warnings: smut! oral (female receiving)
also y/n doesn't shave in this chapter and that's okay PLEASEEE STOP BEING GROSSED OUT BY IT Y'ALL
...
Ideally you would've woken up to a text from Spencer asking you to come over that night.
Instead, you woke up to the dreaded sound of your alarm and a message from your mom asking how to unsubscribe from a newsletter.
To your disappointment, the rest of the day went by with radio silence. Sunday followed in Saturday's footsteps.
So much for keeping in touch, you thought.
On Monday, upon walking into the office, you were called to the roundtable almost immediately and sent on a new case that had you away in Kansas for four days.
Spencer was friendly throughout but made no references to your dinner last week, which you knew was the appropriate thing to do since you were working.
Still, you kept creating situations where it would've been easy for him to get you alone, but he never made the jump.
He even sat behind you on the way home but never started a conversation, and when you landed everyone was tired and went home straight away.
You made it to your apartment around 10pm, sleepy but not sleepy enough to go to bed right away.
As you were settling in to watch some foreign, made for television film that looked pretty unappealing, your phone rang.
Spencer was calling you. Finally.
You counted to five before answering, not wanting to seem like you had been waiting by the phone even though, in reality, you had.
"Hey," you greeted, voice shaking as a result of how fast your heart was beating.
You found it odd just how much control he had over you and how he could trigger physical reactions in your body just by seeing his name on a screen.
"You didn't follow my instructions," he deadpanned, skipping the formality of a hi.
"What instructions?"
"Earlier, on the jet home, you pulled out your phone to show something to JJ and Emily."
"Uh, yeah I was showing them an article I read the other day about idiomatic expressions and their influence on modern culture-,"
Spencer interrupted, "Riveting, but I don't care about that right now. You still have that app on your phone."
Shit. You'd completely forgotten to delete it.
Spencer had seen that as disobedience.
To be fair, after he drove you home, the last thing on your mind was going back online to talk to more men.
"Spencer, I forgot all about that app; you have to believe me. I wasn't even thinking about it, which is why it slipped my mind," you attempted to explain, sounding panicked.
"The only words I want to hear coming out of your mouth right now are an apology, Y/N."
"I- I'm sorry. I won't do it again?" you said, though it sounded more like a question because of the uncertainty in your voice.
"Now say it like you mean it," he demanded.
You could picture him at home, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed as he worked to keep his cool.
"I'm sorry. I won't do it again," you said, this time using your most confident tone.
"Good, but you're not off the hook. I meant to call last weekend, but I got tied up with some other things. I want you to come to my apartment, now."
Fuck. But you hadn't shaved.
"Spencer, I-
"See you in twenty minutes."
The white noise in the background ceased, and you knew he'd hung up, preventing you from objecting to his request. Shit.
You scrambled to grab your keys and practically ran out the door, zoning out during the drive to the point where you couldn't remember how you'd even gotten to his place. One second you were leaving your apartment; the next you were at his.
What was he going to do you when you came inside?
You made the familiar trek up the building's noisy stairs to apartment 23, knocking on the door timidly.
Spencer opened seconds later, resting an arm against the doorframe as he studied you with an unintelligible expression on his face.
"Don't be shy, come in," he requested, turning around and walking back inside.
You followed him to the living room where he collapsed on the couch with a sigh.
"Remember the ground rules I told you about?" Spencer asked, wasting no time.
"I do," you replied.
"Good, cause there's even more that we need to go through," he sighed, grabbing a pillow from the couch and moving it behind his back to lean against.
"Make yourself comfortable, we're probably going to be here for a while," he informed you.
You tucked your legs into your chest and wrapped your arms around them, resting your head in between your knees.
"Or you could curl up into a ball; they're both viable options," Spencer laughed quietly, letting out a short puff of air from his nose.
You nuzzled your head further down to show that you were perfectly fine in that position.
"I've always kind of liked sitting in weird positions," you explained, "it's not uncomfortable for me."
"Good to know."
Spencer made a few barely audible tsk sounds, trying to figure out where to start with you.
"Let's start out easy. You already know what a safe word is. What do you want yours to be?"
"That's what I say when I want you to stop?" You'd briefly discussed the topic together a few weeks ago.
"Yes, and if you use the safe word; I'll stop what I'm doing immediately and the scene will be over."
"There's no limits on what it can be?" you asked, an idea popping into your head.
"Pretty much, but it needs to be distinctive enough that you wouldn't use it regularly in another context," he replied.
"What about just the word 'red?' That's not something I'd say everyday..."
"I'm okay with that," he expressed.
