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Spencer Reid a-z
You know the drill, here’s a Spencer Reid NSFW a-z headcanon post!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
will 100% make you go to the toilet whilst lecturing you on the importance of preventing UTI’s. Will then make you get into the shower with him because he can’t stand the thought of all those bodily fluids.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Loves your mouth. Always studies the way your lips form words, or your smile or you bite your lip when you get frustrated. His favourite body part are his hands. He’s been told before that he has nice hands, and he doesn’t get many compliments so that really stuck with him. 
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Honestly, he hates his own cum. Can stand the stickiness of it. That’s why he’ll never cum on your body or anything like, always inside of you or a condom. Yours, however, he doesn’t mind at all. He sees it as a sign he’s done well, and we all know he’s a sucker for praise. 
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He loves it when you dress up as a school girl and call him professor. It makes him feel important and domineering, which he doesn’t often feel. He loves it when you’re submissive, or even bratty, because it allows him to take control in a life where he often feels very out of control. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not that practically experienced, but Spencer is an intellect if nothing else, and knows the theory of basically everything. He knows exactly what to do and how to do it, the only thing he hasn’t taken into account is how everyone is different, so he loves being educated on the nuances of your body. 
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Loves being on top, either in missionary or doggy or anything like that. He loves feeling powerful and dominant. He especially loves when you're own your back under him with your hands tied to the headboard, or bent over a desk with your hands tied behind your back. Anything that strips you of autonomy and gives him complete control over you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He doesn’t find intimacy to be goofy at all, and is often very serious and concentrated. He views sex as a very serious thing you do with someone you trust, and rarely jokes around.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Based purely on the research he’s done on crabs (which terrify him) and his own germaphobia, he keeps it very neat. He trims regularly, but doesn’t shave completely as he also knows the importance of pubic hair with hygiene and all that blah blah blah what a know it all
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s usually very dominant unless he’s in one of his depressive episodes and lets you take care of him. Even when he’s being dominant, he’s always checking you’re okay by studying your body language and is a big believer in safe words
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Is embarrassed by the idea of jacking off and will only do so in the shower so he’s able to feel clean whilst doing it. Would much rather fuck you than jerk off, even if it just a quickie (he’s a sucker for quickies)
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Like mentioned before, he loves tying you up and immobilising you, especially if it’s with one of his own ties. He also loves sense deprivation, and will choke you (the right way) to limit air supply and blindfold you to heighten your other senses.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
If not in your bed, then on the desk in his office, it turns him on so much to see you spread out on his desk. He also loves making you squirm in public. It makes him feel as though you’re completely his and he can do what he wants with you. He craves that control.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You in a school girl’s costume, you in a tie, you in a short pleated skirt... anything that’s promiscuous and corporate. Praise also gets him hot and heavy. Being called professor or sir as well, but I feel like that’s a given. 
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Would never let you tie him up or blindfold him or anything like that. He hates feeling at someone’s mercy, even if it is someone he trusts. 
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves receiving oral as it makes him feel super powerful, but loves giving just as much because he’s just that damn good at it and hearing you praise him really gets him going. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
White boy has got some rhythm. Thanks to his extensive research, he knows that a dichotomy of fast and slow is gonna get the most reactions out of you. Even so, sometimes he’ll go really fast and hard, or torutingly slow, just to drive you insane and make you beg him for it. 
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Man he loves a quickie. Especially if it’s somewhere risky. Although he prefers to take his time and tie you up before teasing your for ages, he loves rough fuck in the bathroom or in the back of his car just to prove to you that he can take you whenever, wherever.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Will only experiment is he’s done extensive research on it and has weighed the risks and the rewards. If he finds merit in it, he’s totally up for some experimenting. Especially if it’s something you’ve suggested. He lives to please.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can last for ages, but usually needs a break after one round. Most of the time, he’ll torture and fuck you for about an hour before scooping you up to have a shower (which is a must). He will force you to have some water and food, because nutrients are important, and only when he think’s you’re ready will he go for round two.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Loves toys. They don’t make him feel like less of a man because he’s done enough experimenting on you to know that’s not the case. But he loves when they can provide a little extra edge and make things even more torturous for you. 
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Spencer’s the name, teasing’s the game. He loves to push you to your limits and have you a squirming, begging mess before he finally fucks you. Seeing you at his complete mercy makes him feral.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not that loud at all. He feels like he might embarass himself if he makes too much noise. That being said, he loves to whisper dirty talk into your ear. And if you’re alone at your house, he’ll give you commands and order you around. 
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
You wearing garters and stocking is instant grounds for a) getting dragged into the nearest isolated space, b) punishment and c) getting the living daylights fucked out of you.  
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
You know what they say about the lanky ones... Spencer may not have the thickest dick, but fuck is it big. Around 9 inches long. It’s always the tall ones...
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He gets distracted very easily and often forgets about sex until he sees you. He doesn’t really ever get horny over nothing and just pounce on you. Usually, you’ll do something small, probably something you didn’t even do on purpose, but it’s enough to get his blood pumping. He’s also very easily seduced by you. He will rarely turn down sex with you, and if he does, it’s because he’s got work to do.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Will take a while to fall asleep as he’s very concerned with how you’re feeling, if it was good for you, if you’re too sore, if he was too rough etc. Only when the two of you are squeaky clean and you’re sound asleep next to him will he let himself drift off. 
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Peter Parker x Reader - One Bed...
A/N: ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE
Warnings: smut, ONE BED TROPE (need I say more?)
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“Um... I think I got the wrong room.” You hear a voice come from the door. You whirl around and see Peter scratching his neck awkwardly holding his own bag. 
You turn back around to the one, emphasis on one, bed in the hotel room. You laugh awkwardly yourself and look at Peter over your shoulder. 
“Seeing as there’s only one bed, I’d say one of us has definitely got the wrong room.” You look down at your room key and check the number on the door. 
Yep, 26. You see Peter do the same and he also has the key for 26. He sighs and gives you an apologetic smile. “I’ll go talk to Mr Stark now. He’ll sort it out.”
“I’ll come with, just in case I’m in the wrong place.” You pick your bag off the floor and cross the room to where Peter stands in the doorway. His very presence gives you butterflies, but you steel your face and look up at him expectantly. 
He clears his throat and takes a step back from you, looking over your head. He rarely meets your eyes but you try not to take it personally. You hold back a sad sigh and stare down at your bag. 
“Um, I think he’s in the suite,” of course he is, “I’ll go ask reception, you can stay here.” Peter directs and without another word, he starts walking down the hallway. 
“Ah, Peter! Where you off to, young man?” You both whip your heads around to face Tony’s voice. You find him marching jovially down the hall towards you in a white hotel bath robe. 
“Just trying to f-find you, Mr Stark.” Peter stutters, face going red. 
“Well, consider me found!” Tony laughs at himself and spreads his arms wide. In one hand is a glass of white wine. “What can I do you for?” 
“We’re just wondering which of us has the wrong room? We both have the key for 26.” You explain and point at the number on the door.
“That would be because you’re both in room 26.” Tony states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Duh.” 
“There’s only one bed!” Peter squeaks, his face even more red. You swear his ears are scarlet at this point. 
“Okay? If it’s that much of an issue, build a pillow fort, I don’t know.” Tony throws up his hands and almost sloshes his wine. “Or, be a gentleman and take the floor, Spider-Boy.” He points at Peter. 
“Are there no other rooms?” You ask pleadingly, not because you would hate to share a bed with Peter, but because you don’t know if your heart could take knowing he would rather sleep on the floor than potentially touch you.
Tony sighs and takes a long sip of his wine. “Nope, it’s tourist season in Prague and we nabbed the last few rooms. I figured the youngest should share if anyone has to. Not like I can share a bed with Banner, I’d wake up with a massive green di-”
“Okay! Image not needed, thanks!” You cry and cut him off. He laughs maniacally and spins dramatically.
“Ta ta, kiddos! See you bright and early!” He waves as he disappears around the corner. 
“You’d think a self-proclaimed billionaire would be able to afford a hotel with more rooms.” Peter mutters as he shuffled back to your shared room. 
“I can hear you, sport!” Tony’s voice drifts around the corner and you vaguely hear the words ‘character building’ before silence falls upon the two of you. 
This time, your face goes red as you both face the bed. You drop your bag on the floor and twist your fingers together.
“I’m gonna have a quick shower...” You don’t even look at him as you disappear into the bathroom, hoping a cold shower will help you calm down. 
You wash your hair and scrub yourself with the hotel soaps and conditioners. Not even freezing water will slow your heart rate. You sigh heavily and step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a fuzzy white towel and using another one to twist your hair up. 
It’s now that you realise you left your bag outside. With all your clothes in it.
“Good one, you moron.” You mutter to yourself, 
“What’s that?” Peter calls from bedroom.
“Nothing!” Stupid super-hearing. “Just talking to myself!” Oh that’s way better.
You grit your teeth to stop yourself from saying anything else stupid. You open the door and walk timidly into the bedroom. 
Peter is sitting on the edge of the bed on his phone. As soon as you walk into the room, his head shoots up and he stares at you with wide eyes. 
“Oh!” His eyes rake your towel-clad body and his face goes pink again. You grimace awkwardly and pull down the bottom of the towel to try and cover up more but it pulls down the fabric around your chest. 
You clutch the fabric desperately and cuss. He closes his mouth closed with a snap and looks down at his hands quickly. 
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to- not that you- I mean- I didn’t see- there wasn’t anything showing... not that there’s nothing to show, just that- sorry!” He covers his face with his hands and collapses onto his back on the bed. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
You’re not quite sure what to make of his rambling, but you’re sure your face is just as red as his. “Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out.” You swallow the ball in your throat and cross the room, avoiding looking in his direction. “I’m just going to get my bag.” 
You scurry back into the bathroom, bag in tow, and shut the door louder than you meant to. As you brush your hair and clean your teeth, you repeat the last few minutes in your head. His wide eyes, his slack mouth, his words:
Not that there’s nothing to show...
You were definitely overthinking this. That didn’t mean anything. Plus, he has made it quite obvious that he’s got no interest in you.
Sure, you guys are friends. It’s impossible not to be his friend. And he hangs out with you a lot. It helps that you guys were the same age. But he also avoids physical contact with you like you have the plague. 
You pull on your pyjamas, a white oversized top and plaid pyjama shorts. You eye yourself in the mirror, thoroughly unimpressed at what you see, before tip toeing back into the room. Peter is standing next to the bed, in his own plaid pyjama pants and white top, waiting nervously for you to arrive. In his hand is his own toothbrush and a single pillow. 
“Um, I’m just gonna brush my teeth and then I can sleep on the floor-” He starts but you cut him off. 
“You really don’t have to do that, Peter.” You stand on the opposite side of the bed and you both avoid eye contact. 
“It’s really okay.” He promises, but the hardwood floor under your feet is freezing, and you’re even getting cold just standing there. The quilt is calling your name. 
“Peter, it’s freezing. If you’re trying to be chivalrous, don’t worry about it. I really don’t mind.” You lift the cover up and start to get comfy before freezing and looking up at him from under your lashes. “Unless... you don’t feel comfortable sharing with me.” His eyes are on your bare legs but he quickly looks away once he notices you looking at him.
“Y/N-” He starts but you cut him off. 
“I won’t be offended, Peter. Really.” You promise him and he meets your eyes earnestly. 
“Me? Uncomfortable?” He raises his eyebrows and points at his own chest. “I was worried about you being uncomfortable.” 
