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#if someone was looking to get a good understanding on their character dynamic this would be one of my immediate recommendations
regheart · 2 days
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deep down i'll never stop being an astrology girly so here i am reading about the compatibility between marauders era characters and i might be projecting but i think they're pretty close to how i picture the dynamics
lily & severus
Capricorn and Aquarius friendship compatibility is pretty high. Both of them are the kind of people that go picky when selecting their BFFs and believe in investing in them thoroughly. If they closely get along with each other, they will share a shrewd bonding that would be liked by all around. With fun and excitement in their friendship, Capricorn and Aquarius friends share a lot in common. Both love to search for timeless things and believe in scorning fads. Where Aquarius shows its creativity, their Capricorn buddy just perceives it all right and calculatedly and right with them. Therefore, as pals, they could effortlessly get along, but only if none of them becomes critical or demotivating.
james & sirius
Both Scorpio and Aries are ruled by the planet Mars in astrology. The energies of two Mars natives could lead them to either become allies or ruthless enemies. Arguments in friendship are inevitable but the differences won't exist for long. Aries, as they like to be the starters of things, claims the spotlight in the Aries and Scorpio relationship, meanwhile, the Scorpio stays behind the scenes to support the Aries intellectually and emotionally. Aries and Scorpio could have a wonderful friendship and achieve great success while having their share of fun.
sirius & remus
These two Water Signs are terrific friends. Protective Scorpio loves caring for vulnerable Pisces. The whimsical Fish enjoys lifting Scorpio's spirits. They're highly creative people who love collaborating on writing, music, and design projects. When they're not working, they have fun trading books, watching movies and going to concerts together. These two Scorpio Pisces friends are intense souls who often form friendships within a fringe group – think Skater-punks and Metalheads. Scorpio, in particular, likes to look down on mere mortals and frightens people off with their menacing demeanour and sometimes, eyeliner and multiple piercings. Pisces is fashionably depressive enough for fringe dwelling but recognizes much of Scorpio’s schtick is self-preservation – they soothe the scorpion beast with creativity and off-beat spirituality. Scorpio understands Pisces chaotic mind and teaches them how to focus on one idea before moving onto the next.
james & remus
The Aries sign in astrology is ruled by the planet Mars while, on the other hand, Pisces is ruled by the planet Jupiter. The influence of Mars keeps the Aries strong and active. Jupiter’s influence adds intensity to their friendship. Aries could help Pisces realise their dreams, and on the other hand, Pisces could provide a recess where Aries could display the softer side of their character. In a nutshell, both the signs complement each other well in a relationship. And as they do so, the chances of their friendship turning into something special are always high.
lily & james
(romantic compatibility) Here comes your knight in shining armour Aries. Apart from the initial A, there are literally thousands of other things that take the Aries and Aquarius compatibility beyond imagination. The Aries are usually attracted to the Aquarius owing to the latter’s charming personality. The Aries and Aquarius are very idealistic individuals and extremely good at communicating their thoughts and feelings with each other. In love, the Aquarius are a bit reserved but open and excited about learning the hows and wows of the relationship. These two signs usually go well together in general and they support each other through thick and thin.
(communication) The Aries and Aquarius conversations are so fulfilling that many people would literally pay to listen them talk. It doesn't happen often for the Aries to find an idol in someone, but an Aquarius does inspire them. An Aries would listen to the Aquarius with sheer curiosity, all excited about what they might discover. Meanwhile, Aquarius also enjoys their role as a sharer for they have so much to say. However, Aquarius is not up for ridiculous conflicts and usually cuts the other person from their life to safeguard themselves from the same. Thus, it is recommended that the Aries rein their impulsive nature and urge to counter when they converse with Aquarius.
am i crazy or does it actually make sense???? i also wish we knew what is peter's solar sign. i feel inclined towards gemini or cancer, but i'd love to hear if anyone has any thoughts on this
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ducktracy · 4 months
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proper reupload in the high quality this fantastic segment so deserves; eagle pig and duck bias notwithstanding, this will forever be my favorite variant of the fabled switcheroo (and a reminder that Daffy was first at his own game!) the committal on behalf of both characters--especially the sincerity of Daffy's feigned sincerity--really sets it apart
#that delivery of “don't you believe i'm a fish?” sounds so hurt and it's perfect#likewise i think there are few one-liners/toppers that make me laugh as much as 'i told ya i was a pig'#and that all knowing glance at the audience from Daffy doesn't feel obnoxiously smarmy or self aware#there's a friendly nonchalance to it. a very clear amusement and not in a way that undermines anything this segment is setting out to achie#again. my favorite buzzword: that sincerity! a sincere investment and amusement in watching Porky obliviously and endearingly make an ass#out of himself#and of course the cross dissolve and setup of the composition implying a story/sequence of events taking place within that time...#this short isn't my favorite P+D short--i still LOVE IT A TON but there are so many i revere--but i think it's one of the most definitive#if someone was looking to get a good understanding on their character dynamic this would be one of my immediate recommendations#i haven't had the bandwidth to spread my pig and duck gospel but please#watch Porky and Daffy cartoons#tangential but i've always loved the sound effect Treg Brown uses for Porky dropping the gun#good exaggeration/whimsy while also connoting Porky's stubbornness and that this stupid petty argument is enough for him to lose sight of#his motives and discard his murder weapon. all because of this joyously stupid argument. so i like the self awareness there with how obtuse#the sound effects are#because anyone who is not Porky Pig would have just shot him point blank#and that is everything i love about their dynamic and how Daffy's intoxicating charisma and ability to get people invested even affects the#very characters on screen#gee d'you think i ought to have said more about this scene#lt#duck soup to nuts#freleng#vid
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third times the charm re: distilling a [winston billions autistic character] jumping off point re: like, applications of individual responsibility Bootstraps Narrative attitude just in general when it comes to some people being Made more vulnerable than others, and the way that these differences are Deserved, the solution to someone suffering for it is for them to personally choose to better themself to thusly earn more, and for, conveniently, Punishment to be a neutral conduit of moral improvement, should you be so deserving as to accept it