"Now, similarly, if I try something that you're okay with or that you enjoy, I'd like you to say the word 'green' to let me know where you're at, okay? It's a way for me to check in on you that's worked with my previous partners."
"Speaking of your previous partners..." you began warily, "Did you have to explain all these terms to them too?"
"Occasionally," he admitted. "For some reason they didn't like it when I referred to body parts by their biological name, so I had to get used to saying the word ass without correcting myself."
"Oh," you mustered.
"Anyway, I don't think we ever touched on limits?" he inquired, looking over to you for confirmation. You shook your head no.
"Generally speaking, there's hard limits and soft limits, but they vary depending on the person. I'll let you know what mine are if or when it becomes relevant," he briefed.
You were curious as to what his were but figured he'd stay true to his word and tell you if the time came.
"I assume you're going to explain the difference between the two," you said expectantly.
Spencer licked his lips and brought a hand up to his face to rub his chin. "A soft limit is an action in which a submissive hesitates or places strict conditions on. It's something that's okay in some circumstances, but not always."
"You mean like anal?" Better to just say what you were thinking, you thought.
Spencer coughed, shocked by your outburst. He hit his chest a few times to get his breathing back to normal.
"Uh, that's definitely a possibility. As I said, it's different for everyone."
"What about hard limits?" you asked.
"Hard limits are automatically out of the question, things that you're not willing to try. Do you have any already that you know of?"
You shook your head.
"Don't worry, you'll figure them out as we go, and I'll respect whatever you don't want to do."
"Thank you," you said softly.
"Course," he replied. "Now, when it comes to me touching you, is there any part of your body you'd like me to stay away from?"
"No," you replied semi confidently. "On second thought, I don't really like feet, so to be safe, don't touch mine, and I won't touch yours."
"Foot fetishes can often be traced back into a person's childhood, possibly even because of cross wiring in the brain between the area that processes sexual gratification and the area that controls sensory synapses to your feet.
It's quite common really."
You looked at him with a stunned expression.
Please have that be something he knows about because he's a genius and not for any other reason, you hoped.
"It's not something that I'm interested in personally," he clarified, blushing.
Keeping the questions rolling, he asked,
"Are you okay with me touching you with objects?" You nodded.
"Are you okay with oral?" You nodded again.
"Giving and receiving?" Yet another nod.
"I'll keep that in mind, now onto the last question," he said hesitantly.
"I'm ready whenever," you maintained, shooting him a faint smile.
"Y/N, you know that this doesn't change anything between us outside this apartment, right? We're just two friends helping each other out."
You thought back to the day when he'd cornered you after the case briefing and told you how hard it was for him to act professional around you.
"Strictly physical, I get it."
"Good," he said softly.
Silence, again.
Spencer started mumbling under his breath, going through a checklist of anything else he had to go over.
"Cross that bridge when we get there... certainly not doing that tonight... save that one for later; it'll be something to look forward to.
I think that about covers it for now. There's some other stuff I'll need to run by you later, but we've addressed a sufficient amount for what we're going to do tonight."
And what exactly would you be doing?
"Everything's already set up in my room, so we can go over there and check it out if you're ready," Spencer proposed, going to undo his tie.
You felt vulnerable already, and you hadn't even done anything yet.
"Spencer?" you called.
"Yeah?" he asked, turning to you.
You wanted to memorialize the way he looked in that moment and keep it in your head forever.
In the back of your mind, a voice warned you that thinking about him in this way was dangerous. Strictly physical.
You ignored it, assuring yourself that Spencer was just a colleague who happened to be willing to help you learn more about a part of yourself you hadn't explored yet.
"Were you going to say something, Y/N?" Spencer queried, breaking you from your trance.
"Oh, yeah," you said in a daze. "I just wanted to know, like, if you want this too? I know you said you wanted to look out for me, but I don't want you to feel like this is something you have to do... I don't want to be a chore."
Spencer frowned, narrowing his eyes.
"Is that what you think?"
"It's kind of the impression I got the other day," you shrugged, looking away from him.
"I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want to, I assure you. You're not a chore. Honestly, I can't tell you how long I've been wanting to-
Spencer stopped mid sentence.
"Wanting to what?" you questioned, furrowing your brows.
"To help out a friend in need," he said after a moment.
You decided while you were at it, you might as well ask the other pressing question on your mind.
"Am I, you know, your type?"
"You're very easy on the eyes if that's what you're asking," Spencer laughed as he walked to the sink, grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, and filled them with water.
"Biologically speaking, no one's perfect," he continued. "Each generation, the people with the most suitable traits for carrying on their species mate with each other and have children who will then go on to do the same. They're the people society finds conventionally attractive."
