

It wasn’t always that you showed your dominant side in bed, but it was all you could think about doing lately.

“Say it. Tell me you want to fuck me, Spencie.”

Another squirm. Eyes squeezed shut.

“Be a good boy, baby. Look at me.” your voice was sterner this time, though the playful edge hadn’t fully dissipated. It took a couple seconds but Spencer’s eyelashes finally fluttered open, “There we go,” you cooed. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, still worming a bit in his seat with arms glued to their spots. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.” you leaned your body forward, hoping to come off a bit more domineering.

Spencer took in a deep breath, eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. You didn’t want to ask again, residing to clearing your throat to get your message across. He understood what that meant- you were getting impatient and if you didn’t get what you wanted you would simply stop. He didn’t want that. It’s not like the statement was incorrect, it just wasn’t something that was ever in Dr. Spencer Reid’s ordinary vernacular and he wasn’t yet in the headspace for it to come out without a second thought. He didn’t want to sound stupid. But, oh, he wanted you. Thus, he swallowed his doubts and began,

“Yes,” he nodded his head vigorously, eyes closing just for a millisecond, “I…” His gaze finally locked with yours, “I want to fuck you.”

Damn, the words sounded so incredibly, completely filthy dripping from Spencer’s innocent lips and you wanted to lick up every drop. Your pussy reactively clenched around nothing, and you wanted to surge forwards and push your mouth onto his in a hot kiss- half what Spencer himself expected (and wanted) you to do- but you controlled yourself. Instead, you remained calm, sliding off your desk and toeing your kitten heels back on your feet all while maintaining eye-contact with Spencer. You prowled towards him. His saliva hitched in his throat, heart skipped a beat, breathing quickened. He remained still while you leaned down towards him. Your minty breath fanned over his face, and Spencer wished you would just kiss him already. Of course, you knew that was what he wanted and so you wouldn’t let him have it just now. He watched your face as you brought your hand to his jaw. Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip and down, moving to pull the tie out of his sweater vest. You used it to pull Spencer closer to you, his chin tilted up, reaching out to connect your lips. Just as they were about to touch…you stopped. “Come here,” was all you whispered. And in a flash, you were standing straight up, using the tie to move him up with you. Backwards you walked, returning to your original position on the small desk. As you scooted up a bit, disregarding the important papers you were most definitely damaging, you hiked up your dress to allow your legs to fall open. Spencer moved to stand in between them, but much to his dismay you were too far on the desk for him to be able to feel the warmth radiate from your core. Obviously, that was done on purpose.

Spencer knew he shouldn’t touch you yet, so he rested his hands on the desk close to your hips, only using the tips of his thumbs to brush back and forth between the lace of your stockings and the skin of your thighs. Good boy, you thought, but kept it to yourself. You slowly, yet deftly unbuttoned the cuffs and folded up the sleeves of his shirt, licking your lips at the sight of his hairy and veiny bare arms. You brought them each up to place a light kiss on the inside of his wrists, shifting up the watch on his left, before returning them to their original position. Spencer watched with bated breath and a parted mouth as you then began to seductively undo the top few buttons of your dress, pushing the fabric to the sides to allow Spencer to gaze down at the cleavage hardly contained by your lacy, deep green bra. (It didn’t escape him that they matched your heels). This enticed a moan from the disheveled man. He threw his head back, looking up at the bright ceiling lights in an attempt to grab his bearings, “You’re going to kill me.” he whispered.

You held his face in both your hands, pulling it down to look at you again, “Good.” you whispered back in delight. Fingers traveled to the back of his neck, playing with and tugging at the ends of his hair for a minute before moving to push the dark gray woolen blazer off his shoulders where they then replaced the material with massages. Spencer's eyes shut at the pressures of your ministrations, forehead dropping to rest against your own as a feeling of peace and warmth flooded his veins. He almost forgot how horny he was- almost. He whined at the lost palpations as your hands changed course to loosen his tie. You left it on, opting to unbutton the top of his button-up. Your fingernails scratched at the exposed skin at the base of his neck and top of his hair-sprinkled chest before they danced up to trace his Adam’s apple.

“I want you.” Spencer moaned.

“I know, baby.” you held his face between your hands again, firmly so he couldn’t move, “I want you, too,” Your face inched closer to his at a worm’s pace, and all Spencer could do was watch in impatient anticipation. “You’re just so fun to play with.” You nudged your nose against his, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips.

“More, please.” He groaned, head straining against your grasp, his eyelids falling shut.

You giggled sweetly, “Just a bit more, since you asked so nicely,” and you began to press more light kisses where you wanted to- on his top lip, the corners of his mouth, the little dip of his chin, his cupid’s bow, and finally the tip of his nose- your own lightly knocking against his with each proximal peck. Spencer sighed as you leaned away from him.

