#kinktober 23

[reiderwriter]

Little Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader

Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.

Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.

A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️

Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 

The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 

Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 

And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 

You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 

"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 

Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 

It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 

"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 

The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 

"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 

"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 

"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 

"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 

"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 

"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 

It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 

A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 

"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 

"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 

"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 

"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 

"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 

"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  

Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 

"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 

"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 

"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 

"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 

"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 

"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 

The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 

"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 

But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 

"Nowhere." 

The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 

"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 

"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 

Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.

The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 

The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 

You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 

He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 

After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 

Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 

"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 

"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 

"Okay, so she's not interested."

"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 

"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 

"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 

"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 

" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."

"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 

Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 

The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 

Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 

You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 

"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 

"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 

You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 

"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 

"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."

He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 

"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 

You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 

You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 

With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 

You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 

The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 

He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 

"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 

He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 

"I'm okay." 

"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 

You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 

"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 

"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 

"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 

"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 

"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 

"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 

You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 

"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 

"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 

Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 

"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 

"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 

"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 

"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 

"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 

"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 

"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 

"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 

"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 

His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 

You'd never felt like this before. 

He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 

"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 

"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."

Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 

"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 

"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 

"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 

His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 

His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 

Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 

"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 

"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 

"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 

You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 

He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 

He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 

He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 

"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 

When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 

"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 

He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 

"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 

He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 

You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 

"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 

"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 

"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 

"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 

"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 

You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 

"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 

"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 

"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 

"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 

"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 

You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 

He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 

"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 

"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."

"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 

"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 

"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 

Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 

It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 

"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 

"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 

You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 

"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 

"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 

His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 

He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 

Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 

He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 

"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 

You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 

You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 

Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 

Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 

"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 

You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 

"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 

"Y/N, what's wrong?" 

"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 

You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 

"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 

"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 

"No, not until you tell me why you left." 

"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 

He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 

"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 

Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 

"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 

Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"

"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 

You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 

"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  

[lostalioth]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭

→ premise: it was a bad idea, wayne came home and could hear you and eddie and yet the two of you didn’t wanna stop, it felt far too good to want it to end.

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, almost getting caught, mutual masturbation, gagging/covering mouth, praise, small amount of oral [m receiving], nicknames [sweet girl, baby]

→ a/n: 02 kinktober

Eddie's hand presses against your mouth covering it suddenly. You look at him with wide and confused eyes as your own fingers still their movement between your legs. He holds a finger up to his own mouth with his other hand as a way of telling you to shush. “Heyy, Eds you home??” You hear the front door to the trailer swing open and Wayne's voice echo from down the hall. Your body froze, he wasn't supposed to come home yet.

You and Eddie were frozen still, laid out on his bed your thighs spread, his legs also spread and laid over your calves facing you, both on full display for one another. Your fingers were still buried deep inside you, you twitch and clench around them aching for your movement earlier to continue. You were getting close but the interruption made your body tense now. Eddie's hand moves from in front of his mouth and wraps around his cock again, pulling your attention right back to it. His tip red and angry, veins protruding and begging for your mouth.

“Uhh yeah im home, i was just about to take a nap though” Eddie's voice answering his uncle breaks you from your trance. His voice being far too calm and collected for what his previous actions were, it slightly impresses you. You make a small noise in surprise and confusion, it being very muffled by Eddie's hand but he gets the message and mouths a quick “I'm sorry sweet girl” at you while Wayne responds.

“Oh nice think i'll rest too, work was rough” Wayne yells once again before heading off down the opposite hall, you were grateful for the odd layout of the trailer. Eddie waits until he hears his uncle's door shut before he begins stroking his throbbing cock again, his release right on the edge once again. “Oh fuck, good girl staying quiet so we dont get caught” Eddie groans softly, eyes glued to your face a slightly embrassed but still lustful look in your eyes. Your eyes lit up at the praise and Eddie doesn't miss a beat. “Oh you like that? Huh baby? Be my good girl and keep playing with that pussy for me okay?” Your fingers slowly pump inside yourself once again after the embarrassment washes away. “Eddie..” you moan against his hand a bit too loud making him shove his ring clad fingers in your mouth gagging you lightly. The metal cold against your lips and the action only furthering your arousal that's staining his sheets below you.

“Keep being quiet for me and you can cum got it baby?” Eddie's voice is laced in desperation. You can tell it's both a plea for you to be mute but also for you to cum. He needed to see you cum, he was so pent up and on the edge already but wanted to cum to the sight of your release dripping down your own fingers. You nod your head frantically and pump your fingers inside your aching pussy faster, chasing your much needed climax. Eddie flashes that damned charming smile of his at you and matches your pace with his own strokes. “Such a good girl for me, i was gonna fuck ya’ but dont think we can keep quiet enough during that i know i couldnt” he chuckles softly and slowly thrusts up into his hand, his eyes glazing over as he watches your skillful fingers pleasure yourself.

You whine around his fingers at the idea and buck your hips up in need as you start thinking about how good his cock would fill you up, the patch of curly black hair that rests at the base of of it brushing against your cilt…god you needed him to ruin you and cursed your luck that he couldn't this go around.

Your own thoughts guide you closer and closer to the edge. Eddie can see the way you frantically pump your fingers faster and bring your free hand down to your clit telling him you're close. “Aww you gonna cum sweet girl, do it” he eggs you on his voice needy and teasing. “Cum on those pretty fingers imagining it's my cock while you gag on my fingers baby” he fists his cock harder, his brain going fuzzy as he waits quite impatiently for you to finish and push him over the edge.

“Mhm~ Eddie!~” you let out a muffled wanton moan around his now spit covered fingers, your back arching off the bed. Your head falls back as your release washes over you. Your slick and cum coating your fingers and thighs as you squeeze them together at the overwhelming sensation.

“There you go baby, good girl fuckk..” he lets out a sound that's a mix between a groan and a whine as his thrusts into his large hand become sloopy and speed up. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, wet from your spit and uses that hand instead to stroke his cock.

“Sweet girl im gonna cum fuck, you want me to make a mess of my self or you wanna help me out and take it down your throat like a good girl?” Eddie's voice comes out husky and strangled as he does his best to hold back while waiting on an answer. However, you're quick to move up to your knees, your cum soaked fingers leaving your cunt making you whine. leaning your head down and swating his hand away to slide him in your mouth, your tongue tracing a vein on the underside of his shaft and sucking.

Eddie's head falls back quickly before it snaps back up to take in the view of you taking all of him in your mouth.

“What ever did I do to get such a sweet and good girl like you’s mouth on my dick shit~” he let out a string of mumbled curses as he bucked his hips up into your mouth.

He rests his hand on the top of your head as the knot in the pit of his stomach tightens and quickly unravels. He cums with a loud groan of your name leaving his lips, cum coating your throat and sliding down as you swallow every last drop. You take your mouth off him making a small pop sound when it slips out and Eddie lays there breathless. “Maybe I should’ve also gagged myself to be quiet huh?” He lets out a short and nervous chuckle between pants.

→ a/n: i keep ending up writing and posting these much later than i wanna like its techically the 4th for me as i post this but i meant to post it on the 3rd cause of how im doing kinktober and UGH

[myfictionaldreams]

Kinktober Masterlist 2023 😈

Hello lovely readers, Welcome to my Kinktober 2023! I will be posting every day throughout the spooky month with many different kinks so please enjoy! And also read the tags/warnings before continuing on!

main masterlists // AO3

♥ Day 1: Pegging - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 2: Roleplay - Steve Harrington ♥ Day 3: Handjob/Fingering - Joel Miller ♥ Day 4: Authority/Power Difference - Lee Bodecker ♥ Day 5: Sweat - Eddie Munson ♥ Day 6: Dry Hump - James Potter ♥ Day 7: Somnophilia - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 8: Breeding - Joel Miller ♥ Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson ♥ Day 10: Cockwarming - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 12: Orgasm Denial/Delay - Lloyd Hansen ♥ Day 13: Heartbeat - Vampire!Steddie ♥ Day 14: Uniform - Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 15: Spanking/Flogging - The Marauders ♥ Day 16: Double Penetration in one hole - Mafia!Stucky

♥ Day 17: Hate Sex - Sirius Black ♥ Day 18: Sex Pollen - Bucky Barnes ♥ Day 19: Marking - Remus Lupin ♥ Day 20: Fear Play - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 21: Hair Pulling - Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 22: Bondage - The Marauders ♥ Day 23: Deepthroating/Facesitting - Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson ♥ Day 24: Role Reversal (Dom/Sub) - Mafia!Stucky ♥ Day 25: Knives - Natasha Romanoff ♥ Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers ♥ Day 27: Gloryhole - Nick Fowler ♥ Day 28: Cockbulge - Lee Bodecker ♥ Day 29: Coercion/Blackmail - Dark!Marauders ♥ Day 30: Freeuse - Winter Soldier ♥ Day 31: Religious Play (Priest Kink) - Eddie Munson

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Loki using his Shadows on you after your behaviour at a party

TW: Slight Voeyerism, sex with shadows, hints to somnophilia.

Odin had held a grand festival. It had beautiful nymphs and goddesses from different worlds. You had dressed in a beautiful black top with a matching skirt. The shirt cut off before your navel and the skirt cut off before your thighs.

Wrapped in a beautiful glittery veil, and a golden headband. You were stunning, in Loki's eyes you shined brighter than all the stars above, glittering on the ceiling.

Grünle a jöttenhimer had asked you to dance and you agreed to one just to indulge him. Suprisingly akward was far from it. He was a gentleman through and through. With slight jokes and remarks. You enjoyed his company yes. Buqt you wished to be in the arms of a god a few yards away.

Although those yards felt like seas. You knew this wasn't one sided as you felt his gaze on you, and you only the entire time. Grünle brought you close for the last time and gave you a polite hug.

Kissing you cheek, he smiled and told you to enjoy yourself. You simply smiled and said you would.

You allowed the music and the wine to guide you, mingling with he crowd. You didn't feel his gaze anymore. You started to turn but was caught when yoy fwlt something trace your waist.

Or rather.

Someone.

"You of all people should know that i get jealous very easily, especially with people i care about," he whispered gently into your neck.

He moved you to he music and you began to dance. You didn't need to look behind you, or at the long veiny hands infront of you.

And he was jealous.

He slowly twirled you and you glimpsed his face.

He was jealous.

The dance between you was filled with tension, he held you closer at parts, his hand going higher towards your neck as though to collar you.

You smiled to yourself, if he ever wished to do that, boy would you let him. He kissed your cheek at the end of the dance. Before stealing one from you lips. It was a quick one.

You only bit your lip and curtsied and after your dance gave your hand out to another, and another, and another. Till you swore you shoes had worn out. With every dance, they would swoop in a kiss your cheek.

You could basically feel his jealousy rising with each peck. You had gone out to the adjoining balcony for air. You tried to gather your thoughts. You had teased the god of mischief. Surely some form of punishment should be on its way.

As you stood pondering what you had done. You realised you weren't alone. You felt them.

His shadows.

You felt them slip under your dress, fondling and groping you. One even slipped into your hand and took your drink. Sliding it onto the balcony table.

The slowly relieved you of you dress sliding it off your shoulders. Soon you were on your back, softly moaning at the invisible person on you. You felt everything, from your breasts to your nethers.

It's not like you've never been touched there before, it's just that you've never been touched by his shadows.

The moved in sync guiding you to your orgasm, one went over your mouth to stop anyone from getting to hear you.

Loki was the type to either fuck you infront of everyone, or the keep your moans and pleasures to himself.

It stopped at your breasts for a minute giving it a light squeeze before heading up your face to your ear.

Over and over, these shadows were relentless. Guiding you to every orgasm. You were a sweating heaving mess. You turned to try and crawl away but they wouldn't let go.

Finally they released you. Cleaning you up aswell. Your mind was hazy and in a mess. Slowly one slid up your body again.

"The things I wish to do to you lovely, but alas my shadows will have to suffice for now, do not wait up for me love, i shall come for you, then, I shall have you, awake or not."

lo elysium.

You felt the floor open at your feet and off you went. You hoped loki would join you soon.

A/N: curtsied

Idk how to spell it and I'm too lazy for da shit

Also if y'all cannot picture the outfit, I got reference from. The Dragon King's bride on WEBTOON , CHAPTER 16

Also reader is either black or like dark skinned, am I projecting? 🤔 maybe🤷🏾‍♀️

[hwajin]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 002. — 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎 | 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: demon!minho x fem!reader

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: you shouldn't have messed with him. you knew he was dangerous, knew he could burn you, kill you — knew he was obsessed with you from the moment your eyes had met.

𝖜𝖈: 2.6k

𝖈𝖜: rough sex, temperature/ heat play?, pain play, spitting, oral (m reveiving), degradation, dumbification if you squint, unprotected sex, cumming inside, creampie

— series masterlist

You were hot. Though hot, if you were honest, was an understatement. Burning, skin scorching, a deadly fire taking ownership of your every limb, of the entirety of your body – and you enjoyed it. Were aware it was your own earning, that you shouldn’t have messed with demons if you were afraid of fire.

Minho painted your skin in varieties of red, in more ways than a singular – his touch alone meant heat, leaving warm marks of his palm against your hips and thighs, your neck and jaw. He needn’t to be rough, even – a touch meant heat, heat meant a print; he’d been touching you the entire night. His kisses were scorching, melting off your lips, burning a fire against your nape. He was everywhere, all around you – no inch of you left cold, no part of you forgotten. The skin around your nipples wet and sizzling, your clit swollen and painted angry red, your hole sensitive and flaming – you were far too gone to mind the pain, pathetic enough to enjoy it. To enjoy his kisses on your every spot, to enjoy his bites, his groping hands, his steady hips against your own, moving relentlessly, giving you more and more and then some, driving your body to your limit. He was rough and you enjoyed, he toyed with your body to his liking and you couldn’t get enough of it.

In contrast to the red was white, his pearly arousal, sticky on your skin, spread around stomach and chest, grazing your face. You had pissed him off, hadn’t believed him to be what he’d told you he was when your paths crossed, when he’d stumbled into you – demons didn’t exist, and he surely wouldn’t be thoughtless enough to admit to it if he as one. You’d been bold, daring – maybe you’d wanted to see how far his anger would go, if the roughness he used to talk to you with was merely an act, if it held desire for you beneath, after all. Maybe your impudence had been an act also, a game only to push his buttons – maybe you had believed his words, his admitting to his otherworldliness from the moment you had felt the heat radiating his proximity, had seen the red hue surrounding his very body, the area around him, the danger he carried, undeniably. You must have felt the risk, instincts telling you distance. Maybe you’d wanted to test his abstinence, his temper – wanted to see for yourself whether he longed for you the way you longed for him, despite the rationality because with him the option wasn’t in the cards, with him you didn’t want to be rational. You wanted him to destroy you, and maybe you wanted to test if he wished to as well – because he had the strength and the ability to. You’d wanted to be a dumb puppet on his strings, a mere human risking her way into danger she couldn’t comprehend. Maybe you wanted to play a game far too wicked for your own good, though you didn’t mind. Couldn’t, when his eyes had stared you down, fire beneath them, the room hotter, tension thickened. His body had screamed danger, from that moment on, danger that had told you enough for you to brace yourself – arms around the chair he was positioned in, fingers digging into the leather, legs spread apart, body leaned back; “I’ll destroy you. I could kill you.” Words spoken deeply, rasp carried in his voice, breathless – you knew you’d been right, knew he deemed it too good deny someone as dumb as you; someone jumping at danger headfirst, voluntarily, greedily – he enjoyed your enthusiasm, enjoyed your fearlessness, got off on the fact your cupidity was attributed to him entirely, to his body, his inhuman nature, himself. That you knew of the risk, knew of his otherworldliness, and yet didn’t back away.

