This is BonesCorps' fanfic account. I crosspost from ao3, you can find me there as BonesCorps. I post multi-chapter fics there. Fandoms I write for:
- Criminal Minds
- Supernatural
- RE2 (will write for more when I play the other games)
- Stardew Valley
- Baldur's Gate 3
- Bungou Stray Dogs
- MCU
- X-Men
I'll tell you if I write for a character or not. I will write romantic, sexual, and platonic relationships. I will not write non-con, dub-con, incest, or fauxcest.
I will only write for ftm/transmasc, male, non-binary, and gender neutral readers. I won't force fem readers to not read, but these will refer to the reader with male or gender neutral pronouns and I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.
Please be respectful. I am a person, so I might make mistakes.
Please do not repost my work, but feel free to reblog, like, and comment.
Steve and his boyfriend are on a mission when Steve is hit with a powerful blast of magic back at the tower he's shocked to see that whatever it was gave him a pussy so him and his boyfriend decide to experiment with it so he sits on his boyfriends face as he eats him out until Steve lifts himself up squealing and starts squirting all over the male readers face until he sits back on his face and the male reader eats him out until again Steve lifts up squirting on his face. Then Steve is riding the Male Readers dick and as he's riding him he starts squirting spraying all over his stomach and chest and he squirts a couple times while riding his dick and after awhile Steve gets on the edge of the bed and spreads his legs while the Male Reader gets on his knees in front of him and eats him out until Steve pulls his hair back and squirts all over his face spraying him and when the male reader shines his face Steve has his dick back so the male reader jerks him off until he cums and they cuddle catching their breath.
Steve has the super soldier serum so he doesn't get easily overstimulated.
Please, please, please make this long.... Please.
I hope you do this, can you either share this to let me know what you think or make a post saying if you'll do it or not? Please.
Omg, thank you for the ask, nonnie. I hope I did your ask justice. Here you go :3
CW: Squirting, like, way too much squirting, overstimulation, incorrect use of ray gun, shameless smut, porn with not much plot
It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. You and Steve were supposed to just watch some smugglers, but of course, Steve had to go be a hero and stop them. You were both way out numbered. Even if Steve is a super soldier and you're a mutant, this wasn't easy. By the end, you're both exhausted.
You thought you caught all of the smugglers, but one appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He had a strange, alien weapon that he shot at you. Steve, in all of his hero-ness, jumped in front of the blast, catching its full force and being knocked back a few feet.
With Steve out of commission and the weapon needing a recharge, you had enough time and space to activate your ability and make short work of the smuggler.
You helped Steve up and brought him back to the compound. That's when you noticed something was… off about him. He was panting and his face was flushed. And he had on an expression that you knew all too well from when you and him had your fun together, so you brought him to your room and set him on your bed.
"Either that ray did something or you were just really happy to watch me fight," you tease. Steve sighs.
"Maybe both," he mumbles. You chuckle. It's no secret that Steve finds your mutant ability attractive. It often leads to heated moments in-between missions.
"So, what did the ray do?" You ask.
"It, uhm… I think something's wrong… down there…" He gestures awkwardly to his crotch. You snort. He's always so shy before asking for the most depraved things you've ever heard. Say what you want about Captain America, but once Steve Rogers is in your bed, he's a whore.
"Oh yeah? I think I'm gonna need more words before I check it out, hun," you taunt.
"I… I feel tingly, but… not in a hard way…" He practically whispers. You tilt your head.
"So you're not hard?" You ask, a bit confused. Maybe he just can't get it up today?
"I think it's something else…" He's so quiet now that you have to lean in to hear him.
"Do you need a doctor or do you want me to take a look?" You ask, not out of arousal, more just plain worry.
"I-I think I just need you to look," his blush deepens. You nod.
"Okay, hun. Trousers off," you instruct. He listens, taking the bottom part of his costume off, leaving him in the top and his briefs. You notice a little wet spot, but no bulge. You don't mention it incase it was an accident, you don't want to embarrass him. You kiss his cheek. "Can you take your boxers off too?" You murmur. He nods and obeys.
Steve reaches down and pulls his underwear off. He shuts his eyes in case there's something wrong. Your gasp isn't helping his anxiety.
"What is it?" He whispers.
"Pussy," you respond, forgetting how that may sound with no context.
"Language and rude. I just want to know what's wrong with me," he mutters. You let out an amused huff.
"No, dork. You have a pussy," you clarify.
"What-" He starts then opens his eyes and looks down. You were right. There it is. Right where his penis used to be. Fat lips and blonde bush. He looks up at you and sees that you're practically drooling.
"Take the rest of your clothes off, Steven." He knows to obey when you use 'Steven' instead of the regular 'Steve' or 'hun'.
Steve rushes to take the rest of his clothes off. He almost argues that he should be checked out by a doctor until he sees the look in your face. He's not completely naked and, man, is his pussy soaked.
"W-what's next?" He fidgets. You don't answer immediately, instead laying down on the bed.
"Sit on my face," you say. He lets out an undignified squeak at your directness. If he was Bucky, he would say something like, 'Jeez, take a guy out to dinner first.' but he's not Bucky. He's Steve. And Steve is a horny, submissive mess when it comes to you.
He climbs up and straddles your chest, blushing so hard it goes down to his chest. You rub his thighs, letting him know it's okay to tap out at any time.
"I- are you sure you want this? I'm over 200 pounds," he mumbles and you laugh slightly.
"You're 240 to be exact and trust me, I want all two hundred-forty pounds of muscle crushing my skull," you lean up and kiss his abdomen. It twitches.
"I don't want to crush you," he whispers, seemingly genuinely distressed.
"No, baby. It's a figure of speech," you reach a hand up and cup his cheek. "I meant to say that I can handle all your weight," you murmur, eyes sparkling with the hope of tasting him. He sighs, blush spreading down to his abs.