You huff a laugh. “I’m fine with it, Peter. Seriously!” You say in earnest when you see his incredulous face. “We can even build a wall out of pillows if you want.” 
He turns his nose up. “I don’t wanna give Stark the satisfaction.” You both laugh and the tension eases somewhat. 
That is, until, he comes back from brushing his teeth and slides into bed next to you. You’re facing the opposite wall and sleeping on the very edge of the bed, and you can tell he’s doing the same. 
But the bed is small and you can still feel his body heat radiating onto your back. You take a shaky breath, knowing that with him so close to you, you’re not going to be sleeping very well. 
The butterflies are like wasps in your stomach. All you can hear is his breathing, and you might be delusional, but it sounds as shaky as yours. 
“Night, Y/N.” He whispers in a gravelly voice. 
“Night, Peter.” You whisper back and shut your eyes, hoping in vain that sleep finds you fast and this awkward night can end. 
You’re not sure when you fall asleep. One minute, you’re freezing cold and staring at the wall. The next minute, you’re struggling to breath and staring at an arm under your head. 
And it’s hot. 
As you come to your senses, you realise that you’ve ended up on your stomach and Peter is quite literally lying on top of you. One hand is tucked around your waist, his hand resting between your ribs and the mattress. His other arm is under your head, your new pillow apparently. And something hard is pressing into your hip...
You suck in a breath, your heart instantly racing. His breath brushes across your hair, your head tucked under his chin. 
You don’t wanna wake him in case he freaks out and how close he is to you, but at the same time, your arm that is stuck under your torso is completely numb, and the leg he has tucked under his own is full of pins and needles. 
You try to move as slowly and softly as possible, but you should have known that with Peter’s spidey-senses, that was never an option. 
He wakes with a deep inhale, his arms momentarily tightening around you before he freezes completely. You wait a couple of seconds for him to say something, but it stays silent.
“Morning.” You whisper. He doesn’t move an inch. 
“Um...” his morning voice is deep and gravelly and shoots sparks down your spine, straight to between your thighs. The hot length pressing into your hip doesn’t do anything for your senses. 
“I’m just trying to move my arm...” You explain, wriggling around to try and free your arm. As you move to pull your arm out, your ass pushes up against his erection and he inhales sharply, his arm that was around your waist suddenly grips your hips roughly. 
“Don’t move.” He says quietly in that sinful gravelly voice. You freeze immediately. For five painful seconds, you both just lie there. You feel the length, which is now pressing against your ass, getting harder. 
You swallow loudly. “Peter?” You ask into the darkness. He inhales shakily and begins to loosen his grip on your hips.
“Y/N... I... I am so sorry.” He whispers, starting to pull away from you. “I have no idea what came over me-”
“I don’t mind.” You say quickly. He stops in his tracks. “I mean... I’m not uncomfortable, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You don’t dare move a muscle. 
“You don’t mind?” He asks softly, still frozen. 
“Not one bit.” You lick your lips nervously. “Plus, it was getting really cold. The heat is kinda nice.” You admit.
 He exhales slowly and carefully, cautiously, curls his body back around you. “The heat is nice.” He agrees, resting his chin on the top of your head again. You hum in agreement and snuggle closer to him. Your hips rock back into him accidentally, and he inhales sharply. 
“Um-” He starts, shifting his hips away from you. “I’m sorry about that...” You grab the arm around your waist and it stops him again. 
“I’m not uncomfortable.” You assure him.
“You promise?” He asks. You turn your head towards him and he lifts his head off the pillow the look down at you. 
“I promise.” You whisper, trying (and failing) not to look at his lips. He studies your face intently, the dark making it a bit hard to see, but he’s so close you could count the freckles on his nose. 
He nods once and you both settle back into your spooning position. The hand around you waist tightens and pulls you back against him. Your heart begins racing and your stomach churns in anticipation. 
His fingers trace circles on your stomach over the fabric of your shirt and it’s driving you insane. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing, right??
His head shifts so his lips are at your ear. “Your heart is racing.” He whispers, his breath raising goosebumps along the back of your neck. 
“Really?” You ask breathily, knowing damn well what the answer is. 
“Mhm.” He hums and begins tapping his fingers on your stomach to the beat of your heart. Yep, it was fast alright. “Do I make you nervous, Y/N?”
You laugh shakily. “A bit.” 
“But you’re not uncomfortable?” He double checks. 
“Not at all.” His fingers speed up with your heartbeat.
He hums thoughtfully.
“Are you uncomfortable?” You ask. 
“In a way.” He laughs, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” You try to untangle yourself from him but this time, it’s his turn to hold you in place. 
“Not for the reason you’re thinking.” His grip falls on a bit of your exposed waist, his fingers digging into your skin.
“I don’t understand.” You breath.
After a few seconds of silence, he finally answers. “Can I show you what I mean?” 
“What?” Heat rushes between your thighs. 
“Just tell me to stop, and I promise I will. Okay?” He huffs and before you can say another word, he presses a soft kiss below your ear. Tingles shoot down your spine and you can’t stop the gasp escape your lips. 
He waits a second for you to tell him to stop, but you don’t say anything, so he continues. 
He bites down gently on your ear lobe. Instinctively, you shift your hips back against him. He inhales sharply and grinds his erection on your ass. He fists your t-shirt in his hands and he tightens his grip around your waist. 
He sucks on a spot below your ear, making you let out a tiny moan. It makes him laugh under his breath, knowing what he does to you. You grind against him again, just to show him you mean business, and he pushes right back, his hand digging into your waist.
Peter then props himself up on one elbow, leaning over you, and tugs your shirt off your shoulder. The stretched neck hole allows it to bare your skin to him. Immediately, he presses his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder. 
You gasp again, but it quickly turns into a moan as he bites down gently on your skin. You raise your hand to grip his head behind you, tugging on his hair. He continues to thrust his hips into yours. 
Both of your breathing becomes more and more ragged as he trails kisses down to your shoulder and back up your neck, your hips moving in tandem. When you pull on his hair harder, he lets out a groan.
“Y/N...” he whispers, his voice full of need. You turn onto your back and he quickly cages you between his arms, propping himself over you. One of his legs falls between your own, his thigh dangerously close to your center. 
One of your hands in on his shoulder, the other holding his bicep. 
Fuck, he’s ripped.
He stares down at you, eyes blown out with lust, his brown hair hanging over his forehead
“I wanna kiss you.” He admits, his eyes darting to your lips.
“What’s stopping you?” You whisper, running your hands along his shoulders.
“I don’t want it to ruin our friendship. I like you too much, Y/N.” His head lowers and he rests his forehead against your own. Your breath is mingling, lips only an inch apart.
“I really like you too, nothing is going to change that.” You smile, looking intently into his eyes. “Unless you take any longer to kiss me, you loser.” You joke and he returns your smile, eyes darting to your lips again.
“My apologies, miss...” he smirks before finally pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is soft and sweet, at first. Your lips move in a slow dance.
Slowly, your hand traces up his neck to cup the back of his neck. You pull his face against yours a little harder, needing him closer. He smirks against your lips, dropping down onto his elbows to cover your body with his own.
You can feel every muscle, every piece of his bare skin against your own. His length presses hard into your hip and you hitch your bare legs around hips to feel him even closer.
He lets out a small groan as his clothed erection rubs against your centre, covered only with your thin cotton panties. One of his hands rakes through your hair and fists is tightly. The small amount of pain that tingles through your scalp makes you gasp and it sends waves of pleasure to your core.
Your gasp allows him to slip his tongue tentatively into your mouth, and you welcome him with enthusiasm. Your tongues push against each other as he devours you, pulling you impossibly closer by your hair.
He grinds into you purposefully, his hips moving sinfully against yours. You moan as he applies perfect pressure to your clit with his hard length.
The hand that isn’t carded into your hair begins tugging roughly at your top, pushing it up your torso and baring your skin.
“I want this off.” He almost growls, and it shocks you because you’ve never heard Peter so aggressive. But goddamn, does it turn you on.
“You first.” You grin playfully, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath following his assault on your mouth.
He quirks an eyebrow at you before kneeling between your spread legs, sitting back on his heels. He towers over you, looking down at you with complete lust. In one smooth movement, he reaches one hand behind his neck and pulls his shirt skillfully over his head, tossing it away.
He smirks down at you. “Your turn.”
You blink hard, trying to pull yourself together after that incredibly sexy undressing. With way less grace, you pull your own shirt over your head. You feel dumb, having none of the finesse, nor the incredible physique he has, but the way he looks  at your makes these feelings all but crumble.
“Holy shit, Y/N.” Peter’s jaw gapes at you as he takes you in. You blush a deep red and go to move your hands to cover yourself. He suddenly leans back over you and pins your wrists to the bed, stopping you in your tracks. You gasp.
“Nuh uh. You’re beautiful.” He says earnestly. “Honestly, beautiful isn’t enough. I can’t think of a strong enough word to describe you.” He presses his lips to yours and you’re thankful he doesn’t wait for you to reply because you’re honestly speechless. 
“I-” you start when he pulls away but he silences you again with his lips. You moan into his mouth, flexing your wrists but he doesn’t budge. 
“If you’re just going to argue with me, I’m not letting you talk.” He murmurs against your lips. 
“I just wanted to say thank you.” You shoot back, totally lying. He smiles and goes in for a deep kiss, his tongue dancing with your own. 
“Sure you did.” He smirks again. He lets go of your hands and one hand props himself over you whilst the cups your waist. His thumb runs along your underboob, raising goosebumps in its wake. 
His hips grind back against yours and your instantly putty in his hands again, all feelings of inadequacy forgotten. 
“Fuck, Peter.” You cuss, circling his waist with your legs and pushing your hands through his hair. His lips leave yours to start trailing along your jaw. He nips at your earlobe for the second time that night and your back arches off the bed. 
After he realises how this makes you react, he goes ham. Tugging at your lobe with his teeth, sucking harsh on the skin right below your ear... it’s heaven. He drinks you in like a man who hasn’t had water in days. 
Peter begins kissing down your neck and along your collar bones, leaving dark hickeys on his way to your breasts. 
“Is this okay?” He looks up at you with glazed eyes, his hair wild from your tugging and his lips pink and plump. 
You nod eagerly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. He grins at your response and dips his head down to place a sloppy kiss on the peak of your breast. You arch your back, pushing your chest up towards him. He takes this as a sign to go for it and quickly places his mouth over your nipple, kissing it lightly. 
You let out a loud moan, egging him on. His hand begins to knead your other breast as he sucks and nibbles at your bud, making it stiffen. Once he deems it to be enough, he swaps breasts, giving the game treatment to the other. 
The whole time, you’re squirming under him and letting out breathy moans in between muttering his name. 
“Shit, Peter.” You swear, tugging at his hair to bring him back up to your lips. “I didn’t expect you to be so...” 
“Godlike?” He jokes, but you can tell it means a lot to him for you to be praising him. 
You nod and let out a small laugh, tracing your hands along his abs and feeling his muscles clench under your fingertips. He lets out a shaky breath as you near his waistband.
“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not actually a massive virgin.” He chuckles as he traces your breasts with his long fingers, watching your skin goose-pimple in satisfaction. 
“Could’ve fooled me.” You smirk, toying with the string of his pants. 
“Oh yeah?” He laughs, but his breath is unsteady and his muscles are clenched.  
You hum, pressing kisses along his jaw and neck, leaving a few hickeys of your own. He hisses and grips your waist hard as you suck on his sensitive skin. 
You begin to palm him through his pants and marvel at his size. He thrusts into your hand, swearing. 
“Fuck, baby.” He searches for your lips. 