His warning hadn’t been one of worry – he’d known you were aware of the danger, had known you couldn’t be stupid enough to think yourself in true safety, not with him. He believed you simply didn’t mind it, that you enjoyed the adrenaline, enjoyed being a prey jumping at its hunter. It’s been a warning to test, instead, if you’d be ready after all, even after he admitted to his wicked persona, his nature so very different from your own. Not playing down his abilities, brutally honest – he was no human after all, and he wouldn’t lie about the risk he carried in his body alone when it came to someone like you; and you had stood from the edge of the bed, feet bare against carpeted floor, hips grazed by short skirt swaying from side to side, had kneeled in between his legs, had looked up at him, doe eyes innocent, playing dumb, seducing – and he had let you. He had eyed you down, nose huffing out air of amusement – the very sound was degrading, as though he merely laughed at you.

“You really want this, huh, acting like a little slut? Don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

His voice sultry, his words lulling you into the trance of him. There’d been no escape at that point, though you hadn’t wished for one – your mouth had been opened, your tongue out as you watched him undo his belt and lower his pants only enough for his cock to spring free, and you had taken him without hesitation. Had wrapped your lips around his tip, hard and erect, revealing he wanted it as much as you did. His heat had surprised you, had borne slight discomfort initially – though you’d let yourself feel him against your tongue, hot and heavy, precum grazing your lips, grazing the base of your throat. Hands groping and jerking what your mouth couldn’t fit, fingers caressing balls before your lips had found their way onto them, licking and sucking kisses onto them, watching Minho react to your ministrations. Hissing in air, cursing under his breath – you had watched him through long lashes, eyes big and playing innocent, waiting for it to drive him insane. And he’d been right, held his word; he wasn’t going easy on you. Only giving you needed time to adjust to him – his length, his girth, heat you haven’t felt like this before, not from people –, only giving you a second to tease with glances and wandering hands and seductive lips; he had sped up shortly, hand by the back of your head, fisting hair, hips bucking into your opened mouth. Your jaw had hung slack, the spit you’d been unable to control nor swallow dripping in messes around his shaft, down your chin, onto your chest. It hadn’t been five minutes and it’d been obscene already, utterly filthy, wet, hot.

Sounds of all varieties had filled the room, quickly so. The occasional gag that left your abused throat, your moans and screams of pleasure, choked out only by his cock moving relentlessly inside of you, Minho’s grunts and curses of satisfaction. The sound of his skin hitting against your own, balls against your chin and pubis against your face, the slick of your mouth he fucked into, the creaking of the armchair he’d been sat in, spent and seemingly daring to break. He’d been hovering above you like a predator above his prey, and the resemblance had been uncanny – his eyes dark on your own, your eyes big, as though asking for forgiveness you didn’t deserve; you’d gotten yourself into the situation, and there was no way out of it, not anymore. Though you didn’t wish for it.

The sound of your fingers working on your cunt messy, sloppy and wet, frantic, desperate fingers circling against your clit, sinking hopelessly into your hole – Minho had started fucking into you harder, letting out a sound of mocked amusement; “What, can’t wait any longer for my cock inside your dirty fucking pussy? Wasn’t this what you fucking wanted though, huh? Me using my cock on you like you’re my fucking personal toy, no? My fucking ragdoll, yeah? Fuck.” And you had nodded, stinging tears in your eyes and you had cum, barely touched, pathetically. Minho had followed suit quickly, hand in your hair, hips stuttering as his release spurted in white against your throat, against your face after he had pulled out, jerking off remaining orgasm, chest heaving, thighs trembling. It’d been an ego boost – a demon, a creature so far from human and you had made him a panting mess. You had milked him off his release, had tugged until no semen had been left, until the entirety of it had found home on your body – you had locked eyes with him and played with his orgasm on your body, had scooped up bits on your face to lick it off your finger, had spread it all around your chest, your tops’ cleavage so deep it had left little to imagination – and Minho had grown hard again.

By now you were laying in the nude before him. He had pulled you to your feet and picked you up to throw you onto the bed – it wasn’t that you weighed nothing, but his strength was no comparing to mortal men you normally encountered. Minho hadn’t bothered undoing every button on your shirt, to zip open your skirt, to slide off even your shoes – your blouse had been ripped in half, your bra only absentmindedly pulled down to reveal mounds, hardened nipples. Your skirt had suffered the same treatment as your blouse, your panties following – Minho had only kept on your shoes, not wasting time on the anklet of he heel; they wouldn’t get in the way of him fucking you into the mattress, after all. The thought of having to go home after this encounter with none of your clothes intact had only shortly crossed your mind – the way Minho looked at you, his kiss on your neck right after, sucking skin and groping bare hips taking off any other thought except the one of him off your mind. You urged for his touch, for the feeling of him; everything else seemed null in comparison.

You lay in the nude, proof of his hunger for you served on a silver platter – your chest covered in his semen, your face and thighs grazed with sticky residue. The heat of it, as so much about him, had surprised you. You were sure your gums were burned when he’d released into your throat the first time, convinced that your skin would suffer scars when his orgasm had spurted against your face. You’d gotten used to it, though, had gotten to enjoy his warmth against your every nerve.

Minho had teased you. Had fucked himself into your fist, into the plush of your thighs, had jerked off right above your dripping centre. He let you watch, let you touch yourself, let himself be oh so close yet never possibly enough – you had started begging, crying his name in desperation; for him, his cock inside your cunt. And then he had mocked you, humiliating though you basked in it – and then you’d felt his tip against your slit, teasing, finally pushing in, stretching you out on his girth, bottoming out. You were wet enough for him to move with ease, no resistance whatsoever – you were ready for him, greedy, thirsted for his body.

He was thrusting inside you, hips hard and deep, heat radiating in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t feel as much his body as you did his temperature – warming you up from within, setting your body on fire. His hands painted you red, fingertips digging into your flesh, marking you for eternity. His eyes never lost yours – with every of your whimper, of your face contorting into purified pleasure he scoffed, mocking.

“Feels that good, huh? Humans can’t make you feel the way I do, yeah?; Fuckk- already a fucking slut for my cock and I’ve been only doing this for ten minutes.”

With every of his vulgar sentence, with every malice-filled word you grew needier, your hips bucking into Minho’s, meeting him halfway; it earned you another fit of comments, until he held you down against the mattress, heavy hands on sweaty waist, until you were unable to move entirely and he pistoled into you without remorse. You lost count of the number of orgasms, pussy sore, urging further. You were a writhing mess beneath him, having received wanted reward yet somehow wanting more, greater.

He would never admit to it, though he was wrapped around your finger. Quite unsure of how you’d managed to lure him in, but watching your mouth hang slack, your eyes shut close enough to see stars, your knuckles drawing white in result of clinging onto the pillow beneath your head, hair a dishevelled mess; it made him weak. Not many things which managed that and yet you did, for a reason unknown to him.

Though you weren’t mess enough yet.

“Fuck, open that mouth, c’mon.”

One leg of yours was hooked under Minho’s arm, your eyes on him having doubled in size at his words. Yet you complied without second guessing, without as much hesitation – you were slave to every of his command, to every of his wish. Your mouth opened, your tongue hanging out – if to tease or out of tiredness Minho wasn’t sure, it was a sight to see though, nevertheless. He collected pooling spit behind his own lips, cock nestled within you, deep enough in given position to be bruising cervix – you enjoyed the pain. Thick saliva dripping past his kiss-bitten lips, making its slow way onto yours, onto your tongue, sliding back into the depths of your soring throat. His spit as fiery as the rest of his body, burning against the insides of your mouth, scorching away flesh and flaming down your throat. Letting him see you swallowed his every drop, opening up and showing tongue again – Minho took the opportunity and hooked a thumb into your jaw, keeping you opened for him, tongue hanging lose, moans and whimpers leaving your throat unfiltered entirely. He smirked down on you, body hovering above yours, caging you into his own, radiating choking heat – he enjoyed it, more so than you did, you’d argue. His eyes glistening reddish, dangerous, lust written all over his visage. He enjoyed your weakness, your body so very inferior to his own – he enjoyed seeing you writhe in painful pleasure, loved he was the reason for your babbling and squirming.

“Such a good- fucking- girl. Such a- slut for me.”

Thrusts in between every word, his hand yet against your cheek, thumb inching further into your mouth. You whined out, sound ripping through the small of the room, music to Minho’s ears. His hips moved faster than they did before – the telltale signs of orgasm filled his every vein and he chased it, quickening pace and quickening further, making you gag on his digits, making you suck off his fingers, coating your walls in his thick release at the sight, you following suit messily at his cum inside of you, suddenly. Hot, temperature just on the verge of being uncomfortable. You were shaking against him, thighs nothing but trembling, muscles spasming. His orgasm dripped out of you as his body disconnected, making further mess on your own, on the sheets beneath you – though both were hopeless cases. Burned, heat all around you; and you’d do it any time again, if he only asked. And maybe, though hesitant to admit, Minho would make his way onto earth more often, if only to get a hold of you.

@reianagarcia @mixtape-racha @bbyboychanyeol @jenshinee @artisticbirb @fire-08 @lxverss @unlikelysublimekryptonite @aiko0invalid @laughatdanger @salfetkablog @saintriots @boi-bi-ahaha @summer3sworld @bangchans-angel @jenos-eye-smiles @alnex05 @imwithurmother @yangjeonginswifee @hydroyaksha @starlit-rin @channiesgoodgirl @lizzetmv @poody1608 @fandems @stanskzsstuff @cypher-girlx @kayleigh-28 @jetblackbelle @agnes-king @seoseoya @lipstickandloveletters @viviixlyy @es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @felixinameadowandthesuniswarm @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @hanjisungsgirl

@having-an-internal-crisis-rn

[stevenose]

𝖌𝖔𝖙 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 (18+)

kinktober: cowboy!steve edition

summary: the local handsome, womanizing cowboy is really starting to get on your nerves.

contains: reader with a vagina; reader is called “good girl”; business owner reader whaddup!; historical fiction; degradation; boot riding; praise; dirty talk; enemies to ???; extremely brief mention of a gun in a holster

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this is not historically accurate so do not go into it thinking it will be <3 i was inspired by that scene in raiders when marion and indy meet again in her bar lol. hope you enjoy!

The tattered rag in your hand squeaks against the whiskey glass in your other. You pay close attention to it, the rest of the tavern empty. It’s nearly midnight, all of your customers gone, the only company a few lit and dripping candlesticks. 

Well, until he walks in. 

You know who it is based on the click of the boots and the fact that the door had been locked. He stands behind you, leaning against the bar. 

“I told you to get rid of that key,” you huff. “That’s stolen property.”

“Y’always like to call me an outlaw, don’t ya?”

You sit your glass down and throw the rag over your shoulder as you turn to face him. Steve Harrington, wearing his typical leather vest and a white linen button down, parted at the top to give you a look at his chest. Your eyes catch on his freckles before making your way up to his face. His coffee eyes are amused, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“We’re closed,” you say, turning away from him, mostly to hide your face. He gets you worked up in every way he could. 

“Did that ever stop me before?”

You roll your eyes and grab another glass to dry. He clears his throat to get your attention. 

“I’ll take whiskey, darlin’,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Try another bar, Harrington,” you scoff. “You know my hours.”

“Woulda been here earlier, but I lost track of time.”

“You lose another herd of cattle again?”

“No.” You hear him light a match, the warm smell of smoke followed by rich, vanilla-infused tobacco. You have no idea how he can afford such cigars. “I didn’t work today.”

“Hm.” You sit a glass down. “At least one of us gets breaks.”

Steve sighs, puts his cigar out quickly on the bottom of his boot, and moves around the bar to join you behind it. He takes a glass from your hand and grabs whiskey with another. You feel a little faint when his skin touches yours.

“Hey!” you protest, watching him pop the lid off of a top-shelf bottle. “Don’t dirty a glass, jackass!”

He sort of rolls his shoulders, towering over you, and sits the glass down. Still, he keeps the whiskey in his hand - and before you can say anything, he drinks straight from it. 

“Bastard!” you scold, shoving him, all while he laughs and downs as much as he possibly can. You fight him, reaching for it, but he keeps you at bay with one strong arm. “That - is - expensive - shit - Harrington!”

“Oh, really?” he giggles, boyish. He takes one final swig before slamming it on the cedar bar. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Think I prefer the cheap kind.”

You shove him again, and again, furious with him. “Now I’ve gotta open a whole ‘nother bottle!”

“You think I’m sick or somethin’?” He doesn’t seem much bothered by your pushing. 

“Obviously,” you hiss. “Sick in the head for thinking you can come into my bar after hours without a penny to pay with just to chastise me.”

“I don’t think it spreads,” he smiles, reaching for your hands as you go to push him back towards the door. He takes your small wrists in his big hands - they wrap around them fully and he keeps you in place. 

Your demeanor quickly changes, from furious to frozen. Chastise you, he does, especially when he gets like this. So close to you, his hands caressing you, then pulling back a second later like he didn’t mean it. Steve Harrington was a cowboy and a ladies man, everything you thought you detested. But you loved these midnight visits, even if he was annoying. You liked his company. 

He seems to notice your change and bites back a broader smile. He pulls you towards him, walking backwards towards a broad leather chair. You begin to protest as he sits down, pulling you on top of him, your legs spreading around his thick thighs. His gun, locked away in his holster, is cold against your thigh. 

“Harrington,” you warn, twisting, trying to get out of his grip. 

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching up to cup your cheek. You melt immediately. “Just wanna ask you somethin’, alright?”

You swallow hard. “What, cowboy?”

“Why don’t ya like me?”

You laugh, turning your chin out of his grip. He seems a little hurt, tilting his head as he watches you. 

“You’re everythin’ I hate,” you answer. “Dirty, foul mouthed, always out in the fields. You try to fuck anythin’ that moves. You’re presumptuous and pompous -“

“Me?” he asks, genuinely startled. “I’m pompous?”

“Of course you are. Y’think you’re better than everyone, and that’s why you can come in here and grab my whiskey without askin’.”

“I did ask first. Not my fault you’re such a stone-cold church bell.”

You gasp, but he continues before you can protest. 

“Don’t know why you wanna act all tough. Y’know I’d know what tough is, don’t ya? I-“

“Oh, of course, you’re so brave out there on your horse -“

“See? Y’never let me finish. Hardly ever even give me a chance.”

“I don’t care to!”

Steve narrows his eyes. “You sure about that?” 

“Positive.”

He stares at you a while longer before letting his hands creep towards your hips. “Well,” he says slowly. “I opine that you just like playin’ with me. And bottom fact is I’m gettin’ a little tired of it, darlin’.”