“Please,” he breathed out. Spencer leaned into your right palm, eyelids opening to reveal a contented, dazed look.

“You said you wanted me to touch you, didn’t you, baby?” your hands started to move, down the front of his chest to creep under the hem of his dark blue sweater vest.

“Mhm…” he nodded excitedly, a content sigh leaving his nose. You pulled the light-blue button-up out of his trouser, the feeling of your cool hands splaying against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen had Spencer reeling. You dug the tips of your fingers down a path along his hidden abs and happy trail before curling them around to his lower back where you scratched long horizontal lines. You loved touching him, just feeling his skin. But, Spencer wasn’t the only one losing a little bit of patience.

The sound of his belt buckle clinking undone caused his stomach to somersault. You roughly undid the button and zipper of his trousers before pushing them down just enough to grant you access to what you wanted. Spencer’s forehead thumped lightly against yours, finding its favorite spot again- well, second-favorite if we’re being honest. His breath quickened. You weren’t done teasing yet, though. Peering down, the outline of his hard cock straining against his boxer-briefs, a wet spot accumulating in the gray cotton, sent a jolt to your gut.

“Look at you,” your head tilted up, “so hard for me,” you whispered against his lips. Fingers snapped the waistband of his underwear against his stomach. “What a good boy.” Spencer’s brows furrowed against yours, prompting you to plant a kiss between them, leaving your lips there for a second while you dragged a single deep-brown-polished nail up the length of his covered hard-on.

He whined out your name, his voice hiccupping, “Please, please. Touch me.” The sound of paper crushing told you his hands still sitting by your sides were crumpling the files on the table. Spencer tried so hard not to move his hips, fearing you would stop everything. He resided to fist his hands and nudge his head against yours instead.

“Where?” Could you be any more cruel? Spencer groaned in frustration. Yes, you definitely could. He shouldn’t fight it.

“Please! My-my c-cock.” He swallowed hard to stop his stuttering. “Please touch my cock!” More sounds of paper rustling.

You giggled at his desperation, “Oh, honey, you’re so filthy.” Though, if you were being honest, you were just about getting there, too. Your swollen clit was pulsing in excitement, thin underwear increasingly dampening in your slick. If Spencer wasn’t standing between your legs, you’d be pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get yourself off. “If that’s what my baby wants...”

Finally, your right hand descended into his boxer-briefs, quickly using his ample precum to coat your palm before wrapping your fingers around his length. You gave him a good squeeze, prompted by the deep moan he let out, and started to jack him off.

“Oh, my god.” Spencer groaned, head dropping down to your shoulders. His hands flew up to tightly grip the fat of your hips. His hair tickled your ears, hot breath summoned goosebumps across your chest.

You hummed in response, hooking your heels around the back of his calves as you continued pumping. Your other hand moved to cup and press into his balls through his underwear.

“A-ah!” he tensed up a bit. Spencer’s balls were always a very sensitive spot, almost as if he was biologically wired to be afraid of any touch there. It was your favorite thing to do though- especially wrapping your lips around them.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whispered in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, “I’ve gotchu. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Your coos against his cheek immediately soothed the tension in his back and you could feel it radiate off of him in waves.

“Yesss,” He mumbled through a groan, pushing his face into the side of your neck and moving his grip up to your waist, “So good.” He let his hips move now, and so did you. He lightly thrusted up into your fist as much as he could with what little leverage his narrow stance afforded him.

You swiped a thumb over the head of his cock and lightly squeezed his engorged balls, causing him to gasp as his hips involuntarily bucked up. You felt his blazen, wet mouth drop open against your skin. Your hand turned and pushed, twisted and pulled, squeezed and tugged, Spencer’s moans growing louder and louder in your ear. Your eyes remained shut, relishing in the sounds he was making and the feeling of his burning skin against yours. Now, it was your turn to want more.

Suddenly, your hands left his dick. Before he could complain, you pushed his briefs down to fully expose him to the crisp air and pulled yourself closer to him in one motion, ignoring the crinkling of paper beneath you. He could feel the heat of your clothed core press up against his impossibly hard dick, causing the both of you to moan in unison. You rested your hands back on the desk and leaned away.

“Touch me, baby.” you breathed out.

