Riding early seasons!Spencer as he’s rambling, but keeps interrupting himself with whimpers and curses!!!!!!!!!!!!
DOUBLE IT AND GIVE IT TO ME!!!!😻😻😻😻😻😻😻
mmm thank you anon... been a minute since i spence posted... which is absolutely a crime that needs to be fixed immediately!! rambling spence??? is so fucking hot??? fucking that nerd??? would kill me???
running your hands down his chest, cotton fabric snagging on his sensitive perky nipples with each brush of your palm. nails teasing his scalp, fingers twirling around his chestnut curls... fuckkk!!!! asking him to repeat what he had said with a slight cock of your head, teasing yet obviously very intrigued. "hmm? can you repeat that for me, spencer?"
spencer is genuinely at a loss for words, a rare phenomenon that seems to only occur in your presence, particularly when your hips are grinding into his while he is oh so incredibly turned on... spencer can barely breathe, cheeks flushed and breath shaking as he musters up all his strength to manage a reply, "i-uh.. ffuck-"
of course, you don't give him any time to properly articulate his sentence, no, you're far too busy unzipping his trousers and slipping sneaky fingers into his boxers. you kiss and nip at spencer's neck as you lower yourself onto his painfully hard length, soft walls sucking every thought out of his pretty head, reducing him to incoherent babbles and whimpers. "what's wrong puppy? cat got your tongue?"
we all know im such a fucking loser for puppy boy spence... add black cat reader to the mix and i might as well be dead!
warnings: literal porn… don’t like? don’t click !! all links are from twitter (you must be logged in to view them)
includes: spencer reid, aaron hotchner, and emily prentiss (jj mention!)
spencer reid !
grinding on spence until he makes a sticky mess of his boxers
spencer loves looking up at you for approval while he eats you out
spencer loves your thighs
talking glasses! spencer thru his first time
giving spence a pussy job
spencer loves giving your pretty cunt soft kisses
aaron hotchner !
fucking aaron in the backseat during a painfully boring stake out
lazy late nights where you do all the work for poor burnt out aaron
“you just couldn’t wait until we got home”
aaron likes to tease you thru your panties
aaron hotchner has a size kink
he’s big, but you can take it
emily prentiss !
emily loves scissoring her clit against yours
emily can’t help but tease your wet pussy and sensitive nipples
emily breeding you with her thick strap
emily punishes you when you’ve been naughty
taking emily’s strap nice and slow
emily eats your pussy like a starved woman
letting jemily take care of you
got bored and decided to post something (freakishly) different 😛😛😛 currently slowly working on a fluffy jj fic that should be out sometime this week! love you all🍓🩵
early seasons spence when they dryhump for the first time... but her panties are pushed to the side and he's just right there and shes so wet that he just... slips in????
BOOM unlocks the most wild breeding kink in him, begging her to let him fill her up, whimpering and panting about it the entire time (2 minutes max, he is NOOTTTTT lasting) and shes encouraging him the entire time??
UMMMMM YESYESYES IM LISTENING LOUD AND CLEAR WTFFFF!!! i fear you all know me well enough atp to understand the squeal that escaped me when i read this ask!!!
early seasons spence with zero pull out game who nuts in five seconds… my dearest love🩵
he’s just soooooo pathetic:((( already rock hard and dripping even before the first low roll of your hips!!! he’s whimpering and whining like a puppy!!! its!!! pitiful really!!! URGHHH!!!!
his tip repeatedly bumping against ur swollen clit is enough to send him over the edge really, anything you do could make him finish in less than five minutes… but when he can feel how soaked you are??? dripping all over his length??? he almost loses himself,,,
one tinsy…tiny… seemingly insignificant grind of his hips and his cock just slips past your slit…. and he’s fully sheathed inside of you???? youre so wet!!! it happens so quickly he doesn’t even realize whats happening until he feels how tightly your gummy walls are squeezing him:((( and all of the sudden (if possible) his moans get a hundred times louder!!!