He lets you tug him to hover over your mouth. You let him stay like that dow a while while you just admire his new pussy. Your mouth is watering and you're getting a bit impatient, but you wait for him to get comfortable. Once he is, you lean up and lick a stripe up his slit. He lets out another squeak and his legs start shaking.
You pull him to sit fully on your face as you dive in. Steve is helpless as you suck and lick all over, exploring his new hole with extreme vigor. He makes so many cute noises, it almost makes you wish you were recording this. Key word is 'almost'. You know Steve isn't comfortable being recorded when he's vulnerable, especially not when his boyfriend is eating him out like a starved man.
You know enough about vulva anatomy to know where the clit is, so you suck it hard. Steve lets out a series of moans and whimpers that make you twitch in your pants. You circle your tongue around it and Steve lets out a choked noise.
Before he can warn you that something feels weird, he cries out and squirts all over your face. You slurp up as much as you can, but he doesn't stop for a full minute. The whole time, he's moaning like a slut and grinding against your tongue.
He finally stops and leans back to sit on your chest again. You wipe off the excess fluid on a pillow case with a grin.
"That was great," you say with a wistful look on your face.
"I-" Steve starts, but can't seem to find the right words. He just sits there for a second before letting out a pathetic whimper.
"Aw, love. Do you need more?" You condescend. He nods, getting off slightly on the humiliation of you words.
You tug his hips back onto your face, sticking your tongue deep inside him. He squirms and pants.
He cums even faster the second time, pulling your hair and letting out what can only be described as a squeal as he squirts again. You drink him up and seat him back on your chest with a chuckle.
"So messy, hun," you tease. He covers his face, trying to hide away from your view, even though you can see all of him. You rub his thighs. "Need more?" He nods. You laugh softly. "So honest."
You pull your cock out and guide Steve to straddle your hips. You pull his top half down to kiss him, letting him taste himself on your tongue. He whimpers into your mouth and grinds his clit on your cock. You grin, lifting his hips and letting him line you up to his hole.
"Go on, cutie. Have fun," you pat his ass to get him going.
He rolls his hips, moaning at the feeling of you sliding in and out of him. Soon enough, he's bouncing and moaning like a whore. The whole time, he has a drunk smile on his face.
He lets out a near-scream and throws his head back as he squirts on your cock. It gets all over your stomach and chest and only makes you harder. You have to hold back from cumming as he continues bouncing, seemingly unable to stop his own hips.
He starts letting out whimpers and whines, letting you know he's getting overstimulated. He's still not stopping and if anything, he looks more into it. You smirk at how horny he is.
He makes himself squirt three more times before you finally let go, cumming deep in his pussy with a groan.
You pull him off you, sitting him on the edge of the bed before getting on your knees on the floor. You put a pillow under you, so you're not busting your knees as you make Steve feel good.
You spread his legs, watching your cum drip out of his pussy for a moment. After a bit, you dive back in, moaning at both your tastes mixing in your mouth. You lick deep inside him before sucking his clit. You go back and forth between his hole and clit before he pulls your face away with a squeak as he squirts again.
He pauses for a moment before gasping. His crotch lights up the same color as the beam that hit him. You have to shut your eyes to keep from going blind.
Once the light dies down, you open your eyes again only to see his dick back where it belongs. You laugh softly, seeing it hard.
You climb onto the bed next to Steve who's a flushed mess. You kiss his cheek and neck, dragging a hand up and down his body before wrapping a hand around his cock. He shudders at the feeling, leaning into you as your warm hand gently strokes him. He lets out little hums and moans, his hips bucking into your palm with each motion you make.
Soon enough, he cums with a shiver and a pleasurable sigh.
You take him to get cleaned up, leaving him in a bath as you clean the sheets. He really did make a mess. Luckily, you had a mattress protector or you'd need a whole new bed. the thought makes you chuckle slightly.
By the time Steve's out of the bath, you're both tired, so you snuggle up together in the new sheets. You give him a sweet kiss before he drifts off. You wait until he's fully asleep before you follow suit.
You both agree that as great as that was, it's best that it was a one-time event. No matter how many experiments Banner wants to conduct with the ray gun you and Steve recovered.
Never written for Steve before. Please let me know if I did something wrong.
Gif not mine. Please don't put my works into ai for any reason. Don't repost my work, but feel free to like, reblog, and comment.
— i hate how female/fem reader is treated as the standard, i dont wanna get excited over spencer x reader fics assuming they’re gn!reader but all of a sudden im surpised with “she/her” pronouns
CW: Face sitting, squirting, overstim, multiple orgasms
“Are, uhm… are you sure you want to do this?” Spenser asks, his voice trembling with nerves and arousal.
Right now, your boyfriend, Spencer Reid, is hovering his pussy over your face while you look up at him hungrily. Ever since you told him you want him to sit on your face, he’s been shaking slightly, partly out of fear for you, but mostly out of how horny that sentence made him.
He’s practically dripping over you, but he still won’t sit. You lean your head up and lick a stripe from his hole to his clit. His legs shake, but he still won’t sit.
“Come on, Spence. Please? For me?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes. He nearly caves, his arousal is starting to cloud the rational parts of his brain. He lets out a needy whine, and you think you have him, but he still won’t sit.
“I-I don’t want to hurt you. What if you can’t breathe? How will I know for sure that you will tap my leg for air? I might be so lost in pleasure that I won’t be able to tell when I need to stan-” he gets cut off by something between a squeak and a moan when you lick him again.
“Stop doing that. I have valid concerns about your health. I don’t want you to get hurt,” he sounds less convinced by his own words now.