Fuck, yes. Spencer thought as his hands surged forward, quickly undoing the last few buttons of your dress before roughly pushing the barrier open, fully exposing your cleavage. With a groan, his fingers pulled down the cups of your intricately designed bra to expose your perky nipples and his mouth immediately descended on them. Your head rolled back. The gasps and moans he was finally able to pluck from your throat were like music to Spencer’s ears. He sucked, nibbled, licked one areola while he pinched, twirled, and rubbed the other. His thumb rolled over the peak of your left nipple, pressing and dragging into the miniscule dip just how you liked it, causing the pit of your stomach to drop and your body to squirm. “Shit!” you hissed out, head snapping up to get a look at him. Spencer looked up at you in response, his eyes glinting with ferocity. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dug into your side, holding your body up to him. One of your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands to make him moan around your nipple, the other gripped at the knitted fabric on his back. He continued moving from breast to breast, catching his breath only for half-a-second while he pawed at them before latching onto the next. Your squirming movements increased, moans becoming more high-pitched as your hands pulled at his hair in an effort to get his head off of you. It signaled to Spencer: you were becoming overstimulated. His mouth pulled off of you with a pop! and you gasped in response.

He let you catch your breath for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of your tits while you watched his face through smiling eyes. The corners of his mouth were slightly wet, lips swollen from all the sucking, hair incredibly disheveled from your man-handling. You couldn't help but bite your lip and hum. So pretty. Just as you were about to speak, Spencer leaned down again and began kissing all over your chest and neck. His big, warm hands moved from your ribs to splay over your back, still holding you up to hover over the desk- one in the middle, the other between your scapulae. Your own moved to wrap around his shoulders. He pressed sloppy, damp kisses along the tops of your breast and over your collar bones before moving to the column of your throat. His lips dragged to each side, stopping to nip and suck here and there. Even in his fevered motions, he remained careful not to leave visible hickies, no matter how badly he wanted to fixate on a single place. Once he was thoroughly satisfied in covering your entire neck with kisses, he focused on the sweet spot on the right side, exactly where your pulsepoint was. “Oh Spencer,” the honeyed words caused him to groan, egging him on even more. Your fingers dug into the back of Spencer's own neck, legs wrapped around his ass, bringing him further into you. One particular suck and bite had you twitch your hips up, successfully rubbing your pussy against Spencer’s poor, neglected cock. This spurred him on. He was doing so well, using all his willpower to focus on pleasing you. To be a good boy for you and not rut his throbbing, leaking dick against your hot, wet cunt, but you finally did it yourself- you started it- which meant Spencer could now lose himself in his desires. The pressure had him nuzzling his face into your neck once again, lips open to breathe heavily against your warm skin.

One of his hands left the middle of your back to travel down your body, moving to grip your thigh and pull you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist while his legs spread further apart. The heightened angle and gained leverage allowed Spencer's cock to drag up and down the entirety of your cunt with greater pressure, drawing out even more noises from the both of you.

“Oh my fucking God, Spence. Feels so good..” your choked out words caused him to dig his nails into your skin. You’d definitely be greeted with little crescent shapes tomorrow morning. You leaned your head against his, hands flying to grab onto wherever you could- tangling in his hair, bunching up in the shirt of his broad shoulders, scratching against his neck.

The pleasure seeped into every crevice of Spencer’s brain, consuming any thoughts that didn’t revolve around you. He held onto you as if letting you go meant sending the world into ragnarok. “God, I..” he mumbled, shifting his grasp on your thigh to firmly cup your head in his palm. He couldn’t stop rutting into you, hunched over your body like a crazed animal, even though it was impeding his ability to speak. He licked his lips, readying to speak.

“I wanna fuck you so badly, baby.”

The intensity of his words, his piercing gaze, and the particularly long and deep drag of his bare cock against your dressed clit practically had you cumming. Your head rolled to hang back in the air, almost hitting the desk if it weren’t for Spencer's other hand on your neck holding it up, thumb draped lightly over your jugular. Your eyes tightly screwed, bottom lip pulled in by your teeth in a sorry attempt to heed the salacious noises leaving your mouth. The light feeling of your pussy fluttering almost had Spencer pulling your barely-there panties to the side and shoving his cock into you.

The man should be lauded and awarded for his self-control, but the need to please you triumphed over every biological impulse or desire Spencer would ever feel. He knew what you wanted. He knew your favorite part about teasing him- playing with him, stringing him up- was the burning, fervent, feral kiss it resulted in. Even though it used all his willpower he stopped his thrusting, pulling a drawn-out whine from the back of your throat. “Nooo,” you huffed and pouted.

With force, Spencer yanked your head up to bring your eyes back to his level. He stared into your wide, surprised eyes for a moment, breathing fast and hard before he pulled you forward. Your lips met in an impassioned embrace, hot and heavy. Greedy mouths wide as if to gorge on each other’s impurities. Both of Spencer’s hands grasped your head, fingers digging into the back of your scalp, almost pulling at strands of your hair. Yours rounded his torso, pulling him as close to you as possible. The feverish kiss was messy, loud, and erotic. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, noses collided. The taste of Spencer’s saliva was addictive, your mouth pushed into his to gain as much of it as it could. You swallowed his moans, he happily lapped up yours. The motions of your hips started up again, adding to the delectability.