AND EGGING HIM ONNNN OH GOD YES PUHLEASE!!! im an avid “good boy” spence enjoyer so i know this is very overused on here but don’t jump me…
“feels so good, yeah? you’re gonna be a good boy and fill me up? hmm? gonna make a mess deep inside me??”
he’s so stupid and braindead his little “yesyesyesyes” barely make it past his lips… drowned out by every pathetic whine!!!
mmmm something abt spence w a breeding kink is just so… yes!!! cuz we KNOW he’s a disgusting little freak… but the thing is like he knows every single caution, he knows every danger, every statistic, esppp if you’re not on the pill… but you just feel too good:((( he can’t help himself:(((( AHHHH I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH BRUHHH
sorry for the lack of updates im just so tragically behind with kinktober… don’t hate me💔💔💔🥀 im tryna focus on wrapping up intros and actually getting into the prompts…
spencer reid can't help but hold your hand while he eats you out
spencer reid has never felt a touch quite as sanctifying as yours. his hands on you, yours on him, it set his core ablaze and sent his mind spiraling into the clouds.
he'd never been this close with anyone, this raw—intimate in a way that felt as though he allowed the sparks of your finger tips to slip behind his supple flesh and eviscerate his soul.
spencer was touch starved, so to speak, prior to you. he was foolish, harbouring a paralyzing aversion to something he was now ravenous for. if past him only knew that touch was something far, far more than a transfer of pathogens, simply transactional.
touch had become something that could never truly fill him, something that made his stomach swarm in a gluttonous guilt, something that he would always crawl back to.
he'd lay behind you tracing lazy shapes onto the fabric of your sweater, letting his hungry digits snag on the warmth of the texture, the warmth of you below it.
he'd slide his hands under the cloth, not to tease, just to feel. your breath inhaling and exhaling in his palm, examining the rise of your ribs with the percision of a physician, not allowing a single expansion to slip past his inspection.
spencer would absorb you through your flesh, as if your light reset him in some way, rejuvenating his spirit via skin to skin contact—mending him in that curative way only you were capable of.
and now here he lay, beneath you, where he knew he should be—your soft thighs caging his cheeks in a comforting pressure only you could create. his heaven on earth.
he watched as you writhed against pale sheets, the sheen of your skin illuminating in the natural light, an ethereal glow that starkly contrasted the dull air surronding you, a permanent halo.
he analyzed every twitch of your torso, his ears perked at every groan that bellowed in the pit of your core, he smelt the primal heat of your essence before him. how easy it was for spencer to lose himself in you.
he gripped onto the fat of your flesh, as if you were a dream that would vanish the second he dared to think of letting go. his touch burned so perfectly, boring deep into your skin in practiced familiarity, you would revert back to this moment each time you saw the evidence, spencer's signature branded to his muse.
you threw your head back, hips rolling to an uneven rhythm, as spencer felt the irregular beat of your heart on his tongue, the slick of your adoration nourishing him in a way nothing else could. it was too much, overwhelming in a way that threw your soul out of orbit, spencer saw stars in your eyes.
it struck you then, his palm raised, flat against yours, slotting perfectly where it belonged. warmth radiated up your spine, grounding you on the cusp of your high, pulling your mind back into your body so you could feel, really feel, every slip of a figure eight spencer curated, poetry receited on your most sensitive cluster of nerves.
"i love you" spoken wordlessly with his eyes as he watched your dazed expression return back to earth. you, his very own angel blessing him with your presence. the greatest honour bestowed upon him was to hold your hand in his.
written in the app so plz ignore any like formatting or grammatical errors its 1:35am and im sleepy turned on (dangerous combo) anyway spencer’s love is 150% this disgustingly devout. im so stupidly horny and in love with him i need to order 14 more of these right now. help! my pussy is sobbing!!!!
also i saw this exact like concept in a porn clip like a year ago and was foolish enough to LOSE IT? i genuinely have not been the same since that day. if someone can find a link i will genuinely kiss you on the mouth please do not be afraid to send me any similar video links im so deadass i need this. i think about it all the time. its all i want. please. thank you love you bye !!
in which: a domestic nightly routine gets sidetracked far too easily. in simple terms, pretty boy has pretty hands and an even prettier voice.
spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT, servicesub!spence, softdom!reader, glasses spencer!!, (fogging up said glasses), a little hand+voice kink hehehe, tiny little bit of boob play, fingering, kissing, biting! licking!, sososo much praise, thigh humping + cumming in pants i am only a woman…, no use of y/n + lower case intended, disgustingly lovey dovey i need this man..