“If I suffocate in your pussy, I will die happy and extremely aroused,” you grin up at him, fully willing to die between his thighs.
“No, you’ll die in intense distress,” he has a slight pout that makes you want to nibble his bottom lip until he gasps.
“Yes, yes, I know the symptoms of suffocation, but, baby, I would gladly let you give me brain damage for even a minute with my face in your cunt.” Spencer blushes at your crass words.
“But-“ you cut him off.
“Spencer, unless you actually don’t want this, sit that pussy down and relax,” you sigh. Spencer finally relents and moves his hips closer but doesn’t quite sit down fully. You immediately start lapping at his juices. Your tongue hits his clit a few times, but it’s clear you won’t give him proper pleasure until he sits on your face.
“Don’t make me bring out the riding crop,” you warn. He sits down. Your lips wrap around his bottom growth, sucking gently. His legs tremble as he whimpers your name. He is just the right mix of salty and sweet. You lick his lips and wriggle your tongue into his tight hole. You don’t think he’s aware of the noises he’s making. He doesn’t know how angelic he sounds while riding your tongue.
“F-fuck!” Spencer cries out as you suck his clit hard. He’s leaking all over your face and you couldn’t be happier about it. When his thighs clamp down around your head, you feel like you’re in heaven.
While Spencer may be built like a twig on his top half, it’s clear that his bottom half was favoured by the gods. His thighs and ass are round and soft, perfect for activities like this or when he’s sitting on your lap for other assorted activities. Hell, even his pussy lips are fat. He is the perfect sub, is all you can think in you head while you eat him out like you’ve been dying in a desert and this is your only source of moisture.
Spencer is completely gone at this point, he’s moaning and whimpering so much that your neighbors might think someone is being tortured. But unlike every other day in Spencer’s life, he’s not experiencing pains that only damned souls should feel. He is instead on the edge of an orgasm.
His legs are trembling and shaking as he whimpers. His pussy his clenching around nothing while you lick and suck his clit. You bring a hand over and gently finger him, rubbing his G-spot.
Spencer cries out and juices gush out of him and onto your face. You lap them up without giving him a break. He whimpers and whines. He tries to pull up, but you hold his hips down and you clean his lips with your tongue.
“W-wait! It’s too much!” Spencer cries. You pull back slightly.
“Do you want me to stop?” You give him an out. His pussy twitches above your face and he shakes his head.
“N-no… keep going,” he mumbles.
“Keep going…?” You prompt.
“Keep going p-please,” he whines.
“Good boy,” you praise as you pull him back onto your face. You go back to ‘cleaning him up’, when in reality, you plan on making him even more of a mess.
You continue fingering him as you lick his lips and suck his clit. He lets out a noise similar to what a dog might when they’re in pain. You pay no mind to this noise, aware that it’s just the sound of him being overwhelmed. His poor little brain can’t handle being overstimulated, so it sounds like he’s in pain. He’s a big boy and can say when it’s actually too much.
“Ah! Don’t stop! F-fuck!” He’s practically sobbing at this point. His legs are squeezing your head as he gets closer and closer. You have the cruel thought to stop him from cumming again, but you decide to be nice today.
You curl your fingers inside him in the way that makes his toes curl. You’re sure his eyes are rolled back in his head. You suck his bottom growth harder, swirling your tongue around it.
He squeaks and goes completely silent as his pussy gushes onto you in a massive squirt. You move a bit slower to let him ride it out. The squirting orgasm lasts for nearly a minute before he finally stops with a loud whimper.
You pull away and move him to lay down on the bed next to you. He immediately curls into you, still shaking.
“That… that was so good,” his voice is shaky and he’s clearly worn out. “I think I should repay you…”
“Love, you don’t need to do anything,” you say as you caress his cheek.
“Not even aftercare?” He sounds a bit lost, like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. You shake your head.
“Let me handle that,” you kiss his forehead. He slowly nods.
You walk out of the room for a moment, still butt-ass naked, but it’s your apartment, so who cares?
Spencer lays in the bed, his legs are still shaking and his pussy is throbbing. Despite the slight pain from the overstimulation, he’s happy. He’s glad he has such a caring partner that wants to make him feel good. His past relationships were all about his partners at the time, but you make him feel loved and wanted. Also, incredibly sexy. He remembers the first time you saw his top surgery scars. He’s been insecure about them since he got the operation, but you traced them with your fingers with the reverence of someone during worship.
He had come out to you just before you started dating, but he never expected you to accept his scars the way you did. At best, he expected you to ignore them. At worst, to downright hate them. He can’t count how many times he’s had to wear shirts during sex so that his partner wouldn’t be disgusted. When he told you that in a moment of vulnerability, you told him that those people never deserved his attention in the first place. You not only let him have his shirt off during sex, but you also let him walk around your apartment shirtless. You check out his scars almost as much as you check out his ass. It makes him feel wanted in a way that he never had before.
He cried the first time you two had sex because of how you worshipped his body, paying special attention to the places he’s felt insecure about like the stretch marks on his thighs and his scars. He has more than just top surgery scars from all of the things he’s been through. You have never judged him for that, and it not only made him so happy he cried, but it also made him cum harder than he ever had before.
You learned over time that he’s very sensitive and needs lots of reassurance for a lot of things; a big one being sex. He’s very prone to sub drops after the act if he doesn’t feel like he did a good enough job pleasing you.
You walk back into the room with a damp rag and a water bottle. You hand him the water bottle.
“Squirting can dehydrate you. Drink up while I take care of you,” you explain, giving him a kiss on the forehead.
He sits up against the pillows with his legs spread. He know what happens next and his body already moves to the right position. He starts sipping on the water.
You take the damp rag and clean up his juices from his inner thighs. Once you get to his pussy, you move more carefully so as to not make him uncomfortable.