“Baby?” You whip your head back and quirk an eyebrow at him, not stopping your ministrations. 
“Sorry, just slipped out.” He winces. “Do you not like it?”
“I don’t mind it.” You shrug coyly, which was a total lie. It turned you on that much more. 
You finally slip your hand into his pants and grip his sizeable erection. He kisses you in desperation, keeping his hips as still as possible to let you have control.
The hand that cups your waist begins trailing down your hip and runs along your leg, which is still around his waist. He squeezes the flesh on your hips roughly before slowly tracing his fingers along the waistband of your panties, just like you did to him.
You slowly pump him with your hand, which wraps tightly around his girth, making him groan. He’s not exactly super thick, but he more than makes up for it in length. 
He looks at you for, silently asking for your approval, and he respond by kissing him. He sighs into your mouth and runs a finger along your seam, over the top of your panties. You gasp and try to shift your hips into his hand as the soft pressure he’s applying is driving you insane. 
“Patience, baby.” He laughs against your lips, softly circling your clit from over the material. 
“I need more, Peter. Please.” You keen and he relents, tugging your panties down your legs in one smooth motion. 
“You’re relentless.” He grinds his erection, which is harder than it has ever been, onto your exposed center. The only thing separating you two are his pyjama pants, which are damp with his precum. “What do you wanna do, Y/N?”
“I want you, Peter.” You look up at him with begging eyes, trying to reach his lips, but he keeps his head out of your reach. “Please, Peter, I need you to fuck me. Now.” 
His eyes widen infinitesimally, and with a groan of his own, he meets your lips in a scorching kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close as possible, your bare skin burning where it meets his. He pushes his pants down his legs and shakes them off. 
Finally, the two of you are both naked. You gaps into each others mouths as your hips meet with nothing separating them. The head of his member pushing between your folds and collecting moisture, slicking it. 
“You’re so wet, baby.” He says against your lips.
“That’s what you do to me, Peter.” Your breath hitches and he grinds against you again. 
You’re thinking that you might just kill him if he doesn’t quit teasing you, but thankfully he pushes himself up on his hands and stares down at you intensely.
“You sure about this?” He questions. 
“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” You say back, cupping his face. You share a tender moment, which is broken by your load moan as he rubs the tip of his dick along your folds. 
“Shit, I gotta get a condom.” He swears but you grip his wrist that’s near your entrance. 
“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” You swear he nearly jumps in joy. 
“Thank god.” He guides his tip to your entrance and rests his forehead against yours. 
“You’re incredible.” He says in awe, and before you can answer, he begins slowly pushing into you.
The feeling of him first entering you is indescribably amazing. You stretch to accomodate his larger-than-average length, your eyes creased and your breathing hitched. You fingernails leave crescent marks in the meat of his shoulders. He cusses as he eases slowly into you and bottoms out. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” He studies your face intently, looking for any sign on pain or discomfort. “You okay?” 
“You’re just... bigger than I’ve had before.” You breath heavily. You can basically hear his smirk so you add: “Don’t let that get to your head, Parker.” 
“Too late.” He presses soft kisses around your face, giving you a minute. “Can I move now?” He asks timidly, not wanting to hurt you. 
“Please.” You nod, catching his lips in a kiss.
Peter draws his hips back out and thrusts back in, slowly, but forcefully. Your eyes rolls back at how good it feels. He reaches a place in you that you didn’t even know was possible. 
His hand cups your face gently, stroking your cheek as you adjust to his size. After a few strokes, the sting of pain is replaced by an overwhelming throb of pleasure. 
“Fuck...” You curse loudly and he swallows your moans with his lips. “You feel so good inside me.” 
He whimpers in response to your words, thrusting in a little harder. You let out another obscene moan.
He kisses you, the both of you moaning against the others lips. You tighten your legs around his waist and pull him in faster. 
“Faster, Peter. Please.” You beg, tugging at his hair. He growls in response and speeds up. The only sounds in the room is the slapping of your skin and your combined panting.
You can feel every ridge of his member as he continues to thrust into you hard and fast, followed by a slow, torturous pull out. The dichotomy only adds to the ball of pleasure that’s growing between your legs. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He says between kisses. He continues to pump into you, his hips circling deliciously. 
You can feel your legs beginning to shake as a wave of pure pleasure threatens to pull you under. 
“Peter, I-” You gasp at one particularly deep thrust. It hit a spot in you that send sparks flying up your spine and made your toes curl. “Fuck, just there.” 
His eyes narrow in concentration and he tries to find that spot again. He grips your legs behind your knees and pushes your legs up to hang over his broad shoulders. The new angle allows him to hit that spot over and over and over until you can barely see. 
“I’m gonna-” you moan, your head thrown back against the pillows, “You’re gonna make me cum, Peter.” You reach a hand up and scratch down his abs, drawing a high-pitched whine from him. 
“C’mon baby, I wanna see you cum for me.” He begs, keeping his face consistent but you can tell it’s taking effort for him to not speed up. 
The ball of energy in the pit of your stomach continues to grow until you can feel it spreading through your limbs. 
“Faster Peter, I’m close.” Your eyes scrunch up and your hand grips his wrist next to your head so he doesn’t push you up the bed with his intense thrusts.
He speeds up and you can tell he’s close as well by the way his breathing is hard and his pace becomes erratic. 
“Fuck, so am I, baby.” He pushes your legs up next to your head and leans between them to kiss you urgently. You’re folded almost in half but any twinges that might possibly be felt are completely overshadowed by the toe-curling pleasure Peter is giving you right now.
“Come with me, please.” You beg, tearing your eyes open to make eye contact with him. He looks at you with completely lust-blown eyes and it pushes you over the edge.
“Go on, baby.” He groans and you feel the rubberband inside of you snap, sending you spiralling into space. You see stars behind your eyes and you cry out loudly as he drops a hand to start circling your clit, pulling you through a vortex of pleasure. 
He silences you with a kiss, his thrusts becoming manic as he reaches his own high. Chanting your name like a prayer, Peter finally peaks, the feeling of your pussy tightening around him way pulling him into his own tsunami of pleasure. 
His fingers stop circling your clit as you scrabble at his wrists, trying to make the overwhelming pleasure cease. Even so, he continues to piston inside of you, making your legs shake and your toes curl. 
“Peter... Peter...” you whisper against his lips, feeling him fill you up. You rub his back as he comes down, his thrusts becoming sloppier and slower. 
“Holy fuck.” He gasps, resting his forehead against yours, one of his hands caressing your cheek. 
“That was.. fucking incredible.” You sigh, kissing him softly. 
“You’re incredible.” He corrects, not yet pulling out of you. 
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna argue about this?” You murmur, your body feeling like jello. He laughs and finally pulls out of you. You suddenly feel empty, and cold. 
“C’mon, let’s get you into a shower.” He says and pulls you up by your hand. You slump against him and he picks you up with ease and carries you to the bathroom. 
“Are you joining me?” You mutter, head in the crook of his neck. 
“If-If you want.” He stutters. 
“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask, dazed. 
He freezes. “I just didn’t know if that was gonna be a one-time thing. You know, for the sake of body heat and all that.” 
“I thought I made it pretty obvious how much I liked you, Peter. I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” You pout at him, but he avoids your eyes. “Unless that’s what you want, then...” You try to wriggle out of his grasp  but your legs don’t have any strength to hold you up. He catches you as you’re halfway to the floor. 
“Y/N... no. Just no.” He sits you on the edge of the bath and kneels in front of you. “Sorry, I’m just not good at talking.”
He cups your face delicately and looks at you with what you could only call adoration. 
“I like you too, this will not be a one time thing. Okay?” You nod once. “Good now let’s get in the shower, I’m freezing my ass off.”
You smile to yourself as he helps you up. You catch him smiling as well and the two of you lean in for another kiss.
fin
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Hey wassup hello
I hope y’all are liking my Spencer Reid fic bc I’m super proud of it! Next part will be out soon and it’s all smut hehehe 
smell ya later
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Something Wicked part 3- Spencer Reid x OFC
Chapter Three: The 10 Things I Hate About You
Warnings: angst, swearing, graphic depictions of violence.
A/N: we’re approaching the long-awaited smut, folks! I just love building tension, it makes it so much juicer. Plus, this whole enemies-to-lovers thing take time! 
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Our tense silence is interrupted only by the occasional direction from Spencer. Leopold ends up living a good 30 minutes from the last crime scene.
30 minutes of the loudest silence of my life.
When we arrive, the sky has darkened to an almost black and wind whips my hair around my face.
“That’s not very promising.” Spencer says as we walk up to the door of an old bookstore.
“Scared of a little thunder?” I give him a side eye. He doesn’t dignify comment with a response for a second, just raises his hand to know on the door.
“No, but it’s April. And Tennessee gets about 30 tornadoes a year, 22.5% of which occur in April.” We hear footsteps approach the door.  “So no, not very promising.”
I open my mouth to respond but the opening of the door stops me. Leopold has thick black glasses that make his eyes small and beady. His hair is combed aggressively over his forehead. In short: he looks very skeezy.
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“Who are you two?” Leopold studies us closely before his face takes a sour expression. “Mm, feds. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Leopold van der Fell?” I ask and he looks down his nose at me.
“Who’s asking?” He says haughtily.
“I’m Natalie Hart and this is Special Agent Spencer Reid, we’re here with the FBI. We just have a couple of questions, if that’s okay?” I smile sweetly and his distasteful expression lowers slightly.
“You here about those murders happening on the other side of town?” I nod and he quirks an eyebrow. “How could I possibly help you with your investigation?”
“Sir, we understand that you are an expert in Shakespeare and we feel that your knowledge could really help us. You may have heard he’s leaving messages at the scene? They’re quotes from Macbeth.” Spencer interjects and Leopold’s expression goes from one of distrust to smugness.
“It now makes sense now why you’ve come to me. If it’s Shakespeare, I’m all ears.” He opens the door wider and waves us inside. “Come, come!”
We sit around a small circular table, talk bookshelves surrounding us. The room smells of parchment and dust and makes my nose itch a little.
Leopold is giving me seriously creepy vibes. He keeps running his palm over his hair to flatten it across his forehead.
“What can you tell us about these quotes?” Spencer asks and slides his phone across the table. Leopold flicks through photos of the blood-red words on the walls of the crime scenes. He stares a little too hungrily at them and it sends shivers down my spine.
“It seems your little friend is a fan of Macbeth. Both of these quotes come from monologues by the Three Witches. Symbolically, they represent the depravity of the human soul. The darkness that lives in Macbeth.” He begins, pushing his thick glasses up his nose. “However, in recent times, it has been argued that the Witches actually represent the dark thoughts of Lady Macbeth, and are merely a reflection of the subconscious influence she begets upon her husband.”
“And what do you believe?” Spencer asks.
Leopold looks up from the phone finally and stares at Spencer from over his glasses. “Are you going to profile me, Dr Reid?” He raises his eyebrows and looks back down at the pictures, using his fingers to zoom in to the blood spatter. “What I will tell you is that whoever is leaving these quotes has a serious vendetta. And if they were to believe in the latter: that Lady Macbeth is the cause of her husband’s downfall, then…” He chuckles darkly and slides the phone back over to Spencer.
“Well, let’s just say the ending of particular story may be yet another tragedy.”
Goosebumps raise across the back of my neck. Spencer stares at Leopold thoughtfully, sucking on a tooth.
“Thank you for your insight, Mr Van Der fell.” I stutter and rise from the table quickly. He looks at me with a smirk.