wc: 2.9k
now playing: air - le soleil est près de moi
spencer reid masterlist
(anywhere, i want you)
nights like these were something special, something made to be cherished, to be held close to the heart and never let go.
nights like these were rare.
nights when everything was simple, quiet in that perfectly content bliss, moments strung together in harmonious comfort, as if they were always meant to be.
tonight, spencer was home. he wasn’t that sluggish type of exhausted that made your heart ache as you held his drained cheeks in your hands. he hadn’t returned to you in mismatched pieces at an odd hour, borderlining early morning, face crashing into soft sheets before you can properly greet him.
no, he was here with you now, during a warm evening shared between the two of you, a comfort blessed in its infrequency. and he was solely yours.
when you managed to snag a night like this, a night with no distractions, no work calls, and no deepset eyes begging for sleep—the routine always followed the same steady rhythm.
you, curled up on the couch, leaning on spencer’s cardigan clad shoulder with a quilt pulled over your knees. and spencer, bending into your warmth, fingers dragging along aged paper as he read to you, free hand absentmindedly carding through your hair.
acts of loving domesticity that not even the most profound romance film could pull off.
nothing, not even the act of a divine astral being could ruin this perfect moment, nothing could tear apart this beautiful night, purity unequaled by any other. nothing.
except maybe you.
you watched as the pads of spencers long fingers skimmed across pages in mere seconds, comprehending text many times faster than you could ever dream of accomplishing–yet his voice was slow and steady, warm in that gentle way that made your cheeks burn.
he coasted through words at an astonishing pace, just so he could look at your face as he repeated them for you, feeding your ears poetry with the voice of an angel.
your eyes danced across his features, jumping from his veined hands and smooth nail beds, up to the soft curve of his sculpted nose. your gaze dragged from his plush pink lips to his black half frames, rising to his messy hazelnut locks.
every once in a while your eyes would meet, he would smile softly and study every freckle adorning your skin, warm gaze soaking up every blemish with a grateful care.
you tried not to scream. you could feel your pulse in your neck, rapidly drumming against your throat. you were sure spencer could feel it too.
you felt a deep guilt build in the pit of your stomach, along with something else, something hotter, and burning infinitely brighter.
spencer reid was skilled in many fields, wielding three phds, reading twenty thousand words per minute, honouring an iq of a genius, among other things.
on top of all this, he was particularly efficient in reducing you to a sopping mess of a woman in thirty seconds flat.
you closed your eyes, distracting yourself with the dark shapes that decorated your view when you squeezed them shut. anything to take your mind off the impending pressure in your core.
but that voice. it was one you couldn’t fathom tuning out—so pretty it was impossible to ignore.
your greatest pleasure would also become your greatest downfall.
spencer, the ever attentive boyfriend and profiler, clocked your change in behaviour immediately.
if you weren’t so proud of him you’d be seething, cursing out behavioural sciences for embarrassing you during a rare intimate moment. revealing your true colours, a pervert of a woman who got turned on by practically anything.
sorry, practically anything involving the puppy eyed boy currently tilting his head in your direction.
spencer’s reading slowed to a halt—your last chance at salvation cut short as he replaced the soothing rhythm of his words with a rather annoying inquiry.
“is something wrong sweet girl?”
did he have any idea how disarmingly perfect he was? you blinked a few times before brushing off his concerns.
“i’m fine, just a little tired, maybe we should go to bed?”
“it’s barely nine o'clock."
right. you should’ve put more thought into that. an attempt at thwarting the trajectory of this conversation proved itself useless as it bit you in the behind.
“right. sorry. i guess i’m a bit distracted.”
spencer smiled as he closed the book in his lap, hard cover flipping shut with a soft thud as he placed it on the coffee table, now accompanying two empty mugs.
“something on your mind?”
you bit your lip and shied away, this really wasn’t the time for your mind to twist such an innocent moment into something dirty. you wanted him, desperately. but you knew better than to launch yourself onto him during the one moment he can catch a break. you were sure you could manage to hold back.
“no… nothing in particular."
spencer shook his head an sighed,
“i know you’re lying, you have a tell,”
he curled his fingers around the shell of your ear, leading your gaze to meet his.
“you always avoid eye contact when you’re lying.”