He hums when he feels the warm rag cleaning him. Even when he used to get aftercare, which was not often, the rag would always be cold and the person would be far too harsh. You clean him like he’s a fragile statue that you want to keep safe. You’ve seen how often this statue has gotten broken, you’ve seen the scars and the places where people failed to put him back together properly, and you still care. He couldn’t be more grateful that you were the one that found him.
He was over the moon when you asked him out and once he found out how good you are in the bedroom, it was over for him. He is head over heels in love with you and your gentle hands.
If he were to marry anyone, it would be you. Not just for the sex, although that is a massive bonus, but also for the way you take care of him.
As you clean him up, you see that he’s lost in thought. You know exactly where his mind has gone.
“Thinking about exes again, love?” He blinks and looks at you. He nods sheepishly and takes another sip of water. “You can talk about them if you want. I don’t mind.” That’s it. You don’t mind. You never mind. You’ve heard thousands of rambles about his exes and you’ve only nodded along, sometimes with a smile on your face when he tells you that you’re better than them. You’ve listened to him talk about mathematical equations and even if you don’t understand them, you still nod along like it all makes sense. He couldn’t be happier about you.
You clean over his pelvis, and he smiles softly at that simple gesture. You didn’t have to clean there. It wasn’t messy, but you still took the time to be thorough.
“How do you feel, love?” Your voice is soft and gentle. Spencer hums.
“Good…” he mumbles.
“Does anything hurt?”
“My, uhm…” his face turns bright red as he gestures to his crotch. You nod.
“Ice pack or do you just want me to leave it alone?”
“L-leave it alone…” you nod.
“Need some help with the water?” You tease.
“I-I can drink it,” he mutters, but doesn’t make a move to drink from the bottle. You climb up and sit next to him, sitting on your hip to look at him.
“Spencer, if you don’t drink more water, I’m going to do it for you,” you warn, but apparently, despite his trembling legs and throbbing pussy, he still feels defiant. He doesn’t move to drink. You sigh and take the water bottle from his hand. You open the cap and push the opening to his lips. “Be a good boy now.”
He obeys and opens his mouth. You pour water into his mouth in short bursts so that he can swallow in between splashes. He drinks half the bottle with your help. You finally pull the bottle away from him, satisfied.
“Good job, baby,” you coo and kiss his cheek. He blushes at the praise.
You lay down, pulling him on top of you. He lays on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. He hums, finally worn out from the multiple orgasms and the cleaning. He closes his eyes and buries his face in your neck. You smile and lean your cheek against his head. You can hear his breathing even out.
“Goodnight, my love. Rest well,” you whisper as you close your eyes. Both of you drift into peaceful slumber, content with the events of the night.
“Babe! Please!” Spencer whines as you secure the strap-on to your hips.
He is currently tied to the bed with a spreader bar between his legs showing off his soaked pussy. He’s writhing against the sheets and restraints, moaning like he’s being fucked despite not having anything being done.
Today was T shot day for both of you and Spencer is ovulating. T lust hits him harder than it does you, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t also wet.
You climb onto the bed and tap the tip of the dildo against his pussy. He whines.
“Patience, love. Good things happen in time,” you whisper while teasing him. You’re not teasing him so that his pleasure will be more intense, you’re teasing him for the love of the game. You like seeing him suffer a little before you fuck him. He knows this but doesn’t complain because he knows you’ll do a lot worse if he’s bratty. You’re enjoying the vibrations in your pussy from your end of the strap-on. It has a long, curved dildo on the receiver’s side, and a little vibrator on the giver’s side. The vibrator hooks into your pussy and gives you some much-needed relief.
“P-please, touch me,” Spencer mewls. You rub the dildo into his pussy lips, but you don’t touch his clit or dip into his hole.
“I am touching you,” you point out teasingly.
“More,” Spencer whines.
“More what? Be a good boy and use your words.”
“Touch me more,” he whimpers.
“Not enough, baby. How do you want me to touch you?” You scold.
“F-fuck me… please,” he whispers.
“Come on, I know you can beg better than that,” you coax.
“P-please fuck me. Fuck me hard with your cock,” he pauses, whimpering for what he’s about to say next. “Fuck my pussy ‘til I’m screaming…”
“Good boy. You beg so pretty for me,” you lean over him and take one of his nipples in your mouth. He hasn’t gotten top surgery, so he still has a bit of titty, but they aren’t large. His boobs are the perfect size to suck on or play with. The only time he’s okay with having them on his chest is when you’re touching them. You always know how to make his chest feel good.
Spencer whimpers as you suck on his nipple. It’s enough of a distraction for you to start sliding your cock into him. He arches his back with a loud moan. Despite the stretch and pain that comes with the size of your strap-on, he still loves the first thrust in. The slow push filling him up is easily in his top ten favorite feelings.
“There we go, love. How does that feel?” You coo softly as he takes your strap like a champ. His eyes are glossy and unfocused as he nods, not quite realizing that you didn’t ask a yes or no question. “Words, pretty boy.” He whines.
“Good… s-so fucking good,” he speaks breathlessly. You push deeper and he gasps.
“That’s good. I want my pretty boy to feel his best.” You kiss and suck on his chest as you finally bottom out. He moans loudly at that. You hold still, letting him adjust.
“P-please move,” he keens.
“As you wish, my prince.” You draw back halfway before thrusting all the way back in. He’s already a mess and you’ve only thrusted twice. “Why are you so sensitive, love? Is your body playing tricks with your hormones?” He just nods and makes an unintelligible noise of pleasure.
You build a proper pace and he starts falling apart. His pussy clenches and unclenches like he’s being fucked with an actual cock. It’s like his body wants to milk you. Unfortunately for him, there’s nothing to milk.