Your eyes widen a little, face heating. “I’m well over bein’ tired of you comin’ in and botherin’ me.”

“So you really don’t like me?”

“No.”

“Take off those trousers for me, then.”

You reel back. “Pardon me?”

“You don’t like me? Prove it, then.”

“I - I - h- how could you even assume -“

“You’ve been grindin’ on my lap this entire goddamn time,” he points out. “But if you’re so sure y’ain’t affected, go ‘head. Show me.”

You lick your lips. You know if you don’t that he’ll always assume you were. And he might even spread the rumor. And if you do, it’ll just confirm his suspicions. Because you’re soaked. Completely. No debate. 

“Go on,” he coaxes. “Y’can go behind the bar if you need some privacy.”

Glaring, you hop off of his lap, looking down quick to see if you left a mark. You didn’t, but it’s very clear he’s hard. 

“And you’re worried about me?” you snark, nodding towards his crotch. 

“Never said I didn’t like you,” he says, adjusting in his seat as you stand breathless. “You gonna make me wait?”

You force yourself to move after a second, feet heavy as you walk behind the bar. He stays in place, watching you, arms crossed over his broad chest. You bite your tongue and pull your trousers off first, then take your cotton underwear in your hands. As you already knew, they’re wet. You stare, contemplating spilling some ale on them. 

“Bring me that whiskey while you’re at it.”

You roll your eyes and ball your underwear into your fists as you pull your pants back on. You grab a glass and the cheap whiskey and return to him, making him catch the glasses as you throw them at him. 

“And your panties?”

You throw them at him as hard as you can. Steve takes them immediately and grins wide as he inspects them. A low whistle leaves his soft, parted lips. “Yup,” he says, the fabric looking small in his big hands. “Knew it.”

“It was hot today,” you protest. “I’ve been here forever, they - they need changed -“

A shot of lightning hits down through your core as you watch him bring your underwear up to his nose and inhale. Deep. He savors it, eyes drifting shut for a long moment before they open again, and he grins. 

“I know a needy cunt when I smell one.”

Now you’re standing in place, heart beating fast in your chest. Your hands clench and unclench in uncertainty. You grind your teeth and stare at him with heated cheeks and chest. 

“So everythin’ you say you hate, you like,” he starts. He shifts, tucking your underwear in his back pocket. You don’t argue. “You like big, strong men who come in and take what they want from you. Cause it’s so hard, runnin’ this place by yourself, no one t’take care of ya. Spendin’ your nights alone. You want someone else to call the shots, huh?”

You swallow hard. 

“That it? You need a man with authority?”

“You don’t have authority,” you force out. 

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes a little. He’s handsome in the warm glow of the candles, catching on the sun-kissed highlights in his brunette hair. “You’re no different than the livestock I train. You just need a firm hand and a gentle tone, huh? I know I can break you in time. Just gotta get you to yield first.” He suddenly moves his foot forward and taps it against the hardwood floor. “Come sit on my boot.”

The air is knocked out of your lungs. “What?”

“There’s one difference,” he observes softly. “Animals are a lot better at obeyin’ than you.”

You detest the accusation, the way he’s speaking to you, and yet your cunt aches with need. You want to rub your little clit against his boot and make him talk sweet to you. You remain still, a stare-off with him. 

“I’m not very patient,” he says, tapping his shoe. “But I’m tryin’ to be for you.”

You set a glare as you step towards him, legs shaking. 

“There ya go,” he coos as you move to your knees, “could get used to this.”

“Don’t,” you snap. 

“You think y’wont get addicted to this?” he asks. “I know I already am. Seein’ you on your knees before me - you get me hard, dear. Bet you’re good at grindin’ those hips - you done that before, right? Who’s that wealthy shop owner’s son? John?”

You glare up at him as you settle over his boot. “Don’t talk about John.”

“Isn’t me,” he says, holding his hands up. “You know everyone in town was talkin’ when you were together. Think you like people in different classes than you, huh? Did he talk sweet to you?”

You’re overwhelmed and hot. It makes you dizzy. The steel toe of his boot against your scratchy trousers doesn’t help. You nod, unable to speak much, brows furrowed in opposition. 

“Too sweet?” he presses. “That why you’re on my boot right now? Y’like gettin’ talked down to? I can do that, but I’m a romantic, if you’d believe it. Like to cuddle after, make a real connection. You gonna be good and grind?”

Setting your jaw and bearing down, you begin pressing your hips into his shoe. The cool, hard pressure makes you gasp, and Steve smiles wide above you. You hold onto his leg for support, fingertips bruising him. 

“There we go,” he praises, taking his glass and whiskey and pouring it. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You don’t answer, but your whimpers answer for you. You bite your lip and whine softly, circling your hips. Steve whistles low again and takes a sip of the caramel colored alcohol above you. “Jesus, I could get used t’this. Shuttin’ you up on my boot. You be good and I’ll reward you, honey. Want a sugar cube?”

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

“Aw, alright,” he beams. “Sugar don’t work on you, shoulda known. How ‘bout my cock? That a good enough reward?”

Despite your best attempts, a moan forces itself past your lips. You’ve dreamed of him, ever since he first busted into your bar and begged for a drink after a long day of herding. His large figure on top of you, crushing you, while his cock rams you in spots you didn’t know existed. You wish you could see more of it now - but you’re only face to face with his clothed election. 

“Huh.” He takes a drink. “Didn’t think you’d like that. You’re just full of surprises, huh? That’s somethin’ I like ‘bout you.”

You hate that his words make your cheeks catch fire. 

Steve angles his foot upwards, making the boot raise and press deliciously against your clit. You cry out, head falling back, and Steve chokes out a sigh. “God Almighty, look at you. All this from fuckin’ my boot. Could you have imagined?”

You shake your head, though you aren’t paying much attention to him. Your body shakes as you move yourself against him. Every push and pull makes you weaker, a tightness starting in your lower stomach and reaching down for your clit. You rest your head against his knee and miss him taking his cigar back out of his vest’s pocket. You smell the march and tobacco again. It smells like him. That rich scent, followed by the sweet smell of hay and maple sugar, envelopes him wherever he goes. You wish your thin bedsheets smelled like it. 

“C’mere,” he urges, reaching for your hair and tilting your head up. “Open up.”

He bounces his foot again, and your mouth drops. 

“Breathe,” he instructs, before leaning down and blowing smoke right into your mouth. You inhale, but the smoke is too much - it forces you to cough and stutter. Steve leans back and smiles, taking another drag and blowing it down towards you. “‘nother thing t’train you to take, huh?”

Overwhelmed with pleasure and the sudden urge to be better than him, or at least good for him, you nod. 

“I’ll make a list,” he sighs. He’s lazy, leaning back and watching you. He sets his glass on the oak table beside him and presses his palm against his cock. “Y’know, I really pride myself on breakin’ things in. I’ve handled some of the most aggressive mares in the state. Even when they kick and punch, even when they resist … I always make ‘em mine.”

Your teeth bite into his knee, your movements speeding up. You cry out, eyes rolling back, the tightness growing. 

“You wanna be mine?” he asks, leaning forward again. “That it? Wanna be yours. Want you to pay attention t’me. I’d do whatever y’asked. Wanna be your big, strong man. Will you let me?”

A shuddering breath. “Steve,” you whimper. It’s the first time you’ve called him that. 

“Good girl, that’s my name.” He pats your head. “Wanna be Steve’s girl? Huh?”

You betray your conscience and listen to your subconscious. “Mhm. Ah! Y-yes!”

“Then cum. C’mon, know y’can, want it. Polish my shoe, darlin’.”

You press your head hard into his knee and dig your fingers into his flesh. Deep breaths, along with your movements, make your body rise and fall. Steve bounces his shoe a little, angling it up, and with a sharp inhale and shout you cum. The room feels like it’s upside down. You’re dizzy, overwhelmed, parched as the white-hot feeling spreads from your pussy to the rest of you. It leaves you weak, and you’re about to fall back before Steve catches you, two hands on your biceps. 

“Hey, hey,” he coos, pulling you back up into his lap. Your forehead rests against his. “‘s alright, Steve’s got you. There we go. Did so good for me, peach. Y’look so pretty for me.”

“I’m. Not. A. Horse,” you pant. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles, hands moving to cup your ass. “Give me a kiss, won’t you?”

You pull away from him to press your lips as hard as you can against his. He gasps, a hand flying up to the back of your neck. You kiss him hard, a little messy, finishing it off with a harsh bite to his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Goddamn,” he mumbles, reaching up to touch his bottom lip. “Y’need some more trainin’, I see.”

“Well,” you pant with a half hearted shrug. “Guess you’re gonna be busy.”

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 2: GOD FORM Nika! Luffy x F! Reader

Requested by: @jessysapphireblue ➡ Kinktober! Prompt 2 wirh our luffy🥰🥰 Luffy with a female magician reader. Perhaps in a nice secluded Environment and we know curious luffy is and how He would love to test it out with her as she is an absolute sweetheart and laughing with him but she is always so kind and gentle with him even during everything. Pls? I love your writing 🥰💙🩵 tw: mdni. Luffy turns to Nika with his G5. oral. food play. luffy takes you to the clouds, literally. vag. size kink. pretty sweet and romantic. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Moonshine, kissing your skins with soft silver light. Every time you look up in the sky, and the moon is on full display, you remember Wano kuni.

“Luffy… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your Nika form” you mumble, with a curious hidden intention floating around in your mind. Not only Luffy is handsome in his normal form, but, the white curls and red eyes have been in the back of your mind since you caught a glimpse of it in between tears of joy for his reborn.

“Nhh? You wanna fight, (Name)?” he jokes, laughing like he only knows how to. That laughter that alters the rhythm of your heart; that makes it beat to the sound of happy drums.

You stand up immediately, looking at him, ignoring he was joking about fighting.

“I don’t wanna fight, I wanna… uh… you know…” you stutter, is not that you aren’t close to Luffy enough to ask him to have intimacy, but this sounded differently. However, Luffy can tell -only with you- when you want it.

“Shi. Shi. Shi… you want me to do it while in Nika form? I kinda thought of it once in the bathroom” he asks, taking the straw hat off his face, allowing his adorable cheeks to be bathed by the biggest star shining above the skies.

Your cheeks burn. He thought of it once?

Your eyes land on his sunshine ones, and nod with no further words. Yet, your expression seems enough to give Luffy the yes he needed.

As soon as it is humanly possible to think, Luffy snatches you by the waist and jumps into the beach coast. It was a calm night. The Sunny had docked in a calm island, with no villains to defeat and only to grab some food to continue the trip after Wano. Everybody had already eaten; Sanji and Zoro were doing the dishes and most of the Strawhats were sleeping inside their home, the Thousand Sunny Go.

“I need a place with a lot of moonlight” he chimes, while jumping off the railing to the slightly cold sand underneath.

“Is that a need for your powers?” you ask, curious.

Luffy doesn’t really know if it’s true or not, but he enjoys seeing your face while his body mixes with yours.

“Mmm… I don’t know…” he lies, and you can clearly tell.

Soon, you get to a secluded area right next to the beach. The waves crashing against some rocks will be the perfect companion to the drums of liberation you are sure you will hear.

“So, how should I do this… nghh…” Luffy thinks, pressing his index in the middle of his forehead. Maybe he needs to transmute or connect his energy to another being to turn into Nika?

You wait, sitting on the rock where he deposited you. Looking like a magical mermaid, Luffy suddenly understands that turning into Nika was easier while looking at the person that makes his heart go fast.

And in indeed, and all of a sudden, with his eyes fixed on yours, his heart starts to go even faster. Beating harder against his chest, turning the things that surrounded him into soft gum.

His pristine white locks flow with the sea breeze, and you could swear the moon shines brighter than before since he transformed. The waves act differently, as if they were waiting for Luffy to command them. And you can’t help but gawk at his majestically look… he does look like a God. His litmus halo, the bleached clothes, his smile, the crimson eyes…

“L-Luffy…” you mumble, in awe. It’s the first time you have him right in front of you, and so close, in such form.

He smiles, or rather, smirks. It makes your stomach drop, and your thighs to tightly close.

Luffy pounces on you, laughing. Your back doesn’t hurt when it hits the rocks behind. It’s all soft, and caring, and you feel happy but also there is a presence that feels like is crushing your lungs, making you dizzy… it is the intensity of Luffy’s Gear 5 power and will.

“You know I can imagine anything and make it happen, (Name)?” he asks, with his pointy nose pressed against yours.

You sigh, loudly. There is enough tension built inside your chest. “I… yes…?”

“If I want to, your clothes can turn into delicious chocolate… shishishi” he laughs, touching your chest. His hands play with the fabrics that cover your body and suddenly he can rip them with no effort. Luffy takes a piece into his mouth, he is even amazed at his own power… in deed, what he wanted, turned to be real; your clothes are made of chocolate now.

He begins devouring your shirt first, and then your pants and when he is ready the panties that began to soak with your needy fluids are now melting in your skin.

Luffy gloats before attacking. He does not eat desperately just yet. First, he bites one string of your panties, and then the other. The tip of his front teeth graze your hipbones, making your quiver every time he does. Your hand reaches his hair and lovingly plays with his soft, alabaster curls.

Everything feels like happiness; pleasure and lust mix with pumping hearts of full devotion and love.

His tongue finally reaches for your core, and while he rejoices in the flavour of chocolate he also does with the salty caramel taste of your core.

Luffy’s fingers search for your hand, and when both collide they interlock; the more he pleases you orally, the more you squeeze.

And he takes you to heaven, because if there is something he is the king already of, that’s oral. Your back arches, and orgasm approaches. One of many more of those he likes to drink from.

But this God does not only take you to the stars just with pleasure, but quite literally…

Easing off the buzzing sound of your heart pumping in your ears, with still aftershocks of pleasure from your climax, you feel his arms around your waist and the wind in your face.

“Luffy! What are you doing?” you ask, surrounding with your arms his neck.

“Let’s try going up to the skies!” he laughs, jumping with you in arms. What once used to be sand, looks more like an elastic bed that he uses to fly up.

You open your eyes, as wide as possible -maybe even popping out?- making him laugh louder. While you can’t help but panic to see your feet that far from the ground… but after all, this is exactly what dating Luffy feels like.

White fluffy material, that feels humid and soft, surrounds both of you. And soon you understand these are clouds.

“Here!” he chimes, pouncing into the most dense of them. Nami has taught you that clouds are nothing but water in a different form, there is no way it can hold you two.

Oh, but it does. As long as Luffy can imagine it, it can.

He helps you lay your back on it, and while your naked body feels like being engulfed by the velvety sensation of such magical bedding, Luffy gets ready to place a sweet kiss on your lips.

“You told me once that being with me feels like you are in cloud nine… but since you didn’t come with us to Skypiea, I thought this could be similar to it…” he whispers, with lips pressed on yours and the sexiest smile you ever seen on his lips.

His right hand next to your face. The left one, softly caressing your cheek. Your toes pulling down his white pants, with your eyes fixed on the darkening of his sight. There is something taking over Luffy, it is perhaps lust. Or maybe something else, you can’t describe so simply.

Hardness you already recognize, playfully grazing your entrance, getting ready to slide deep inside of you.

“Can I try something else?” he asks, before entering completely into you.