“please don’t profile me spence.”
you looked away from him, the throw pillow behind his back, the bookshelf to his left, the plant in your peripheral. anything to not focus on the way his palm felt on your flushed cheek.
“i just want to know what’s bothering my girl.”
that broke you. the casual warmth bestowing you with such a claiming title. you were his. and he was yours.
you felt your resolve crumble as you met those beautifully glossy hazel eyes, golden rims circling his growing pupils as he met your gaze.
spencer reid was also mentionably skilled in making you fold under very little pressure.
you sighed as the innocent act suppressing your desires was fizzled out of your body, your true needs now taking the reins. thoughts of holding back dissipating in less than forty-five seconds.
you ran a hand up his chest, rubbing the knitted fabric of his cardigan in slow, heavy circles.
when you looked up at him this time, your eyes had changed, now weighted with the extent of your sin.
“do you know what you do to me spence? my pretty boy?”
it was like a switch flipped in his brain, still completely mesmerized by you, but now in an entirely different light.
spencer simply shook his head, eyes fluttering to a close as your lips met his. the kiss started soft, as it always did between you. small pecks blooming into an intoxicated pace, lips melding together in complete sync, as if they were made solely to kiss each other.
you moved in a steady rhythm, still gentle and warm as spencer pulled your chest flush against his, needing to feel you as close as possible. he wished he could fuse himself to your skin and never let you go.
spencer’s lips chased yours as you pulled away, mouth curling into a pathetic pout, expression mirroring that of a puppy so perfectly you almost lost it.
chuckling, you tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, your hand brushing the frames of his glasses in its descent.
“love your hands, and your voice, and your hair.”
you paused only to cup his cheeks in your palms, toasty and dusted with a rosy flush from your kiss, and your unrelenting praise.
“and your lips, your nose, your eyes,”
you brought your face closer to his.
“i love this cheek,”
your lips pecked his left cheek with a hum, squishing his face delicately between your hands.
“and this one too.”
your nose brushed against his right cheek, spencer could feel your teeth smiling against his heated skin.
now it was his turn to shy away from your grasp, slotting his face in the curve of your neck, a futile attempt at hiding how brightly his cheeks burned.
“stop it…”
you giggled as you pet his hair, hugging his body close to yours as you rocked rhythmically from side to side, mimicking that of a pendulum—with just slightly less coordination and certainly, significantly more care.
“you know you also have a tell, spencer. you get all red–are you feeling shy?”
you swore you could feel his cheeks growing hotter at your words.
“yes… ‘m sorry. i love you too. so much.”
spencer sighed as he breathed in your scent, burying his face deeper into the crook of your shoulder, his nose poking at your collarbone. you shivered at the warmth of his breath on your skin, before bringing his face up to meet yours, cheek pressing against his.
“you love me hmm?”
you teased, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear.
“do you want to show me just how much you love me?”
spencer wasted no time with his reply.
“please. i want you all the time.”
his eyes met yours as he looked up at you for approval, hands finding their way to the scorching skin of your waist beneath the cotton of your shirt. a nod from you was all he needed, his touch reverent against your ribs as his fingers traveled upwards.
spencer’s lips found yours, kissing you with an unmatched fervor, his mouth a devotion against your own as he palmed your hardened nipples from under your shirt, the outline of his worship prominent under the fabric, and admittedly, also twitching against the crotch of his flannel pyjama pants.
you pulled away from him, with a gloss of spit connecting your breath, spencer gasped as the line snapped beneath the tension. he looked unbelievable. bewitching you with his effortless beauty. his swollen lips were glossed, sheened over with a mix of your saliva and his. his glasses were fogged over, smudges decorating his lenses with evidence of your proximity. you needed him. biblically. immediately.