You weren't sure how to respond.
"What I'm saying is, nobody's perfect, but you're getting there," he chuckled, a genuine smile on his face.
"My room is that way," he pointed out, changing the subject.
You led the way; the apartment was small enough that you could make your way around it knowing where things most likely were.
Spencer's bedroom was similar to the rest of his apartment except for the fact that it was slightly more minimalist.
There were bookshelves, but they weren't as overwhelming as in the living room, and everything in his room seemed to belong.
The bed itself was smaller than you imagined, but that wasn't what caught your attention when you first walked in; it was the nylon restraints that were already attached to the bedposts.
Spencer followed you into the room, setting down the glasses of water on the bedside table. "Hydration is really important," he told you.
"I believe you..."
Spencer stayed silent.
"What now?" you asked, unsure if you were supposed to have done something already.
"Take off your clothes. I want to see you. All of you," he instructed, leaning up against the wall.
You nodded at him.
You began to remove your shirt, making sure look at him the entire time. To your surprise, he held your stare, eyes never leaving yours until you finally looked away from him.
You unbuttoned your shorts and stepped out of them, dropping them along with your shirt on the floor.
Spencer didn't say anything, but his eyes took you in gratefully. You realized the image of your body was now in his mind forever, and that he would be able to think of you like this whenever he wanted to.
"Lay down," he told you, nodding over at the bed.
Even the feeling of your skin against the sheets was amplified due to how excited you were. Every single nerve ending in your body was suddenly at attention.
It was as if he could sense that you were on edge. He softened. "It's only me. You're safe with me."
You repeated his words to yourself.
It's only him, you thought.
Spencer gave you an expectant look, glancing down at your chest. You understood what he was asking and reached back to unclasp your bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms.
Despite your initial instinct to cross your arms over your chest, you resisted, looking over to Spencer, who had approached you and extended an hand out.
"Put them here," he said, referring to your underwear.
You began to slide the black lace material down your legs, rolling it into a ball and giving it to him along with your bra.
Spencer looked you up and down once, inspecting your body before disposing your clothes on the floor by your shirt and returning to you.
"I'm going to tie up your hands now, is that okay?" he asked gently, stroking your forearm.
"Green," you told him, knocking down your last line of defense. You had given yourself up to him completely. You were his.
"Good girl; you remembered," he purred happily.
You watched as he reached for the restraints and secured them around your wrists, all the while looking at you to gauge your reaction.
You pulled on them to see just how much you could move and found that your elbows could reach the top of your midriff.
"Tighter," you requested.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you replied, letting out a breath. Spencer fastened the restraints further until you could barely move your arms at all.
"Much better," you said.
Very gently so as not to take you by surprise, he grabbed your thighs and pushed them apart, tying them to the bedposts as well to leave you exposed like a piece of art on display.
When he was finished, he took a step back so he could see all of you. It was like you'd done earlier; he was trying to memorialize the way you looked in that moment.
You could feel the color rising to your cheeks.
Why hadn't he said anything?
Seemingly reading your mind he told you, "God, you're beautiful."
The anxious feelings flowing through your veins seconds earlier dissipated as he continued, "It's gonna be hard for me to see you with clothes on now that I've seen you like this."
The comments relaxed you further, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the mattress.
"Are you ready?" Spencer asked.
You nodded in response, a feeling settling in your stomach that this was the last you were going to see of his soft side for a while.
He situated himself on the bed, getting on top and straddling you so that one leg was on either side of your body.
While you could feel him pressing against you, he was careful not to rest his entire weight on you so you weren't uncomfortable.
Then, once you had gotten used to the feeling of him on top of you, he touched you for the first time.
First it was your arms, and then your shoulders.
After a few seconds of tracing his fingers around the dip of your collarbone, he moved his hands to your neck and wrapped them around your throat. How easy it would be to for him to have you completely at his will.
Spencer inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes in ecstasy as he tightened his grip around you.
He let one hand stray to your face, stroking his thumb against your cheek. You were paralyzed each time, trying to predict where he'd touch you next.
Spencer's fingers left a tingling sensation on your body everywhere they went; you could still feel them on you even when he'd moved them elsewhere.
Light as a feather, he ran his hand up the side of your torso, squeezing when he got to the dip in your waist.
He found your breasts, gently taking one in each hand. You let out a heavy breath and let your eyes flutter shut.
"Eyes open," he commanded, eliciting an immediate response from you.
"I want you to be watching everything I do, everywhere I touch you," he declared, voice low.