if someone interprets an autistic person as offputting & reacts to this with disdain b/c of an imagined correlating Undeserving Interiority within that person, that’s objective & correct, & however they punish that person is as well. autistic people should have to Do The Work of making up for their previous failure to simply Learn how to act correctly, since allistic people definitely underwent ABA & now think of themselves as choosing to act that way rather than just Naturally Being Normal (wherein also any conscious effort is just ascribed to further personal positive qualities of theirs, the Kindness / Generosity / Thoughtfulness etc etc in striking up small talk or whatever, while ascribing thoughtlessness / disrespect to nd behavior), and in the meantime a) the best an autistic person can hope for, if, like a properly humble poor person, they deserve the pity, is that equivalent of a windfall of the charity some better off individual can Choose to afford them, e.g. like if an autistic employee happens to have some manager or someone who can & does look out for them / tries to insulate them from nonsense....and at the heart of the matter, the double empathy problem Is deserved, the solution to an autistic person being disliked is either that they shouldn’t be here at all, or that if they can endure existing somewhere that’s actually beyond what they can manage to Earn, they deserve the punishment of being nobly treated “the same,” i.e., oh if Anyone was acting like this i’d be an asshole to them, which is why people don’t even need to Know someone’s autistic to react to the reality of their being autistic, the person in question doesn’t even need to know it about themself....and ultimately it’s worse to Not try to yourself punish, or allow the punishment of, this weirdo grating cringe loser, b/c only the cleansing nature of that punishment will let them personally improve & start acting better & Deserving better, otherwise you’re just enabling them to keep being annoying at other people & those other ppl’s annoyance is Also blood on your hands (then it’s time to turn around & let people even Higher Up on the social hierarchy do whatever they want / bend over backwards to interpret & explain & justify everything they do in the most positive lights & blame other people for being hurt by them) 
and like, the handy flexibility re: what’s Deserved when, say, how other characters look at a character like ben kim. he’s Too Nice, and that can mean that he deserves better, or it can mean that that’s a bleeding heart doormat loser trait that deserves the disdainful punishment it might get. and even if you Do think he deserves better? the reason he isn’t Already getting that better treatment must be due to personal failure anyways: he Is being too much of a loser &/or how he’ll only get better if he Steps Up & Acts more like a winner, for god’s sake, do the elevator dance stuff, that’s not only reasonable but obvious, cmon. tuk’s weird Confidence Training masterclass where it’s like, softhearted ben will be like “sorry :/ nothing anyone can do though” but tuk can’t go “hey, can you not be an asshole to me” and expect to get anywhere if he’s still being his too uncertain self, it’s on Him to start acting out the extrinsic behaviors of a winner and Then other people will totally start respecting him, is how this works lol....that it’s cringe for winston to Say he’s good at what he does & is valuable, b/c umm if you were Really valuable then the Natural recognition of that & corresponding positive treatment would Of Course have already manifested, and since it hasn’t, he isn’t Really deserving, and since he’s claiming to be deserving, that’s also proof he’s out of line being aggressive & arrogant like that. that it’s Also like, cringe & even crass of him to mention like, yeah i’m hoping to get paid here lol, again you’ll Of Course be paid as much as you want if you Deserve it, but if you deserve it you’ll actually mostly talk about being here and wanting to Win at it for cooler reasons, b/c ppl who are winning / more powerful than you in Whatever realm have those benefits that have just spontaneously & naturally been afforded to them b/c they deserve them more On Merit, and meritous people Are better than those beneath them and thus Will seem epic. and in the same way that ben kim seeming Too Nice can be handily interpreted as a “positive” (without truly challenging any negative assessment) or a negative, it’s like, oh winston’s Also undeserving b/c of the fact his outfit was uniquely significantly cheaper on the burn rate rundown, it’s actually Cooler to have your undershirt cost a thousand bucks, it’s costlier b/c it’s better, you buy the better clothes b/c you Deservingly have the money and thus also have the Deserving tastes to want the pricier shit. yet it’s like, cue a post of yore mentioning like analysis of agatha christie’s writing where like, oh the nouveau riche’s personal fashion & decor choices are always a bit too indulgent & overdone, vs. the refined elegant restraint of those with True Class(tm), when really any trend where Not going as ham with adornment/decoration was “better” / a signifier of properly noble Old Money was a reaction to flashier stylings Becoming more common / attainable for the less established rich / Less rich, period....the way that an identity that is defined by / requires Othering people will always have to react Against what everyone else is doing so long as that association is relevant in the cultural consciousness. ugh women do that, so it’d be too Effeminate of men, so men shouldn’t Want to do it anyways b/c they’re too inherently epic in the ways that make them better than women already, & if they Do, it’s some artificial corruption....anyways, it’s that if someone Undeserving were to indulge in pricey shit, that’d be a veneer to compensate for the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit (which wouldn’t look like deliberate flashiness anyways, of course. simply The Taste) but if they were to rather be sticking to too pedestrian / inexpensive shit, that’s Also about the insecurity of how they don’t Truly Deserve fancy shit / indication that they lack the Taste to even Know how to want better, and the best they could do is an identifiably lesser mere Imitation of what better ppl choose for themselves