His moans cut through the previously quiet room and fill it with magnificent sounds of pleasure. Your cat probably hates you both with how loud he’s being. His body is so alight with pleasure that he doesn’t just moan on the inward motions, but the outword ones as well.
He wiggles his hips, trying to get more pleasure from your strap. You thrust deep inside him, hitting a spot just above his cervix. He doesn’t like cervix stimulation, but if you get close enough, he cries out.
“How does my good boy feel?” You kiss his neck.
“C-close!” He whimpers.
“Yeah? Is my baby boy close to his orgasm?” He nods, eyes unfocused and fighting not to roll back. You stop moving. He blinks, trying to process what just happened.
“What?” He whispers. “Noooo, I was so close,” He whines.
“I know, baby, but you can’t just yet.”
“Why not?” His voice is high pitched and watery.
“Because I’m not close. You want me to cum, right? You want me to feel good?” You leverage his people pleasing tendencies to hide the fact that you’re tormenting him because it’s fun.
“Y-yes… I want you to feel good,” he murmurs, still upset that he’s falling from a high he never got to reach.
“Good boy, you’re doing so well for me,” you praise, kissing his neck and chest. You run your hands up and down his sides, the tickling feeling only serving to fuel his arousal. You gently grind your strap into him, also pushing your vibrator deeper. He moans softly. You trail kisses down to his tits. You suck on one nipple and rub the other. He arches his chest into your touch.
“P-please, it’s not enough,” Spencer’s voice is somewhere between a whisper and a whine.
“What’s not enough, baby?” You muse.
“This. This-this isn’t enough. Please… harder,” he practically moans the last word. You let out a low chuckle.
“Okay, baby. I’ll give it to you harder,” you smirk and he doesn’t have enough time to think about the consequences of his words before you’re pounding into him. He lets out a loud, scream-like moan as you plunder and pillage his body, taking what you want and barely leaving any meat on the bone.
All he can do is struggle against the restraints and sob while you take him apart in a brutal fashion. You hammer into his cunt as it makes loud squelching noises that would be disgusting if they weren’t coming from one of your favorite things. He throws his head back as he writhes and cries. You grab his hair, pulling just enough to make him gasp, and force his head to watch where your strap-on enters him. His legs tremble and a croaked whimper escapes him. Tears drip onto his breasts. You let go of his head and lick his tears up from his chest. They taste like if ocean water got on God’s most perfect islands and you’ve been dying in a desert.
The marks left on his chest make it look like he was mauled by a bear, or at least a very determined raccoon. You don’t hold back with fucking him or leaving hickeys and bite marks. He whimpers when your teeth sink into his sensitive flesh.
He throws his head back with a loud moan as he cums around the strap-on. His noises are your favorite song. You could listen to them on loop forever and you would never grow tired of them. You intentionally hit his G-spot mid orgasm to make him squeak and hiccup.
“T-too much… ngh… it’s too much,” he slurs between moans. You grin.
“Shh, baby. I’m so close. You can take a little more, right? For me?” You coax. He whimpers and nods.
“Y-yes… can take more…” he hiccups and clenches around the dildo. You groan and grind into him to make the vibrator hit the right spots.
His eyes roll back as the strap-on grinds against his G-spot. Right as you reach your peak, Spencer screams and squirts all over the dildo.
“F-fuck! Oh my god!” He cries out, sobbing a little. Tears are streaming down his face as he tries to calm himself. He’s panting and trembling.
You pull out slowly as to not make him more sensitive, it’s a futile effort, he’s always been sensitive and he just had three orgasms, one of which made him squirt. You take the strap-on off and pull him close.
“Shh, are you okay, love?” You keep your voice low to make sure you don’t overwhelm him more. He nods and whimpers. You hold him to your chest. He calms at the steady beat of your heart.
“Y-yeah… ‘m okay… just tired and a bit s-sensitive,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, I figured. Let’s rest, baby. We can clean up later, okay?” He nods.
You remove the ropes binding him to the bed.
You both settle down and drift off in each other’s arms, happy knowing that you’re both satisfied.
CW: Oral fixation, hand & finger kink, dildo sucking, premature ejaculation, they're straight up mackin' it
Spencer has been hiding something from you; his oral fixation. He normally chews his nails or the ends of his pens when he’s nervous, but it doesn't look out of the ordinary for someone as awkward as him. He also tends to be snacking or sucking on a lollipop a lot of the time, but people write that off as him just being hungry or bored.
You’ve been dating for a few months now and he’s been really great about hiding his oral fixation, but it’s getting harder. He had such a strong streak going until last week when you two made out. You had your tongue in his mouth for just a few minutes, but it was enough time for him to become obsessed.
You both jokingly bite each other all the time, but he’s been doing it more often just to have a piece of you in his mouth for even a moment. It’s gotten so bad that he’s considering getting some chewable jewelry, but he knows it wouldn’t have your taste. A mix of your natural sweetness and salt from your sweat and oils, plus whatever food you had been eating. Fuck, he wants your tongue and your hands in his mouth. Scratch that, he’ll suck on whatever you want him to.
You snap your fingers in front of his face, and he realizes that he’s been watching your hands this whole time when he should have been listening to you. He blinks and mumbles an apology. You wave him off and he watches your hand move again. His mouth is watering at the sight.
He watches your rings glint in the soft light of the lamps in the living room and he can’t help but imagine how the metal would mix in with your taste. He swallows the saliva quickly filling his mouth. He feels warmth pool in his lower abdomen.
“Spence? Is everything okay?” You sound so worried. That’s something he loves about you, you’re so patient and nice to him. Your voice sounds so innocent. If only you knew about the lustful thoughts he’s having about your hands.
“Y-yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Keep talking,” he brushes off his own thoughts.