In slow, deliberate movements, he brushed his fingers over your nipples, causing them to harden at the touch. The feeling of him pressing against the most sensitive spots of your body was beyond anything you'd felt before.
You made an effort to raise your chest to create more friction between you. Spencer matched your efforts and removed his his hands from your body.
"Don't," he growled, "you're so needy."
You moaned as he moved to take one of your breasts in his mouth, circling his tongue around your nipple. "Ah," you whined, growing more impatient by the second.
Giving your nipple a final flick, he released it and diverted his attention to your face.
"I think it's time to teach you a lesson," he whispered into your ear, lips ghosting over your skin. Another whimper escaped you as he grabbed your earlobe with his teeth and gently pulled.
"You need to understand that when you don't listen to me there will be consequences." Spencer said as he withdrew from you, depriving you of his touch.
He got off of you and moved at a tortuously slow pace back to the front of the bed until he was right in between your legs.
"I wonder what you taste like," he commented, peering at you under sultry eyes. "Should I find out?"
He knelt in front of the bed so that he was eye level with the most intimate part of you. He took another deep breath, contemplating his next move.
"Do you deserve my mouth? No, you don't, but I might cave and give it to you anyways because of how good you look like this," he replied from between your legs.
His words sent shivers down your spine.
Spencer and dirty talk, two things you thought would've never gone together a month ago, had combined in the best way possible.
"Let's start with a warmup," he proposed and slid two fingers inside of you.
Holy fuck.
You felt like you were coming alive for the first time. Arching your back at the sheer sensation, you stifled a moan in the back of your throat.
"Don't hold back. I want everyone on this floor to hear just how pathetic you sound when you beg for me."
You moaned again, this time louder.
"I'm surprised by how good you're listening to me right now given how you blatantly disregarded my instructions earlier," he murmured as you felt his fingers searching for the one spot inside you that would drive you insane.
"I asked you to do one thing, one thing and you couldn't even do that, could you?" Spencer
asked, curling his fingers up into you.
"I can't," you sobbed, shaking from the feelings of pleasure shooting through your body. It was almost too much.
"I guess that was too hard for you, huh?"
You felt a knot growing in your stomach, getting tighter each time he buried his fingers inside of you.
You felt like you were melting further into him until you were nothing.
"How many things did I ask of you?"
Spencer brought his other hand to rub circles around your clit.
"Spencer," you moaned, bucking your hips up against him as much you could.
"Down," he commanded, placing a hand over your stomach and pushing you back into the mattress.
His fingers worked deftly over you, finding a brutal rhythm that felt so good it was almost painful.
You wanted him to ruin you, fix you, and ruin you all over again, forever. You wanted him to mark every part of you as his, for him to leave his name on your body so that everyone could see.
More than anything, you wished that you could pull him closer to you. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his hair, to wrap your arms around him for support, anything, please, you just wanted him closer.
Futilely, you tried to move your arms but were met with resistance from the nylon, scolding yourself for ever having told him to pull them tighter.
"Answer me," he growled, pumping a third finger into you. You thought you were going to break as he stretched you without hesitation.
He drove his fingers into you, his relentless assault gaining speed. "How many things did I ask of you?" he repeated.
"One thing," you whispered, out of breath in just two words.
"That's right, one thing, and you failed," he spat, bringing his other hand up to grasp your breast.
"Were you disobeying me on purpose?"
Spencer found your nipple, rolling it gently between his fingers.
"No," you yelped, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"How many other guys did you talk to? Two, three, four?" he mumbled, looking down between your legs to admire his work.
"No one else, just you," you yelped, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
Spencer chuckled mockingly, "I don't believe you." With every single thrust you could feel his fingers reaching parts of you they hadn't before, and all you wanted was more.
"But you know what? It's not going to matter, because I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," Spencer declared, hand slipping down to your core to stroke your slit.
"You're going to wish I never even touched you. From now on, you won't be able to be with anyone else without thinking of me and just how beautiful you sounded while I held your life in my hands... and in my mouth."
In an instant that his fingers were gone; he had taken you into his mouth. If his fingers felt like heaven, then how could you explain how good his tongue felt?
"So sweet," he hummed against your center.
He never let his tongue off you, darting it in and out without ever pausing to take a breath. You could feel him smiling against you, motivated to move harder and faster by how desperate you were to finish.
He flattened his tongue against you and licked a long stripe up your core, suckling your clit when he finally reached it.
When you managed to open your eyes and look down at him, the picture you saw was obscene.
His eyes were closed, and his face was that of a man lost in concentration, lost in you. His tongue made fast, sloppy circles around you.
