Fic: Eyes I Dare Not Meet In Dreams; Criminal Minds; Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan
Title: Eyes I Dare Not Meet In Dreams
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Poooorn. Reid's giving Jay a run for his money. ~<3
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 1,000ish. Shoooooort.
Author's Notes: I wanted Reid porn. I thought I would share.
Eyes I Dare Not Meet In Dreams
Masturbation had always been something of a chore for Spencer. A 'lay back and think of Mr. Spock' sort of thing. Just something to get out of the way, so he could focus on something other than his erection.
He never played, he never teased himself. Spencer was always efficient, focused on the sensations that would bring him promptly to orgasm, rather than any sort pretty pictures in his head.
He had never seen the point to any of that. Teasing, pornography, any sort of foreplay seemed superfluous when the only item in the equation one had to consider was oneself.
That, however, was before The Dream.
Spencer couldn't pin point an exact moment when the sexual attraction he felt to Morgan slipped from his subconscious to his dream scape. It was so gradual and subtle, that it wasn't even remotely traumatic or even perplexing.
Spencer had dismissed the dreams as meaningless indications that he wished for the closeness he used to have with Morgan to return to their relationship. As another stunning example of not being able to see the forest for all the trees, He hadn't really considered that the dreams really did indicate deep sexual attraction.
Until that night Spencer woke up gasping and hard and shivering with a want he couldn't quite put a name to. His skin was so sensitive that it almost burned and even the light material of summer sleeping clothes chaffed in ways he couldn't bare.
He kicked off his clothes as he pushed down the sheets, trying hard to catch his breath. He lay naked on his top sheet, shivering and gasping as images and sensations from that dream flashed vividly in his mind. His memory was too good to forget, to ever forget the way it sounded and felt and looked like.
With a helpless, broken off gasp, Spencer wrapped his hand around his erection and tried to--
But it was too long.
His fingers were too long and too thin, and it startled him. Morgan's hands, the hands that had been on him, deep with in that dream, the hands that had coaxed and teased and fulfilled were smaller, thicker, harder and--
And better.
Just better, because Spencer couldn't squeeze as hard. His hand didn't engulf the way Morgan's had. It wasn't... It wasn't right but Spencer couldn't stop. Spencer needed it too much, his body needed it, and he settled into his rhythm, his familiar rhythm. But that wasn't right either, not this time. His mind didn't blank, and his body didn't respond in the same old familiar ways.
It was as if something had changed within him. Like something had been broken apart and fixed in ways that Spencer didn't understand anymore.
All Spencer could see, even when he opened his eyes, was Morgan's gently smirking face. All he could feel was that light teasing rhythm around his hot erection...
Spencer groaned and arched into his fist. He felt his breath stuttering in his lungs, and wished that those liquid brown eyes that he could feel watching every shift of his long, clumsy limbs would fade into the back ground so Spencer could...
So he could...
Spencer would say ejaculate, but Morgan would say come.
Mogan had said come.
Spencer could hear his voice low in his ear. He could hear the cadence the rhythm of the words. Spencer had to bite back a whimper, as his memory and his mind combined to supply his erotic imagination with just what Spencer wanted to hear.
What he needed to hear.
“Gonna make you come for me, Pretty Boy. I need see it. Do you wanna let me see?” Morgan's voice slid through Spencer's mind, low and rough with everything that spoke of sex and passion and want.
Things Spencer had never, ever known but suddenly wanted to, so very much.
He wanted that mouth, Morgan's mouth, so soft, even when it smirked. He wanted to see it move as Morgan said things to him. Spencer wanted to see it, as Morgan coaxed and begged and goaded and ordered Spencer in all the ways Spencer could ever want. Even those ways Spencer didn't have the context to understand.
Maybe especially those ways.
Because Morgan would understand and, right now, Spencer wasn't sure he would have the brain power to understand anything at all past the rub of his fist on his erection.
He could feel Morgan over him, and even though Spencer knew, cognitively, that they were the same size, Morgan loomed, large and perfect and ominous in just the right ways. Morgan's figure was the in the shadows of Spencer's darkened bedroom, his scent was in the air that wafted through the open windows and his voice...