Spencer tried to pull away from you, but you wouldn’t have any of it. You locked your ankles around his waist and bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep his swollen mouth of yours. He rested his forehead against yours again, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. The feeling of your panties rubbing against your clit was almost becoming too much.

“Please,” he breathed, “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.”

“We c-can’t,” it was your turn to stutter, too overcome with desire to be cocky anymore, “they’ll hear us, we’ll…we’ll get in trouble.” Moans cut into your words. What utter bullshit. The sounds of your debauchery filled every corner of Spencer’s modest hotel room and both of you knew in the back of your fucked-out brains that it was all already dancing down the hallway for everyone to hear. The continuous crumpling of papers; occasional thwap of files hitting the carpeted floor; the consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of the wooden desk beating against the wall; the sharp sound of your kitten heels wrestling with one another around Spencer’s waist; and, of course, the melodiously lewd octaves crawling up from each of your vocal chords.

He hated that answer. You swear you heard Spencer growl as he adjusted to roughly throw each of your legs over his shoulders, always keeping one hand behind your head, before bending over you once again. Your hands flew down to hopelessly grasp at the papers under you. He loved bringing out that surprised look on your face.

“A-ah, Spencer!” The new angle was intoxicating. Every single sensation was overwhelming your senses. The pinches of your dress still bunched up around your upper thighs and creasing in your elbows. The fabric of his vest was rubbing against your hardened and sensitive nipples. Spencer's right hand rested on the base of your throat while the other twisted in your hair. The back of your thighs and calves stretched at the unwarranted position. The smell of musk and sweat proliferated the air around you two. The friction of his stubbled balls chafed your reddening ass. Your bra cups and wire dug into your ribs, the thick belt of your dress pressing your stomach. And of course, the heavenly feeling of his burning, heavy cock rutting against your core. “I think I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your exclamation, voice cut off by a sharp gasp of pleasure. No, you weren’t, not yet. You wanted more, too.

Spencer was emboldened by the mixture of oxytocin and endorphins rushing through his veins and the entirety of you engulfing his senses. He gripped your hair tighter as his confidence grew and pushed his forehead harder against yours to look deep into your watering eyes, “I need to feel your tight pussy, baby.” His voice was quiet, yet stern and full- no hint of hesitation or embarrassment. No stuttering or stammering. Your head reeled.

“Fuck me, please!” was all you could say before reaching down and hurriedly grabbing your panties, clumsily pulling them to the side- no toying, no dirty talk, no teasing. Spencer took the cue, using the hand on your throat to instead guide his dick into your entrance.

Finally, he thought while he pushed into you as he straightened up a bit, letting out a guttural groan. The beautiful tone of your sigh tickled his ears. Your pussy was so wet, and in turn so was his cock. You sucked in the entirety of his length with little problem. The thick, pudgy walls of your cunt enveloped Spencer’s dick deliciously, warmth causing his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. He still held up your head, but his right hand moved down the outside of your thigh, fisting the lacy tops of your tights with a moan of your name

“Ah! You’re so big, honey.” You groaned in response, hands grabbing onto each of his wrists. It’s true, he was. Not the biggest cock in the world, but he stretched you out so incredibly every time. The perfect size.

You were so close to orgasming- you knew with just a few little movements you’d be pushed over the finish line. Nothing had to be said, though, Spencer was fully aware, but he wanted to savor this a bit more; give you a taste of your own medicine, if you will. He leaned in, pulling your head closer to his to envelope your lips with his again. Your legs sandwiched in between your torsos burned at the stretch, but you paid it no mind.

“Please,” you begged shamelessly against his bottom lip. Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, pushing your messed up hair out of your face. He pulled away from you to stand up straight, not without gaining a whine in response. You tried to keep your head up to watch him better, but you were losing your strength. With a light thud, you let your head fall against the wooden surface, the wall pressing against the top of your hair. He still wasn’t moving yet, and your orgasm ebbed slightly away. Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down the legs resting on his shoulders, massaging and kissing them wherever he felt like it. He took in the sight of you squirming and whining below him, fingers grasping at any of the random papers left on the desk they could reach, chest heaving. Your pearled nipples stood at attention, compelling him to ghost his fingers over them. He was barely touching you, but the moans and sighs would not stop leaving your throat. With a last kiss to your right calf, Spencer spread your legs open, toes of your kitten heels pointed out towards either side of the room. You watched him through hooded eyelids, hands going to support your legs for him. He tickled his nails deeply up the insides of your thighs, the light pain had you squirming and gasping even more which doubled as your movements had you shifting on Spencer’s cock. It felt so good, but the doctor held his own noises in, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You said,” you pouted breathlessly, “you wanted to fuck me. Hurry, hurry!” You need to cum so badly.