meanwhile shoutout to how, of course, if winston is being treated badly on an individual interpersonal basis, that’s exactly in line with All Of This lol. he deserves it, if he deserves better He has to make the change, and in the meantime since that Bootstraps Narrative is justification for things being the way they already are, conveniently anyone else can keep getting whatever they get out of another person being so diminished as to not Deserve to be regarded as & treated as a person in the way that they do....autistic employees “making up for” their being autistic by working harder, Anyone working harder (ben kim) b/c surely that’s the only way to get a raise or promoted or not fired & if you don’t jump into the ring of like compensation negotiation & win (ben kim) then you don’t deserve the raise, conveniently....you Do have to walk away & Prove that you can do better, taylor Should Have Had To Do All This actually, even though probably mafee wouldn’t Really argue that directly, wild how whatever you say that’s a Negative about winston / sabotages any effort of his must, flexibly, be true & fine....if we thought Some People didn’t inherently deserve the increased vulnerability to harm in various manifestations, then that’d have enough reverberations that wouldn’t be contained to “maybe stop being like this to your coworker,” and in the meantime we can all just Tell that winston sucks & thus he brings it upon himself & the Rewards that people get for what they’re actually bringing upon him >>>> winston having a more tolerable time, not to mention that actually it’ll Help him in the end if, to make the punishment stop, he finally decides to deserve Better by improving himself, bootstraps time, [become nondisabled] style
oh and addendum too about like [any begrudging acknowledgment that winston perhaps Does have value tied to an especial individual talent] wherein it can be like ugh This asshole got in on a Technicality, he can crank out this coding or whatever but that’s Mechanical rather than something any of us need to attribute to an Inherently Deserving Human Interiority and like be impressed with or admire or respect or some shit like that, he’s basically cheated to get be here & so long as he isn’t forced out we can at least Use him. feel free though to be a complete asshole to him for real
#another blogger moment of just saying some shit. probably other specific examples i meant to bring up but didn't#i mean it's the Entire intrinsic / extrinsic thing lmao. operating under a premise that there Is an objective hierarchy of Intrinsic Worth#(or characters are; mostly; but if it wasn't a common irl assumption / ideology too then idk uh [encompassing gesture])#and wherein it's like. questions of ''do you actually think Anyone would deserve [xyz] treatment even if they supposedly were thee worst''#and ''do you think [xyz] should be done to people b/c the Suffering therein is supposedly good for them actually''#like regardless of anything winston does (which like...is mostly withering & coding in the corner...what) it's like#if it's so intolerable then fire him? is it actually chill for rian's dynamic w/him to be somewhere around [his bully] or [abusive friend]#like At All much less even if she's the most awesome winning sympathetic person in the world & he's some asshole who sucks at everything#and even perhaps if she's getting anything out of it. even perhaps if you also dislike winston / think he Could & Should be different....#imagine wendy brings the attempts at systematic aba for real l o l (wretched) (she also brings it organically anyways)#winston billions#and whatever all's going on here....who knows. a blogger saying some things. your guess is as good as mine#tfw ppl think ppl are just desperate to Read Into the least shit abt themselves & Self Dx As Autistic For Clout / how ohhh disabled ppl need#Special Treatment out of Sympathy/Pity / ohhh disabled ppl are actually all asking too much of us all & using Excuses....#certainly easier to Not actually fundamentally question &/or alter your understanding of the concept of disability#like no i will Not conceive of the fact that making eye contact during a convo is not a universal human behavior hinging on basic respect#to look away isn't neutral or to help someone actually listen to you better. e.g. being autistic Has to be An Excuse(tm)#adhd would be Solved by me if only they all cared as much as i do where Choosing To Remember = Remembering. excuses excuses#winston as a Totally Objectively offputting asshole doesn't deserve basic respect as a person; nor as a colleague / coworker / employee...#he definitely deserves the punishment to Specifically Not have casual acquaintanceships; friends; lovers; partners; family is saddled w/him
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synthetic-sonata · 2 years
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also i almost never block specific ships bc i dont give a fuck if it isnt explicitly weird but ones been getting on my nerves lately for almost no reason
#aria talkz#its d/rkj/hn.#idk why. it just. so. aueuhtgruhguhuhgu i dont like it at aaaaalll.#edit: it feels like literally every blog im looking at draws ONE thing at least abt it. this is gods punishment. amen.#( literally what am i not getting it is just the worse version of two different ships for people who dont like those two for some reason )#it feels like shittier dirkjake. I think jake would send death threats to dirk if he knew he was dating his ectodaughter#and i feel like ppl who like it just really hate jake or dont understand him and ship that bc its better to them in quotes#and i will give you a tip in the hs fandom in quotations bc i hate that term. if someone hates jake. Run. Run very far away#same w tavros in most cases. and dirk too. media literacy. please#also bc those ppl r usually weird abt june being a thing which is usually some kinda flag. bc its gotta be j/hn to be not gay erasure#unless your interp of june is like nonbinary which yea fair#also bc iirc its mainly a remnant of bro x j/hn in the early fandom .. which is.. Yea. obv dirkj/hn is better but that aint a good look.#also also THEY WOULD NOT GET ALONG ROMANTICALLY june would bully him so much. So much#its so funny but not romantically and not in an mlm ship way. good night.#i dont think i'll block the tag i'll just go 'you almost definitely misunderstand these characters dynamics or personalitys'#when i see it#it just interferes with so much of my personal perception of these characters that it feels like ppl read a different comic than me#mainly j/hn. i dont perceive j/hn. im not hard into the headcanon or whatever i just think june enhances the character in all ways#god i havent gone into dumb fandom bullshit like this in a long time. bc i visciously hate fandom. anyways.#LIKE OK THE MAIN THING IS I WOULDNT CARE IT JUST APPEARS WAY TOO MUCH ON THE DIRK TAG AND THAT INHERENTLY ANGERS ME FOR SOME REASON.#OTHERWISE ITS FINE I DO NOT GIVE A SINGLE FUCK.#not tagging this as hs mostly bc i dont want ppl i dont know to find it lmao this is a ramble tag#it is a self contained ramble. do not interact with me specifically this one time i do not exist for all intensive purposes#read: i dont care abt your take i am just one person venting on tumblr at 2 am abt shit i dont like#I FUCKING HATE THE TAGGING SYSTEM STOP SORTING THE TAGS WRONG#ik its bc i keep using parenthesis and i forget that tumblr haates when u do that.#oh also its just worse junedave as well i think. worse version of two ships in my head. got damn new record.#junedave and dirkjake is the solution to the problem that is this one mostly harmless ship that i do not enjoy. invest into those.#this is why i hate talking abt fandom or shipping or whatever i just go on long winded rants about what is really nothing.#also bc fandom and the culture = inherently bad to me bc of how much bad there is in it so i just do not like to touch on it whatsoever.
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anarkhebringer · 2 months
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I'll admit. I'm still sitting here thinking about that video because of the look on Gale's face. That's my favorite part of that whole thing.