His voice was everywhere.
Morgan was everywhere.
He was on Spencer and in Spencer, engulfing him in ways that shorted out Spencer's mind. The sensation incited Spencer to twist and writhe on top of his sheets as he tried, and strove to give his body what he needed, but Spencer didn't know how anymore.
He wasn't sure he would ever know again.
Spencer let out a keening cry and felt his hips pump, looking for a friction that his own hand didn't seem able to supply. He felt delirious, feverish from lack of oxygen and lack of contact.
“Easy, Pretty Boy,” the voice in his ear coaxed smooth as silk and thick as honey. “Just take it easy.”
Suddenly, Spencer could breath again. His hand switched it grip, almost of it's own volition, it changed rhythm and speed, and suddenly it didn't feel too big anymore.
It was dark and strong and rubbed the head of Spencer erection with thick rough callouses that made Spencer cry out and push desperately against them, because that scratchy bit of pain made the wave of pleasure that much better.
The scent and sound and feel of Morgan all around him, petting Spencer's hair and kissing his neck as he fisted Spencer's erection and coaxed.
“I said I'd make you come for me. Don't disappoint. I need to see it. I need to see it now, Pretty Boy.”
Spencer came.
He came fast and startlingly hard, with the feel of Morgan's hands on him, and his breath ghosting in Spencer's ear. Seamen splattered across Spencer's bare belly, and he groaned low in his throat at the feel of it. His skin was still flushed and hyper sensitized from...
From everything.
Spencer lay there, alone, in the darkness of his bed room. The ghost of Derek Morgan had well and truly vanished into the night. He had left his mark however and Spencer wondered, as he ran his hand over the slick mess on his belly, what the hell he was going to do now.
Things had changed, and there was no going back.
Incidentally, due to 16 hour shifts, move in dates, fainting spells and various other 'It could only happen to Beckaboo!' sort of things you get no Poaching. I'll post a short Jaime/Tim from Dust Universe at some point this week, if that makes you feel better. Here's some porn at least! From a completely different fandom... I'm such an asshole. :DD
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid/Derek Morgan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Poooorn. Reid's giving Jay a run for his money. ~<3
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 1,000ish. Shoooooort.
Author's Notes: I wanted Reid porn. I thought I would share.
Eyes I Dare Not Meet In Dreams
Masturbation had always been something of a chore for Spencer. A 'lay back and think of Mr. Spock' sort of thing. Just something to get out of the way, so he could focus on something other than his erection.
He never played, he never teased himself. Spencer was always efficient, focused on the sensations that would bring him promptly to orgasm, rather than any sort pretty pictures in his head.
He had never seen the point to any of that. Teasing, pornography, any sort of foreplay seemed superfluous when the only item in the equation one had to consider was oneself.
That, however, was before The Dream.
Spencer couldn't pin point an exact moment when the sexual attraction he felt to Morgan slipped from his subconscious to his dream scape. It was so gradual and subtle, that it wasn't even remotely traumatic or even perplexing.
Spencer had dismissed the dreams as meaningless indications that he wished for the closeness he used to have with Morgan to return to their relationship. As another stunning example of not being able to see the forest for all the trees, He hadn't really considered that the dreams really did indicate deep sexual attraction.
Until that night Spencer woke up gasping and hard and shivering with a want he couldn't quite put a name to. His skin was so sensitive that it almost burned and even the light material of summer sleeping clothes chaffed in ways he couldn't bare.
He kicked off his clothes as he pushed down the sheets, trying hard to catch his breath. He lay naked on his top sheet, shivering and gasping as images and sensations from that dream flashed vividly in his mind. His memory was too good to forget, to ever forget the way it sounded and felt and looked like.
With a helpless, broken off gasp, Spencer wrapped his hand around his erection and tried to--
But it was too long.
His fingers were too long and too thin, and it startled him. Morgan's hands, the hands that had been on him, deep with in that dream, the hands that had coaxed and teased and fulfilled were smaller, thicker, harder and--
And better.