“Isn’t so fun on the other side, is it?” his mischievous smirk mocked you. It was a lie, it was most definitely fun on the receiving end, but it was even more so on this one. His right hand slid up to cup your chin, thumb pressing onto your lips mirroring your earlier actions, “So desperate,” he murmured, hands moving to grab onto your waist. You huffed and shut your eyes, head rolling to the side. You tried to just focus on Spencer’s touch and feel, but he stopped further motions.

You were so beautiful; in every moment of your lives, but especially like this. Spencer paused for a minute, eyes boring into every centimeter of your figure to burn the image of you into his brain. Your hair splayed over the desk, reminiscent of an angel’s halo; eyes screwed shut with smeared mascara at the corners; glossed lips parted in desire. Oh, how delicious they’d look wrapped around his dick. Your inviting, stocking-clad legs held open just for him, manicured fingers digging into the back of your knees. Spencer’s cock excitedly twitched inside of you once his gaze reached your glistening, swollen pussy, the puffy lips gripping the base of him. His hands wrapped around your own, gripping tight, using them and your legs for balance as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. He was mesmerized, it was a sight he’d seen many times before and was sure to see much more of in the future, but it hypnotized him anyway. He watched as your pussy clenched around him in a failed attempt to keep him in or pull him back, but Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen just yet. His tip pulled out just a bit further before pushing back in a centimeter, repeating the sequence a few more times, playing with your gaping slit. You tried to suck his cock back into you, but Spencer resisted. One more motion and the head of his dick popped out of your clutches with an audible squelch. He reached down this time, grabbing and rubbing his length against your cunt- side to side, up and down. Moans and expletives repeatedly left your mouth, but Spencer continued with a drunken smile on his lips. He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, causing you to twitch and yelp. He loved the reaction, prompting a couple more hits with the same response.

“Spencie…” you whined, ungraciously curling your hips up to gain more friction.

He was about to give in, but there was one other part of you he needed to see. With a single motion, he gripped the outside of your thighs and pulled your body further down the desk, dick sliding against your clit.

“Oh, shit!” you let out, your head craning to look up at him.

Spencer roughly pawed at your dress. He first pulled at the top, but it wouldn’t open up more to give him what he wanted, the belt positioned in the way. He moved on, pushing the skirt even high up, bunching it around your waist. He sighed in delight. The delicate filigree of your black garter belt laying right below your belly button stared up at him seductively, begging him to touch her. Spencer’s hands had a mind of their own as they palmed over the fabric, fingers moving over and under the top band to snap it against your skin- just like you did to him. The sound wasn’t as sharp, nevertheless it brought him pleasure. You mewed, lips curled up in a satisfied smile. Internally, you chuckled. You knew he loved the silly little piece of lingerie.

It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final key to the terminal level. Spencer grabbed two fistfuls of the garter belt and the bunched fabric of your neglected, cooling underwear and, without warning, swiftly pulled you completely onto his cock. You both yelled as he bottomed out, your eyes blowing wide open and jaw dropping slack open.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Spencer breathed out. The look on your face egged him on. He pulled his cock fully out of you before using your clothing to slam you down onto him again. He stilled for just a second, catching his breath and steadying himself. Before you could utter a single syllable, he began fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

The initial burn faded into sweet bliss. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around Spencer’s dick and he thrusted into you fast and deep. The bruising feeling of his tip pounding into your cervix gave way to a more intense sensation, your orgasm bubbling back up inside. His powerful motions caused your arms to fly up and Spencer deliriously watched your mouth-watering tits bounce up, down, up, down. Your hands pushed against the wall, trying to prevent your head from hitting it. Although at first you both tried to halter your noises, it proved fruitless. Inattentively, you let your moans and gasps and grunts stretch out to be as loud as they so pleased. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but the desire to watch Spencer fuck you was stronger. His hair flopped around at the sides, the strands at his hairline pasted to his forehead with sweat. He looked utterly pornographic, clothes still on but extremely tousled and uncentered. Sleeves pushed up, collar spread open, tie unevenly loose. His belt buckle clanged against itself, hanging from the trousers still draped around his mid-thighs. You removed one of your hands from the wall, pushing up the front of his body as much as you could, instead. You moved the bottom of his shirt and sweater vest to claw at his abdomen, focusing on the happy trail you loved to lick up.