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travalerray · 3 months
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it's the WORST when you can't interact with a particular fandom at ALL because they are simply incapable of talking about the plot but WILL talk about your NOTP for hours on end so you just mope about it in silence
#griping and grumbling about fandom as usual#I understand that shipping is like. A huge part of fandom culture#but it's getting on my nerves lmao#and I am going to bitch about it on my personal blog if nowhere else#(another reason I hate the ship is because of the awful power dynamics that are passed off as sexy™ and specific scenes that annoy me to#death. It's just a specific irk of mine. I don't really like ships where there is SUCH a huge power gap and then the narrative is like. But#did you know that the MAN in the higher power position ALSO suffered SO much. Like yes I know it's not the fault of the novels themselves#(they are...passable. Not the best I have read but I like them fine so) because they do engage with the themes somewhat (even if I wish tha#the author did not put the romance element due to fandom pressure. Airplane ass writing in play here. Feeling more and more like Cucumber b#the day) it still feels icky. I am very much for bad meetings turning to love trope but god this is just annoying#I don't know. He is a good character. She is a good character. Everyone is a good character. Romance? Trash. Plot? Lost track#I think the main reason is that it's trying to pull the ''she is not like the other girls because she is not into his looks (lmao) and thus#they are fated'' like I don't want to say it but I really don't like the romance trope of ''they were not like the other girls because they#were the only person who did not want to fuck them. Thus the story can only end when they do would want to fuck them'' like bitch what#it's worse when I see someone hc'ing her as as/pec like.....I wish we could have that#I wish we could have as/pec characters in mainstream media without having to specifically keep typing and filtering for them#it hurts so bad.#it's one of the biggest reasons I can't be bothered to watch the other one#sigh.#is it so bad to want a story where the mc isn't attracted to the creep and remains not attracted to said creep (who also! Isn't! Attracted!#To! Her!)#like yeah yeah there probably is but I have to put effort into searching that up so I am going to complain for a few more seconds and go#back to sleep.#kk's rambles tag
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busket · 29 days
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I understand personal preference and that some people just don't like ships with men, and that's ok! but I'm annoyed at the implication from some fans that labru has less depth as a relationship than farcille or any other wlw ship in dungeon meshi, and the idea that people are only shipping it as a joke, or because they're horny, or because they're misogynistic and don't want to look at female characters, etc etc. I've seen people call it like, "bloodlust obsession that turns to horniness" and it made me realize that the people who don't ship labru don't understand their dynamic at all. labru shippers didn't just pull this out of our asses lol
a lot of the story around kabru involves how he and laios are perfect opposites of eachother. NARRATIVE FOILS, if you will. everywhere kabru thrives (social interaction, charisma, the surface) laios completely fails. and everywhere that laios is most successful (in the dungeon against monsters) kabru keeps getting killed. not only that but their desires are mirrors of each other too: laios grew up bullied by humans and wanted to become a monster, kabru grew up dehumanized by his villagers and then the elves, so he wants to affirm his identity as a human being.
despite how kabru should be repulsed by laios due to his hatred of monsters, he's drawn to him instead. kabru spends the entire story trying to get to laios to talk to him and to get to know him. firstly he knows laios is closest to defeating the dungeon lord and needs to sus out if he's a good person, but he admits that he really wants to be friends with laios too, not just to determine his virtue but to see what value laios sees in monsters. he wants laios to share his interest in people, he wants laios to be interested in him back. kabru never had any true bloodlust or desire to kill laios, he was prepared to go that far if laios wasn't a good person, but once finding out that he has good intentions kabru spends all his energy trying to help laios instead. and when you consider that kabru spent his childhood believing he was half monster because of how he was ostracized in utaya, his curiosity about how laios could possibly love monsters feels so much more personal.
and for laios, he's not used to anyone taking an interest in him. people are constantly telling him he's weird, and the person he believed to be his best friend told him he couldn't stand him. he misses falin so dearly because she thinks he's the coolest man on earth, so meeting someone and being told "I hate monsters but I still want to know YOU" would have an impact on him, I think. in postcanon they become good friends, kabru becomes laios' right hand man to help him with more of the dicey social aspects of being a leader. laios asks him to stay by his side and help him, and kabru says "yeah, that's what I've been doing this whole time"
I wouldn't claim that a romantic relationship between them is CANON, but I wouldn't even say that about farcille either tbh (and I love farcille just as much so don't come for me lol) this isn't a comedy crackship that yaoi fans just made up. laios and kabru are really multi dimensional characters and they're made to reflect eachother in every way, even down to their physical design. so it's not out of nowhere that people ship them
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sugurism · 29 days
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ah your red /green flag post was really good. How about doing the type of person they are most likely to be attracted to..and if they would fall first or harder?
FALLING DOWN. ୨ৎ jjk men: their type of person + fell first, or fell harder?ㅤheadcanons
featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)
warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! possession ! some are delusional + yandere implied ! again, very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna (he's a warning of his own) ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! obsession and possession ! not really all dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, sukuna's part is insane ! mentions about marriage ! sadomasochism ! suggestive (sexual ideas about you) !
author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying the red / beige / green flag post! you're all so sweet, it made my day, truly. im so happy, and this suggestion was so fun, anon. a small reminder so no one gets lost, though — please, read my rules before interacting. i don't take requests, but i consider suggestions. wrote this because i enjoyed the idea! it's not good, though. wrote this in a hurry and im currently working on other WIPs. don't know if i liked the result, tbh.
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୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — attracted to someone's soul. fell harder.
the type of people choso likes is honestly pretty hard to describe. he is a romantic by nature, even if he is not aware of it. he really likes someone willing to cooperate with him and his family. anyone with an honest desire to protect him and his family and allow themselves to be protected as well.
with a body that was given to him (a dead body, even), he cares very little about physical appearance. a large part of him seeks to understand the essence of those he loves so that he can understand them without saying a word.
the moment he realized he fell in love with you was after a bloody battle. he was covered in blood and injuries while using his body's natural regeneration to recover. however, you forgot that ── you forgot his strength, you forgot his ability. you saw him as human as yourself, and by extension, fragile. bruised. mortal.
“choso! are you okay?” your warm hand touches his face, and choso's stomach twists at the thought of your delicate, perfect hands getting dirty because of his rotten blood. the blood of a cursed creature, neither human nor curse. and the way you look at him now: with affection, care. with the desire to want to protect him, as he would like to protect you.
and at this moment, he knows. what he feels is love. he feels like he's been struck by lightning, electrified to the last cell in his body. “y──yes. of course.”
god, he needs to marry you. now.
୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — attracted to an opposed strength. fell first.
this is personally inspired by my view of higuruma (and inspired by oc), but it would be an amazing cliché if he fell in love with a prosecutor. it is not exactly a person, but rather a dynamic. hiromi's type of person is someone who can argue their convictions and has the determination to defend their point of view. the kind of person who could get him back on track. someone who would argue back if he were wrong.
the moment he realized he fell in love with you was a very simple day. nothing unusual. the weather a little dark, a late afternoon full of heavy clouds threatening to pour their rain on him and you. when you looked at him and smirked after “winning” an argument, he felt his own heart skip a beat in a way he never thought it could before.
he wonders if you can notice. it's obvious, how could you not? how could he not notice it earlier, he wonders. for some reason, the idea makes hiromi flinch. his mouth opens to retort, but he gives up. will saying something make it obvious how much he is in love with you? he should wait before saying something. he can do that. he can wait and wonder, will someday, your heart jump like his, when he is around you?
୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — attracted to chaos. fell harder.
this may sound ironic, but considering megumi's deranged nature during fights requires equal and opposite strength. aka, someone as passionate and convinced as himself. someone who will turn and smile at him with blood on their hands as everything explode around you two.
the moment he realized he was in love with you was during a fight against a curse. a simple exorcism, in theory, but one where a creature suddenly appeared and was about to make him lunch. until its interruption, of course. shouting as you annihilated a curse so far from his level just to protect him ── a determination and raw fire in his eyes. it made you look like you could do anything, even kill gods.
it made his mouth go dry and his cheeks grow red. and megumi knew, it wasn't from adrenaline. it was something much, much stronger.
୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — attracted to calmness and stability. fell harder.
nanami already has a very chaotic presence in his life. satoru gojo's ironic giggles and crude jokes are terrifying. his senpai's irreverent behavior will haunt kento until the day he dies. therefore, nothing fairer than a partner who is calm, but not in the way he is calm ── cold, slightly arrogant, semi-distant from everything that is real. calm as water, in a serene and subtle, loving way. someone to share his burdens and allow himself to be vulnerable with.
the moment he realized he fell in love with you was — weird. stress gets to even the toughest of men, and someone under as much pressure as nanami, for all his composure, is still susceptible to it. the smallest things can make a stressed salaryman's day hell, like today.
nothing worked. absolutely everything backfired in the worst way possible. he spilled coffee on his jacket, had to ask for another one, where the barista got his order wrong, and in the end, he was almost late to start his work schedule. as he passed you through the jujutsu high campus (in order to avoid that tall, white ghost that terrifies his underclassmen to this day), you made him stop.
being an assistant teacher isn't exactly an easy job, considering the vast array of (potentially problematic) students that inhabit jujutsu schools. but you are always able to get them all on track without using a drop of harshness. there's a firmness to its sweetness, sure, but it's not intimidating. the brats even apologize to you honestly when they make mistakes.
when you see him, you wave gently and smile. and that smile makes kento exhale very slowly. the stress escaping him as if drained away. not entirely, but it was something. and nanami has a talent for spotting things that seem insignificant, but actually aren't.
oh, your smile. your smile always does this to him.
୨୧ SATORU GOJO — attracted to gentleness and honesty. fell first.
despite all the compliments satoru receives, he is completely sure that ninety-five percent of them are not at all sincere. it's like a poorly done bribe in an attempt to get the favor or appreciation of the strongest, because he will always be that. first the strongest sorcerer, then satoru. first a title and then a person. it's just how things work, there's no point complaining about them.
but a person who can honestly see him as a human being first and as who he is, beyond his title. a trustworthy and caring person, someone he can genuinely let his walls down with without it being a decision he regrets later.
the moment he realized he fell in love with you was on the verge of death. well, not at the brink of his death, but at yours. so many things could happen if he wasn't around, and they did. a fight with a curse user, and your obvious victory, but at what price? now he was waiting at the hospital anxiously, his fingers drumming the arm of the chair as he watched each person pass by.
every doctor, every nurse, every one of those miraculous people who could save your life. every second melted into its own agonizing torture, and satoru couldn't understand why. why was it so hard to calm down? he has been here before, so many times, with other friends in their deathbeds. it was agonizing all the same, but somehow, now it seemed worse.
when they finally said he could enter, satoru wasted no time. walking through the door and lowering her sunglasses towards him. you and your bruised body, lying on the bed and slowly turning to look at him. smiling through the pain, and his lips parting to murmur. “’toru. you're here.”
he sat down in the nearby chair and chuckled slightly, feeling his worries disappear. your voice, so gentle and truthful. so happy to see him — a friend, someone dear. not the strongest sorcerer, but him. “yeah. of course, i am.”
୨୧ SUGURU GETO. — attracted to passion. fell harder.
passion is one of the determining driving forces that makes humanity the sinister creatures that they are. passion for something can be good, like artists who created revolutionary works and opened the world's eyes to their problems. or, it can be terrible, as in geto's case: his passion is the cult and his new world.
he would like someone who is as passionate about something as he is about this philosophy itself. bonus points if the passion in question is the philosophy itself, but any number of other things might be acceptable.
it's difficult to describe a moment where suguru realizes he's in love with you, without defining a passion of yours. maybe it's a hobby like art, or maybe it's caring for a pet. it's necessary context, but whatever it is, he realizes your determination and ends up completely falling in love with it. with you.
be it watching you smiling while finishing a painting, petting your cat proudly, or anything that reveals you're determined to stick to your own principles. like he will stick to his.
୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN. — attracted to violence. fell harder.
i saw a post once, talking about how a sukuna's ideal type (assuming he had one) really is someone who wants him dead. it's hard to explain it, but he's definitely attracted to the more disturbing aspects of a person. in particular, a taste for violence and independence.
however, he might not like it so much if this independence became a challenge. he is willing to allow very extensive freedom to any human who interests him ── within certain limits. a king must not allow the absolute insubordination of those beneath him, after all.
he wants someone raw, and visceral. bonus points if there is a possibility that he will mentally destroy you and turn you into some kind of obedient pet. someone who was not made to be his, but could become, if he shaped you to be his and only his. don't kings enjoy having pets? he should, as well.
the moment he realizes he is in love with you is definitely a bloody scenario. you have just ripped apart a curse with your bare hands. watching you like a hawk, he sees you — covered in purple blood and panting. sukuna wonders if you would show this same voracity in other situations.
if he took you to bed, would you agree happily, spreading your legs at him and laying down obediently for him to do as he pleases? or perhaps you would try to stab him, or open his chest with your bare hands, as you did with that inferior little creature? ripping his heart out, looking him in the eyes while you take a bite of it.
he licks his lips at the thought.
୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — attracted to spontaneous and joy. fell first.
toge does not have the ability to communicate in words normally, due to his technique's nature. he is fortunate to have access to other means of communication ── cellphones, notepads, even sign language. but something that attracts him is the perspective of someone who understands him well, and who has the energy to speak for him.
the moment he realizes he is in love with you is during a conversation. he, you and his friends are all walking and gathered together, discussing casual things. even with the hectic routine that you all have, it is very important to have these moments where you can act like normal people and not just wizards (he will bring sweets for panda, to make up for him not being able to come).
maki turns around, asking what he wants to eat. toge considers for a few moments. he honestly doesn't feel hungry tonight, but before he can respond in his ingredient language, you look at him for a second and help him communicate.
“hey, wait! i don’t think he’s hungry. right, toge?” he nods, a little surprised that you can understand before he even says anything. and while the sounds of chatter disappear around him, he focuses on you and your face. you, who always pays attention to him. you, who understands him.
୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — attracted to a mix of chaotic and calmness. fell harder.
the loss of mamaguro affected toji in indescribable ways. a man should never be forced to bury the love of his life, but that's what happened. as a result, he returned to bad habits and destroyed his own life. so, his type ends up being something very difficult to define. i think he would still like someone like mamaguro, but not completely. the type of person who can be chaotic as well as calm. someone who doesn't necessarily fix him again, but someone with whom he can see companionship and honesty. kind of like partners in crime.
of course he appreciates your kindness, but he really lacks showing it back. a part of him stays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're so good to him — when toji is fully aware he's not good enough for you. generally, he wouldn't mind. he moves from woman to woman, relationship to relationship, simply for money. why is he caring now?
the moment he realized he was in love with you was actually during an argument. toji is someone who is extremely difficult to deal with because of his relaxed and self-serving nature ── plus, he purposely acts annoying during fights, but you never freak out. well, today you freaked out. and while you're swearing at him from the rooftops and pointing accusingly, he can only stop and feel himself melting. for some reason.
it doesn't make sense, of course it doesn't make sense. but your calmness contrasted by such abrasive anger is extremely attractive. it's more than attractive. he feels like gasoline and you feel like a match. and god, how he wants to burn.
୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — attracted to gentleness, honesty, and pride. fell harder.
yuji's destiny has always been marred by constant and untimely misfortunes. he loses friends and fights, he fails in moments where he should win, and the destruction upon him is both physical and mental. but there is hope. a kind person who genuinely understands him and can help him take the reins or share the burden when it all gets a bit too much. someone who watches bad movies with him and laughs at the terrible jokes he makes. someone who is willing to help him forget the horrors of the world for five minutes, or be rational when he is emotional.
the moment he realizes he's in love with you is when he leaves the cinema. a (very disgusting) sequel to his favorite horror film series just came out, and you were the only person who agreed to watch it with him. as he excitedly searches the bottom of the popcorn bucket for some leftovers, he notices you looking at him. "what?" he mumbles, crunching on the popcorn.
you laugh lightly, reaching out to wipe his crumb-covered cheek. “yuji, your face is all dirty! wait, i’ll get a napkin.” that little contact of your palm with his cheek is── scorching. there is no other way to describe it. the sensation is so sudden that as you move away to grab a napkin, he lets the practically empty bucket fall to the floor.
there was so much tenderness in your stare, so much care and appreaciation. even if it wasn't your cup of tea, even if the movie would be a horrible set-up for a date, was this a date? even with all that, you— enjoyed it. enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, caring for him.
oh god. he is so in love.
୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — attracted to roughness and sincerity. fell first.
honestly, yuta's type can be a mean person. he wouldn't admit it, because he doesn't know how to say it without sounding almost like a masochist, but someone dragging him around by the collar while he smiles like an obedient dog is a pretty attractive prospect. he feels that he could cooperate very well with someone who is the very opposite of him ── as strange as it may seem. his type of person isn't really specific, he kind of just wants the basics: honesty, loyalty, affection. but if he could choose? someone more raw and honest, for sure. someone who would set the world on fire.
the moment he realized he was in love with you was in a strange and awkward situation. after an argument with one of his friends, you were just going to turn around and walk away at a steady pace. he doesn't like conflict, guys ── it's very stressful and makes yuta extremely anxious ── so his reaction is to just kind of stand there looking like an idiot. but you grab him by the arm and pull him away. “don't just stand there, yuta. let's go.”
“y—yes. of course.”
despite this, he knows you wouldn't be rude to him, or wouldn't be rude without a good reason. still, the almost angry tone in your voice and the authority you exude. even though he knew that in terms of power levels he would be stronger? totally attractive. he can see himself following you back and forth and a kind of dynamic that works like that. kinder and somewhat socially anxious boyfriend, and you, a scorching flame that consumes everything around you.
he kinda wants to be consumed, anyway.
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ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. thank you for reading! <3ㅤㅤthis was not proofread.
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ohnoitstbskyen · 2 months
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I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.
I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?
Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.
There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).
Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.
It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?
Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.
But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.
It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.
And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.
I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.
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sundrop-writes · 4 months
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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson One
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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.
811 notes · View notes
solselah · 3 months
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✨SECRETS ?✨
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PILE 1 : So someone wants to tell you
SO BAD that they are scared of intimacy & being Open !! For them it doesn’t matter WHO you are it has been a persistent issue for them in life. They are trying their best to hide this from you , you can tell they don’t want to sabotage the beginning of something Amazing! They are holding back communicating to you that this is an issue they deal with. They tend to run when things get a little hard & they are TRYING to hold that back from you! They just don’t want to have to move on because of it. Honestly your understanding would touch them in a way they never felt before , prompting them to at least try to be transparent!! They are afraid of the karma they will receive from keeping this from you !! You can always ask to have a conversation and see how that goes as far as I see , it can go pretty well & encourage healthy habits!!
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PILE 2:
Awee this is so adorable !!!
You have a lover or crush who secretly is in love with you (Too?) but the love where it’s so Mushy so sweet & pure!! They speak to their guides & ancestors/God about you!! They explain to them that you take such good care of yourself & Your just the definition of love for them! They leave this a secret because they want the seduction to like never END ! It just spices the dynamic up 100% they secretly watch you , definitely does not seem weird more so like if you’re walking by they are checking you out! they are looking for sure! You’re what we would call a
“secret lover”✨
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PILE 3: soooo …. I’m getting two scenarios one is that There is some one intending to do magic on you !! I’m getting their name starts with the following
(N,L,S,U,D,C) for this next scenario you could be practicing mirror magic or Doing beauty spells which currently help your self love journey out 100%!!
I’m also seeing someone could be jealous of the results of these spells … it seems to also be some form of mirror magic / Beauty magic they want to “Reverse” I truly hear that someone is jealous of your looks! You’re looking like a baddie always / your looking handsome always & they really just can’t take it! The energy I’m feeling from them is Very bored & Powerless! Like this attempt to Put magic on you … or attempt to reverse yours!
this persons magic WILL NOT dare leave the 3D haha ! Little do they know your ANGELS are on GO ! & you have this natural connection to KALI MA who has been fighting these battles alongside you those that you can’t see fully ! Don’t you even worry. This persons magic is so petite & kind of already Got blocked by their own guides 😬 that’s how you know it’s petty!!