Just better, because Spencer couldn't squeeze as hard. His hand didn't engulf the way Morgan's had. It wasn't... It wasn't right but Spencer couldn't stop. Spencer needed it too much, his body needed it, and he settled into his rhythm, his familiar rhythm. But that wasn't right either, not this time. His mind didn't blank, and his body didn't respond in the same old familiar ways.
It was as if something had changed within him. Like something had been broken apart and fixed in ways that Spencer didn't understand anymore.
All Spencer could see, even when he opened his eyes, was Morgan's gently smirking face. All he could feel was that light teasing rhythm around his hot erection...
Spencer groaned and arched into his fist. He felt his breath stuttering in his lungs, and wished that those liquid brown eyes that he could feel watching every shift of his long, clumsy limbs would fade into the back ground so Spencer could...
So he could...
Spencer would say ejaculate, but Morgan would say come.
Mogan had said come.
Spencer could hear his voice low in his ear. He could hear the cadence the rhythm of the words. Spencer had to bite back a whimper, as his memory and his mind combined to supply his erotic imagination with just what Spencer wanted to hear.
What he needed to hear.
“Gonna make you come for me, Pretty Boy. I need see it. Do you wanna let me see?” Morgan's voice slid through Spencer's mind, low and rough with everything that spoke of sex and passion and want.
Things Spencer had never, ever known but suddenly wanted to, so very much.
He wanted that mouth, Morgan's mouth, so soft, even when it smirked. He wanted to see it move as Morgan said things to him. Spencer wanted to see it, as Morgan coaxed and begged and goaded and ordered Spencer in all the ways Spencer could ever want. Even those ways Spencer didn't have the context to understand.
Maybe especially those ways.
Because Morgan would understand and, right now, Spencer wasn't sure he would have the brain power to understand anything at all past the rub of his fist on his erection.
He could feel Morgan over him, and even though Spencer knew, cognitively, that they were the same size, Morgan loomed, large and perfect and ominous in just the right ways. Morgan's figure was the in the shadows of Spencer's darkened bedroom, his scent was in the air that wafted through the open windows and his voice...
His voice was everywhere.
Morgan was everywhere.
He was on Spencer and in Spencer, engulfing him in ways that shorted out Spencer's mind. The sensation incited Spencer to twist and writhe on top of his sheets as he tried, and strove to give his body what he needed, but Spencer didn't know how anymore.
He wasn't sure he would ever know again.
Spencer let out a keening cry and felt his hips pump, looking for a friction that his own hand didn't seem able to supply. He felt delirious, feverish from lack of oxygen and lack of contact.
“Easy, Pretty Boy,” the voice in his ear coaxed smooth as silk and thick as honey. “Just take it easy.”
Suddenly, Spencer could breath again. His hand switched it grip, almost of it's own volition, it changed rhythm and speed, and suddenly it didn't feel too big anymore.
It was dark and strong and rubbed the head of Spencer erection with thick rough callouses that made Spencer cry out and push desperately against them, because that scratchy bit of pain made the wave of pleasure that much better.
The scent and sound and feel of Morgan all around him, petting Spencer's hair and kissing his neck as he fisted Spencer's erection and coaxed.
“I said I'd make you come for me. Don't disappoint. I need to see it. I need to see it now, Pretty Boy.”
Spencer came.
He came fast and startlingly hard, with the feel of Morgan's hands on him, and his breath ghosting in Spencer's ear. Seamen splattered across Spencer's bare belly, and he groaned low in his throat at the feel of it. His skin was still flushed and hyper sensitized from...
From everything.
Spencer lay there, alone, in the darkness of his bed room. The ghost of Derek Morgan had well and truly vanished into the night. He had left his mark however and Spencer wondered, as he ran his hand over the slick mess on his belly, what the hell he was going to do now.
Things had changed, and there was no going back.
Incidentally, due to 16 hour shifts, move in dates, fainting spells and various other 'It could only happen to Beckaboo!' sort of things you get no Poaching. I'll post a short Jaime/Tim from Dust Universe at some point this week, if that makes you feel better. Here's some porn at least! From a completely different fandom... I'm such an asshole. :DD