“spence, want your fingers.”
you cupped his hand over the print it was making, skin separated only by cloth, you could still feel the heat radiating off his skin despite the barrier. spencer only nodded at your request, dazed in your presence, in your beauty. he’d do anything you asked him to. he wouldn’t think twice before moving mountains, solely because you requested he do so. his love for you was wholeheartedly devout, and he wanted–no, needed to make sure you could never forget that. not that you’d ever be able to.
his hands slipped from cupping the peaks of your chest, you barely had time to shiver in the lack of his warmth before his fingers were slipping into the waistband of your sweats, hooking underneath the band of your cotton panties, waiting for your go-ahead.
when you nodded, spencer eagerly pulled both down in one fell swoop, aided by the lift of your hips, he worked the garments off of you, pausing only to fold them, laying each piece on the coffee table with utmost care. because of course he would. he would be the death of you.
you gave spencer’s shoulder a light push, causing him to lean back on the cushioned armrest of the couch, you followed suit, falling into his touch as his arms engulfed your frame.
spencer’s hands wasted no time, travelling between your thighs with the comfort of practiced familiarity, falling into place as you spread your leg over his lap. thigh digging into his agonizingly hard erection, ripping a whiny sob from the base of his throat, tone so pitchy it almost sounded painful.
it could’ve been, for all you knew, but spencer truly couldn’t find it in him to care, his thoughts were filled exclusively by you, circling his brain in a melodic repetition he could never get tired of. his pleasure was found in pleasing you.
greedy hands slipped in the valley between your legs, deft fingers collecting fat globs of your slick, grazing your slit, soaking you up in the way your shoulders shivered and your lip curled under your teeth.
spencer brought his fingers to his swollen lips, he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling back, tasting your saccharine adoration on his tongue, wetness for him and him only. with a light buck of your hips, wordlessly begging for his return, his digits dove back in, tracing your slit with a delicacy reserved for only you, mapping every fold with the same adoration he reserved for ancient texts and sacred verses.
you whimpered against his throat, the vibration of your needy sounds traveling straight through his collarbones and down to where his heart hammered against his ribs. he carefully slipped two fingers past the threshold of your core, grinding his palm against the hood of your clit as he worked up a steady rhythm.
your mouth found the column of his neck, teeth grazing the tendon there with just enough pressure to make him gasp, his fingers stuttering against your wetness before finding their flow again. you sucked at the skin, marking him in dark purple blooms that stood out stark against his pale complexion, claiming him visibly in ways that made your stomach flutter with possessive pride.
"god, spence,"
you mumbled against his jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sharp angle there, feeling how his stubble scratched deliciously against your swollen lips.
"so good. f’me"
he whined at that, high and broken, his hips jerking upward involuntarily as his cock strained against the soft flannel of his pyjama pants. the fabric was doing nothing to hide how desperately hard he was.
"tell me,"
he breathed, voice cracking as he curled his fingers inside you, finding that spot that made your vision blur at the edges.
"tell me i'm doing good, please—please tell me i'm doing good."
your heart clenched at the desperation in his tone, at the way he looked at you with those wide, glossy eyes behind lenses that were continuing to fog at the edges. streaks from your earlier kisses dotted the glass, fingerprints and smears of lip balm clouding his vision in the most obscene way, making him look thoroughly wrecked.
"you're doing so good, baby. so perfect, spence. look at you."
you praised, dragging your tongue along his jawline before nipping at his earlobe.
he made a sound like he was breaking apart, his hips rutting against your thigh with increasing urgency as the elegant pads of his fingers worked on that sensitive spongey spot inside of you, igniting your core. the drag of his clothed dick against your bare skin was filthy, desperate thrusts soaking through thin material until you could feel the heat of him branding your leg.
"tell me you love me. tell me, god, please—need to hear it."
he begged, words tumbling out in a rush as his thumb found your clit, circling with practiced precision that had you arching against him.
"i love you,"
you gasped, sinking your teeth into the junction of his neck and shoulder, leaving another dark mark as he cried out beneath you.
"i love you so much, spencer. my perfect boy. so good to me."
his glasses had slipped down his nose, completely fogged over now, frames crooked against his flushed skin. he couldn't see properly through them anymore but he didn't dare move to fix them, too consumed with the task of unraveling you completely, of memorizing every flutter of your eyelashes and every hitch in your breath.
your hand found his hair, tangling in those messy hazelnut locks and pulling just hard enough to make him moan, his hips stuttering against your thigh in erratic thrusts that told you he was close.
his fingers inside you never faltered, curling and pressing and stroking with a single-minded devotion that had you teetering on the edge, your own hips rocking against his palm in desperate search of friction.
"can feel you. you're so close, aren't you? want to feel you come apart, want to make you feel good."
he panted, his forehead falling against your shoulder as his movements became jerky, uncoordinated, overwhelmed.