“If you are in need of any more of my expertise, you know where to find me.” He says smugly. Spencer stands up as well and nods once at him.
"We’ll be in touch. Thank you for your hospitality.” He gestures for me to make my way to the door first and he follows close behind me.
“I’d get back to your lodgings quick smart, agents!” Leopold yells from behind us. I turn and peer at him from around Spencer’s tall frame. Leopold stands at his window and stares up at the black clouds with an excited glint in his eyes. “The roads aren’t safe right now.”
Spencer and I share a look, probably the first time we’ve ever been on the same page, and hurry back to the car. I let him drive this time as no matter how many times I wipe my hands on my pants, they remain clammy.
As we peel out of the driveway, I turn the radio on to hear a loud beeping. Spencer immediately turns the volume up.
“Code Red. Tornado warning issued for the following counties…” A mechanic female voice begins listing areas. I don’t recognise any of them until she says: “Memphis.”
I look at Spencer in alarm.
“It is advised everyone take the proper safety precautions immediately. Secure all windows. Proceed to shelters if possible.” The radio continues.
I swear and turn it down as I see my phone light up. Hotch is calling.
“Where are you guys?” He says, not bothering with greetings. I immediately put him on speaker and hold the phone in front of me so Spencer can hear.
“We just left, we’re at least half an hour away.” I say.
“The roads are full, Hotch. It might take us twice that to get back to the precinct.” Spencer interjects and he’s right. Cars are crawling along the motorway. People must be making last minute dashes for provisions or trying to get to the storm shelters.
“Hang on a second.” Hotch orders and after a couple of beeps, Garcia joins the call. “Garcia, how’s it looking?”
“The nearest shelter is ten minutes away from you two.” She states and I can hear the panic in her voice.
“You don’t think we can make it back to you guys?” I ask and I can barely hide the shakiness in my voice.
“No, you need to get off the roads now. The tornado is moving due east and is heading straight for you guys.” Garcia taps something into her computer. “Hotch, it looks like it will go north of you guys, but stay at the precinct shelter just in case.”
“Thanks, Garcia.” Hotch says. “I want you to stay on the phone and direct Natalie and Reid. Update me with any changes. You guys understand?”
Spencer runs a hand through his hair, obviously tense. “We got it, Hotch.”
“Phone lines are already going down so I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to reach you guys.” Garcia stresses.
“As soon as this passes, get back to the precinct. But until then, stay safe.” Hotch says.
“But what about the case?” I ask, thinking of all the dead bodies that could pile up while we’re out of commission.
“Your lives are not worth it, Natalie. Understood?” Hotch says sternly.
“Understood.” I swallow thickly.
“Good. I’ll see you both soon. Stay safe.” He repeats and clicks off the line.
“Okay, friends. Take a left onto highway 14.” Garcia instructs and without a sound, Reid does as she says. After about five minutes, she gives another direction.
“Take another left onto Airview road. Follow that for about 6 miles.” We do as told. “There’s a motel with a shelter that should be coming up on your left.”
“Hotel Inn?” Spencer asks and slows down as we approach it.
Garcia’s voice becomes a faint crackle.
“Hello? Garcia?” I say loudly into the phone. More static sounds before LED text lights up the screen. CALL FAILED. “Lines are down.” I tell Spencer. His jaw clenches as he pulls into the busy parking lot. People are swarming the entrance under a flashing sign that says STORM SHELTERS AVAILABLE.
“Well, this is definitely it.” He sighs and opens the door to get out. I’m frozen in my seat, staring at the black skies are the tries whipping around. In the distance, I can see a dark column of wind reaching towards the ground. Spencer looks over his shoulder and spots it as well.  
“C’mon, Natalie. We need to go. Now.” He shakes my arm roughly and I break out of my paralysing fear. I jump out of the car and follow him to the reception area. People are being ushered down steps into a basement area.
I head to the woman who sits behind the reception desk. “You got room for two more?” I ask nervously, eyeing the windows. She takes a deep breath and leisurely scans the paper in front of her. I grow more and more panicked as she takes her time and the wind becomes almost deafening outside.
“We don’t have time for this.” Spencer hisses. He pushes in front of me and whips out his FBI badge, flashing it to the lady. Her eyes widen and she suddenly kicks into high gear.
“The only room left is a single chamber. It’s usually reserved for high-status guests.” She stammers.
“But it’s available?” I ask.
“It’s expensive.” She replies.
“Does it look like there’s anyone else here?” Spencer says coldly, and as I look around, we are indeed the last people in the lobby. The receptionist gulps and shakes her head. “Exactly, now show us to the room before I arrest you for criminal neglect. You think a jury is going to be very forgiving if you locked two federal agents outside during a tornado?” He stares down at her menacingly.
Without a second thought, she switches the sign outside to say FULL instead of AVAILABLE and ushers us to the basement. The muffled cries of children and the murmur of adults echo through the stones hallway. She takes us to the very end of the corridor and holds open a door for us.
“Lock it behind you. A green light will flash when it’s safe to come out. If it’s red, well…” She grimaces at us both. “I’ll see y’all later, I hope.” She shuts the door, leaving us in the small room all alone. I lock the door like she said and turn to face the room.
I hold back a groan. A single bed sits against the wall. On the far side of the room is a toilet separated from the rest of the room by a curtain. A desk is the only other furniture.
“Fantastic.” Spencer says through gritted teeth and places his bag on the desk. “When she said single room, I didn’t think she meant single bed.”
“Oh, because this is so much worse than being stuck outside during a tornado.” I glare at his back. He doesn’t face me, just fiddles with his phone.
“I think I’d rather take my chances with the tornado.” He mutters under his breath, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear him.
But I do.
“You know what? Fuck you, Spencer Reid!” I yell at his back and and stomp to the bed, throwing my bag down.
“Excuse me?” He says lowly, still facing the desk.
I scoff. “You heard me.” I stalk up to his back and poke him hard between his shoulder blades, which are above my eye level. “Fuck. You.”
He straightens up but remains facing the wall. I feel my body tingle with rage.
“Ever since I got here, you’ve been the biggest asshole. Everyone has been telling me ‘oh, he’s not usually like this! He’s lovely, I swear!’ But you know what, Spencer? I don’t believe them.” I rant at the back of his head, finally allowing myself to let go.
“You don’t, do you?” His voice is cold.
“No, I think you’re an angsty, egotistical, misogynistic little boy who never got enough love from his parents, and sure as hell didn’t get enough love from whoever the fuck Jennifer is.” I poke him again, my temper only rising with my voice. “And I know you see me as some dumb fucking replacement! You think I haven’t picked up on that? Do you know how hard it is to join such a tight-knit group and not feel like a complete outsider?”
I feel the familiar prick of angry tears in my eyes and I try my hardest to swallow them down.
“I’m not asking to be your friend, Spencer!” I gulp down a breath. “I just want you to treat me with some fucking dignity!” As I raise my hand to poke him again, he whirls around and catches my hand mid-air. He stares down at me with anger simmering in his eyes.
“You think you’re a little profiler, don’t you?” He seethes. “Let me give you a hint, sweetheart. Just because you work with them, doesn’t make you on. You don’t know the first thing about me.” His grip on my hand tightens, hurting me a bit. But I’m too blind with rage to even feel it.
“Oh yeah? So why do you hate me then, Spencer? If it’s not because you’re in love with whoever had this job before me and so you resent me for taking her job, why do you hate me?” I match his glare, my eyebrows furrowing. “Enlighten me.”
He glares at me, saying nothing. The distant howling of wind fades into the background.
I scoff. “Exactly. You can’t say anything because you know I’m right.” I rip my hand out of his grasp and turn away but he reaches out to grab my arm and pulls me back to him. My chest is now pressed against his and I have to crane my neck to look him in the eye.
“You’re infuriating.” He states coldly. “And you’re also wrong. That’s not why I hate you.”
Finally! “So you admit it! You do hate-”I’m stopped by the hand not holding my arm comes up to cover my mouth. His long fingers encompass the whole of my face, gripping my jaw to silence me.
“Can you  shut up for one goddamn second?” He hisses down at me. I feel my face go red and can’t help the fearful anticipation that creeps up my spine. I also can’t help noticing how hot he looks when he’s pissed.
“I don’t hate you because you’re replacing JJ, or because you’re bad at your job. We both know you’re neither of those things” I’m shocked at his response. His eyes keep boring into mine. “I hate you because I should miss JJ way more than I do. I hate the way you do her job perfectly. I hate you because you’re smart, and witty, and fucked if I don’t see how attractive you are.”
My eyes widen and my heart begins pounding in my chest. His eyes are still fiery as they scan my face hungrily. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips.
“The thing I hate most about you, Natalie, is that I don’t hate you at all.”
His hand releases my jaw and my lips part, sucking in air. His hand slides into my hair and grabs a fistful of my hair at the nape of my neck, tilting my head up even further. My hands come up to balance myself on his chest and his pulls me towards his face and I rise onto my tip toes.
“I don’t hate you either.” I whisper and my eyes dart to his lips. As I meet his gaze once more, I see his resolve crumble.
And then he kisses me.
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Something Wicked - Part 2
Chapter Two - Dead Poets Society 
Warnings: angst, descriptions of extreme violence, swearing
A/N: thanks for all the love on part one! I had actually finished writing this second part last week but then I accidentally pressed Control-T and the whole thing deleted so... don’t press Control-T basically 🙃
Also, this is what I imagine Natalie to look like! I always like having a visual, ignore this picture if you don’t want her to look this way I guess ahaha (Rose Salazar for anyone who’s wondering)
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The drive to the police precinct is super uncomfortable. Spencer’s leg is pressed against mine the whole way, and because I’m stuck in the middle there’s nothing I can do to avoid it. He seems like he’s trying to position himself as far from me as possible as well, but the freaking spider has too-long legs that barely fit in the back of this SUV.
When we arrive, Immediately  put as much space between him and I as possible and seek out Chief Willoughby.
“Hi, Natalie Hart, public liaison for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. This is my…” I sense Spencer hovering over my shoulder, “colleague, Special Agent Spencer Reid.” I hold out my hand for the chief of police to shake.
He ignores my hand and instead scans me head to toe, staying silent.
“We’re here to assist you with the recent string of home invasions and murders?” I raise a brow at him.
Willoughby huffs. “Well, I can tell you it wasn’t my choice to get you guys to come on down here, but my second in command seems to have a lot of faith in your mind-reading mumbo jumbo.”
I drop my hand. This will be fun.
“Actually, Chief Willoughby, the job of the BAU is not to do any mind reading. We instead study cues and behaviour and use these skills in situations such as these to give insight into the people who commit these crimes. From there, we create a profile that aids your people to narrow down a suspect pool-“
Spencer is cut off by an aggressive cough from Willoughby.
“Yes okay, okay. It’s good you’re here. I got one of the officers to clear out an office for you, just that door there.” He points and we start to head over. Before I shut the door behind us, I look back at him and give him my best glare.
“I can only help as much as you let me, Chief. We want to stop this just as much as you do.” He stares back at me, eyes narrowed. “Don’t let your ego get in the way.” He nods once and turns on his heel.
“What did you say to him?” Spencer asks as I enter the office. He’s already got a map tacked to the wall and is circling specific points, I’m assuming where the murders happened.
“Does it matter?” I sigh, already at my wits end from dealing with one asshole. I don’t need another one on my back.
“We need to be courteous to these people, Natalie. If they ask us to leave because you snapped at him, then-“ He begins to berate me but I whirl around and point a finger up at him, seeing as he’s at least a head taller than me.