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PILE 4:
The secret being hidden from you is the change you’re about to go through !! I’m not permitted to say too much but I will say it will have everything to do with public scenery , Party scene , and entertainment!! You will be stepping out a zone you haven’t left since maybe high school or even middle school for some !! This will change your personality and character for the better !! People wont even recognize your maturity and new zeal for life !! I’m so excited for you to experience this change and enjoy it as much as you can !! Later in life things will slow down in the sweetest way! For those who have been apartment hunting and looking for a HOUSE , this is coming in sooner than you think!! Also quick reminder to Someone make sure you Update your important information
License , certificates , Paper work etc , you may have someone who wants to double check so I would even make some copies if possible! Its always Beneficial to be over prepared than to be unprepared in totality. :)
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Hope you enjoy ✨
IG: @soleccentric
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tenpintsofsundrop · 8 months
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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson One
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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 | Series Masterlist
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Full list of 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. also remember, if you want me to continue this series, please give me some feedback on it! I would love to hear what you thought of this fic before I start writing another one! I highly resisted the urge to put Mommy kink in this, but I feel like it would be unrealistic for a shy Spencer to be comfortable calling his partner Mommy during a first time (he would have a Mommy kink but he would be way too uptight/uncomfortable to admit it).
...
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.”
...
The sequel to this fic has now been posted!
Keep Reading Here: Lesson Two - Magic Metacarpals
932 notes · View notes
acey-wacey · 1 year
Note
Hello! I hope you are having a great day, evening or night! Could you do a love triangle? Where 2 twst boys are crushing on Yuu and literally fighting over them while Yuu is oblivious to the whole thing. Maybe with these characters; Riddle, Jamil, Leona, Malleus and whoever else you choose???? If not then I completely understand!! So sorry to bother!!!
This is kinda fun and silly. I love oblivious Y/N bc that's just me :))). I also added Azul and Ace because I think the dynamic of them fighting over someone would be really funny.
...
🌹 Riddle Rosehearts 🌹
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🐍 Jamil Viper 🐍
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Neither of them see each other as competition tbh.
Riddle thinks Jamil is too scheming for you to like him and Jamil thinks Riddle is too stuck-up for your taste.
They both do little things to get your attention, neither being particularly fond of bold declarations.
Riddle always let you have the first slice of tart at unbirthday parties, which is actually a huge deal in the Kingdom of Roses but no one is allowed to say anything to you.
You're the only person Jamil can tolerate being in the kitchen with him while he's cooking.
He'll even let you put on your own music because he thinks it's cute watching you sing along.
They only notice their rival on Valentine's Day when you make chocolates for all of your friends.
In your alchemy class, Jamil was watching closely as you handed Riddle a box of chocolates to see the boy turn as red as his hair.
Riddle had never really noticed Jamil even though they were in the same class, but he did notice how the Scarabia dormleader smiled when you gave him his chocolates.
Riddle had never seen Jamil smile that genuinely and after asking Kalim, it wasn't a usual occurrence except for things that were really special.
After that, the boys didn't go out of their way to make a rivalry. They didn't want to spark any inter-dorm conflict.
But secretly, their hearts ache whenever they see you talking to the other.
They have to up their game on trying to subtly woo you.
It's quite a field day for you since you're receiving twice the homework help as usual, as well as many sweets left on your desk.
Grim is very pleased about this development because you always come back to the dorm with a bag full of Trey's baked goods and what is apparently some leftovers from dinner that Jamil made last night and definitely not something he made specifically for you.
Neither even consider conceding defeat since they're both so stubborn with things they want.
All the while, you are completely and blissfully ignorant of the glares they send each other across the classroom when you aren't looking.
...
🦁 Leona Kingscholar 🦁
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Vs
🐉 Malleus Draconia 🐉
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They already hated each other, what's one more reason?
They both immediately noticed that they were rivals in love.
You were the only person who wasn't afraid of Malleus and he milked your attention, not afraid to show small shows of affections towards you which you interpreted as platonic intimacy even though it clearly wasn't.
And it wasn't very hard to tell that Leona acted differently around you.
He made an effort to actually stay awake when you were talking and, on occasion, even came to class when you asked him too.
It didn't take long for both Leona and Malleus to put together the feelings their rival harbored for their crush.
Mostly Leona saw Malleus as an active threat to his territory while Malleus just didn't like that you were spending time with the lion instead of him.
If you know anything about dragons, they get very possessive with their hoard which was, in this case, his very special human.
You would think that you would notice how you were being tugged on by two angry monsters, but you just assumed that was how they showed affection.
Whenever you were with Leona, he would put an arm around you or pull you into his lap.
Every night, when you went on your walks with Malleus, he would present you with some shiny knick-knack of some sort, which was practically a confession in the Faelands, though he knew you wouldn't understand.
To anyone else, their disdain for each other, as well as their affection for you, was entirely obvious but you just went along as if nothing was wrong.
You knew they had a Magishift rivalry and you assumed that was the only reason they butted heads so often.
Eventually, neither of them was getting anywhere with you and you seemed to favor then both equally, so they made a bet.
"Listen, you horned b*stard. I know you have a thing for Y/N and I know you know that so do I."
"Get to the point, Kingscholar."
"The winter ball is coming up. We both ask them to go and whoever they turn down has to back off for good."
"That's a bold move. Sure you're ready to give up Y/N forever?"
"I don't intend to lose."
It was kind of odd for you with the Winter Ball being the only thing people talked about.
Every time you approached a group, they flicked away from you like you were on the wrong end of a magnet.
You thought it was because no one wanted to go with you but it was really because they knew if they got within 10 feet of you, they would be viciously attacked by your love interests.
No one was allowed to ask you before Leona or Malleus, even if you rejected them.
They both fought to be the first person to ask you, resulting in neither of them actually asking you until a week before the ball.
They weren't worried about you already having a date though since they'd scared off all your potential dates.
Both were running out of time so they decided to ask you at the same time.
When you chuckled nervously in response to their question, they knew something was wrong.
They though they had scared away all potential suitors but they forgot about the one person they never considered a rival.
"I'm really sorry, you guys, but I already promised Grim I would go with him. He has this dapper little bowtie, it's so cute! I'll save you both a dance though!"
The two of them stood there stunned in silence as you skipped away.
Grim scampered up to them and put his hands on his hips, grinning smugly.
"Hehe, neither of you will ever date my henchman if I have anything to say about it!"
Leona just had to growl at him for him to run back to you with his tail between his legs.
...
🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 🐙
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Vs
❤️ Ace Trappola ❤️
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You wouldn't normally think of them having a rivalry.
But Ace had always liked you and Azul just realized his feelings after his overblot.
You comforted him and accepted him which meant more than you knew.
So imagine his surprise when he discovered that the idiot who got himself indentured to the Mostro Lounge was also vying for your attention and succeeding.
Azul had never been so envious of a first year.
He considered ignoring you until his crush went away but he saw Ace as competition now and he was far too stubborn to give up.
Meanwhile, Ace had absolutely no idea of Azul's feelings for you.