You nod and continue with your story. Something about your coworkers, or whatever. All Spencer could focus on was how you were gesticulating. The movements of your hands are so graceful, like long grass in the wind. He was the kind of kid to eat grass when he was younger.
Later in the day, Spencer has to go home. It’s always a sad goodbye, but you both know that you’ll move in together at some point and the byes are never for long unless he has a mission.
He heads out of your apartment and gets in his car. He makes it halfway back to his place before realizing that he forgot his phone. He obviously can’t text you about it, so he heads back to your apartment. He uses the spare key you gave him to open your door.
Once he’s inside, he hears some whimpering and his stomach drops. His mind rushes through all of the worst-case scenarios. His phone is completely forgotten as he rushes to your bedroom.
He busts the door open only to freeze at the sight in front of him; you, naked, having clearly been masturbating despite your attempts to hide it.
“Spencer! Knock next time,” your face is flushed, obviously embarrassed about being caught.
“Sorry…” he mumbles. He can’t take his eyes off the dildo that is covered in your juices. You hide it behind your back, but his mouth is already watering.
“What are you-”
“Can I suck that?” He blurts out before clamping a hand over his mouth. Now, he’s the one blushing. Despite the humiliation of what he just said, he can feel the arousal burning in his stomach.
“You want to… suck my used dildo?” You don’t sound judgmental, just confused. He nods, his mouth suddenly very dry. “Uhm… at least let me wash it-”
“No!” Spencer winces at his own tone. “I mean, no, you don’t have to wash it,” he swallows hard. “Please, don’t wash it,” he begs. You have a look of realization. All those times you’ve caught him staring at your hands makes sense now. You’ve seen him chewing his nails and pens, but this just confirms your theory of him having an oral fixation.
“Sit down on the bed,” you try ordering him. It works; he immediately sits on the bed. You stand the dildo up between your legs. “Go on,” you command. He obeys.
Spencer leans down and starts sucking the phallic object. He moans at the taste of you on it. His arousal only builds. He bobs his head up and down on it, making himself gag, but he couldn’t be happier that you’re letting him to this.
You place your hand on the back of his head, guiding him on it. His eyes roll back and he groans when you tug his hair. The noises he makes are heavenly, even if they’re muffled. He pops up for air, panting.
“F-fuck,” he whimpers. “I’ve needed this so bad,” his voice is barely above a whisper.
“What else do you want to suck?” Your voice is teasing and it turns him on so much. He feels like he’s burning up.
“Your fingers… your tongue… anything,” he pants out what he wants, desire evident in his tone. You place two fingers in his mouth and he swears he met the creator of the universe. If his mouth wasn’t full, he would thank them.
You thrust your fingers in and out of his mouth, making him gag slightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seems to enjoy it. His moans and groans around your fingers.
You pull them out and he whines at the loss. You throw the dildo off to the side and lay Spencer on top of you. He looks a bit confused until you kiss him. He whimpers into your mouth. His noises only grow louder when you slide your tongue against his.
He grinds against you, getting off on having you tongue-fuck his throat. His lungs need air, but his mind needs more. More pleasure, more things in him, more of you. He suddenly freezes and pulls back, eyes wide. You look concerned.
“What’s wrong, love?” He thinks it’s so sweet that you think you did something wrong, but you didn’t. He whimpers and looks at his pants. You follow his gaze and see a dark, wet spot on the front of his trousers. You nod in understanding. He blushes and whines.
“I-I’m sorry. You just felt so good and you tasted like sweet, sweet ambrosia and I just got carried away,” he babbles. You cup his cheeks.
“Love, there is nothing hotter than you cumming in your pants from us kissing,” you make sure to keep eye contact. He whines at your phrasing.
“Premature ejaculation is most common from 18-30; I’m 32. There’s only a 30% chance that that could happen and of course my body had to choose the exact moment I’m with the most attractive person I’ve ever seen to become a statistic,” he groans and flops onto the bed. You snort at how scientific he has to make everything.
“All I’m hearing is that you think I’m attractive,” you tease. He shoots you a playful glare, still very embarrassed about this whole ordeal. He sighs.
“Now I have to drive home in wet underwear with a huge stain on my pants that my neighbors with definitely see,” he grumbles.
“Or, and this may be the better option, you could spend the night and borrow some of my sleep shorts when you head home tomorrow,” you offer. He looks at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion.
“You… want me to stay? Even after I humiliated myself?” He whispers. You nod.
“Yes, plus I find it hot when guys cum untouched,” you state like it’s the most normal thing in the world. His blush grows.
“O-okay… from the look on your face, I can assume that we’re not going to get much sleep and I should call in sick in the morning?” You nod and flip over to straddle his hips.
That night might go down in history as one of the best nights of his life. The next morning, you end up having to call Hotch to let him know that Spencer’s ‘sick’ on top of calling your own boss and saying the same thing about yourself. Hotch seems a bit confused as to how Spencer got sick, but you work at a hospital, so your charge nurse didn’t even bat an eye at the prospect of you growing ill.
CW: Smut, porn without plot, premature ejaculation, cumming in pants, dry humping, my attraction to top surgery scars is coming through hard
You were in Dean's lap while he was sitting on his bed in the bunker. Your legs are both off his left side and your arms are around his neck. His arms are around your waist. You're both passionately making out. His hands are caressing your sides and your fingers are running through his hair. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft considering his job. He hums against your lips, pulling you closer. You tilt your head, slotting your lips against his better. He pulls back slightly.
"You're pretty good at this for a beginner," he teases, breath brushing against you. You were raised by Bobby after your father died when you were 10. You'd been too scared to date for a few reasons, one of them being Bobby having threatened to kill anyone that touched you. Dean laughed when you told him that, not surprised but not scared either. Having never dated, you've also never kissed anyone. Well, not until now.