“Whatever you do, I want it” you purr, with a soft smile and your index softly caressing his cheekbone scar.

His lips slowly part as he lets himself get surrounded by your clenching inner walls. A growl, manly and not often heard, escapes his lips. A moan coming from yours, mixes with his pants.

You suddenly feel like your insides going bigger, something growing deep inside you. It goes gently, hitting every corner and spot of pleasure in your body.

“Lu- Luffy… what is it?” you ask, confused but still almost unable to think straight because of how good it feels.

“You like it? It is.. ngh… me… bigger me…” he grunts, letting himself crush you with the weight of his body. The pressure around his growing member feels heavenly and he can’t even play cool no more.

His lips land on your neck, while his hips move in and out. Faster every time. Harder, deeper… bigger…

Sloppy lids frame your eyes that fix into the immensity of a sky full of stars. They shine closer to you than ever; they aren’t above, but around you this time.

Your arms hug him tightly, your heels carve on the small of Luffy’s back, your nails scratch his shoulder blades… and your hearts synchronize to the beating drums of liberation, up and above the skies 💖 ~

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @trouble-sistar 💖

[oncasette]

𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗕𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗦 (𝗦𝗢 𝗗𝗢 𝗜)

KINKTOBER ACT II, eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 2.7k

“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in.

or the one where eric has a specific taste for blood. yours.

warnings: not beta’d, smut, significant age gap (eric is like 1000, r is early 20s), dub-con, mind control on the low, blood drinking, high sex (eric's blood/v), smoking

masterlist | taglist | kinktober

When vampires had first come out of the coffin, you’d been barely above the age of seventeen, and their integration into the mainstream had been a whirlwind you’d been utterly unprepared for. Being from the south, your parents had instilled a deep sense of distrust in your fanged counterparts. Or, in your own words, fear. 

Your parents had nearly tried to keep you out of college because of it, claiming you’d be much safer here at home, but you’d nipped that in the bud fairly quickly. Still, that didn’t mean you were going to let it slip to them where you were going on your evenings spent at home over the summer. All they needed to know is that you’d be home in the morning. 

Your friends had been begging you to go to this bar across town with them for ages. They’d been going for years, but, being the only one in the group not willing to get a fake ID, you’d been left out of all the fun. Now, though, that you were over the legal drinking age, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to check it out seeing as your friends seemed to like it so much. Or, as you came to find out, seeing as they apparently liked the owner so much. 

“You’re gonna freak when you see him,” Rachel says, looking over at you from the driver’s seat. You’d been friends with Rachel for forever, longer than you can remember. She’d gone off to school somewhere in the northeast–a liberal arts college with less than two thousand total students–and it’d been ages since you’d last seen her. 

“I don’t get what’s so special about him?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rachel squeaks. “About Eric fucking Northman?”

Anyone who’d been west of Baton Rouge knew the name Eric Northman. It was undeniable. Someone could whisper the name in a corner of a packed ballroom, and a hush would fall over the crowd. 

And, yet, somehow, despite living in Shreveport since your conception, it hadn’t crossed your path. 

“Yeah?” you drawl. “He’s probably just some guy.”

“Some guy,” Gina scoffs. 

“He’s quite literally the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” she says as she fiddles with her engagement ring. “He’s a fucking god.”

“Sure,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

It isn’t much longer before you’re pulling into a shady parking lot behind a vacant liquor store. There’s a couple other cars in the lot, mostly what your father would call shit-boxes that have either been sewn together with duct tape or have bumpers that have been left to drag the ground. Slamming the passenger door shut, you reach into the pocket of your jacket to take out the pack of cigarettes, stamping one on your bottom lip as you dig further in the pocket to find your lighter.

Your friends have already walked across the lot to step into line when you finally get a light, shoving your materials back into your jacket as you jog over to where they are at the back of the, thankfully, fast-moving line. 

“Really?” Rachel asks. 

“Just be glad I didn’t do it in the car, okay.” You offer a squint of your eyes in a pseudo smile. 

“Whatever,” she sighs. 

The bouncer lets the three men in biker jackets ahead of you in and stops to examine you. She seems to recognize your friends and nods at them to follow the men, only to stick a manicured hand out in front of your chest as soon as you take a step. 

“I’m with them,” you huff, tapping the ashes out of your cigarette. 

“Sorry, sweetie. I’m gonna need to see some ID,” she drawls. The sweetie comes out in a sharp bite that has you taking a step away from her outstretched arm. She grabs the butt from between your lips and stamps it out beneath her stiletto’d heel.

“Fine,” you say. Digging in the other pocket of your jacket, you grab your wallet and hand over your driver's license. You’re thankful you’d just recently gotten your ID updated and have the horizontal one now, or you’re sure she would’ve kept you back. Where, you’re also sure, your friends would have left you to sit for the rest of the night. 

“Have a good night,” she says, handing it back to you and allowing you to step into the crimson bar. As soon as you’re through the door, you dig your pack out and light a new cigarette. Bitch. 

Your eyes gravitate toward the stage. A very large throne sits to the side of it, flanked by two overgrown men with their eyes scanning the small dance floor at the foot of the stage. The man in the throne is bigger. Much bigger. Large to the point that he dwarfs the chair you think would swallow you whole. You watch as he sits up, spine straightening as he looks the crowd over. 

You don’t think anything of it until his gaze falls on you. He seems to smile, and it’s then that you see the sharp canines extending out of his gums. 

You suppose coming to a vampire bar should’ve made you mentally prepare to come into contact with a vampire or two. 

The man on the throne appears before you in an instant, fangs retracted as he gives you a softer smile than he’d had previously. It unnerves you, still, with the way his eyes seem glazed over and his body hovers over yours. You glance back at the stage, eyes flickering nervously back and forth as if it’d just been a trick of the lights and you’d catch him lounging there again if you blinked hard enough. 

“You are… a pretty thing, aren’t you,” he says, voice growling in a register lower than you’d been expecting. It sends a shiver down your spine. He’s tall. Frighteningly, inhumanly tall in a way that has you cowering beneath him. Even seeing him on the stage before, it’s much more shocking up close. “It’s a shame you feel the need to taint it with that.”

He gestures to the stick between your lips with a flippant gesture, plucking it from your mouth to stamp it beneath his boot. What’s with everyone stealing your cigarettes tonight?

“Hey-”

“Still,” he leans down until his nose is inches away from your jaw and inhales. You don’t have the time to push him back before he’s returned to his full height. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you ask, attempting to take a step back only to bump into one of the bustling–and fairly sweaty–bodies behind you. The man raises his brow in surprise. 

“My, my,” he says. “Coming all the way out to my little bar and you treat me this way?”

“Eric,” you exhale. Your friends were right. He’s beautiful. 

“And you are?” You give him your name in a huff. 

“Follow me,” he says.

“I don’t know-” His fingers come up beneath your chin to tilt your face so that you’re like him in the eye. Something swirls within them, something you can’t place. You do your best to ignore the dull throb emanating beneath your dress. 

“Follow me.”

Your legs seem to move of their own accord, hand reaching up to take his as he leads you across the dingy floor towards a door beside the bar. You dodge bodies crumpled together between tables and chairs and slink behind him as he nods at a bouncer guarding the door. Once it’s open, he gestures for you to enter first. 

It’s a small office looking room. Various pictures and files line the walls and every surface is drowned in boxes and other small objects. You don’t have the time to get a good look at any of them, though, before Eric is spinning you to face him once again. 

You can see the way his lips twitch as you meet his gaze, nostrils flared. His hand lands on your shoulder, dragging down the side of your arm as goosebumps sprout in its wake. You want to blame it on the fact that he’s freezing, on the fact that he’s got fangs. On the fact that he owns this whole bar and now you’re standing in his office with the door locked. Not on the fact that he’s probably got decades of experience. Or, god forbid, centuries. 

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask. It comes out in a whisper, voice hoarse from swallowing hard. Breath hitching, your knees do their best not to buckle as Eric steps into you, forcing you back until your ass hits the edge of his desk. His leg comes to press between your thighs. With a nudge, his knee would be pressing directly against you, and you’re thankful he gives you the space. You inch up the desk until you’re halfway sitting on it. There’s no reason for you to be as hot as you are right now, and less of a reason for him to know about it so soon. Honestly, he can probably smell it on you. 

“Why do you think I brought you back here?” he asks, hands falling against your thighs. There’s no pressure, just their presence. 

“I don’t fuck random guys in bars,” you say. 

He stalls, hands crawling up to rest on your hips. 

“I’m the owner.”

“So I was right,” you say. “You lured me back here just to fuck me.”

He hums. You can’t tell if it's in agreement. His knee presses into you fully and you hope he chooses not to comment on how you’re pulsating against it. 

“Would you like that?” he asks. He brings his hands down again, this time to the hem of your dress. He begins to push up. Slowly. Oh, so slow, you barely register it until it’s bunched up at the tops of your thighs. You’re not sure why you nod. You think if asked you at a different time, a second before or after, you would have shaken your head and allowed him to lead you back out to the patrons, to your two friends who would lose their minds if they knew where you were right now. 

His mouth finds yours as he pushes your dress the rest of the way up. You can feel the way you’re leaving a damp spot against his pants and try not to whimper as he applies more pressure with his knee. You don’t succeed in that venture. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It’s not nearly as rough as you had expected it to be, but it’s far from soft. His tongue is in your mouth, licking at the flats of your teeth. His fingers dig into your skin as he thumbs at the seam of your panties, pressing it to the side enough to gather the wetness coating your slit and drag it up to your clit. Your hips jump against him. 

He disconnects your lips to trail his kisses down the dies of your face and down your neck. Pulling back, he draws your eyes up to look, and the dark swirl from earlier returns. “Don’t scream,” he says. “Unless it’s my name.”

Before he re-attaches himself to your neck, you watch as his fangs click out, and you feel the cold rod of fear as it slides down your spine. 

“You smell fucking amazing,” he groans and his teeth drag against your pulse point. Before you can make any sort of comment on that, you feel his teeth puncture into your skin just as two of his fingers sink into your cunt. His incredibly long and devastatingly thick fingers that are already stretching you out as they slowly thrust in. 

“Eric,” you squeal. You’re already dizzy, his tongue laving at the skin of your neck. Finally, he pulls back and you feel seconds away from passing out. His fingers are still inside of you, massaging your walls. His free hand comes up to his mouth, and you watch as his fangs pierce the skin there and he’s holding his bloody palm up to your mouth. 

“Drink,” he says. You oblige and suddenly you’re dizzy in an entirely different way. Every touch feels heightened, every item in the room seems to glow, and Eric truly, honestly, looks like a fucking god. The open wound on your neck stops aching and you swear you feel the holes close up. 

“Eric, please,” you whine. He tugs your panties down first, balling them up in his fist and tossing them somewhere behind his desk. Then his belt comes undone and he’s yanking his pants down just enough to pull his cock out of the confines. And if you thought his fingers were big before. 

“That’s not gonna fucking fit,” you gasp. He jerks himself until he’s fully hard. 

“Trust me, sweetheart. It will,” he says as he notches himself against your entrance. 

“No, I swear, you’re gonna rip me in half!” “Trying hard not to do that, already,” he says. He pushes in with one solid thrust. Even only halfway in, you can feel him in your throat. “Feel even better than you taste.”

Your ankles link around his back and your feet dig into his ass in an attempt to get him to move, to push into you until you can feel his pelvis against yours. He does. One thrust, then an agonizing pull back before he slams back in. 

Every part of you trembles as his pace picks up. 

“Oh my god? Oh my god,” you squeak. 

“Just me,” he quips and his head falls back. He’s fucking you at a superhuman speed, hips snapping into yours with so much force you think he’s close to bruising your cervix. And still. It feels good. It feels so fucking good. Every touch leaves you tingling and you think you’re going to explode with his hand finding your clit again. He pushes your legs open wider, allowing him to press into you further. 

You’ve never been this wet in your life. Not with your vibrator, not with any of your boyfriends, not even with the one you swore you were in love with when you were a sophomore in college. The squelch of his cock driving into you rings in your ears and you don’t think you’ll ever forget the sound. A coil within you begins to wind tight, your body on the precipice of turning into jelly in Eric’s hold. 

“I want you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he growls and it’s enough to send you flying. You clench around him, walls fluttering and throbbing as you feel his dick twitch in you. 

As soon as you’ve regained your consciousness enough to offer him a weak smile, he’s pulling out of you and spinning you around so that the front of your hips are against the desk. He thrusts into you swiftly once more, never once faltering from the ruinous pace he’d started up previously. Your back arches into the desk. Your pussy feels raw, overstimulated, melting into the pleasure he’s driving into you. Another orgasm is sure to follow. And quickly. 

“You are mine, whether you agree to it or not,” he growls. His thrusts begin to grow sloppy, cock twitching with every pump of his hips. With a final push in, he cums and offers you the first bit of warmth he’s been able to give you all night. You fall down the same rabbit hole moments later. Your entire body twitches as you do and you can barely feel anything as he pulls out of you. 

He gives you a minute to catch your breath, to gather yourself and spin around to face him as you tug your dress back down your thighs. You’re panting, still, as he wipes the semi-dried blood off of your neck and brings it up to his lips to lick clean. 

“No more cigarettes,” he says. “I can’t wait to see how you taste when you’re… pure.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that,” you say. 

“You will.”

He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He’s gone before you can ask what he means by that. 

[erinfern0]

lips of an angel.

könig x gn!reader

— gender-neutral anatomy, gender-neutral nicknames, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: könig can't resist when you take care of him, especially when you're on your knees, making such a mess. the mess he loves so obsessively.

warnings: pure porn not much plot, dry humping, oral fixation, handjob and blowjob, drool and spitting, messy finger sucking, some german vocabulary.

Please, reblog my work if you like it!!

You were on top of him, soft hands playing with the rim of his tight shirt. König smiles while he kisses you, large palms gently moving your hips against his. You begin to whimper against him, reaching down to fiddle with his belt as your other hand slowly strokes his chest. The atmosphere in the room heating up for the both of you to enjoy your evening.

His hips jolt when he hears the sound of clanking metal. His breath hitched, so he pulled away just to look into your hazed eyes, filled with lust to the brim. The way you gasped against him made his eyes wander, especially over your pretty lips. His eyelids shuddered, trying to keep focused as you grab him over his boxers, the material harshly dragging over his cock.

"Open for me, Schatz." he whispered, thumb rubbing your lower lip just to cover it up with your saliva. As you listened to his order, he smiled proudly before slipping his thumb right into your mouth, gently pushing over your tongue. The feeling of wetness coating him made him even harder against your hand.

You squirmed, lazily moving your head, staring at his flushed face o close to yours, sucking on his digit. You were not even aware when, but you started to just squeeze him, making white pearls of precum stain his underwear, but he didn't complain. The pressure always reminded him of your tight little hole, clenching around him.

The room was quickly filled with lewd sounds of his index and middle fingers sliding over your pink muscle, wet and sticky spit drooling down your chin every time you gagged on the size of them. The thumb of his other hand slowly smeared the substance off your face. Your eyes were closed shut to enjoy the symphony of his groans and the sounds of you bobbing your head.