“Thanks for the lecture, John Lennon. Funnily enough, as a public liaison, I know how to deal with people. He needed to know we would take it seriously, and men like him never respect women who don’t stand up for themselves.” His eyes widen as I almost yell at him.
Before he can respond, the ringing of a phone breaks us out of our glaring contest. He picks it up quickly and exchanges a few words with whoever is on the other end before finally saying “We’ll be there in 10.”
He avoids my eyes and slings his back over his shoulder. “There’s been another family discovered. Same killer, Hotch wants us there ASAP.”
I nod wordlessly.
The second we arrive, journalists and TV crews flock the car.
“I’ll deal with them, meet you inside in a minute.” I wave Spencer off.
“You sure you can-“ he starts but I cut him off.
“Stop doubting me for one second and get your ass inside before I become your next unsub.” I smile sweetly at him, but he must see the rage in my eyes because he hurries away.
As the press clamours for information, I stand stoically in front of the cameras and answer their questions in the limited way I can.
“Yes, the FBI is here to assist in the investigation into the current string of murders. Yes, we are doing all we can to apprehend whoever is behind this. No, I will not be discussing the details of the case.”
One question in particular catches me off guard.
“Can you comment on the rumour he’s leaving written messages at the crime scene?” I search the crowd for whoever said that, but whoever did has faded into the crowd.
“As I said, I will not be discussing the case. Nothing more to be said at this point in time.” I turn on my heels, ignoring the yelling behind me, and disappear into the house.
I find the others in the living room and I’m confronted by blood. So much blood. The bodies of the family are strewn across the floor. I balk and cover my mouth in a fist, knowing I’d let out and embarrassing sound. I turn to face the doorway, avoiding the gore.
On the wall across from me are bright red words that send a chill down my spine.
Written in blood reads: I will drain him dry as hay
“You handled the press well. Hotch was impressed.” Rossi sneaks up behind me and I jump slightly at the sudden voice.
“Just doing my job.” I mutter. He pats me on the shoulder knowingly and turns back to the group.
I tune out their conversation as they discuss the bodies before them. I don’t need those images in my head. The bodies haphazardly covered by sheets is enough for me.
“The quote is another one from Shakespeare. Same play as the last one.” Spencer states, studying the wall.
“Yeah, Macbeth. Like Natalie said.” Emily smiled at me warmly. Spencer swallows thickly and shoots me a short, cold look.
“Exactly. Both quotes are actually from the three witches, who basically curse Macbeth for becoming so power hungry. In fact, Macbeth himself is the ‘something wicked’ that the first quote references.” He continues.
“So the unsub is attacking people he thinks are power hungry and successful?” Derek asks the room.
“I think that’s highly likely. So far, all the victims have been relatively wealthy families.” Hotch says without emotion.
“But if the unsub is targeting the man of the house, how come they’re the only ones that aren’t beaten.” Emily says. “They seem to get the most merciful death. The mothers, on the other hand…” everyone turns to look at the brutalised woman on the ground.
“In the play, Lady Macbeth is actually seen as the one controlling Macbeth and pushing him to be so ruthless.” I add quietly. Every head swivels to me.
“That’s a good point Natalie.” Hotch nods thoughtfully. Spencer even looks impressed with my observation. “The unsub might be targeting the women he believes are pushing their husbands to be successful.”
“Maybe a wife of his own left him because he didn’t achieve her standards? That could be the motive.” Derek says.
“And a stressor.” Emily sighs.
“So what, we just search up every guy in Memphis who’s recently been through a divorce?” Rossi scoffs. “That’ll take days. We need to narrow it down more.”
“Shakespeare seems to have a significant meaning to this unsub. I suggest we take that into account.” Spencer offers and I find myself nodding in agreement.
Derek pulls out a phone and dials quickly.
“You’ve reached the goddess of all things tech. How can I help you?” Garcia’s voice crackles through the speaker.
“Babygirl, we need a list of all antique book dealers and shops that sell old books. Pay special attention to those that deal a lot with Shakespeare.” Derek instructs. The sound of rapid typing then a beep follows.
“Ok, I’ve got around 78 bookstores and dealers that match that description. Anyway I can narrow that down for you?”
“Look at the men who have recently gone through divorce or have fallen on financial problems recently.” Rossi says into the phone.
More typing, then: “Ok, I’ve got three. A Joel Macpherson who runs an antique bookshop, Carl Thompson who specialises in  selling first-edition Shakespeare and to complete this triad of potential mass murders is Leopold van der Fell. His shop is on the other side of town and he runs a book club that exclusively reads Shakespeare."
“Send us the addresses please, baby girl.” Derek says and Garcia scoffs.
“Oh, yee have little faith. They’re already on your phones.” On more thank you and Hotch scans us.
“Rossi, you and Derek speak to Joel Macpherson. Reid, take Natalie and see Leopold. Emily and I will visit Carl Thompson.” Without a second word, everyone begins filing out of the room and into their respective cars.
Spencer looks at me and sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”
I roll my eyes and make my way to the car, hopping into the drivers seat.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Spencer asks as he gets in the passenger side.
“My god! Can I not do anything without you questioning me?” I cry, turning in my seat to face him. He stares at his hands.
“I meant that seeing that inside probably shook you up. I don’t want you driving if your head is elsewhere.”
I’m taken aback by his thoughtfulness. I swallow loudly and put the car in park, backing out of the driveway.
“I could use the distraction.” I answer after a stretch of silence.
I see him nod out of the corner of my eyes. “Okay, I get it.”
I allow myself to relax in my seat. “Thanks.” I mutter.
“But if you crash because you’re distracted, don’t say I didn’t want you.” He adds.
“There’s the asshole I know and love.” I turn the radio on and drown out his response. “Now, shut up and give me directions.”
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Something Wicked - Part One
Spencer Reid x Original Female Character 
Chapter One: Pretty Boy
warnings: angst, enemies to lovers (because that sometimes needs a warning lol) 
Summary: Natalie Hart is a talented journalist and David Rossi’s good friend with a keen interest of criminal psychology. The FBI hires her to fill in the gap of press liaison when JJ vacates the position. At first, Spencer resents her replacing his friend, but you know what they say: there’s a thin line between love and hate...
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“They’re gonna say this is nepotism.” I huff, fixing my hair in the reflection of the silver elevator walls. 
“Stop being silly. They’re going to love you.” David pats me on the back. The doors open with a ding and only David’s hand on my back keeps my from staying in my spot. He steers me through some double doors and into a large room. The bullpen, I gather. 
“Nepotism...” I sing under my breath. 
David Rossi, author extraordinaire and member of the famous behavioural analysis unit, just laughs at me. “They’re not going to say it’s nepotism because it’s not nepotism. You got this job because you earned it: because you’re good at what you do and they need someone like you on the team. Understood?” He grabs my shoulders in his hands and looks me deep in the eyes. 
I roll mine in response. “And the email you sent to the upper echelon of the FBI requesting that my application be ‘payed special attention’ has nothing to do with it?” 
He chuckles and steers me further into the room with a firm hand between my shoulder blades. “Even if it did, which I’m not saying it did,” He puts a hand up to stop me interrupting him, “it wouldn’t change the fact that you are the best person for this job. And the BAU respects people who are great at their jobs. So yes, angel, they will love you. End of discussion.” 
I’m still not feel very confident, but his faith in me and his team eases my anxiety. That is, until, he opens the door to a large office and I am immediately greeted by the stares of five FBI agents. 
“Thanks, David.” The one who seems to be leader nods at Rossi from the front of the room. Rossi squeezes my shoulder assuringly and takes a seat next to a woman with crazy blonde hair in pigtails. Not exactly what I pictured an FBI agent to look like. 
“Everyone, this is Natalie Hart. She will be taking over the position of public liaison in the absence of JJ. Natalie, this is Penelope Garcia, technical analyst.” He gestures to the blonde woman next to Rossi. “Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, you know David and I’m Aaron Hotchner.” He makes his way around the table and most of them nod or smile at me as they’re introduced. All except for the one called Spencer. He just stares. “Welcome to the BAU.” No extra dilly-dallying, just a sweeping gaze over the team and he is done with my introduction. 
“She looks a little young don’t you think, Hotch?” The man at the back - Derek, I think - speaks up. He has dark skin and a shiny bald head but a strong goatee. Not sure how I feel about the facial hair, but other than that he’s pretty handsome. 
“I-” I go to stand up for myself but am interrupted by a quiet voice from left. 
“Age is a not a precursor to success, or to any measure of talents in a specific field.” I whip my head around and meet eyes with the one called Spencer, still older than me but certainly the youngest of the team. He has long, brown hair that curls above his shoulders and intense eyes that are studying me. 
I nod gratefully at him. 
“But Morgan is right. She does look very young, and being the face of the BAU is a position that needs to be taken seriously. It could be a problem.” He shrugs, putting the end of a pen in his mouth. 
“What, just because she’s a young woman means she can’t be taken seriously?” The lady with dark hair laughs sarcastically. “JJ was.” 
“She’s not JJ.” Spencer spits and rises from his seat, avoiding eyes with everyone. 
“Um, hi. I’m right here. Let’s make one thing clear.” I cross my arms over my chest and scan the room. Derek raises an eyebrow at me and Aaron just stares at me. Rossi and the two women -Emily and Penelope- however, are sending me warm smiles. 
“I’m good at my job. I wouldn’t be here if I was anything less than great at what I do. I graduated top of my class at Brown and I’ve been doing this job for six years now. What I look like is of no importance.” Derek bows his head, obviously regretting saying what he did. “Now, I know I’m new and you’re all very close. I’m not trying to get in the way of that. All I’m asking is that you don’t condescend to me or talk about me like I’m not here. It’s disrespectful and I don’t appreciate being disrespected. Is that alright?” 
Silence stretches out. Rossi’s smile widens and he looks proudly at me. 
Aaron nods, a small smile on his lips.“You heard her. Play nice.” 
Immediately, Spencer unfreezes from his sport and stalks out of the room, not bothering to say goodbye. Aaron sighs and follows him out.
Penelope jumps out of her chair and runs over to me, grabbing my shoulders in excitement. “Welcome to the team! I’m Penelope, but everyone calls me Garcia. Except for Derek, he calls me the dirtiest things.” She smirks at Derek and winks obscenely at him. He just laughs and shakes his head.
“Emily. Nice to finally meet you. Nothing like a friendly interrogation on your first day.” Emily shakes my hand firmly and gives me a big smile. 
“I’m used to it, it comes with the territory.” I smile back. “Nice to meet you both.”
Derek steps past the ladies and holds his hand out. “I am sorry about before. I didn’t mean it like that.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “What did you mean it like?” 
“I’ve just always found that families or the police react warmer to a more mature looking person. They don’t like young people telling them what to do, or what they did wrong. It’s nothing personal, I swear.” His hand remains out. 
I nod, taking in his words, before grasping his hand. “No, I get that. But trust me, I’ll make them listen.” We share a smile. 
“I have no doubt about that after hearing you rip into us. It was deserved though, no doubt.” He lets go of my hand and Rossi comes up next to me, joining the growing circle.
“Don’t mind Spencer. He doesn’t like change.” He laughs. “He’ll come around.”
“I’m guessing he was close with Jennifer?” 
“The closest. Her leaving hit him hard. He’s just taking it out on you.” Emily says.
“I don’t think I need to be a profiler to figure that out.” I laugh and she and Garcia join in. 
“He’s normally really nice. I promise. Just give him a day or two.” Rossi pats me on the back. “Now, who’s in for dinner at mine?”