You had 3 classes with Ace and the two of you spent a lot of time together, with the other first years and just with each other.
Ace knew it was strictly platonic but he just loves your attention in any form, even if it was scolding him for something stupid.
One day, his and Grim's antics got far more out of hand than was intended and he found himself in need again.
It was quite a coincidence that Azul was right there willing to clean up his mess for just a small price (?)
It was ever so satisfying to watch his rival slaving away at the Mostro Lounge, but Azul had calculated the outcome of this encounter.
All according to Azul's plan, you came to the Mostro Lounge to scold Ace and Grim and try to bail them out again.
Don't get me wrong, you were seething at how irresponsible they was, being indentured for the second time, but Grim was your responsibility and if Crowley knew the only other member of your dorm had gotten in hot water again, he would use it as another excuse to cut your allowance.
Both you and Ace were very suspicious of how amiable Azul was when you asked what you'd have to do to get the first years out of their payment.
Azul offered to let the entire ordeal go if you would agree to go on a date with him.
You thought he was joking because what self-respecting businessman would stake a money-making endeavor on a personal matter?
You didn't think it would be that easy to get Azul to let Ace and Grim off the hook but at that point, you would do anything to get Grim to stop whining your ear off about "being a slave to the takoyaki".
You took the opportunity and signed on the dotted line: you would go on a date with Azul and he would let your friends go free.
Ace, though he now was freed from servitude, was not happy at all about this development.
Why did that shady b*stard even want to go out with you anyway? He doesn't deserve that!
You are a little wary of Azul, seeing as how he actively tricked you into going out with him but he grew on you.
You started hanging out at the Mostro Lounge, making Ace even more jealous.
Azul was the picture of perfection around you though that didn't stop Jade from bringing up how Azul turned into a blushing, feet-kicking mess as soon as you left.
Grim was very conflicted when he discovered that your options were either the boy who attempted to enslave him at any opportunity and the boy whose mistakes get him enslaved.
"What do you need a boyfriend for, henchman? You've got me!"
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fanstuffrantings · 8 months
Text
Things the live action one piece had that I enjoyed:
Genuinely intimidating Buggy. People forget he's actually supposed to be scarey and the choice to have the town already be decimated with him forcing the crowd to adore him is amazing. Plus his portrayal was just fun all around.
Garp chasing luffy to test him. It totally fits and it gives us a secondary antagonist throughout the season for people who don't watch the anime/read the manga to enjoy while also developing Helmeppo and Coby. It keeps their B plot while still building the main story.
Usopp and Kaya's romance. The anime already has the implication there but if anyone got a romance I'm glad it was usopp. It's a sweet one and I'm someone who hopes the anime actually ends with them as a couple.
How they adjusted bits of the characters to better fit the medium. Sanji being a natural smooth flirt, usopp being cowardly but still doing what was necessary being two of them. We have a much shorter timeline to work with and doing slight changes meant that the characters could endear themselves to the audience more smoothly.
Luffy discovering his abilities during fights. Another thing that is more helpful for new watchers.
Mihawk actually fully putting down the krieg pirates. It was disappointing we didn't fully get a sanji arc fight but the choice to show Mihawk's skill during the garp call as he easily dispatches the huge krieg pirate army was a genuinely good call.
The crew having less hostility towards each other. I'm always going to love the anime dynamic but the live action dynamics kept the core of their relationships even with the changes. Sanji seeming to adore luffy, luffy being attentive to everyone, and nami being disgruntled but not outwardly violent with them.
Alvida keeping the same actress and her weight/looke never being something lobbied as an insult against her. All insults were on her personality. Her actress is genuinely fantastic in what other things I've seen her in. If we get season 2/Loguetown I would love to see her play off Buggy more.
Syrup village being a shipbuilding town, it helps explain usopp as the original best choice for fixing the merry while also helping us understand how he'd be able to know about building weapons. And using it to then trap everyone in the mansion during the final battle, truly inspired.
The live-action was clearly cared for and I do hope we get to see more arcs though I wonder how it will work.
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ellecdc · 24 days
Note
Nsfw!
Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.
I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.
What do you think?
oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below
CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+
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So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?
I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.
Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.
I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking
HOWEVER.....
I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.
if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)
Now for Regulus lolololololol
No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].
Together?
I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.
I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"
And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.
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bixels · 2 months
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So i have a small nicpic i wanted to share with you about your interpretation of spike in the au and i want to make two things clear before i talk
1) i havent watch the series for a little while as of now so i might be misnterpreting a aspect of this chatacter that might have never been there and only apeared in fan content and personal interpretation (since that whats been keeping me on the fandom)
2) this is not a big problem about the au i matured enough to not get angry at a interpretation of a fictional charater
Now here i go
I feel spike being the same race as the rest of his familie makes him lose a part of his character that might have not been central but was still something interesting about him and is the idea of not mayhering how diferent he looked from his adoptive family (and his cominty as a whole) he was he was still seen as part of it
Again this isnt a big problem with the au as a whole its just a small nicpic that i have about the au and its not going to make me hate the au
This was just my opinion that i wanted to share and im interested to know your opinion about what i said
I understand this criticism and agree that having Simon/Spike be a different race than Thea could speak to their relationship in the original show.
My reasoning for designing them both to be African American is this. I believe Simon's adoption is enough to explore the feelings of separation and exclusion he may have with Thea and her family. The original show doesn't bring up Twilight and Spike's racial differences much because they originally didn't consider Spike to be a part of Twilight's family. As far as I know, there's no moment where someone says, "Wow! You're telling me you're related to Twilight Sparkle? But you look nothing alike!" because Spike was more so Twilights... familiar than anything.
Later episodes that explore their familial dynamic poses the conflict through Spike's adoption. There's one episode where Spike's "biological father" returns, and Spike accuses Twilight of not being his real family, which breaks her heart. There's another that delves deep into Spike's feelings of exclusion from Twilight and Shining Armor's siblinghood. Basically, in discussions of family dynamics, the show places more emphasis on Spike's identity as an adopted sibling rather than a dragon.
I really do believe a multiracial family would be good representation, but the racial dynamics would not be something I'd be interested in getting into. That's not to say I find real multiracial families problematic or uninteresting or unappealing or unimportant. I just wouldn't be interested in having to explain in-text that Simon (non-black) and Thea (black) are related over and over; it would grow tedious. It adds an extra level of writing complication and opens up racial discourse (discourse that I feel is unrelated to their relationship in the original show) that I don't want to concern myself with, especially because I have no experience in navigating such discourse.
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