Spencer felt the same way as you. He fought to keep his eyes open, gaze flitting all over your body and face instead. You were intoxicating. When your own wandering eyes met his as your hand came down to his lower stomach, he let out a particularly loud moan, pounding into your even harder. The intensity had you latching onto his wrist. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel better, Spencer moved his thumbs down to your cunt, pushing your swollen pussy lips together around his moving cock before shifting them to press against your clit.

“Holy fuck!” You let out, eyes screwing shut as your other hand left the wall to desperately match your existing hold on Spencer’s wrist. He rubbed in circles with one thumb as best he could, the other pressing into your fatty labia where he knew you had a sensitive spot. You began squirming, nails digging into Spencer’s skin, and you couldn’t even begin to care about your head lightly hitting the wall. “Spencer! I’m gonna come!”

Spencer rubbed just a bit harder into your clit, earning an enthusiastic, “Just like that!” as your eyes rolled back into your head. He groaned at this, feeling your walls close around his dick.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he huffed, maintaining his pace and pressure, “come for me, angel.”

Your core tightened up, and with just a few more thrusts your orgasm came crashing down on you. Waves of blinding white light washed over your body as you gushed around Spencer’s cock with a call of his name. The gripping and flitting of your pussy had Spencer groaning and he quickly shifted his arms, letting go of his hold on your garter belt and underwear to hold on to your waist, your limping legs hooking over his elbows. He didn’t let up his thrusts, chasing the orgasm of his own he was so close to reaching. He pushed the impending feeling down, not wanting to give up the sanctity of your hot cunt just yet, but he couldn’t stop his hips.

As your orgasm began to subside and overstimulation prickled along your nerves, you tried to clench your legs closed, but Spencer wasn’t having any of it. He bent over you to push your legs open and press his forehead back onto yours. “Spencer!” you gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed and frantic. Your hands gripped his flexing forearms, “It’s too much!”

“You’re gonna take it,” he grunted out, fingers digging into the fat of your sides. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard for a second, his thrusts beginning to show signs of faltering. You felt so fucking good he almost wished he didn’t ever have to come, that he could fuck you through orgasm after orgasm without stopping. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, babbling incoherently in agreement through frenzied moans.

“So you’re gonna take it just like this,” he gulped, pushing down a groan at your clenching pussy, “and I’m gonna fucking come inside of you.” His last words came out in a growl, drawing out longer moans from you as his thrusts started to include sloppier grinds.

Spencer's pelvis grounded into your clit, his balls continued to slap against your ass, his erotic words mushed your brain, and soon the overstimulation pulling tears from your eyes turned into ecstasy and you neared a second orgasm. A strewn out, deep “Fuckk,” crawled from Spencer’s throat as your cunt squeezed him in quick succession, followed by your name being whispered and moaned repeatedly like a mantra.

You wanted to come again at the same time as him, and you were right at the edge, just as you knew he was, so you pushed him further to the precipice, “Spencer,” you pleaded breathlessly, “come on, baby.” You rested your hand on his cheek, urging him to open his eyes and look at you. “Fill me up.”

He groaned in response, head dropping down to press against the top of your breasts. A couple more sloppy, hard thrusts and he started “I’m gonna-”

But just before he could finish, you were jolted into stillness by a deafened boom, boom, boom. What the hell?

Someone was at the door.

You let out a yelp, Spencer’s hand immediately flew up to slap against your mouth.

“Reid? What’s going on in there?” You heard from the other side of the door. It was fucking Rossi.

Author's Note: muahaha >:D idk why but this is just how i imagined this piece ending. hope you guys liked ittttt, if you're reading this thanks for sticking to it. should i write a pt.2? i def already know how i'd continue (tho not smutty). did not think smut would be the first spencer fanfic i'd post. thinking of writing a follow up where spencer finally gets his release teehee. i'd love feedback and comments, pls! ty lovelies <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #can you tell i loovvee foreplay ehehe #this took me over a week to write lmao #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid

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fuumiku · 25 days

Text

Selkie AU

Ok so on discord we went off. A lot of this is just paraphrasing or copy pasted from buddies hii guys. It��s honestly a fun concept to play with no matter how you turn it around~ I’ll start off with the version I drew these doodles for but it’s all under the cut because it got so long... There’s also always place for different flavors like if they realize the other’s a selkie immediately or over time, etc etc so this is all just food for thought. Marcille is always the instigator though lol, obsessed with him no matter the universe. As a selkie wants to learn more about this human and as a researcher is chasing after this secretive mysterious sea-guy while he very much tries to escape everyone’s attention.