A day or two later
Spencer doesn’t glare at me anymore, which is nice. He just doesn’t look at me at all. I can’t tell which I liked less. At least with the glaring he was acknowledging my presence. 
The rest of the team has been completely welcoming. I even went out for drinks for Emily and Garcia on Friday. So. Much. Fun. Who would’ve thought that FBI agents would go so hard? Garcia I expected. Emily, not so much. 
The amount of cases that pass my desk every day is gut-wrenching, but nothing more so than me having to decide which ones to ignore and which to follow up on. I’ve come to Hotch three times now with a case that I’m certain needs our help, just for him to shake his head solemnly at me. 
Six women, all murdered in the span of six months from Seattle. I feel confident that we need to go ASAP. Hotch reads over the file and sets it down in front him.
“Seattle has a massive population with an even bigger crime rate. There’s nothing connecting these women apart from gender. Different races, ages, demographics... they’re not killed in the same way. We can’t be sure its serial.” 
“But-” 
“Natalie, if we chase this case down a rabbit hole, not certain that we can be of any use, what happens when we’re actually needed and we’re nowhere to be found?” I just nod and ignore the gnawing pit in my gut. He sees my hesitation. 
“It doesn’t get any easier.” He says as I reach the door. I pause, staring at my feet. “But saving the ones we can makes it worth it.” 
“How can we save people if none of these cases are appropriate?” I bite back. 
“It will come, Natalie. But we can’t go rushing into things. More people will get hurt, trust me.”
The next day, it turns out Hotch is right. A file from Memphis PD catches my eye and I all but spring to Hotch’s office after reading it thoroughly.
“Family annihilator. Memphis, Tennessee. Three families in two months, the latest family only two weeks after the second, and that was two days ago.” 
He pauses what he’s doing and stares me down. “How do we know they’re connected?”
I’m already prepared for the question. “In all three murders, the father is tied to a kitchen chair asphyxiated with a plastic bag. The rest of the family are beaten to death, tied at the hands and feet.” Hotch nods, agreeing with my analysis for once. “And he leaves a message.” I add.
“What message?” 
I take a deep breath and look back down at my notes. It’s the one thing I didn’t care to memorise. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”
Hotch stands and follows me out the door. “Round up the team. We’re going to Memphis.” 
***
I end up being stuck next to Spencer on the plane as he’s the last one to find a seat and the one next to the window on my left is the only option. He does not look happen about it. In fact, he sits with his legs crossed and angled away from me, basically putting his back to me. I roll my eyes at him. 
Hotch gathers out attention and Garcia’s face pops up on a screen. 
“Hello my furry friends, welcome to episode 200 of some whack job’s attempt at population control. Today on the show, we have...” The faces of the most recent victims pop up. She runs us through the families, their names, their professions and the tiny connection each of them have: a church choir that sang at two of the families schools’ and the most recent father’s christmas party. 
“It’s Shakespeare.” Spencer blurts, breaking out of his stony silence. Everyone seems startled, as if they had forgotten he was sitting there. “The message on the walls written in blood. It’s Shakespeare.”
“Macbeth, to be precise.” I add, backing him up. I smile at him, hoping he’ll appreciate that. He doesn’t. 
“If you’d had let me finish, I would have said that.” He spits. My mouth gapes. The rest of the plane is stunned too. 
“Spencer, is everything okay?” Emily asks softly. My face is burning and I feel heat rising in my chest but I push it down, taking deep breaths instead. 
Don’t let him see he gets to you.
“No, but let’s just keep pretending it is like we always do, right, Emily?” He stands abruptly and stalks to the back of the plane, muttering about coffee. Emily closes her mouth with a snap and shares a look with the rest of us. 
“Well that was uncalled for.” We all nod in agreement, and I can still feel angry tear pricking at my eyes. Ugh. Why did I have to be one of those people that cried when they’re angry? 
Emily places a soft hand on my shoulder. “You okay, Natalie? You didn’t deserve that.” 
I take a deep breath and tuck my dark behind my ears. “I know. I’ll be back, just going to the bathroom.” 
I need to get out from under those stares before I start actually crying. The attention will only fluster me more, and then it would just become an absolute trainwreck. 
I see the back of Spencer’s sweater as I near the back of the plane. He’s facing the wall, tinkering with the coffee pot. He turns to see who’s coming and pauses when he sees it’s me. I give him my best glare and shut the toilet door firmer than necessary. 
After splashing my face with cold water and fixing my shoulder-length brown hair, I smooth down my button up and stare at myself in the mirror. 
“He’s just a boy.” I tell myself, fixing my collar. “And we don’t let boys make us cry. So buck up.” Plastering an award-winning smile on my face, I open the door to find he’s not there. 
As I make my way back to my seat, I spy him sitting in the last row with Morgan, their heads bent down as they whisper. How I’d kill to know what they’re talking about. I take a spare seat next to Emily and she gives my leg a reassuring squeeze. 
“When we land, I want all hands on deck. The killer is speeding up, and if he keeps at it, he’ll hit again in the next couple of days.” Hotch addresses the plane. I have to lean my head around my seat to see him. I catch Spencer staring at me and swiftly ignore him, focusing on Hotch. 
“Rossi, I want you and Emily to go to the M.E and see what they have to say. Morgan, you and I will go to the latest home, learn what we can about this killer and his M.O.” I freeze, knowing who that leaves. “Spencer and Natalie, you two are to go to the Memphis police department and set up shop. Natalie, get a good rapport going with Chief Willoughby. He can be a difficult one, but I have faith in you.” He sends me a pointed look and I nod, my chest filling with pride. 
Finally, I get to do my job. 
Spencer doesn’t dare openly complain about being paired with me, but the second we land he hurries on over to Hotch. I stall within earshot, pretending to struggle with my bag. 
“I can’t have two members of my team unwilling to cooperate.” I catch Hotch saying. Spencer groans in protest. 
“I will cooperate! I just don’t see why you’re pairing me with her immediately. You know how I feel about her being here.” 
Ouch.
“How you feel is exactly why I’m doing this, Reid. I won’t have you moping around just because JJ left. You think she’d want you treating Natalie like this? She’d be disgusted.” The anger in Hotch’s voice is unmistakable, and it sends Spencer into silence. 
“Now, you will pull it together and start treating Natalie like a member of the team. Because she is. And I don’t care how much you’re angry at her for taking JJ’s job. That anger is misplaced. And you know it.” Hotch stalks off the plane, leaving just Spencer and I. I immediately busy myself, stuffing my jacket in my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, going to walk past him.
A hand reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me.
“Natalie, can we talk?” Spencer looks at me, his eyes filled with some sort of emotion. But I’m not a profiler, so hell if I know what is is. Probably just more resentment. 
“Why? So you can tell me more about how I’m some unwelcome replacement?” He opens his mouth the speak but I interrupt him. “Or better yet, why don’t we just glare silently at each other? You seem to like doing that.” He’s a good head taller than me so I have to tilt my head up to look at him.  
He doesn’t respond. Not that I was expecting him to. 
“I’ll meet you in the car, Spencer. I’d hate to keep the others waiting. I’m nice like that.” With a sarcastic smile, I leave him standing awkwardly in the aisle of the jet.
For someone with such an angelic face, he sure does make himself pretty hateable. 
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Multi-Part Spencer Reid fic INCOMING
yep, y’all read that right. I’m currently re-watching Criminal Minds so here’s incoming a multi-part Spencer Reid fic full of smut and an original female character, sorry for those people that love the whole Y/N thing. I do too, but I wanna flesh this out as much as possible and I feel like I need an OG character to do that with!! 
ALSO there will be some hella cute tropes in this, stay tuned to find out which ones...
I’m working on some requests atm so I promise y’all I haven’t forgot about them, but when inspiration strike I just gotta go with the flow!!
Mwah xoxo
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Draco Malfoy x Original Female Character - Devil In Me (part I)
DID SOMEBODY SAY DRACO MALFOY?!?! *cheering erupts as I arise from the grave* 
Trying something a little different with this one! should be about 3-5 parts, lots of nice smut but also a pinch of character development, a smattering of fluff, a sprinkle of angst and (shock horror) an original female character?? 
Let me know how y’all feel about this, should be fun! 
BTW IT IS SET IN THEIR FIFTH YEAR (GOF) TIME BUT IS NOT CANON OK? OK.
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“Hufflepuff!” 
The shout echoes off the stone walls of the great hall and I slide off the chair, praying I didn’t leave any sweat marks behind me; it would be just my luck. Walking over to the table of cheering Hufflepuffs all wrapped up in their yellow scarves, I try not to let my prejudices get the better of me. 
But seriously, Hufflepuff is the worst house, everyone knows that. It’s for the kids who don’t belong anywhere else: the rejects. We’re basically just a band of outcasts with a reputation for being overly friendly. Maybe it is the perfect house for me. 
“Welcome to Hufflepuff! My name’s Phillip, I’m head boy. Come take a seat next to all the other first years.” A heavyset boy with an upturned nose and big eyes welcomes me warmly. I shake his pudgy hand and slide in next to an asian girl with jet black hair. She smiles awkwardly at me. 
“Hi, I’m Joe.” She says over the uproar coming come Gryffindor table; a lanky kid with fire-truck red hair slinks over to them.
“I’m Marnie. Nice to meet you.” I smile back, hoping to god I’ve just made my first friend. 
“Draco Malfoy!” The voice of the hat booms out and a pale kid with white blonde hair saunters up to the chair. He has an unmistakable air of confidence and he smirks as the hat hover above his head for a second before declaring loudly: “SLYTHERIN!” 
“God, he looks like a twat.” Joe says to me. I laugh in agreement, something about his eyes reminds me of a snake slowly constricting around its prey and watching them closely with sick fascination, waiting for them to notice that the end is nigh. 
“Too right. I tell you what, I’d rather be in Hufflepuff than in Slytherin.” We both turn up our noses at the raucous table full of green scarves and sly smiles. 
“I’m with you on that one mate, bunch of lunatics over there. No wonder they keep them in the dungeons.” I laugh loudly at Joe’s remark and the silver haired boy, Draco I think, looks up at me. Our eyes meet and my laugh dies off, quickly turning into an awkward stare down which he wins without contest. I look away quickly and study the engravings on my fork. 
“Don’t look now, but Mister Albino just caught me laughing at him.” I whisper to Joe. She very obviously whips her head up and stares back at him.
“Oh yeah. He just saw me look as well. Awkward.” She goes red and we both duck our heads down.
“That’s why I told you not to look, dumbo!” I whisper yell at her, giving her a side-eye through the curtain of my brown hair. 
“Well sorry! There’s a reason I’m in Hufflepuff, not Ravenclaw!” She whisper yells back, and we both burst into uncontrolled laughter. 
Yep, I’ve definitely made my first friend. 
++
FOUR YEARS LATER
“Ugh, you’d think they didn’t know what a shower was in Romania.” Joe turns up her nose as some exceedingly smelly Durmstrang students skulk pas.
“Is that where they’re from?” I ask absentmindedly, flicking lazily though the pages of The Quibbler. My head is resting on Joe’s back and we lounge in the sun, enjoying the final days of summery weather. Joe picks at the grass, her feet kicking in the air behind her. 
“What are you two losers doing?” A gleeful voice calls out across the grounds. Our friend Reggie makes his way over, not without gawking at some Beauxbatons girls strutting past. 
“Something that requires more than your one braincell, sorry Reg.” I quip back as he nears us. 