You were imagining them to be the head of his swollen cock as it was being stroked by your hand. You weren't even sure when, but König pulled it out of his boxers, making you drag your fist over his red tip. Your hips were rapidly snapping over his thigh, trying to chase your own pleasure.

He chuckled deeply, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shoulder as he removed his fingers from your mouth, looking down at the mess you two created. He was proud of himself for making you such a desperate disaster, just for him.

You moved his hand away from your chin and mindlessly smiled as you leaned forward, trying to calm your breath down while spitting over his probably overstimulated cock. He nodded with affirmation as he watched you work him up like that, enjoying how you took care of his tired body and mind.

König's free hand started to grip your thigh, his own thighs tensing every time you dragged your fist down his shaft, pushing the foreskin as far as you could, making his mind dizzy. He threw his head back on the couch, mumbling sweet praises under his breath.

"Close, fuck, I'm so close." he gasped, choking on his own words as you spit again, the sound itself getting him closer to the edge. Before he can even process what exactly is going on, you get up from his lap and slowly lower yourself onto the floor. He couldn't help but throw you a pillow to kneel on.

"Thank you, König. " The way you say his name runs wild in his mind as he reaches down to place his calloused palm over your head. You slowly envelop his tip, looking up at him to make sure you're doing everything alright, just to see him stare at you in awe, fighting not to close his eyes from all the pleasure you give him.

As you try to push your head lower on him, his eyes roll to the back of his head, the blue irises you loved so much disappearing for you. Your hands slowly travel over his thighs, spreading them wider for you to crawl a little closer to your lover. Then, you slowly push them up his body, tracing his happy trail. He unknowingly moves his free hand to interlock your fingers together, the other resisting the urge to push your head down on his length.

He relaxes above you, and his breathing becomes shallow as he feels the pressure build up in his lower stomach. He warned you by whispering your name, his eyes back onto you. You started to rock your hips in the air, your free hand started to stroke his base, tongue and lips focusing on his tip. The slightly salty taste of his precum aroused you even more, if that was even possible.

"Weiter... Ich komme gleich." he muttered, fingers trying to grip your hair as gently as possible as he arched his back, loving the way you slightly pushed onto his abs. You always loved how he switched to German as soon as he got a little lost in pleasure, but now, when he was almost begging you to keep going, made your thighs tremble.

You did exactly as he wanted, kept bobbing your head over him, greedily sucking on his tip and jerking him off against your mouth, soft whimpers causing vibrations that sent pleasure down his balls. You could feel them tighten against your hand as you sped up.

Then, you felt his hot cum splash all over your throat, sneakily dripping down the corners of your lips as you kept moving, helping him to go through with it. His grunts dropped an octave, turning into groans as you kept going. König opened his eyes slowly, a salve of curses slipping from his lips at the view of all the mess. His cum dripping down your chin as you swallowed most of it, leaving his cock with a loud, sloppy pop.

You finally closed your mouth, staring up at him as you clenched your jaw, enjoying the soreness as if you just had the workout of your life. He chuckled at the sight and slowly wiped your lips with his thumb, collecting all of his seed and pushing it back into your mouth. You kissed it after cleaning it, a lazy smile appearing on your lips as you giggled. You rested your cheek on his inner thigh, pushing his cock against his abs and teasing it with a smile.

"You'll be the death of me one day, Liebling." he smiled as he said it, playing with your hair as he admired your cumdrunk state.

masterlist | request info | kinktober 23

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

(Yes I didn’t give up!)

Kinktober day 26 Malleus Cockring:two d!cks,

-

“They feel tight…are they too small?” Malleus huffed, not sure why you wanted him to put the rings on his cocks. They weren’t so tight that he felt uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Do they hurt?” You ask him carefully but he shakes his head and you smile. “Good, alright, I’m going to touch you now, ok?” He nods and you quickly stroke his cocks in tandem.

Malleus groans, rolling his hips to match your touch. He purrs and leans back, watching you with a pleased smile, his tongue starting to poke out of his mouth. “Oh, that’s amazing…don’t stop, please…”

You smiled as he moaned blissfully. You knew he couldn’t last long but you didn’t tell him what the rings would do.

Malleus whimpered as he hit his peak, but didn’t climax, he’s left on the very edge, but can’t climax. He hissed as you stimulate him but he can’t cum.

“W-wait…somethings wrong…” He hissed out. “I-I can’t…finish…” He groans out, you gently hush him and twist one of the rings, making him jolt.

“Yes, these little rings stop you from doing so.” You say calmly and go back to lazily stroking him. “You can take it right? Just for a night?”

Malleus looks surprised and shifts with an embarrassed look. “O-oh…I-I…was not expecting this…”

You whisper into his ear. “It’ll feel even better.” You kiss his cheek with a soft smile ahd you can see his eyes widen as he melts into your touch with a soft smile.

-

Tagging; @anxious-chick, @lost-in-time-wanderer

[anystalker707]

Can you feel it?

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x [gn, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Size kink Tags: bottom luffy / belly bulge / overstimulation / size difference / fingering / cum as lube / riding / cock drunk

requested by the cmt anon

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          Yawning, you sat with your back on the pillows against the headboard. It’d been a long day, but partying so much after such a long battle paid off. Now, you were aching for a good night of sleep in that bed. It was far better than the ship’s bunks, making your mind blank out momentarily when you sank into the mattress, staring at the wall until your vision blurred.

The door opening cut through your thoughts, and you blinked a couple of times, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of Luffy walking in with a plate of food in hand and a piece of meat in his mouth as he closed the door with his foot. He mumbled something that fell incoherent through the food, putting the plate on the small desk in the room along with his hat. You narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head lightly when his eyes met yours; he practically swallowed all the food at once before he crawled on the bed and came over to you.

“(Y/n),” Luffy hummed softly, making kissy lips, but you held his shoulders before he could do anything. “Aw, what’s it?” He whined.

“Your mouth is all dirty and greasy!” You clicked your tongue and playfully kicked him away, almost chuckling at the pouty face he made. “Come on, Luffy! Wash your face and your hands, at least! They’re gross! You’re even staining the bedsheets! Take your flip-flops off! Gross Luffy! Bad Luffy!” You gently push him away with your foot. It wasn’t exactly your intention, but he ended up just sliding off the bed the way he was by the corner when you gently kicked him again. He was a slumping mess on the carpet. “Luffy!”

“(Y/n) no loves me, can’t even eat,” he whined while walking out of the bedroom again, and it was not news that he was munching on something when he came back. Still, he was quickly grinning again as he kicked his flip-flops off and threw himself on the bed, immediately crawling up to your lap again, all clean, so you wrapped your arms around his waist. “(Y/n),” he mumbled as he rubbed his cheek against yours while throwing his arms around your neck. “Mmm, I think this day will be perfect if I get one more thing…”

Luffy kissed your lips messily, practically shoving his lips on yours until you started kissing him back, groaning against his lips. The positive reaction was a cue for Luffy to start grinding his hips against you, turning the kiss messier as his breathing started growing erratic.

“Please, please,” Luffy mumbled softly but eventually fell silent, grinning victoriously instead once your lips started working on his jaw. A nice sensation spread through his body, and his cock twitched in his shorts. Soft sparkles spread through his body, though they weren’t enough—they were nothing compared to what he felt with your hands all over him, with you deep inside. He hummed, cheeks heating up as he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

“Fuck, Luff’,” you groaned against Luffy’s neck, barely able to breathe; he only loosened up when you started to kiss and nip on his neck, soon enough finding the spot that made him melt more. Your hands slipped into his vest, pressed to his skin, feeling the scars and little bumps that rose with a shiver running down his spine. He pressed himself closer, if possible, gasping at the friction on his cock again—it also made you groan as the blood rushed to your cock.

It took you a solid minute to get Luffy to let go of you so that you’d take his vest off, but the piece of clothing was soon tossed to the ground, and Luffy eventually needed to get up from your lap to remove his shorts as well. He was a little messy with it, so it gave you enough time to undress and still watch him kicking off his shorts. Rolling your eyes, you wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him to your lap; he gasped and soon settled down when his back pressed to your chest.

“There’s my baby boy,” you mumbled against his shoulder with a smile, placing your feet on the mattress and his thighs over yours so that his legs would spread open along with yours.

You looked down, observing Luffy’s flushed, already leaking cock that lined up with your own, which made the size difference even more obvious. It’s not that his cock was small, no; it was very proportional to him, but compared to yours… Well, he was smaller when compared to you, in general, and the disparity did something to both of you in situations like that. Your hands wrapped around his waist, rubbing it lightly and feeling his ribs, while soft kisses were left along his shoulder.

“We don’t have lube here, so we’ll have to improvise,” you sighed in fake disappointment.

“Wh— Mmph!” Whatever Luffy had to say gave space to a moan once your hand wrapped around his cock, hot and tight around it. The first couple of strokes were good, but once you started using the pre-cum as makeshift lube, he whined, body jerking on your lap to seek more of the touches. He couldn’t do a lot, though, not with your arm wrapped around his waist like that. He hummed, holding your forearms.

“Feels good?” You whispered into his ear, twisting your wrist through the motions. Sometimes, it’d make him grind against you, snatching a groan or a hiss, and as much as it felt so good, you tried your best to avoid it, to keep the best saved for later. “How fast can you cum, sweetheart?”

The words alone made Luffy whine, twitching in your hand as you kept the strokes going, while your free hand gently fondled his balls. He tried to take a deep breath, just to be interrupted by consecutive gasps at the way your grip grew tighter around him. Your thumb worked so well on that spot under the head of his cock, stroking it just the way Luffy liked, making his body feel all hot and his mind spin.

“There…” Luffy gasped, letting his head fall back against your shoulder. He rocked his hips into your hands messily, barely able to keep himself together, despite the fact you only gave him a simple hand job. He hissed, arching his back when your thumb pressed to his slit, rubbing it, fuuuck… His breath became more erratic as you swiped your finger across his tip, spreading the pre-cum over it before your hand was rubbing up and down his cock again, so tight, so warm, so good.

Luffy whimpered, arching his back as the knot in his lower stomach tightened. He uselessly tried to warn you: every word that escaped his lips was nothing but a stuttering mess mixed with the moans that filled the room so loudly. Your hand wrapped around him tighter, moving faster, and he was cumming. His mind went blank as he arched his back against you. That was fast and sudden, milking the cum out of Luffy, but he couldn’t have done a lot against it, given the way you’d been touching all of his sensitive spots so fine.

“There it is,” you sighed, hand tight around Luffy as you gave him a final stroke. He mumbled something in a questioning tone, something that didn’t get an answer and that probably vanished from his mind the moment he felt your fingers press to his entrance.

A groan came from Luffy at the soft touch around his entrance, circling it until your finger started to slowly push in. You were fucking using his own cum as lube, and it made Luffy’s mind grow fuzzy—at least fuzzier than it already was, with the recent orgasm. His legs still twitched with the aftershocks of the climax, reacting to every little touch of you, even the shallow thrusts of your finger into his ass.

Since it was just to lube him up, you didn’t linger a lot. Soon, there was a second finger, pushing the cum deep into his hole, making sure to coat Luffy’s warm walls nicely with it, though you had to keep an arm tight around his hips to hold him in place.

“Done,” you said with a soft sigh as your fingers left him with an obscene wet sound. “Now you can have me.” A grin tugged on your lips before you let soft kisses along Luffy’s shoulder. His chest heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath, so you gave him a little break, letting your hand run along the inside of his thigh soothingly.

A while passed, and you tapped Luffy’s thigh and reached a hand down, guiding your cock into Luffy at the same time he adjusted his hips to lower himself on it. He gasped, feeling his walls slowly adjust around your cock as it pushed in, stretching him so much better than your fingers, sending sparkles through his body with that nice burning feeling. You were so big, making his breath falter just by taking you in.

“Nnngh, (y/n),” Luffy gasped, hips twitching; you were all the way in, cock pressing against all the right spots. He felt like he was unable to even breathe without spilling a moan.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned into his ear. It made him clench around your cock. “Fuuuck,” you gasped and wrapped your arms around Luffy’s hips to keep him in place as you moved your hips lightly, sinking your heels into the mattress. He whined breathlessly, fingers sinking into your forearms. It was a slow fuck, both due to the mood and the position, but it still made Luffy into a stuttering mess. You doubted Luffy was able to chain more than two words to form a coherent thought at all.

Your cock felt so good inside him, rubbing against his gummy walls just the right way, your tip brushing a spot that made his thighs quiver every time you thrust in. Luffy felt so hot—he was hard and leaking again already, practically drooling, all because of the overstimulation, and he loved it. He loved the way you could erase every thought away from his mind, all because you could handle him so well and your cock was so big. He whined when you thrust in a little sharper.

“Ahh, you should feel this, baby,” you groaned. It was a little of a struggle to get Luffy to let go of your forearm, but you could eventually guide his hand to his own tummy. “Can you feel it?” You whispered, continuing with a deep thrust at a time, despite the way the muscles on the back of your thighs already started complaining. “Can you feel the bulge? Can you feel me inside you?”

Luffy gasped as he heard that, whimpering as he focused on the way his skin shifted under his palm in sync with the way your cock moved inside him. His eyes rolled back, his cock twitching between his legs as he felt you start moving a little faster.

You hissed into his ear, wrapping your arm tighter around his waist. “You feel so tight, so good, oh fuck, Luffy,” you gasped, keeping his hand pressed to the bulge. The pressure made him feel better, somehow, so he kept clenching around you; your cock twitched inside him. “Ahh, Luffy,” you groaned, “come on, do something.”

The pain that tugged on your muscles gave you a break when you relaxed against the bed, trying to catch your breath. Luffy didn’t react at first. He needed a few pokes and tugs until he finally sighed in defeat and sat up properly, gulping as he placed his hands on your thighs.

A moan escaped your lips when Luffy started riding you. Your eyes were glued to him, watching your cock repeatedly disappear inside his ass as he whined with practically every movement. He was messy with it, barely able to keep up with a rhythm. Hissing, you took hold of his hips to guide him lightly, at least trying to help Luffy out a little, even more so when your arousal was pooling down more in your gutter. You even pushed your hips up a little to meet his movements once or twice, helping both of you grow closer to the approaching climax.

Luffy let his head hang for a moment before it fell back when he arched his back, gasping and clenching around you, and you presumed he was cumming already, so you did your best to chase your release as well, not wanting to overstimulate him a lot. Your hands were tight around Luffy’s hips, thrusts knocking the breaths out of him, and he whimpered when feeling you cum deep inside him, making sure to rub the cum along his walls in shallow thrusts that didn’t last long.

Once your thrusts stopped, Luffy allowed himself to fall back against you, back pressed to your chest again. You were about to say something, but the words died on your tongue at the sound of soft snoring. Typical. What did you even expect?

“Right,” you sighed, gently placing Luffy beside you on the bed, hissing a little when your cock slipped out and met the cold air again, but you weren’t any better. The sleep tugged on your eyelids heavily, making you yawn again, slowly dozing off as you spooned him.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[reiderwriter]

Happily Ever After

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: You have a big fat crush on Spencer Reid. And now you have to share his clothes, his hotel room and his bed for one special night.