Until today, you thought Dean was weirded out by you being trans since he always avoided you and never really spoke about your identity. Turns out he was just incredibly attracted to you, but never knew how to say anything.
Up until he found out, he just thought you were a hot dude. He has a bit of internalized homophobia, so he tried to ignore his growing feelings, but everything came to a head when he saw you step out of the shower for the first time.
He had never seen your body before. Your lower half was covered by a towel, but it was your chest that drew his attention. You had two large scars under your pecs. His mouth started watering. He didn't know how you got those scars, but he did know he wanted you. Badly.
You awkwardly explained that the scars were from top surgery. Then you even more awkwardly explained what top surgery is and that you're trans. To you, Dean was ignorant and maybe a bit dickish. To Dean, his whole world stopped. Trans. You. Everything became more clear and by the gods did that make him want you more.
He couldn't explain it, but not just hearing that you're trans but seeing proof was enough to get him hard as a rock.
You had watched him run off, thinking he thought you were weird. You got bummed and went to your room to take a depression nap.
Little did you know that Dean was jerking off, thinking about everything you two could do together. He got off faster than he ever had before all because of a trans man with a cute face and hot ass scars.
After a few days of neither of you talking, Dean out of shame for how attracted he is to a man, you out of fear of judgment, Sam pulled Dean aside.
He told Dean that you had been in your room for the past few days and that you probably think he hates you. Dean's breath hitched and he quickly explained to Sam that he just didn't know you were trans. He was just caught off guard and didn't know how to respond. Sam told him that he had to make things right.
That's how you ended up here, with Dean's tongue in your mouth and his hands touching you everywhere he can. Neither of you are rushing because you're a virgin and Dean doesn't wanna hurt you or scare you off.
His hands move under your shirt and his fingers brush your scars. He stifles a groan and you feel something poke you through his pants.
You may be a virgin, but you're not an idiot or nearly as innocent as Bobby and the brothers think you are. You know exactly how Dean's body is reacting to you. It makes you blush a little.
Dean moves his kisses down your jaw to your neck. You gasp a little when he sucks on your collarbone.
You cling onto him, not knowing what to do. He feels you tense up, so he pulls away a bit.
"Hey, we don't have to do anything right now," he murmurs, hands moving to a more neutral spot on your hips. You shake your head.
"No, I-I want to… I just don't know what to do…" you whisper. Dean nods, understanding. It's not his first time having sex, but it is his first time with a man, so he's also a bit nervous. But he knows you need him to take the lead, at least for right now. Once you get comfortable, there's nothing he wants more than for you to ravage him.
"Yeah, hun. Don't worry. Just let me take care of you, okay?" You nod. He shifts you so that you're straddling him. You feel his hard-on pressing into your core through both of you guys' pants. You feel yourself leak into your boxers.
Dean gently grabs your hips, moving them against his lap. Your crotch rubs against his bulge and you both groan. You bury your face in his neck. Sure, you've masturbated before, but it's never felt this good and you've never done it with someone.
He moves you slow before your hips start bucking on their own. He grunts and groans, still trying to sound 'manly', but failing slightly when he accidentally lets a whimper slip when you rub his cock just right.
"F-fuck… baby, just like that…" He pants. His hands slip back under your shirt to touch your scars again. He swears he's in heaven when he feels the raised skin under his fingertips. He suddenly grabs your hips, holding them still.
"What?.. Is something wrong?" You lift your head up to see his face. It's bright red and his pupils are blown.
"Wrong? N-no, nothing's wrong, baby… Just need a break for a second," he tries to play it off, but you can tell something's happened. He's panting and there's almost tears in his eyes. You cup his cheek.
"What happened?" You ask. He can't take the look on your face. A perfect mix of concern and love, coming together to create the most adorable puppy dog eyes.
"I…" He starts, voice cracking. "I almost… you know…" He whispers. It clicks in your mind. He almost came in his pants from touching your top surgery scars. He finds them so hot that he can get off not even at the sight, but the feeling of them. You nod, even more aroused than before.
"Sh-should we wait or…" You trail off, looking at the rest of his bed.
"Wait… maybe… just for a bit, but… fuck, baby. I gotta see 'em," he practically begs. You chew your lip before nodding and lifting your shirt.
Dean gives up on being subtle and outright moans at the sight of your scars. He helps you take your shirt off before cupping your cheeks and staring straight into your eyes.
"When we're together, never cover these up." Not a command, more a plea. It's like he needs to see your scars. Needs to see proof of your joy as a trans person. You nod and he kisses you with more fervor.
He trails his lips down, down, down until they reach your scars. He licks and kisses the marred skin, letting out moans and groans. His hips start bucking without his input.
Suddenly, he lets out a strangled whimper and his whole body tenses. His hips buck a few more times, completely out of control. He holds you tight, face buried in your chest. He's quiet for a moment before muttering,
"Like a fucking teenager…"
You let out a soft laugh before kissing the top of his head. You know what happened. Of course you did. For a moment, Dean wished you knew nothing about sex or anything to do with it. His face burned with embarrassment. You don't tease him and somehow that makes it worse. You're so nice to him, too nice. He just humiliated himself by cumming untouched and you're just holding him gently and kissing his temples. Then, almost as if you can read his mind, you speak.
"Honestly, it's kinda hot. I'm glad you like them," your voice is laced with affection and he hopes he's not hallucinating the arousal. He peeks up at you and the look in your eyes makes his cock twitch back to life.
"Can… we go again? I wanna make it up to you…" His voice is so soft you almost missed it. You've never heard him so submissive before, but something deep inside you loves it.
You and Dean are snuggled together in his room in the bunker watching Scooby-Doo. You're half asleep, laying on his chest. You have a small, sleepy smile on your face, mostly watching Dean's reactions to the show. He's laughing at every joke and just generally looks more relaxed than he's been in a while.