“Yeah, sorry mate! You don’t meet the requirements for our exclusive club.” Joe squints up at Reggie as he towers over us, which he doesn’t do often. The five-foot eight blondie with cherubic features is cute, in like a coochie-coochie-coo way. A shame, really, as Reggie has the biggest crush on Joe, who I’m pretty sure has no idea. 
“Damn, and all this time I thought you were too threatened by my knack for comedic timing to be my friends.” He pouts playfully and splays on the grass next to us. 
“I think an owl shat down your back.” Joe points out, sending Reggie into a fit; rolling all over the grass. 
“What?! Get it off me! Where??” He squeals, trying to tug his robes around to see the back. 
“There’s no owl shit, is there.” I mutter to Joe, not trying to hide my smile. 
“Of course not.” She whispers back before pointing to an unreachable spot on Reggie’s back. “Just there, Reg! You’re so close!” 
He rolls towards us with unexpected speed and begins to steamroll on top of Joe, which I guess has more to do with an excuse to be near her than any imagined owl shit. 
“And this is my cue, see you lovebirds back in the common room later.” I laugh as I heave myself off the ground, slinging my book bag over my shoulder.
“What! Where you going?” Joe looks up at me from under a writhing blonde. 
“I need to return some books to the library and give Professor McGonagall her copy of trans-fig four back. I spilt ink on mine, remember?” 
“Okay Marnie! See ya later!” Reggie has no problem waving me goodbye and pretty soon, Joe is back to laughing in fits as he continues to roll around. 
I walk back into the school and start making my way towards the library. I see a flash of silver and green disappear into an empty classroom as I turn into a deserted hallway. Draco Malfoy.
Curious, I creep quietly towards the door. As I near it, I begin to hear sniffles and shuddering breaths. Is he... crying?! 
Not wanting to intrude on an obviously private moment, I back away slowly. Before I can make it two steps, however, the door swings open and there stands an incredibly pissed Draco Malfoy. 
I freeze in my place, looking up at him startled. I didn’t mean for him to know that I knew that he was crying, but now, as he stares down at me with his cold blue eyes and permanent scowl, I know that he knows that I know that he was crying. 
Good god. 
“I’m... I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” I straighten up, looking up at his towering figure sincerely. 
“Eavesdropping a habit for you, is it?” He spits at me. 
“No, it isn’t. I heard crying and just wanted to make sure that whoever it was was ok.” I explain, holding my hands out in a pacifying way. 
“You’re a stupid little busy body, go stick you nose elsewhere.” His anger only rises as I stand my ground. 
“Well that was unnecessarily rude, wasn’t it?” I raise an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms. He looks taken aback. 
“Who do you think you are? You’re just a stupid Hufflepuff.” He laughs devilishly down at me, taking a step forward towards me. 
“And you’re an emotionally fragile little boy who can’t see a helping hand if it slapped him.” I shoot back. “Apparently.” I add, unsure as to why he was crying and not wanting to jump to any conclusions. 
“Help?” He scoffs, laughing sarcastically. “Does it look like I need help?” He spreads his arms out to apparently show all the great things he has going for him, but all I see is a sullen, silver haired boy with red rimmed eyes, wet eyelashes and dark circles as deep as tartarus, 
“I don’t know, Draco, I’m not the one crying in empty classrooms. Do you need help?” I ask him sincerely, taking a step towards him. My mother always said that too much of anything was a bad thing, including compassion. That was always going to be the death of me. I’d likely get stabbed by someone and hope it made them feel better. 
“Not from the likes of you.” He seethes
“Well, no accounting for bad taste. See you around.” I shrug, turning my back on Draco and continuing down the hall. Silence stretches out and the only sound is the clop of my shoes on the concrete. 
“I know who you are, Marnie Millicent.” He calls out after me, and the way he says my name has the hair on my neck standing up. “You’re on my radar now.” Although it sounds like a threat, I’m not too sure what being on Draco’s ‘radar’ entails. 
“Like I said, see you around.” I call back just before rounding the hallway and attempting to wipe any trace of Draco from my mind. 
But just like a red wine stain on white leather, he won’t leave. 
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HEY WASSUP HELLO
I AM SO SORRY I DIPPED FOR SO LONG!!! I got dumped :// but now I am filled with bad bitch energy and ready to stake up on this site for a good while! 
I’m feelin’ fun and fresh and ready for some funky!! Hit y’all with some fics soon xoxo
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an apology and a promise
Hello my dear followers/readers/poor soul who stumbled upon my page! I have been absent for an absolutely unacceptable amount of time for which I would like to sincerely apologise. It is very unfair of me to have left you all high and dry for so long. As you all know, we are in the midst of a global pandemic and I’m sure that like me, many of you are stuck inside your homes. Fortunately, I now have a lot of free time in which I have a number of things I need to get done... I think we all know where this is heading.
I have returned! Let’s make the most of this incredibly shitty, terrifying and depressing situation with a good old dumping of smut. Stay tuned for a whole load of fics coming your way; keep the requests coming and the love flowing! I love seeing all of your comments and reblogs, it really makes my week.
On another quick note: I am well aware that the domestic violence and depression/mental illness rates have skyrocketed during this isolation period. I want to let you all know that my DM’s are open to anyone needing help and/or a friend during this time. I know it’s not easy, and even though I am just some random smut-writer on this site, I promise I am very friendly and very understanding.
Well, that’s all (for now) folks! I’ll see you in a bit with another fic that might change your perspective on this lockdown situation...
xoxo
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Bucky Barnes x Reader - Blowing His Mind
Summary: I mean, the title pretty much says it all...
Warnings: Oral (male receiving), dirty talk, rough
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It all started with one of Sam Wilson’s snide remarks, as all things usually do. 
A group of you were sitting around the kitchen counter, devouring an incredible lunch that Banner had whipped up. You were perched on a high stool next to Bucky, your sort-of boyfriend, who wasn’t really your boyfriend but was basically your boyfriend. 
Somehow, you all got onto the topic of sex. It was a talent that these super-charge freedom fighters possessed: diverting any conversation back to sex. Boys will be boys and all that jazz, although with that being said, Natasha always egged them on; if only to see Bruce blush. 
“Ok guys, but real question: what would it be like to get a blowie from a vampire?” You definitely chose the wrong time to zone in on the conversation.
“What the fuck are you guys going on about?” You laughed, clutching your stomach. 
‘Well, you would know if you weren’t too busy making googly eyes at Tin-Man over there.” Tony snickered before dodging your kick. 
“Doesn’t sound like we were missing much,” Bucky grumbled, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you away from your efforts to nail Tony in the shins with your steel-toed boots. You gave Tony a stink eye and allowed yourself to be tucked into the side of the massive super-soldier.
“Oh, man, you have no idea what you’re missing.” Sam let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“What, a vampire blowjob?” Bucky scoffed.
“No, just a good old, regular blowjob.” Sam countered. You felt Bucky stiffen next to you. 
“How the fuck would you know what I’m missing out on?” He growled, but you couldn’t help but feel upset for him. You hadn’t thought to do that for him yet, and you had no idea whether he had actually experienced one before. 
Not that it’s necessary to do that; sucking someone’s dick does not define a relationship, but still, the number of times he’s eaten you out, and nothing in return? You decided you’d have to change that, and soon. 
“Oh sorry, I forgot you were living it up as a bachelor for the last few decades.” Sam rolled his eyes, making everyone snicker. 
You could sense the tension rolling off Bucky’s form so you squeezed his hand before standing up abruptly. 
“Oh god guys, I really don’t feel so good all of a sudden.” You moaned, clutching your stomach. Bucky immediately stood up, looking greatly concerned. You met his eyes through the curtain of your hair and gave him a tiny wink. He looked puzzled but didn’t say anything. 
“You think it was the food?” Bruce looked horrified and began to walk towards you but you held up a hand.
“No, no, of course not. Probably just overtired, need to have a lie-down.” You waved him off. “Take me to my room?” You whispered to Bucky, looking up at him seductively through your eyelashes. 
He blinked once, twice, before shaking himself out of his trance and nodding quickly. “Of course.” You grabbed his hand and led him out of the room, not even bothering to wave goodbye to anyone. Natasha gave you a knowing smirk as you walked past her, but your face told her that if she said anything, she’d be toast.
“What was all that about, Y/N?” Bucky said as you waited impatiently for the elevator. 
“I had an epiphany.” You stated simply, stepping into the metal box once the doors chimed open. He followed you in and crowded you into a corner. 
“About vampires and blowjobs?” He questioned, trailing a metal finger along your hip. You arched into him, but he only pushed against your further, your lower back now digging into the bars of the elevator. 
“Mm...” you breathed as you ground against him, “just the latter, actually.” 
Bucky stiffened and raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that right?” His voice had dropped a couple octaves and its husky timbre sent shivers down your spine. 
You opened your mouth the reply but the ding of the elevator doors opening interrupted you. Instead, you grabbed Bucky by the hand and tugged him down the hallway to your room. Once inside, you pushed him onto the couch, where he sprawled out, still studying your face with a creased brow. 
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N.” He stated, fixing you with a look. 
“I know.” You replied simply before swiftly kneeling in front of him and resting your chin on his knee, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “But I really, really, really want to do this.” You assured him, running a hand up his thigh. His breathing stuttered and his eyelids drooped, but he was determined to keep his eyes on you. 
“Well, if you insist.” He smirked, but it was all twisted up with lust. You returned his crooked smile and began to unbuckle his belt, and then his jeans. 
“You’ve really never had a blowjob before?” You asked, making him groan. 
“No, but thank you for making me feel a lot better about it.” He rolled his eyes, hissing as you pulled his engorged cock out of his jeans. You gripped it tightly, it’s girth too big for you to wrap your hand around it fully.
“No, I’m glad I can be your first.” You teased, moving your hand slowly up and down his immense length. “Because I’m going to ruin you. And if any other woman puts her mouth around your cock, all you’re going to be able to think about are my lips.” You smirked confidently, daring him to challenge you. 
Of course, he did.
“Oh, you reckon?” He chuckled, but it was forced. His eyes were almost black with lust, his breathing was laboured and his hips were bucking gently into your hand. 
“You doubting me?” You gasped, mockingly offended. In truth, his challenge only spurred you on. “I guess I do have something to prove after all.” You winked at him, but then you were done with talking. 
You dipped your head and licked a broad stripe up his cock, from base to tip. He shuddered under you, his head falling back as a low groan escaped from his lips. 
You kitten licked the tip of his member, lapping up the precum that was dripping from it. He looked down at you through half-closed eyes and you held eye contact as you enveloped him in your mouth in one dip, taking him as far as you could. 
Bucky groaned and his flesh hand came up to grip your head, pulling your hair. You moaned at the feeling of his control slipping, and the vibrations that your moan sent up his cock made his hips jut upwards, sending his cock further down your throat. 
You pulled off him, catching your breath and sending him a seductive wink before you engulfed him again. Your hand that was wrapped around the base massaged the parts that you couldn’t fit. 
“Fuck, dollface,” Bucky grunted and you spied his metal hand gripping the edge of the couch with so much force that he had ripped into it. Breathing through your nose, you took him further, hollowing your cheeks and fluttering your tongue against him. The wet heat of your mouth continued to suck him closer to you, and his hips began to twitch. 
You pulled your head up and sent him a dark look. ‘Don’t hold back, you won't hurt me.” You demanded. He opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off with a flick of your wrist along his member. “I mean it, Buck.” You returned to your task and moaned appreciatively when he followed your advice and began to apply a bit more pressure to the back of your head, which only egged him on. 
You began to pick up a rhythm: lifting your head almost completely off him and suck vigorously on the tip until he was writhing, and then take his cock as far into your mouth as you could, swallowing around him. Each time he felt the walls of your throat contract around him, he let out a litany of curses and clutched your hair even tighter. 
