Spencer Reid Smut

Beg (Dom Spencer)

*Second person POV

Warnings: Cursing, Dom!Spencer, PostPrison!Spencer, bondage, unprotected penetrative sex, con/non con, safe word mention (not used, just mentioned), mention of overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, indication of sub-drop? (then after care).

Word count: 3.0k

If this opening scene was in a movie, the opening lines of Me & Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse would be playing.

Nobody stands

In between me and my man

Me and Mr. Jones

(Me and Mr. Jones)

What kind of fuckery is this?

---

Prison had changed Spencer. Obviously. Your once timid, tightly wound, germaphobe genius was now eerily patient, quicker to react, and able to eat in group settings with less hesitation. He was also more dominant with you in and out of the bedroom- just more assertive in general. Even his coworkers at the BAU mentioned his demeanor had changed when working on cases.

You had assumed it was due to him not feeling in control for those months he was property of the prison, and needing to exert his control in other aspects once he could eat and sleep on his own schedule.

Before Spencer had gone away, your sex life was great- he was always sweet and attentive but rough when he needed to be. It was a mirror of his personality.

Though you'd never know the extent of what happened in those concrete walls- and you'd never actually say this to Spencer- you weren't terribly upset about the changes that resulted in the man who came out on the other end.

This man was more primally need-driven, more calloused and hungry than the Spencer you knew before. His words became fewer while his actions spoke volumes. He devoured you like you were his last meal on earth every time his hands were on you, like he was afraid this time might be the last time you two would be together.

His hands were more strong and confident with his touches, his mouth and movements more sure. Gone were the hesitant questions asked by fingers skimmed lightly over skin, and here to stay were imprints left from sure grips, unafraid to show signs of possession.

His hunger and drive, these new deeper and darker urges had also allowed you to come out of your sex-shell. You weren't afraid to ask for things that you feared my have intimidated Spencer before. There wasn't anything you couldn't ask for and nothing he wouldn't do to you, for you. Did it make sense to trust him more now that he'd gone to prison?

You knew his newfound desires could be a sense of shame for him, but you wouldn't let them be. If anything, you wanted him to be the one he explored them with more than anything.

You rose to the challenge and arrived on the other side victorious- usually in a sweaty heap of bliss.

******

Murder in your eyes, you watched him cross the room to fasten your wrist in the restraint dangling from the bedpost.

Once he was satisfied you wouldn't be able to move from your slightly spread eagle position, he rounded the corner back to the foot of the bed, leaning forward to place his palms on the soft duvet, just staring.

"Comfortable?" he asked nonchalantly, like he was asking about the fucking weather.

You tried to lunge forward, but the restraints at your wrists quickly snapped you back, reminding you of what a not great idea that was. The fabric stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag caught most of the profanities you spat at him and turned them into nonsense.