Fisherman Chil & selkie Marcille

Old sad fisherman Chilchuck… He drinks out at sea even. Divorcee dad who’s got nothing waiting for him on land anymore. He’s on the sea every day to get fish to sell at the wet market or to the butcher, the sky and sea’s grey and everything’s dull and tedious. Seals are nothing special either. The only stuff he knows about selkies really could have some selkie storybooks he reads to his daughters. Meanwhile selkie Marcille… You could go a lot of different routes I feel. You know I feel like being a selkie fits with Marcille and her mom, with that interaction of "you’ll have to let others go and deal with that", like in this AU she’ll always be different and will have to leave people behind for the sea eventually here and there and whatnot…

Chilchuck and worksongs... Fisherman Chilchuck singing sea shanties while selkie Marcille sings her songs of the sea and then she hears him and gets curious and follows him back on land or something…… Tries to blend in with humans just so she’s like. What’s his deal. But them only meeting out at sea is very cute as well. Eventually she gets on his boat and they hang out. Melancholic psychological horror sea tragedy-romance would be fun idk. Maybe he starts hearing a woman sing out at sea randomly and thinks it’s the alcohol. But he’d be a goner already lmao. Like don’t get me wrong it’d take a while of actual interactions for him to actually fall in love, but also ~~he’s lonely~~ pretty blonde woman waaaa. Siren imagery hehe. "Hmmm I didn't know selkies had hypnotic voices as well" (they don't. he's down outrageous and he knows it.) Mr "in denial so bad maybe magic is the answer yep for sure". I want her to hear him singing something he used to for his daughters/wife etc and shes like 👁️👁️ who hurt this man........... (Could also work for selkie Chil) What’s his tragic backstory…..

I think marcille also deserves to go silly and catch a carp between her teeth, giving it to chilchuck batting her eyelashes like teehee... I'm such a good assistant right... He needs them undamaged if he wants to sell them but he still makes use of her gift anyway... Puts it in a stew and shares it with her... Something we made together..… Marcille being able to taste human food with actual spices and actual heat and actual cooked meat... His home is the warmest place on the surface. His hugs are more comforting than even the water’s. AGH and how long hasn’t he eaten a real homecooked meal you’d bet 😭 Marcille notices he’s underweight and is like "he’s always fishing though??? Does he just need like, a lot??" and takes it upon herself to bring him more fish to feed him. "He NEEDS to blubber up. I know it." Do you think when his wife was still there he'd come home to the smell of cooking.... but now there's nothing......... He’s on his own, he sleeps in the boat… It just smell like fish all day. The stench gets to him and even the burn of alcohol in his nostrils is a kinder hell. NOW he comes back to the stench of roting flesh and he's like :))) ahh.... my gi rl firned 💖 /j

Selkie Marcille getting onto his boat out of nowhere and slapping the beer bottle out of his hand. It’d go hard if he’s so drunk once that he’s leaning over the railing with his bottle hanging down from his grip and the beer goes into the sea and she tastes it and is like. Now what the fuck is this. Ew. He doesn’t look so good maybe I should splash him with water. She could save him from drowning... Girl who puts him on a rock somewhere until he wakes up and hides in the water as soon as he comes to… Peekinh at him from the surface of the water because, oh dear we're shy now because it's face to face… Drawing parallels between swaying (drunk) and swaying (motion of boat on the sea). She sways his world…… Makes him feel dizzy in a nice, light airy way…… He crashes into his bed in his home and still feels the rocking of the waves under him, and he falls asleep thinking of her…

Go out to the sea in a storm because you can’t stand feeling useless. The sea is your livelihood, it's where you're good and useful. On land you never know what to do with your hands. Maybe he should just let the sea pull him under. let it sweep him away. Marcille does exactly that, but it's not something that erases him. It's not something that swallows him whole. It's something that shows him a whole other world- The coral reefs, the schools of fish that exist below, the lush seaweed forests that Marcille treasures so much. It's all been there for him to see, theres so much beneath his feet. And all he had to do was let her take his hand. This world full of fish and creatures he's caught and gutted... that he gets to see in a different light…… The idea of him trusting her enough to let her lead him underwater... I think the time that Marcille leads him into the water should be on one beautiful evening, with the water shimmering, and the sun casting rays onto the waters surface- enough that it's still scary at first, enough that Chilchuck still struggles against the salty grasp of the waves, but when marcille takes him under he can see just how the light of the sun casts its spotlight on the seafloor- and how even in the shallows therein lies a thousand wonders, ones he's stepped right over before. I'm just obsessed with chilchuck experiencing a whole nother world in there. Give me childlike wonder. Give me a Marcille who wants to show her grump fucking fisherman boyfriend the cute fishies and the minnows, the pretty hermit crabs. Something about the sea looking different from beneath the waves... The parallels of him on the beach stepping over shells and urchins in the shallows with his boots and just crush them right over, not even noticing he did from force of habit and routine having dulled everything… Him working on the sea all the time but never really seeing it because he’s so absorbed in his own shit and he always just uses the harbor so there’s never real contact with it anyways. When the sea water laps at his forearms when he reels the net in but they feel like lashes of frost against his skin. She'd look really pretty with her hair flowy in the waves............ Marcille’s hair should get used for creepy compositions more… In the water she takes him under and her hair tangles and latch onto him against his skin. Her hair is long, underwater it could engulf him probably, he likes blonde hair he'd be happy with that… Not the lowkey suicidal ideation of letting the sea take him and how he’d be happy suffocating in her hair when doing a dive wow ok