You lean into him a bit more. He kisses the top of you head before going back to watching Shaggy and Scooby run away from the 'ghost' that's probably just gonna end up being a landlord. You break your silence, voice a bit deeper due to how relaxed you are. You've been on testosterone for nearly a year, so your voice is deeper than before.
"Remember when you told that cop you thought you were adorable? It was during that case after you picked Sam up from college…" You murmur, pressing your face into Dean's neck. He pauses mid-laugh at something Shaggy said, thinking.
"Uhm… I guess? You can't expect me to remember everything I say, sweets," he tries to play off his confusion as to why you're bringing this up now.
"Mm.. He asked you if you thought you were funny… You said you were adorable… You were right," you slur against his skin, drifting further into unconsciousness. Dean's breath hitches. By now, he should be used to you randomly complimenting him, but he's not. He's not sure he'll ever be. He remembers that day. He was just messing with the cop to buy himself some time to think up how to escape. He didn't really mean what he said. Sure, he know's he's hot, but adorable? Not so much. And he definitely wasn't expecting you to agree with a split second one-liner he came up with to make fun of someone.
Before he can ask you how you even remember that stuff, he can feel your breathing even out against him. He pulls you closer on instinct.
"I was right…" He whispers to himself, like he's trying to comprehend that someone as sweet as you called him adorable.
Eventually, he falls asleep with you still in his arms. A regular occurrence. You rarely spend the night in your room anymore. It started one night with him calling you into his room after a nightmare. You never asked what it was about, but you can assume he dreamt about you dying with how tight he held you that night. The morning after, he looked much more well rested than you'd seen him before. Thus starting the trend of you sleeping all snuggled up together.
If Sam ever asks, it's just manly cuddling between friends. Dean still isn't super open about his affection for you or his sexuality. Neither of you have a label on what you have, but you do know that Dean has stopped flirting with people unless it's for a case. Even then, he always showers you with affection after. He knows you know that his flirting doesn't lead anywhere anymore, but he still feels bad about it. He doesn't let himself cry often, but the first time someone kissed him after you two started your thing, he held you until he knew you were asleep before letting a few tears free.
In the morning, he stirs before you despite him having fallen asleep after you did. He rarely gets more sleep than you. You do get him to take naps with you during the day if there's not a hunt. He's stopped getting up early because he never wants to wake you up. Even if there's a hunt, he's extra careful to not disturb your slumber.
Today, there's no hunt — at least, not yet — so he just pulls you against him since you drifted apart a little during the night. There's not much room on his bed, so you can't ever be not touching, but he still wants you to be as close as possible. The bunker regulates the temperature, so neither of you are ever too hot unless you have a hot flash from T. In those cases, you lay on the cold floor until it's over and you can go back to your cuddles. He finds it funny, but he knows not to laugh lest he incur your wrath.
You slowly wake up, burrowing your face into his chest in that way the makes his heart melt just a bit more every time. He runs his fingers through your hair making you shiver a little and hum softly.
"Good morning," you murmur.
"Mornin', sweetheart," he mumbles into your temple, kissing the spot gently. You lean your head up to kiss his jaw. The funny part is that you're about an inch taller than him, so in order to be chest height with him, your feet are out of the blanket a little. Sometimes it's nice to feel small, even at the cost of warm toes.
"Do I have to get up?" You ask, voice heavy with sleep. He smiles and shakes his head.
"Not for a while," Dean responds softly. Only you get to see this side of him. Not the harsh hunter or dickish older brother of Sam, but just Dean. Just the man. The one that likes nerdy references, the one that likes memory foam mattresses, and the one hopelessly soft for you.
"Mm… Breakfast?" He lets out a soft snort.
"In a bit, baby," he rubs you back a little, pressing a bit harder where he knows you're tense. You hum. He's definitely an acts of service guy. Even when relaxing, he's helping you out.
He pauses for a second, remembering the conversation you two had the night before. He wonders if you remember too.
"Hey… About last night," he starts, not sure where he's going with this. Dean Winchester is a lot of things, but good with emotions? Not really.
"You're wondering why I called you adorable?" You finish his thought. Times like these make him wonder if you're a mind reader like Missouri.
"Uh… Yeah…" He mumbles.
"Because it's true. You may be a hunter, but you're also a cutie. Two things can be true," you state like you didn't just blast through his whole 'tough guy' facade while half asleep. Deep down, he knows he's not the same hardass as his dad, but it's hard for him to come to terms with it.
"'M not cute…" He grumbles half-heartedly.
"Mhm, and what's your favorite show?" You tease. It's no secret that he loves Scooby-Doo. Dean huffs instead of responding, knowing how he acts when the show is running. You kiss his cheek making him blush a little.
Dean just pulls you against him, burying his face in your hair. He mutters something incoherent, probably defending Scooby-Doo. You smile softly.
Yeah, he was definitely right.
My first fic here. I'm on ao3 as BonesCorps. I will be posting more on both platforms. If you see any of my fics on anything other than these two accounts, please report. Feel free to send asks for fics.
leon, who has a crush on you but refuses to admit that he has a crush on someone as a full grown man, who brings you breakfast each morning because you always have a sour look on your face when you get a stomachache from having nothing but a coffee.
leon who passes by your office to "ask you a question about this report," sees that your mug is running low, and makes you another coffee without asking, just the way you like it.
leon who waits for you at the end of the day, even if he's supposed to have gone home hours ago, just so he can walk you to your car. because the smile you give him when you say thank you is what gets him up and into the office each morning. and maybe he's hoping that one day he'll have enough courage to meet it with a kiss.
the s stands for service. leon [acts of] service kennedy
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