Warnings: Day 31 of Kinktober - The End, vanilla sex, love confessions, p in v, pretty softcore compared to the other stuff. Fluff.

A/N: We did it! It's literally halfway to December, but I finally finished all of the kinktober fics! Thank you, everyone, for coning with me on this amazing journey. Thank you for all your support for thesr 31 fics, I literally wouldn't have done it without you 💖

It was hard being hopelessly in love with your coworker. This was a fact that you'd learnt upon entering the BAU and meeting Doctor Spencer Reid. 

You'd never believed in love at first sight  and to be truthful, you were still a sceptic, but there was something about him that had you leaning in, eyes sparkling as you hung on his every word. 

If you were asked what exactly it was about him that you liked so much, you'd probably tie your tongue up trying to answer. 

Maybe it was his intelligence. Maybe it was the complete obliviousness that went along with it. 

It could have been the way he made sure to check in on you regularly, made sure you were managing the transition to the BAU well, and let you know that he'd be there to support you. 

It was probably also because of how goddamn attractive he was. You swore that he was walking around like the female lead in a 00s rom com - he just didn't know how hot he was. In fact, he was so oblivious that he still didn't reconcile the fact that ‘Pretty Boy’ was less an insulting nickname and more the cold, hard truth. 

You'd accidentally reminded him of that fact about a month into being deliriously into him. 

“Pretty Boy…? Hey, Spencer? Doctor Reid? Nothing…” Morgan sat on the edge of your desk as he called over to the man just opposite him, sitting completely still bar his hand that was racing across a page as he read furiously. 

“He's busy, Morgan. I'm sure if you just call his name Louder, he'll answer.” You sighed. Watching the two men quibble had become an interesting pastime, to say the least. 

“Spencer, the office is on fire. Spencer, Hotchner, is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Rossi is naked in his office right now. Spencer, Y/N is-” 

“Okay, that's enough,” you said, standing up from your desk and clearing your throat. You thought you'd just stand up and get Spencer’s attention the same way Derek had, projecting your voice just a little bit more.

“Pretty Boy.” As soon as the words fell from your lips, the man in question bolted upright, hitting his knee on the desk as he rose, locking eyes with you. 

“Yes, Y/N?” Almost as soon as he was upright, Morgan was in fits on the floor, partly from the reaction, partly from Spencer's self injury. When he turned back to you and noticed your red face, the laughing fit only doubled. 

Spencer joined you in perpetual embarrassment as Morgan slipped off, still laughing  but seemingly no longer interested in whatever it was he wanted Spencer for in the first place. 

“Y/N, did you need something?” He asked, clearing his throat as he sat down once again. 

“No! No, actually, Morgan… it doesn't matter.” You smiled politely and sat back down, quickly pulling some paperwork together to make yourself look busy. 

“Usually only Morgan calls me pretty boy.” He murmured from the other side of the desk  

“That's because it's the truth.” 

“What?” His eyes locked with yours as you suddenly realised he'd been talking to himself, not engaging you in further conversation. 

“I… well, I mean, he wouldn't say it if you weren't actually pretty, Spencer.” He looked at you for a second, then relaxed, smiling softly as he continued his reading. 

You could've sworn you heard a tiny thank you under his breath  but you just continued your work and tried to calm your heart rate down. 

After that, you made it your mission to out an arm's length between yourself and Spencer Reid. You were polite about it, of course, but you felt an awful lot like a teenager with a crush. Or maybe a pre-teen with a crush. Sometimes, to be honest, you were probably acting like a complete child. 

Fate, or Aaron Hotchner, had other plans for you, though. 

“If you can't make it, that's okay, but it's regulation to send two agents because of some prior interviews that have turned particularly violent.” He explained after he called you into his office. 

“JJ has Henry to take care of, same for Kate and her niece. Morgan has a trial tomorrow, so he's unavailable as well, so I really only have you and Reid to ask. Can you do it?” 

You weren't sure if it was some need to please the man in front of you as if you were his child who had scored badly on a pop quiz, or his perpetual state of exhaustion that had you giving in and nodding to the man, agreeing to five hours in a car with Spencer. But you did. 

The ride wasn't all that bad, to be honest. In typical Spencer fashion, he'd bought along a few audiobooks to listen to, so most of the time was filled with The Faerie Queene and the sleep that you'd fallen into after listening to The Faerie Queene. 

You couldn't fully escape conversation, though, and in between changing tapes, he started asking questions. 

“How are you liking the unit?" He asked casually, his eyes on the road as you turned to stare at him. 

“It's been good. The only downside is all of those field work fitness tests, though.” 

“Be glad that you had to do those before you joined us. Morgan decided to be helpful and train me and Penelope.” 

“That doesn't sound too bad,” you laughed at him as an honest frown coated his face.

“Have you seen the guy? He's like a walking weightlifting advertisement, I think he could bench press me. And it turned out that we didn't even need the training anyway.” 

“Wow, and you fell for it? I thought you were a super genius, Doctor Reid.” 

“Hey, that's discrimination. I can be very stupid, too. I contain multitudes.” You laughed and relaxed into the seat some more, memorising each detail of his face as you looked at him. There was a small awkward pause as he waited for you to say something else. Just as he made to turn and look at you, you straightened again and looked away before he could catch you. 

“I'd love to see those multitudes some day.” 

“I'd love to show you them.” 

After that, you'd sat silently in the passenger seat, staring out of the window so he couldn't see the effect his words had on you. 

You were thankful that the actual interview finished shortly, the death row inmate becoming rather chatty in his final days and gracious in the details he was willing to give out. The prison still put you on edge, though, so you were glad to have your gun back on your hip and fresh air in your lungs as you moved towards the car. 

You were just waiting for Spencer to get off the phone so you could get back on the road and into your comfy bed. 

“That was Hotch,” Spencer said, walking over. “We've got a case. We're closer than they are, so they want us to drive there and stay in the hotel for the night, and they'll see us tomorrow.” He smiled in sympathy as he watched your face fall. 

The stuttering of your heart was so loud that you almost couldn't hear his words. Surely, that didn't mean you had to spend the night with Spencer Reid? You didn't know if you'd actually survive that. 

“I-I don't have my overnight bag.” You said. 

“Hotch said JJ is picking it up. She'll pass it to you tomorrow.” 

“But it's winter, what am I going to wear tonight?” You practically whispered the words as your brain finished functioning once again. 

“I have something you can change into. Of that's okay with you, of course!” You didn't trust yourself to talk, so you just nodded at the man and climbed into the car, ready for him to take you to your home for the night. 

Fate didn't stop there, though. 

“There's been some kind of mistake,” you heard Spencer mumble as you walked up to the front desk behind him. You'd been sat on a sofa in the foyer waiting for him to return with your key and his when you realised he'd been taking too long. 

“What's the problem?” You asked as he turned around to look at you, running his hands through his hair in frustration. 

“They only booked one room.” 

“Sir, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to take up the issue with your company. But there's only one room here in your name, and we're otherwise fully booked for the night. We had two weddings and an academic gathering this weekend. Guests are still trickling in and out.” 

“Okay, what about my name? Can you see if there's anything under Y/L/N?” 

“I already tried that. They have Hotchner down, but only from tomorrow.” His jaw tensed again as he turned to you. If you knew him better, you'd probably be able to recognise his nervousness. God, how you wished you knew him better. 

“It's one night?” You nodded and took the keys from the receptionist as you and Spencer walked towards the room you'd be sharing for the evening.

“Derek says I talk in my sleep, but that claim has never been substantiated with any real evidence. Also I prefer to sleep on the bed nearest to the window, is that okay?” Spencer rambled slightly awkwardly as you approached your new hotel room. 

You smiled at him and flexed your hand slightly, trying to reach out to comfort him but holding yourself back from the casual physical contact. 

“It's okay,” you said, grabbing the key card. “Let's go in.” 

If that day had taught you anything, it was to expect something else to go wrong. 

The room was wonderful, with a large window, a competent bathroom, surprisingly spacious for the usual FBI budget. There was, of course, only one bed.

“I'll take the sofa. It's right next to the window anyway.” 

“Spencer it's not a pull-out. You're never going to get any sleep on that thing.” You stood your ground, dumping Spencer’s bag and your own small purse on the sofa so he couldn't take up permanent residence there. 

You weren't sure why you were fighting so hard to get him in the same bed as you, knowing what effect it would have on you, but you didn't care to think about that right this second. 

“Okay, let's just get ready to sleep, and we can talk about it again.” He said, digging you out an old pair of sweatpants and a caltech jumper and gesturing for you to use the bathroom first. 

You quickly showered up and changed into the warm clothes. It was strange to be able to feel how much bigger than you he was since you'd never really considered it. 

Spencer was tall, but you weren't exactly petites, and yet here you were, getting swamped by his college sweatshirt. And you knew for a fact that he'd been practically a child still when he'd last graduated. 

“All yours, Spencer,” you said, walking from the bathroom and over to the bed where you'd left your phone on charge. 

He didn't say anything, but you noticed he'd stayed stuck to the spot and sat at the opposite end of the sofa reading a book. 

“Spencer? Did you hear me?” That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, and he finally diverted his eyes away from you. 

“No pretty boy this time?” He pouted under his breath, but you laughed all the same, watching him grab similar garments from his bag again and travel to the bathroom.

You must've drifted off slightly between him going in and coming out, because when you woke, there he was again on the sofa. 

“Spencer? What are you doing? Get into bed.” You blinked your eyes a few times, rubbing away the sleep in them as you sat up. Spencer had sat up on the sofa, reading his book again, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. 

“I said I'm fine here, Y/N. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Sighing, you pushed yourself out of bed and walked around it to where Spencer was. 

“Spencer, you're like 6’4. This sofa couldn't even sleep a five year old comfortably, let alone all of you.” You slipped the book from his hand, shutting it and placing it on the side table. 

“I'm assuming you don't need a bookmark?” When he shook his head with a resigned sigh, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up. 

“Y/N, are you sure?” 

“Spencer, you already gave up your clothes for me, I'm not letting you give up the bed, too.” 

“It's okay, I enjoyed giving up the clothes.” You couldn't really help the nervous goggle that slipped from your mouth at that statement. 

“Sorry, I just meant I'd-” 

“I know what you meant, Spencer. Let's just go to sleep now.” Grabbing his hand once again, you turned the main lights off, lamps lighting your way to the bed. 

Turning Spencer around, you gently shoved him onto the bed. Though, expecting him to let go of your hand, you'd planned that only he would land there. 

Instead, he doubled down on his grasp of your hand, and you fell with him, landing directly on top of him on the bed, mouths inches from each other. 

You paused there for a few moments, not sure what move was the right one to make. His hips shifted upward slightly, but that was all the movement you needed for you to settle over his crotch rather than his legs. 

“I'm sorry,” you whispered breathlessly as you felt every inch of him harden underneath you. 

“I'm not,” he said, eyes searching your face for god knows what. 

When he found it, though, he didn't hold back. His free hand slid up to the back of your head, slamming it down so your lips could lock together, a passionate joining that rid you of all the oxygen in your body. 

“Spencer,” you gasped between kisses as he worked his hand lower, both hands free to wrap tightly around your waist as he continued kissing you with a passion. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he finally pulled away again, holding you as close as he could before capturing your lips one more time.

Your head swam through the sensations blindly, both confused and considerably fused to him at the same time.

Spencer's lips, Spencer's hands, Spencer's everything pressed up against you as you sighed contentedly at his ministrations.

“Spencer… what are we doing?” 

“I don't know. I don't want to stop, though.” His lips matched yours furiously as he pushed his sweater off your body, whining slightly when he had to break contact to get it over your head.

His hands were instantly exploring your chest, grasping your body like it was his lifeline, as your hips rocked against his own. 

You knew you needed to stop this, and soon. Your body didn't agree. If you had sex with Spencer Reid right now, you knew there was no way in hell any other man would ever match up. 

“Spencer, stop.” 

To his credit, he did, hands dropping instantly as he created space between the two of you. Or as much as you'd allow, still sitting on top of him. 

“I'm sorry, I took advantage, I shouldn't have kissed you like th-” 

“I love you.” You blurted out, so desperate for him to shut up and listen to you. Which  again, to his credit, he did. 

“What?” He whispered, stars shining in his eyes.

“I told you to stop because I love you. If you don't feel the same way, that's okay, but I don't think I can do this if you don't.”

“You love me?” 

“Yes, I just said that. Aren't you supposed to have an eidetic memory?” 

“Individuals with eidetic memories often struggle with short-term memories, hanging onto older memories more vividly and recalling them faster.”

“So you want me to say it again?” 

“Over and over, preferably.” He said with a grin, flipping you over so your back was on the bed as he hovered over you. 

“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your cheek. 

“Again.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your neck. 

“One more time,” he whispered, stroking your hair as he finally looked into your eyes. 

“I love you,” you whispered as he kissed your lips once again, holding nothing back as he poured all his joy into you. 

“I love you, too.” 

Your legs tangled together in a blur after that, both hopelessly breathing each other's oxygen. You were giggles and moans, whimpers, and confessions as you found yourself pushing down the covers and your pants so you could slide into bed. 

Neither of you stopped your confessions, still professing your love in each scrape of a nail, each lick, each bite. 

When he finally entered you, your eyes rolled back in pleasure, drunk on him and every reaction he was giving you. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he moaned. “I love how you feel wrapped around me.” His hips snapped softly into you, but he went deep, pushing in the entire way before even letting himself think of drawing himself out of that beautiful heat. 

“I love how reactive you are for me. I love seeing each of your emotions cross your face. I love how you called me pretty. I love how intelligent you are. I love you.” You were overcome with emotions as you finally felt pleasure wash over you, tingling through your body in ripples as he grunted into your ear, close as well. 

Wrapping your legs around him, you nuzzled into his neck and held him tight as he finally finished inside of you. 

You fell asleep like that in each others arms, clinging to each other for dear life. 

When you woke the next morning, it was with a start as you realised the sun was already awake. 

Spencer, however, wasn't, and you jolted up in a panic as you rolled him off of you. 

“Spencer, wake up, the others are going to be here any minute, it's 8:45.” 

“No, they're not,” he said, pulling you right back into his chest. 

“You said yesterday that they're coming today ready for the new case.”

“They started driving at 7am. Driving is going to take them 5 hours 34 minutes, give or take half an hour if there's an accident on the roads. We have plenty of time.”

You relaxed slightly into his hold, then feeling his warmth against you as he stirred slightly again. 

“Of course, we could always do something else to pass the time.” You opened one eye and turned back to face him as his hand traced down to the parting of your legs.

“Nice try, lover boy. If you're awake enough for that, you're awake enough to get started on the case.” 

“I preferred pretty boy,” he groaned but rolled away from you, as you both started getting ready for the day. 

Within half an hour, the two of you were up and ready to answer an incoming video call from Penelope Garcia. 

“Hello beautiful, how is upstate treating you?” She said as you picked up and beamed at her, somehow unable to control the happiness rolling off of you.

“It's been good,” you practically giggled, wiping a hand across your face as you attempted to clear away the grin there.

Spencer approached the laptop screen, too, greeting Penelope with a small squint as he looked down. 

“Hey, Penelope. Do you have the case details for us?” 