He was doing everything he could to further you along, nursing you closer and closer to your peak.
Spencer squeezed your thighs so hard you were sure his nails would leave a mark, nuzzling his head even further into you to collect the arousal that had formed around your inner lips.
"Please," you whimpered, tasting blood in your mouth from how hard you'd been biting your lip.
He let go of your clit with a 'pop' and took over again with his fingers, rubbing fast paced circles around you with enough pressure to keep you teetering on the verge of an orgasm.
"I know you're close," he said, eyeing you up for signs that you were about to let go.
"Do you want to come? Is that it? You want to come so hard you forget your own name?" he taunted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.
"Green, yes," you were able to choke out, pulling against the restraints once more in hopes that they'd somehow come undone.
The feeling building between your thighs was growing; you knew you weren't going to last much longer. The urge to shut your legs from the stimulation was overwhelming, but each time you tried to close them, your thighs only seemed to move farther apart.
"Spencer, please," you begged him, feeling the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter every passing moment.
"Hmm, you should've thought about that when you decided not to listen to me," he reminded, pressing down hard against your clit.
You whimpered, sensing where this was going.
Seconds away from euphoria he growled,
"Like I said, you need to learn your lesson. Maybe next time you'll think twice before crossing me."
"No!" you shouted, but it was too late; he had already taken his fingers away.
Staring daggers at you with a hunger in his eyes that you'd never seen in him before, he said with utmost calmness, "Disobedient girls don't get to come."
Your body went slack as you cried out from the lack of contact. Whimpers: they were all you could manage to let out as you begged for some release, any form of release.
Your legs were shaking, the buzzing sensation still hot between your thighs from the orgasm you'd been denied.
You wanted to rub your thighs together or create some sort of friction to help the aching in your core, but you were still tied to the bed.
It was as if your entire body had gone into overdrive and shut down. You were too exhausted to speak, move, or even to breathe properly.
"I'm going to untie you now," was the first thing he said after the whole ordeal in a drastically different tone of voice than he'd used minutes before.
He sounded sweet and nurturing.
Your wrists and ankles tingled as he undid the restraints, letting them slowly drop by your side.
Hopping onto the bed he was able to wrap an arm around you, reaching under the mattress to help pull you upright. He rubbed up and down your back gently, looking at you with a concerned expression.
"How do you feel?" Everything, you wanted to answer, but weren't sure he'd understand what you meant.
"I feel different, but I don't know if it's a good or bad different," you professed.
"You might start to feel a little melancholy or depressed even," Spencer told you. "Don't be worried if you do, that's normal after something like this."
You looked up at him in confusion.
"The technical term is 'sub drop', which refers to the emotional state of a submissive after a scene. You release a lot endorphins and chemicals doing what we did, and now that those chemicals have been drained, it's not uncommon for you to experience a natural drop in your mental state temporarily."
"Oh," was all you could manage.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I liked it," you admitted, "Most of it, maybe not the end," you laughed. Spencer smiled, reaching a hand up to stroke your cheek.
"Me too."
"But you didn't, you know..." you implied, looking down at the bulge that had become apparent in his pants.
"I may not have finished in the traditional sense, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy myself. Seeing you like that just now was otherworldly," he admitted, causing your cheeks to flush red again.
You didn't know if you were supposed to thank him for the compliment.
"What time is it?" you asked, changing the subject.
Spencer looked down at his watch.
"12:15am."
"I should be going," you remarked, attempting to get up but being hit with a wave of dizziness the second your feet touched the floor.
"Easy, easy," he repeated, helping you sit back down. Spencer frowned.
"Listen, do you maybe want to stay the night?" he proposed, a concerned expression on his face as he grazed a hand over the top of your head and through your hair.
"No, I don't want to impose or anything," you declined, shaking your head.
"You wouldn't be imposing, and it's not like I can drive you back to your place because you drove here yourself. Stay, for me."
You turned to face him, searching for a clue on his face that would giveaway whether he was being genuine or simply offering out of courtesy. Spencer must've realized as you watched his expression change to neutral before your eyes.
Although you couldn't decipher his intentions, you decided to let it go for the time being. The whole experience had left you mentally and physically drained, so you decided to listen to the only other thing you could rely on, your heart.
"I'll stay," you whispered. "I'll stay."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
that was my first time writing smut.
pls go easy on me. i'm still very receptive to constructive criticism though.
not sure how long it took for me to write this... i was never satisfied with how it turned out. i'm still not but hopefully you guys won't hate it lol.
thank you once again for all the support.
pls keep commenting and voting if you're enjoying the story!