I keep thinking about the Dredge AU… The video game yes yes. It’d be a mess but ohhh ohh the sea and its wonderful world but also its dark secrets, Marcille researching the depths and finding dark powers and idk the tragedy of a man at sea who can’t forget what he’s lost and the mythical gf he made that was never meant to be and it’ll destroy them both idk idk. Bc of Marcille helping him fish from below as a selkie, Senshi like YOU ARE OVERFISHING YOU ARE DESTROYING THE ECOSYSTEMMM @ them lmao You are feeding the whole town and making big bucks but you’re fishing so much that some fish are starting to get stale without being bought, the sea is bleeding and the leviathan is hungry

Maybe one time, one of them gets upset at the other and holds the seal fur hostage, its sooo mean but it also feels very them. When I think selkie I think of the movie Song of the Sea and in that movie the father of the protags loved a selkie, the mother, but she had to leave at one point for the sea because that’s her nature etc etc, but he didn’t want her to leave so he hid her skin which like. Ruined everything and hurt her. And ohhh the parallels… Leaving him… Just food for thought.

Selkie Chil & marine researcher Marcille

The reverse of that where Chil’s the selkie, Marcille’s fascination for him has the reverse angle, almost like admiration too. Crying she’d be like "who’s this mysterious guy, why’s he look kinda ethereal(selkie fairy blablabla)?" and investigates meanwhile he doesn’t want anyone to see him transforming and such so he’s like "leave me aloneeeeeee!!" Selkie chil? secretive man who just wants to chill gets grabbed by the most enthusiastic fairytale-obsessed girl out there. She WILL almost drown trying to say hi. C’mon mister mythical let’s have a storybook romance <3 Jumping in da water and he has to rescue her and immediately gains 100 grey hairs. She gets her storybook ‘saved by the merman’ moment but at what cost. "WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGG" screaming, she gets scolded very much but it all goes in one ear out the other tbh. Selkie Chilchuck is even better with his secretiveness... How do you get around the fact you’re a seal? Iunno I’ve never been a seal Obsessed with the implications of his family in this. Except if his wife and daughters were humans and so his work travels are instead selkie shenanigans going out at sea for months on ends, I imagine they’d be selkies too… Did they get separated? Die? Is Chilchuck’s cowl in this one Flertom’s fur? :( Once more mentioning sea shanties Chilchuck btw, Roll the Old Chariot comes to mind… Ooough Song of the Sea from the movie that he sung to his daughters <33 I’m fine

With the researcher angle actually being pushed there are interesting plots and scenes you could think of obvi, but uh we kind of went off on the fisherman Chil Marcille selkie AU instead haha. It’d be cute if she ends up teaching him how to live on land in the end. Dresses him up like a funky lil guy. I went with tallman Chil when drawing it and selkie Marcille’s more elf-like, and for selkie Chil I’d imagine it’s the reverse where she’s tallman-like and he still looks like a halfling… Sea-related AUs are my weak spot <33

No matter how you turn it, Marcille is the instigator lol. Selkie Marcille: this little man… I want to know more about this human! Selkie Chilchuck = tries to avoid everything but this Marcille keeps chasing him! It’s her job to, Chilchuck minds his business!! He sees a sliver of something weird out at night? Not his job nope keep your nose out of that it’ll only bring you trouble. It’d have to really itch him at him for him to crack I think… Honestly he’d make a great lovecraftian horror protagonist lol. We love a girl with no chill and her nose in everyone’s business

Shout to to @dayundying, @cabinette, @soappox and @lucky-fydraws!! These people were there for the brainstorming and the writing of the scripture…

#Dunmeshi au #marchil #chilchuck tims #marcille donato #dredge au #Irish chilchuck ftw #also let’s be real chil would see a naked woman monster and be like oh… i am listening #Mean old fisherman ily. He wonders how seal jerky would taste. Surprisingly kind tho. Would pet the seal #If ppl want more specific credit or parts edited out just lmk #Tallman chilchuck

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