“I sent through the files to your emails, Hotch has a paper copy for you too, Reid, when he gets there. We've got a copycat or a resurfaced killer from the 80s. Rossi says the details are familiar to him, but he was going to ask you when he found you.” You both nodded and thanked her, but still, she didn't hang up. 

“So, one hotel room, how was that?” Penelope asked from the other side of the screen, eyes dancing between the both of you. 

“How did you…?” You squinted as Spencer hurriedly closed the laptop to the sounds of her laughing victoriously. Spencer's face flushed again as he brushed his hair out of his face, trying to discuss the files with you as he changed the topic almost expertly. 

“Stop. Spencer, how did she know about the hotel room?”

“Penelope books most of our hotel rooms.”

“Spencer, what aren't you telling me?” He shifted uncomfortably and looked at you in the eyes. 

“I may have asked her to book only one room.” 

“What? But the receptionist said-” 

“I slipped her a twenty before you came up.” 

“Why?” 

“I wanted to be closer to you. When Hotch said he had this interview, and he said he was sending you too, I was so excited to spend time with you, because you've been avoiding me, and I wanted to know what I did wrong so I could make it better, but I guess I didn't do anything wrong because you love me somehow, so I must have done something very very right to deserve that.” He was rambling, but you didn't stop him, smile spreading as you listened to his accidental declarations of love. 

“And then I had to beg Hotch to take this case next, because then we'd have an excuse to be alone longer if we were so close.” 

You tried to catch his attention then by calling his name, but he didn't listen, too intent on his confession. 

“I was going to tell you later today, once we were off work, I didn't want to say something in the middle of the case because that would've been unprofessional  and honestly I didn't want the others to hear because I want you all to myself.”

“I'm rambling, aren't I?” 

“Yes, God  just shut up and kiss me.” 

“You're not mad?” 

“I might have been if I weren't so damn in love with you. But lucky for you, I'm crazy for you.” He smiled at you again, pulling you in close for one more kiss. 

[lostalioth]

𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝

→ premise: he only intended to check on you you, he didn’t however plan on you exacting your revenge for him throwing you in the pool at that very moment. though it works out in the end to finally break the thick lingering tension between you two.

→ pairing: s1!steve harrington x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, smut | 18+, unprotected sex, shower sex, fingering, edging, semi-drunk sex, underaged drinking they are described as drinking but they are a bit drunk/tipsy, season 1 steve harrington and so tommy and carol are in it, Y/N IS USED ONCE, nicknames [baby, cutie], description of wet clothes

→ a/n: 05 kinktober

“Ahhh Steve noo please!” You squeal and heat washes over your body, your skin burns where Steve's hands are gripping your waist. His touch sends butterflies to start violently fluttering in your stomach. He lifts you up and you feel like the air is punched from your lungs at the strength and his hands all over you. You hear a chuckle eurrupt from his chest right before you’re thrown from his hands. You squeal as your body breaks the frozen barrier of water and you splash into the icey grimy pool. You hold your breath as you look up from under the water and see the stars sparkle in the night sky. Slowly you come up out of the water, pushing your body up on the side of the pool glaring in Harrington's direction. The cold water is working to sober you up a bit, however not as well as you wished it to. The alcohol still streaming through your veins from those last few swings of the bottle now making you only a tad bit tipsy. Tommy and Carol are keeled over laughing, nearly falling off the lawn chairs they were laid out on. “Before you kill me you're gonna need me for new clothes you know? Right?” Steve lightly whines and backs up looking like a deer in headlights as he backs himself up against the sliding patio door.

“Show me where the shower is in this damn mansion of a house and maybe just maybe I'll spare you” you groan and look down at your body as your clothes sag and cling awkwardly to your body, water dripping off of you and onto the patio tile below you making you feel like a wet dog. He slides the glass back door open quickly and waits on you, not daring to make a move. “You're so whipped Harrington, how can you deny that?!?” Tommy calls over at the boy whose frozen stood, making Carol burst out into laughter again. You and Steve glare in their direction as you make your way into the much warmer house.

They shut up and put up their hands in surrender and shrug as you and Steve walk into the house. He leads you up the stairs and points you towards his bathroom. You give him a grimace before you walk into the bathroom, you decide not to lock the door and even to leave it open a crack.

Steve gathers clothes of his own for you to change into as he hears shuffling in the bathroom before the water starts running. He grabs a baggy pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt of his as well as socks of his for you. He walks a few feet out of his bedroom, passing the cracked open bathroom door. The smell of his body wash wafts out the door and under his nose. You were using his body wash, and you were gonna smell all like him and be wearing his clothes. He feels his cock stir and twitch in his suddenly ill-fitting boxers at the thought, god it made his stomach turn. It would be like you were his, all his, only his. He shakes away the cloud of lust overcoming him and makes his way into the laundry room. Opening up the dryer he throws in the clothes he grabbed as well as a towel for you, setting it to run for around 10 minutes so that it all comes out warm. It might appear as though he was sucking up cause he doesn't want you to kill him for throwing you in the pool, but he does genuinely want you to be comfortable and warm. He let Carol and Tommy get the better of him and get in his head, always calling him whipped for you and saying he follows you around like a puppy. The two of you weren’t together in any capacity besides friends and it kills Steve. Cause he knows he's very obvious with his affection and infatuation and yet he's oblivious to yours. Therefore him throwing you in the pool was so they'd stop their comments about how close you two were sitting or how he was looking at you. He shouldn't have let them get to him but that was all he could think to do so they’d shut up.

Making his way back into his bedroom he stands frozen in front of the bathroom door, hand wrapped around the side where it was left open a jar. He takes a deep breath and walks in, looking down at his feet. His intentions were purely innocent and yet he couldn't fight the flush of his cheeks or the growing bulge making a small tent in his jeans as he stood there. This was his bathroom after all and so he knew his shower doors were glass and if he just looked up just an inch. He’d see your beautiful silhouette through the fogged up glass door, your hands running over your body as you rinse off the body wash. his body wash. Steve clears his throat to both catch your attention and regain his own composure enough to speak again.

“Hey uh i grabbed out some sweats and a shirt for you, even a pair of my socks, they're in the dryer with your towel so they can be toasty for ya’ i thought maybe i could take your sopping wet clothes from you to wash those” the words all practically come vomiting out of Steve's mouth in a hurry he was doing his best to make up for his adolescent action. The strain of his aching cock against his jeans persistent and annoying however.

It was killing him, knowing if he only glanced up just a bit he could see your body in all its beauty and yet he wouldn't, he couldn't. He wasn't a perv though it may seem like it sometimes, he just felt the need to check in on you, you were tipsy still and not at your own house after all.

With Steve's head bowed and his eyes apparently glued to his own feet he misses the small evil smirk that spreads on your face. “Yeah yeah that'd be great Steve thank-” you cut yourself off and let out a small fustrated string of curuses before you fake whine.

“Y/N? What happened, hey you okay?” A confused Steve stands even more frozen but he's gotten closer to the shower door and has a hand on the door handle. “Oh fuck- ughh i think i got soap in my eye. I can't tell if I rinsed it all away. Can you look at my eye for me please?” You question and fight back the smile that wants to take over your lips, forcing a squinted and pained expression instead.

Without a second thought Steve flings the shower door open, eyes now glued to your face instead of the floor and his feet. He leans forward trying to get a better look in your eye when you grab him by the collar of his shirt. Quickly before he can question you, you pull Steve into the shower with you, sliding closed the door so no water escapes.

The warm water suddenly spraying at his back, soaking his shirt and running down, working its way to soaking his jeans. His jaw agape and his shoulders raised and tense for a moment before he adjusts and they drop. His already tight jeans are beginning to cling around his now very obvious bulge. “Alright yeah I deserved thattt-” he chuckles but his voice gets caught in his throat and his last word dragging on when he lets his eyes drift down your bare, dripping, glowing wet body standing in front of him. You watch as his brown eyes darken and cloud with desire, your own eyes slowly taking in his own body and landing right on his excruciatingly hard cock that's begging to be let out of his strained jeans. Your own eyes glaze over with lust and reluctantly they scan back up Steve's body to meet his. His eyes droopy and brows furrowed, strands of his brown locks now soaked and a darker color as they stick to his forehead jaw still practically on the floor.

“Steve.. please” you whine, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended and full of vulnerability. “Oh fuck it” he grunts and surges forward, his warm hands wrapping around your slippery wasit pulling your exposed body flush against his colthed one as his lips crash against yours.

You let out a small gasp and shut your eyes tightly before kissing back passionately, lips molding together perfectly as hands roam and slide around each other's drenched bodies. Steve’s hand slips up your side, around your back and up your spine slowly before gripping the back of your neck deepening the kiss. You hum into his mouth and let his tongue invade your own mouth and take over dancing with your tongue. His other hand sliping the opposite way, down your hip and over your soft thigh before cupping your throbbing sex. A whimper escapes your lips, the steam from your hot shower filling the bathroom only seemed to double, surrounding the fogged up shower as well as your and Steve's entangled bodies. “Harrington..baby i need you please” you pull away from the heated kiss and whine leaning into his touch, your hands splayed across his lower stomach. One sliding under his soaked shirt and the other sliding down and starting to work at the button on his pants. The running shower head is still spraying right at Steve's back who's too entranced with you to care about the water bill that's raising higher and higher to longer it runs uselessly.

A cocky smirk is plastered on Steve’s face as water flows down his chiseled face and drips off his chin. His nibble fingers slide through your folds and slip through your slick before plunging deep inside you. His middle and ring finger work in tandem to thrust inside your aching cunt and reach that spongy spot that makes you see stars. Your pussy clenches around his fingers after every thrust inside, his long fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You let out a loud wanton moan in relief and pleasure that gets muffled when Steve's lips collide with your own once again. You finish unbuttoning his jeans and do your best to push the fabric as well as his boxers down his thick thighs as they cling to his legs. His neglected cock finally springing free, his leaking red tip angry and desperate for attention.

All the tension and Steve's fast and well trained movements make the pleasure build up fast in the pit of your stomach. You moan and whimper into his mouth as his fingers keep thrusting hard and deep inside you, Steve’s thumb starting to rub slow circles on your twitching clit pushing you closer and closer to that edge. “You gonna cum on my fingers cutie?” His voice comes out taunting and condensing, the sound rebervating against the tile walls in the shower and bouncing all around you. You nod frantically and your knees buckle, your legs almost giving out from under you. Steve uses the hand gripping the back of your neck to make you hold eye contact as well as hold your body up steady as you grow limper in his arms the closer you get.

“Well you know how our little game goes right baby? Well you pulled me in the shower for throwing you in the pool” he starts explaining and you fight your eyes fluttering shut and your thoughts drifting away as you get closer and closer to tipping over the edge. You lazily nod in understanding. “Yes baby yes Steve I know i know!” You babble and moan out nearly incoherently as your eyes shut for a second but snap back open. Your cunt begins to throb and ache for releasing and holding it in starts to become painful. “Well it's my turn again and i think i'm gonna edge you cutie you know, for pay back?” He chuckles and as quickly as he slipped them in he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you let out a long whine in protest as your head falls back and your climax dies back down.

A shit eating grin is glued to Harrington's face and he soothes the pain by circling your clit with the two fingers he slipped out softly. Your disappointment doesn't last long however once Steve grabs both of your arms, pulling them behind your back and spinning your body around to press your tits up against the cold shower wall. Your hips nestled and pressed against his, his cock sliding through your folds as he grinds against your ass. Your nipples harden from the shift in temperature from the shower water. The hand that isn't holding both of your arms behind your back comes down to slap your ass before Steve's tip spilling pre cum is pushing at your entrance and with one hard sharp thrust he's inside.

“Oh god~ Baby” you scream as Steve gives you no time to adjust to his size, the painful sting of your cunt stretching and accommodating his cock. He rubs his thumb over the small of your back as he pushes your arms flush to your back keeping your body right where he wants you. Steve thrusts deep and fast, desperately needing this feeling for so long he can't get enough. The sound of your moans and mumbled curses, sweet nothings and whines of ‘baby’ ‘more’ ‘yes!’ fill the room alongside the slapping sound of wet skin against wet skin. Steve's balls slap against your clit in this position adding to your pleasure. You let out a loud scream of pleasure the harder he thrusts, your climax right on the edge faster than you wished. Your hips slam back against Steves and any thought of being mad at him for throwing you in the freezing cold pool have long dissipated along with the steam in the bathroom and long forgotten about with the running dryer with your towel and Steve's clothes.

→ a/n: i got very carried away with this and it took two days to finish so it came out late and im sorry but im actually pretty proud of this one. fun enough this was sort of an idea carried over from last years kinktober that i didnt do and now finally i did it!! leave me feedback and sorry for any typos!

[boxofbonesfic]

Friends, readers, mutuals, I bid thee welcome. (Also if you’re new here, hi!) I am so excited to share my kinktober work with you all, and I hope you’ll take the time out to enjoy the spread I’ve laid out for you! I will be publishing two fics per week for the month of October, all with different kinky themes! Without further ado, here is the masterlist, links will be added as fics are posted! Please be mindful of the warnings, and enjoy!

divider is by @1-800-shedevil

1. 𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 - (Teratophilia) Orc!Bucky x Sacrifice!Reader

You draw the devil’s coin in the village lottery, you will buy another season of peace for your people—but you don’t want peace. 

2. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 - (Body Horror) Eldritch!Ransom x Human!Reader

The evil that waits at the heart of Drysdale manor defies explanation—and comprehension.

3. 𝐹𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 - (Sensory Deprivation) Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Breaking in his spirited new wife is going to require some rather unconventional methods.

4. 𝐼𝓃 𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝐿𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 - (Overstimulation) Cult Leader!Steve Rogers x Reader

Sharing your body is a small price to pay for enlightenment—at least, Father Rogers thinks.

5. 𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇-𝒾𝓂𝒶𝑔𝑒 - (Temperature Play) Ghost!Pietro Maximoff x Reader

As you grieve his loss, your lover returns for one final farewell.

6. 𝒟𝓇. 𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁-𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 - (Bondage) Steve Abnesti x Reader

You can’t forget him, your lover, your friend, your captor. And you’re going to make sure he can’t forget you either.

7. 𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹 - (Mind Break) Doctor!Curtis Everett x Patient!Reader

After months of grueling, dedicated work, your doctor finally makes a breakthrough.

8. 𝒯𝓇𝓊𝓁𝓎, 𝑀𝒶𝒹𝓁𝓎, 𝒟𝑒𝑒𝓅𝓁𝓎 - (Housewife Kink) Thor Odinson x Reader

After losing your job, your new boyfriend insists on you moving in with him to save money.

9. 𝐵𝑒 𝐹𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁 ✨Mystery bonus story! This story will be revealed after all the others have been posted. Keep your eyes peeled! ❤️✨

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Ghostface!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Well Kinktober is coming up and my bae is in need of sm kinkkyy

TW[updated]: Stalking, Breaking and entering, bandages, insert of foreign deadly material into privates, somnophilia, dacraephilia, Non-con, dubious con, Con-Non-con (at sm point i hope), bondage, knife play, rape kink, possessive!Spencer, murder threats, kinda forced bj, Creampie, degradation, dvp, BWC ig,(Idk what else BUT BRACE YOURSELF)

He's not supposed to be here. He thinks as he closes your backdoor. He can faintly hear you singing in the kitchen. He's definitely not supposed to be here, he locks the door and slowly walks towards your living room, the sight has him hard. You're laying on the L shaped couch in nothing but an oversized shirt that has riden up your legs exposing your lacey white panties.