"spence, i’m–"
you warned, your voice strained as you clung to him, your free hand gripping his shoulder hard enough to leave crescent moons in his skin.
you shattered with a cry, swallowing spencer’s lips with a kiss, your body convulsing around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. your hips grinded through your high, thighs shaking with the aftershocks.
the sight of you undone undid him in return. with a final, desperate grind against your thigh and a choked sob of your name, he came, his hips jerking in tight spasms as warmth flooded his pants, wetting the flannel in a mess that spread rapidly, obscene and filthy and perfect.
"oh god, i—i made a mess, i'm sorry, i—"
he whimpered, his face buried in your neck, glasses askew and in complete disarray, skin flushed deep crimson.
"you were perfect. look at me, spence."
you soothed, your voice wrecked but tender as you ran your fingers through his hair, holding him close as he trembled against you.
he lifted his head, blinking behind those crooked lenses, his eyes blown wide and hazy with adoration and post-coital bliss. you reached up to adjust his glasses, your thumb gently wiping at the smudges before you kissed him, slow and deep and full of everything you felt for him.
"so perfect,"
you whispered against his lips, feeling him smile, feeling his heart still racing against your chest.
"my perfect pretty boy."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
oh hey guys. i havent written an actual smut fic in a million years!2!!2! was this fic inspired by the pinterest quote in the theme + a twitter video? yes it was. i will admit to that. anywayyy im so tired because i always hit such a crazy plateau when im writing and spend literally hours making zero progress… but shes done! yay! its 4am and im finally going to sleep… love you all sm!
needing some whiny early seasons spencer hcs rn… PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE
hey so fun fact i actually live and breathe for sensitive whiny spence!!
just silly hcs of mine not proofread plus lots of “:((((“ bc hes so pathetic!!! im gonna eat him!! what!
early seasons spence! who literally cums in his pants the first time you make out:((( RAHHH hes so shy and inexperienced that he doesn’t know how to react when ur tongue slips past his lips.. ur basically eating his face off, swapping spit like its the last thing you’ll do..its all hot and wet and slimy!! and hes soooo into it!! (hes loud enough to prove that) so into it that when u reluctantly pull away for air and he sees ur dazed expression, swollen lips, and the string of spit connecting the two of u he snaps!! u think hes rubbing one out when he excuses himself to the bathroom but hes actually cleaning the gooey sticky mess out of his boxers:((
early seasons spence! who is LOUD. loud and whiny as fuck.. especially when hes needy. you’d be surprised how horny and freaked out he gets when it comes to u… doesn’t matter how busy you are or how important what ur doing is,,, hes giving u doe eyes and whining like a sad puppy!! (hes such a puppy boy im screaming..) hes (not so) silently begging for ur touch… pawing at your thigh and rubbing his head on ur lap… of course eventually he gets needy enough to start verbally begging,, so far gone hes not even embarrassed at how pathetic he sounds—and doesn’t even realize hes humping your leg… “please please i swear i’ll be quick—god.. please..please.” (and how could you say no?)