He bit his lip to hide a moan as he thought of all the nasty disgusting things he could do to. He made up his mind. He wasn't going to kill you. Necrophilia wasn't his thing. He stayed in the shadows. Watching.

He watched you finish your movie. Call your friends. Scroll social media. Finally at 10:54 you went to bed, he ghosted you walking silently behind you, he wanted to laugh. You were so fucking dumb not to lock your back doors at night. He'd fuck that stupid right out of you.

He watched as you plugged in your phone, how you plopped into bed, how you went out like a light. He waited outside your room for an hour after all, he was a patient man. Especially when what he wanted was right infront of him. He finally enter and swore when he saw you.

Your shirt had ridden up even more,, you're hair was a mess and the final blow your legs were wide open calling for him to sink into them. He left the room and went round your house, locking every single window, making sure every single door is locked and every curtain drawn.

He goes back and your still in that delectable position. He slowly takes out a rope and a knife. With the speed of a cat he ties your hands up and ties your legs to both side of the bedpost. He flips the knife so the blade is in his hand, with the hilt he slowly enters your pussy.

Your pussy squelches as it goes in deeper. He takes it out and he's in awe at how slick it is now. He sucks it clean and smirks, you can definitely take him. If not, he'll make it fit.

[hwajin]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝖇𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 003. — 𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 | 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: monster!changbin x fem!implied chubby!reader

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: dangerous maybe, though you liked the adrenaline. his body fearsome, far too much for a human like you — and yet irresistible, enticing.

𝖜𝖈: 2.6k

𝖈𝖜: mature themes that could disturb some readers, huge cock changbin 😔, massive bulge kink, size kink, breeding kink if you squint??, oral (m receiving), messy sex, semi rough sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, creampie, mentions of a LOT of sperm (inside reader), slight manhandling, idk if you can call it "cocktraining" but themes of struggling to fit a dick, sex that irl would kill a person probably but it's hot in this fic

— series masterlist

You hadn’t expected to encounter him during your walk in the woods. You hadn’t expected for him to talk to you, at that. It’s not like he didn’t look human – and yet not entirely worldly, either, somehow different. You hadn’t quite expected him to be nice. He was cocky and witty, yet nice. Didn’t bare danger. You hadn’t expected seeing him in the woods anew and anew and anew, your walks soon turning into meetings, purposefully seeking him – because there was something about him you needed.

He didn’t look like a monster. Not like you’d imagine a monster to look like, anyways. He was big, much bigger than you, and buff, far too much to be simply human. His skin wasn’t quite green, nor grey – he simply carried a hint of colour beneath one you’d call human, purple maybe, or sage; you weren’t quite sure. His hands were big, one of his fitting more than two of yours, easily. His eyes had been the first thing you’d noticed – they were no colour you’d ever encountered a person to have. Deepest purple, turning into sage closer to the pupil. He didn’t have claws or a tail or ears – he was big, simply, with canines, and eyes unnatural.

And you kept coming back to the woods for him. He was big, his strength uncanny – he had once picked you up when you twisted your ankle, and the easiness he did it with sent you into orbit; no other man much picked you up, let alone with such ease.

You enjoyed the way he looked at you – curious, hungrily. A predator watching his prey, though you knew yourself in safety with him, trusted enough that if he ate humans, he would have had killed you by now already. And yet his eyes carried hunger, lingered on you longer than you deemed it fit.

His size kept bringing you back to the woods, the way his body looked, so different from what you were familiar with, so new. His size was the reason you kept seeing him, and it was his size you gasped at now – sitting in between his thighs, knees against green softened grass, his cock free from it’s confines, hard and wet before you. The same colour as the rest of his body, tip a deep purple, leaking white precum – you salivated at the sight.

His tip alone was too much for you to take. Your hands on his legs as your mouth explored him slowly, curiously, tongue swirling around his slit, drawing lines down his base, following the thick veins along his shaft. Your lips wrapped around his balls, licking and sucking to your liking, a hand of yours fondling the other one – you watched his breath quicken steadily, though he yet sat composed and unbothered; he must be used to rougher sex, with partners his species, his size and level.

Your tongue wandered up his length again, seductively, dragging out his pleasure, taking your time – getting used to him. Lips wrapping around his tip, head bobbing softly, keeping steady rhythm, not letting him out of your gaze. His eyes lay on you, dark and hooded, waiting for more yet not urging you on, not even going as much as laying a hand on you – he wanted you to take him by yourself, without his support entirely. Wanted to see you struggle around his cock, wanted your mouth stuffed full of him without his helping hand, urged on simply by your neediness. He wanted to see you wanting him, be desperate for him, struggle around him. So you continued, hands on his thighs and nails clawing into him, mouth wrapped around him snugly. You went further inch by inch, getting used to his length and then adding some, mouth already full of him yet having barely taken half of him – you were struggling, surely.

Five minutes and another five, ten more and your knees started growing sore, your jaw hanging slack at this point. You were a mess, if anything – spit covering your mouth and chin, drool spilling where your lips and Changbin’s cock connected, dripping down your chest in thick spurts, in white and translucent liquids. You’d grown impatient, hadn’t been able to take him fully after all – you were gagging around him, barely half of his length filling your mouth, your hands making work on the rest unable to fit. You had grown wetter when your hands had wrapped around the base of his cock – two of your palms could barely reach around his girth, both his length and thickness eliciting sounds of desire from you, whines and whimpers that sent vibrations down his cock; he inched closer and closer to lose himself, eventually. Your head bobbing him up and down feverishly, your hands keeping the same rhythm, your hips grinding against nothing, pussy dripping and aching to be filled. The forest was filled with sounds of utter sin – Changbin started groaning, sounds emitting from deep inside his throat, sending shivers along your arched spine. Your movements quickened with every of his grunt, your hands squeezing him raw, your reddened lips sucking in to grant him pleasure. He would buck his hips occasionally, losing control, getting lost in the pleasure you gifted him – his tip down your throat, bruising you from within making you gag around his leaking cock, wettened by your spit, his precum. His hands finally thirsted to touch you, after all – couldn’t not, when you looked at him with eyes so contradicting to your ministrations, big and doe-like, pleading. Your hair was a mess around you and he bunched it up into his fist, guiding your head along him – not forcefully, yet only giving you the illusion to be in control.

You were spent, knees digging into softened soil, your cunt urging for some contact, anything – you were sensitive, worked up enough to finish at most minimal attention, yet you weren’t granted such. Kept bucking into nothingness, kept moaning and mewling in hopes of making Changbin understand; understand that you needed him to fuck you, that you wanted to take him all, feel him within your tummy. Understand that you didn’t care if it was humanly possible or not – you needed him, needed his cock buried inside you, bruising your cervix, needed his thick fingers against your clit, stimulating until you were a brainless mess, until he needed to take you out of the woods and home himself.

And maybe he could read minds. With a grunt Changbin leaned down and pulled you up – with so much ease you mewled out, finally siting on his lap, erect cock between your torsos. Now that your stomach was lined up with his full length you doubted it was possible to take him fully, after all – his tip reached just above your naval, no matter your desire, no matter your urge to be stuffed full of him you had second thoughts now; maybe you’ve overestimated yourself.

Changbin’s hand wrapped around his erection, collecting the wetness your mouth had left and jerking himself a couple times – his eyes lay on your figure, watching you watch him with lips parted, drool and spit and precum all over you, and eyes doubled in size. The hunger within them drove the creature to insanity – you were corrupted, utterly twisted to be wanting him, to be needing and pleading for him. And he loved every bit of it.

“Want me to fuck you that bad, huh? I can see the way you’re looking at my cock, need it right here, yeah?”

He pointed his tip to your tummy, nudging himself against your skin, eliciting sloppy sounds – your back arched into him, eager, greedy. You nodded frantically, and he loved it, humiliation oozing past his throat – no more than a bitch in heat, and Changbin relished in the sight.

He leaned back, hand detaching from his girth, elbows against the armrest behind him. His smirk cocky, his eyes glistening – he had an idea, and your hips bucked against him at the sheer thought of it.

“Make yourself take me. If you manage, I’ll fuck you the way you want me to… real nice and good. How’s that sound?”

His voice sultry, lulling you into him, into the temptation. A look at him, meeting his eye, gaze lowering to inspect his tip, his shaft, his base – you barely deemed it possible, though you were too desperate to care, too pathetic not to try.

You shifted in his lap, inching closer to his torso, palms finding the steadiness of his shoulders. He didn’t even buck, didn’t move in his place whatsoever – as if there wasn’t a person sitting on him at all, as if he didn’t feel you on him altogether. You shifted and struggled, lifted yourself up a bit to align your slit with his tip, struggled some more – and he merely watched, hands backed away, smug grin sitting on his face; he nothing but enjoyed the show, fed his ego with your trying, with your need.

Your entrance was aligned with him now, your thighs hovering above his, your legs already straining – you ignored the pain, had to if you wanted your reward. You were dripping, wetting his erection as you gave a few experimental swipes against his tip, back and forth and back again – your eyes shooting him a quick glance which he returned, and you sunk down on him eventually. His tip wasn’t fully in, and the stretch was burning already, prodding at your walls, filling up your insides. You whimpered – the burn carried pain, though you enjoyed it, wanted more of it. You went slowly, similar to when you used your mouth on him – you took time to get used to an inch, took another a minute later. Though you grew impatient. The way he was looking at you throughout the process, eyes hunger-filled and lust-grazed, not reassuring nor helping – simply watching as though inspecting a meal served to him on a silver platter. Eyes darting into yours, or lingering where your bodies met, collided; you grew impatient and sunk down too hastily, whining out in pain, grinding against him in pleasure. You were greedy, always wanting more. Bouncing shortly on the part of his cock you could take, fucking yourself on him with shut eyes and nails digging into his skin, watch him enjoy the stimulation as well, momentarily trying to take more of him, to get fuller of him, to sink onto him entirely. And you did inch by inch, and your wetness made it easy for you. You were gushing, practically, waters around him, trickling down your thighs, towards his base. It pooled at his core, wettened his skin, messed up his pubes – Changbin was as much a mess as you, though he contained it far better.

He was about half-way into you now – you were panting, begging in a mantra, for what you were unsure. Changbin’s chest was sheeted in sweat, beads glistening against his deep skin, pooling in the creases his muscles created, dripped down his body for you to watch, mesmerized. Everything about him, everything about current circumstances made you thirst for him further – your legs were burning though you never halted, bouncing up and down, taking another inch, bouncing again. Even half his length was more than what you normally were used to, mind already fogged up, body fucked out. And you were close. Fingers circling against your clit frantically, unable to contain the urge, the desire for more pleasure overwhelming, simply. You cried and begged his name, fucking yourself onto him, hips bucking in a rhythm messy and uncoordinated – you had lost all control of your body by now, the feeling of his cock and your pending orgasm having taken over your senses entirely. You thought only him, felt only his body, saw and scented nothing but sex, in its very form.

And you came around him in spasms, muscles contracting and body trembling, legs daring to give out – and then Changbin held you up, two big hands around your waist, and his hips bucked into you. He made you take him entirely, all at once – you cried out, eyes closing hard enough to draw stars behind your lids, your fingers clinging onto his body, your own overstimulated to a maximum. He didn’t give you time to calm down after your orgasm, nor did he grant you a minute to adjust; he had taken control now, having teetered at the edge of carnal desire, of animalistic hunger for the past hour now. He needed you, entirely.

Your moans of pleasure echoed through the forest, any possible hitchhiker or wanderer easily hearing you – and Changbin with you. He didn’t necessarily try to hide his own sounds, grunts and groans of satisfaction. They sounded deep in your ear, sent vibrations through the entirety of your body, making the small hairs in your nape stand up straight. You arched into him, into the pleasure, into the pain – his touch was rough on you, yet you knew he was still holding back a certain amount, to not cause serious damage.

And still he was cocky. Maybe his very caution, the very fact he needed to control himself to a content, the fact you looked so utterly filthy in his hold without him fucking you to the extent he knew he could – it caused his hips to fasten, his body to sweat, his palms to warm up against the sensitivity of your skin. You were so fragile in his hold, so weak in comparison to him; he pistoled into you, skin slapping against skin, slick trickling down your bodies, out of your abused hole. And his eyes were fixated on your stomach – with every of his thrusts his tip was visible inside of you, protruding beneath the stretch of your skin. Delicious if anything, your body welcoming his so gladly, so unquestionably. You wrapped around him snuggly, your walls clamping down on him whenever he moved, eager, despite having cum not a minute ago. You kept wanting more, kept begging, kept pleading – Changbin grew light-headed.

His hips quicker, his cock within you further; his hand made it’s way to the bulge he created, palming your tummy, forcing himself even deeper inside you.

“Taking me so well, look at that- fuckk.”

The additional stimulation from outside got Changbin’s hips stuttering, bucking into you in lost rhythm, his sounds now in a higher pitch. His hand pressed further onto you, making you feel tighter around him, his thumb wandering down to stay at your clit – he needn’t to move his finger much, the way you grinded against him, pathetic body atop greedy one made it work, even if messily. You were close now, not having calmed down after the first orgasm yet nearing the second one. Your hips frantic, your throat spilling sounds you would be embarrassed about under different circumstances – yet you let them materialize freely now, with no hesitation, with absence of any shame. Changbin’s hips quickened further, struggling to keep steadiness, losing his rhythm entirely – and then you clenched around him, your nails dragging along his skin, daring to draw blood, your lips called out his name; and he spilled into you. The pit of your stomach snapping, cumming with a chocked sob, feeling his seed within you, thick, warm; a lot. You looked down your middle; his cock was yet buried inside you, releasing last drops of his orgasm – it was spilling out of you already, pearly white cum making a mess of your bodies, and he wasn’t yet finished, filling and filling you with more of his load. Your belly rounded, your tummy growing with every ounce of his cum – your hips bucked against him at the sight, a whiny moan leaving the pits of your throat. The sound ripped through Changbin’s ears, and only then he pulled out – white semen oozing out of you, gushing past your lips and pooling at his thighs. A chuckle from him, another whimper from you; two of his fingers scooped up his release trickling out of you, pushing his digits in, trapping his orgasm within you, not letting your belly shrink back.

“Be a good girl, keep it all inside for me.”

@reianagarcia @mixtape-racha @bbyboychanyeol @jenshinee @artisticbirb @fire-08 @lxverss @unlikelysublimekryptonite @aiko0invalid @laughatdanger @salfetkablog @saintriots @boi-bi-ahaha @summer3sworld @bangchans-angel @jenos-eye-smiles @alnex05 @imwithurmother @yangjeonginswifee @hydroyaksha @starlit-rin @channiesgoodgirl @lizzetmv @poody1608 @fandems @stanskzsstuff @cypher-girlx @kayleigh-28 @jetblackbelle @agnes-king @seoseoya @lipstickandloveletters @viviixlyy @hanjisungsgirl @having-an-internal-crisis-rn