early seasons spence! who has the weakest pull out game on the planet… the first time you say you want it raw??? hes GONE!!! FINISHED!!! the most highpitched and whiny praises u have ever heard are falling past his lips—rapid fire.. this man does not shut up when ur going at it!! and when ur walls are sucking his dick up all snuggly??? like a fucking glove??? hes done.. he doesn’t even try to pull out!! he can’t!! his hips are stuttering as he’s grinding into u at an inhumane pace.. chasing his release like a madman:(( the sound of ur voice is the final push…“oh you’re gonna cum for me? yeah? you’re gonna fill me up to the brim??” anddd hes absolutely wrecked… nearly passing out at the sight of his load spilling out of your pretty cunt:(((
early seasons spence! who lovesssss when ur on top of him… grinding down on him bc ur both too desperate and needy to undress:(( the rolls of ur hips r slow and calculated.. writhing in the friction of fabric on fabric.. and poor spencies head is lolling to the side, eyes blown out, reduced to nothing but a blubbering, whimpering mess underneath u… hes so whipped, eyes rolling back into his big bright brain with every low roll of your core against his!! his whines r deafening.. and ur soaking up every moan that escapes past his perfectly pink lips,,, nipping and sucking at sensitive skin of his neck thats exposed when he throws his head back in pleasure at ur movements…. whiny spencer lovesss dryhumping (i love dryhumping… in my mind so does spence… what i say goes this is my acc^_^…)
munch!mel headcannons… warnings + notes: ib THE mel writer @melomani3 (genuinely obsessed with her works), twt visual link, softdom mel my love, overstim, puppy mel sneaks whoops, glimpse of cocky mel (needthat), hint of somno kinda, oral fixation, fidgeting, a little teasing, tears… yum, she’s a little oblivious, wrote this horny as hell sorry in advance…
• . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. •
munch!mel who only needs one thing after a long shift. sad puppy eyes silently begging before shes even through the door—if it were up to her she’d take you right there on the floor, shoes tied, jacket on. you’re the only thing that makes her feel stable, her light at the end of the tunnel when everything surrounding her feels dark. she’s eternally grateful for you, and when her gratitude manifests itself physically, your body is a shell of pleasure as burning hot overstimulation takes over. you’re left desperately trying to free your hips from her iron grip—clit swollen and puffy, thighs trembling, chest heaving, eyes so tired you’re fighting sleep with every fibre of your being, having already dozed off once or twice. you can barely meet her gaze, or even make out her features through your teary eyes. but you can feel her next words before the taste of them leaves her pink lips. “you can give me one more, can’t you? please?”
munch!mel who can’t suppress the cocky smile on her lips as she tilts her head, asking if you want her fingers while teasing your sopping slit. the question is practically rhetorical, she knows what you want, she can feel it in the way your clit pulses on her tongue, see it in the curve of your back as it arches off her sheets, but she asks anyway. partly for reassurance, partly to tease you, mostly to soak up the desperate look on your face as you bite your lip and frantically nod, thoughts swirling around your brain so fast you’re dizzy with pleasure, with her, with the way she drags her teeth against your thigh and whispers that she needs you to use your words. it takes you a minute, your hips thrusting into the air, desperate for contact, tear stained cheeks burning in your desperation, throat dry from the almost pained moans mel drags out of you. when you finally manage to articulate what she needs to hear, she’s back on you in a second, driving you towards the edge so quickly your body reacts before your mind can manage to catch up.
munch!mel who doesn’t even realize how much her touch affects you. she loves having her hands on you, always, skin on skin, hand in hand, whatever she can manage. nails running across your scalp, pads of her fingers slotting between the beads of your bracelets, skilled digits toying with the drawstring of your sleep shorts. for her its a mindless act she does to ground herself, for you, its torture not to just beg her to fuck you already. mel has worked you all the way up the wall in a mere matter of minutes, you’re dizzy with want and she only hums in acknowledgment when you adjust your position beside her on the couch for what feels like the hundredth time—she’s oblivious to the dirty thoughts that have taken over your brain, to the way you have to physically stop yourself from closing your legs around her wrist and humping her hand like a dog in heat. when her mouth graze your shoulder and you can feel her tongue between her soft pink lips you’re done for, unable to hold back the moan that rips from your throat. you look up at her, teary eyed, sweating, desperate for her touch, “mel please—god, need you—“. she’ll never deny your pleas, no matter how confused she is on where exactly they came from.
to expand on that thought, munch!mel who isnt even aware of her oral fixation until she has you crying, hands tangled in her hair and pushing her further between your thighs, begging her to stop teasing you. she hadn’t even been aware she was in the first place, she just couldn’t get enough of the way your soft skin felt on her tongue, kissing licking, softly nibbling everywhere except where you needed to feel her most! she could only apologize before straightening her self out, applying soft kitten licks to your pulsing clit. though little did she know, you could feel the pattern to which she tasted you with, repeating the same ministrations in a way that gave her just as much pleasure as it gave you. soothing herself, high on you!
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oh hey guys… my obsession with this pretty autistic lesbian has gotten far too concerning. need her desperately and biblically. okay. yes i will start writing for her effective immediately. thank you. and also hi this is my welcome back from sudden hiatus post. ive been very busy but am very happy to be back!!
hey so trinity stealing a disposable scalpel can be seen as a symbol of addiction and a parallel to langdon… not a way to compare the two and dismiss langdon’s actions thank youuu