“Shit, Y/N.” He growled as you moved your hand in tandem with your mouth and picked up the pace. The wet sounds of you mouth around his cock filled the room, along with your heavy breathing and his quiet groans which were growing louder by the second. 
You reached your unoccupied hand up to push his shirt above his navel, so you could see his abs flex with each movement of his hips. You looked up at him from under your lashes and saw him watching you with complete awe on his face. 
His eyes were half-closed, and you could tell he was battling to him keep himself from screwing them shut and throwing his head back. His full lips were parted and his tongue darted out to wet them. His eyebrows were pulled together, and under them were his dark eyes that were fixed on your lips as the stretched around his member. 
You scraped your nails along his abs, bring your hand back down towards his groin. With your tongue, you found a prominent vein along his length and traced it, eliciting a deep moan from Bucky.
“I’m close, doll,” He grunted as he pushed your head even further down involuntarily. “Fuck, sorry.” he cursed when you gagged. You shook your head lightly and pushed yourself down, once again gagging around his tip. 
“Y/N... holy fuck.” His hand tightened in your hair and his eyes widened as he watched you drink him down more and more. Tears were gathering in your eyes but you pushed through it, eager to blow his mind. Literally. 
“I’m gonna... mm, fuck.” Bucky cursed, his hips losing their rhythm and falling out of time with your thrusts. You held his hips down with your hand, or at least tried to, and stilled your other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing gently as you lifted your head up and connected your eyes with his.
“Cum for me, Buck.” 
His back arched off the couch as you covered the tip of his cock with your mouth, sucking hard. Your tongue flitted against his frenulum and he came harder than he ever had before. You felt his seed hit the back of your throat and sucked harder, causing him to cry out. 
His eyes screwed shut and his head fell back against the couch. The hand in your hair tightened even more, but you were just grateful it wasn’t his metal hand, as that had ripped through the couch cushions and was indenting his fingers into the wood beneath the stuffing. 
His mouth was mouthing your name but only harsh breaths and grunts came out. You greedily swallowed every last drop he had to offer, and only when he began to shudder and pull on your hair did you let up. 
You pressed a final kiss to his tip before shifting onto your heels, giving your legs a break (as they had fallen asleep). 
His eyes were still shut and he was muttering your name like a mantra as he stroked the side of your face tenderly with his metal hand. He removed his other hand from your hair and gripped you under your arm, pulling you up onto his lap where he cradled you against his chest.
You straddled his waist and cupped his face in your hands, waiting for him to catch his breath. Once he did, his blue eyes opened to look deep into yours and you smiled mischievously. 
“I think I proved my point, no?” You smirked, tracing your fingernail across his lips lightly. He replied with a hard kiss on your mouth, not caring about his own taste. Actually, the groan he let out told you he maybe enjoyed tasting himself on you. 
“Sweetheart, that is an understatement.” He murmured against your lips. You smiled back and kissed him deeper. His hands dipped to your ass and he squeezed, making you squeal. 
“Buck, you-” You began but he shut you up with a punishing kiss. 
“You may have put James junior out of action for a couple of minutes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have other talents.” He smirked before standing up abruptly and ripping your shirt over your head. 
“Are you serious?” You asked, but you could feel heat pooling in your stomach already. Watching Bucky getting off had gotten you seriously wet, and although you were more than happy to just have a shower to cool you off, you were ecstatic and the turn this was taking. 
“Dollface, get on the bed and spread your legs.” He demanded with a crooked smile, and you obeyed. 
“You’re going to get so many blowjobs if it always leads to this.” You said breathily as he advanced towards you, pulling his own shirt over his head after shucking off his jeans. 
“I think I can live with that.” He growled before pouncing on you. 
fin
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this scene is the inspiration for my next fic... stay tuned ;))
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sooo
I just wrote almost an entire fic then my computer crashed :)) !! 
Sorry folks, stay tuned for the next one though!
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what next??
I’ve got a couple ideas in mind for my next fic but wanted to leave it up to you guys to decide! We have:
- a dark!Steve Rogers
- a Tony Stark semipublic 
- a follow-up to my first Thor fic (meets you in a revel etc...)
let me know what y’all want and I’ll get onto it asap! 
xoxo
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Loki x Reader - In the Dark of the Night
Prompt: You wake up in the middle of the night, and decide there are better things to do than sleep...
Warnings: Smut, rough, choking, dom/sub, sleepy!Loki, dirty talk, oral 
                                                           ***
You were awoken by the sudden need to pee. The mundane urge had you tiptoeing quickly to the bathroom, as you tried to not wake up your sleeping boyfriend.
You left the bathroom feeling ten pounds lighter and were thrilled to see that Loki was still fast asleep. He was sprawled out on his stomach, his jet black hair cascading across his pillow and his left arm unconsciously spread out into the empty space you had just left. His pale back shone in the moonlight that filtered in from the open curtain, the sheets pooled just above the curve of his ass. 
Even in sleep, his back muscles were tense and stood out in dips and ridges in the pale light. You regarded him with hooded eyes, all traces of sleep leaving your body and quickly being replaced with another emotion. Unadulterated lust. 
When it came to the God of Mischief, you couldn’t get enough. Luckily, the feelings were mutual and the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other. You bit your lip as the muscles along his back contracted with each deep breath he took, and you thought about how those muscles could be used differently.
Like him on top of you... 
You squeezed your thighs in an attempt to ebb your arousal, but the friction only spurred it on. You shook your head, deciding that no, you weren’t going to wake him up for another round, a mere couple of hours after the last several. You weren’t that much of a sex fiend. 
And honestly, you would’ve stuck to your resolve, if he hadn’t had flipped onto his back, and if the outline of his giant cock wasn’t extremely visible through the thin, white sheet that was not curled dangerously low around his hips. 
His abdominals were highlighted as he raised an arm above his head, settling into the cushions once more, his legs spread eagle across the bed. 
Smirking deviously, you crept to the foot of the bed and ducked under the sheets, shuffling up the enormous expanse of the mattress until you found his foot, then his knees, then his thighs, then his...
You trailed your fingers up his lean thighs, eyeing the subtle shifts on tendons under his skin, the goosebumps that follow in their wake, but nothing wakes him yet. Your warm breath ghosting over his groin made him tense but doesn’t rouse him. At least, it didn’t wake him up. Other parts of him were certainly... rousing. 
You decided you wanted to watch his face as he wakes up to you at his cock, and so you pulled the sheet off your head and kicked it behind you. The cool night air raised the hairs on your arms, but you knew you wouldn’t stay cold long. 
His dick lay flaccid against his stomach, still sizeable even soft. You placed a soft kiss of the tip and watched in satisfaction as blood began to fill it. You brought your knees up under you so you were kneeling between his sprawled legs. 
You gripped his hardening cock and pressed another kiss on the tip, this one lingering a bit longer. His eyelids fluttered and his abdominals contracted, but he still slept on. You decided you’d need to do a bit more to wake him up, so you dipped your head and lick a fat stripe up his shaft. A small gasp left his mouth and his hand snaked down towards you. You could tell he was only seconds away from waking up, and from being fully erect, so you engulfed him fully in your mouth. 
As you did so, his eyes fluttered open and his hand gripped the back of your head, carding through your hair. You groaned around his cock at the feeling of his large hand pulling at your hair. 
His eyes were still half-closed, but you could see him becoming more aware of what was happening by the second. 
You hollowed your cheeks and pulled your mouth nearly off him, before dipping back down, your hand stroking whatever couldn’t fit. Suddenly, his eyes opened completely.
“Morning, sweetheart.” He said, his voice husky with sleep, which only added to the fire growing in your stomach. You pulled off him with a wet pop and grinned mischievously at him. 
“Sleep well, Loki?” You asked him teasingly, continuing to pump him with your hand. 
“Mm, you could say that.” He said quietly, stroking your hair. His gentleness took you by surprise, but you surmised he was still too sleepy to take control just yet, so you pressed kisses along the shaft of his dick, from base to tip. 
“You know, I was having the best dream,” He started, groaning quietly when you took him back in your mouth. You hummed in response, making him tighten his grip on your hair once again. “My beautiful angel was kneeling before me, hands tied and mouth gagged, her hair all mussed up.” As he said this, you felt yourself become even wetter and dipped a hand between your own legs. 
Unfortunately, or fortunately, rather, Loki noticed this and pulled your mouth off his cock with a rough hand, propping up on his elbow to pull your face close to his. His eyes were lust-blown and nearly black, and his usually perfectly-gelled hair was falling across his forehead and over his shoulders. 
“What is your plan here?” He demanded, his voice still gravelly and shiver-inducing. “I’m awake, and I’m horny as hell, so what do you propose we do now?” His usual mischevious tone was there, but so was absolute dominance. You crawled up the length of his body and settled with your legs straddling his hips. 
He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs under him, you wrapped around his hips on top of him. You arms snaked over his shoulders and trailed through his hair, gaining a purr from your boyfriend. He set his hands on your hips, massaging your skin through the fabric of your thin silk nightie. 
“I want...” You trailed off breathlessly, your back arching as his hands lowered to grip your ass, which caused your naked core to grind against his rock-hard member. His gaze darkened even more if that was possible, and a low growl emitted from the god. He was much too impatient to play his usual games and told you as much. 
“You have five seconds to tell me what you want, sweetheart before I pin you down and take you.” He narrowed his eyes, inching your nightie over your thighs and up to your waist, his hands leaving trails of fire in their wake. 
“One,” he began, not taking his eyes off you. You racked your brain for the words but they wouldn’t come. Each brain cell you had was focused on the way his hands gripped your waist and the way his hips rocked his cock lightly against your core, torturing you with feather-light touches. 
“Two,” His head dipped to your neck and he placed soft kisses along your jaw, pulling you closer and subsequently making your hips grind down harder on his. You stifled a moan. 
“Three,” He began to suck a dark mark on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you bared your neck to him eagerly. You almost forgot about your time limit before he growled: “Four. Running out of time, my love. What do you want? Tell me now, or...” he trailed off menacingly, but his tone and the promise of something else made your decision for you. 
He placed kisses up your neck and along to your ear, where he stopped. “Five.” He whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. He pulled back and arched a brow at you, “Time’s up.” 
You looked him defiantly in the eyes and set your jaw, your silence speaking volumes. Understanding dawned on him and a smirk settled on his lips, his eyes shining. He tugged your nightie over your head and discarded it. 
“You’re mine now.” He growled and gripped your jaw roughly. His entire demeanour changed in a second: his muscles tightened, his jaw clenched, his eyes lost all traces of sleep and pure, unadulterated lust, filled them. He bared his teeth in a Cheshire grin and wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 
He claimed your mouth possessively, and you had no option but to surrender completely. His tongue traced your gums, his teeth nipped at your bottom lip and you could swear you tasted blood. The hand on your jaw slipped to your throat and lightly squeezed the sides of your neck, constricting your breathing just enough to keep you panting. 
Loki’s hips gyrated against yours, pushing his leaking cock along your slit with each shift. His arm around your waist dropped until it rested on your ass, which he kneaded roughly. You squealed as he smacked it thrice quickly before soothing it with a soft rub. 
“You like that, don’t you? You filthy little slut.” He growled against your lips. 
“Only for you.” You panted and earned a satisfied grin in response. His hand dipped lower, following the curve of your ass until his fingertips brushed your centre. You mewled and thrust back, trying to create some friction, but he wouldn’t allow it. 
“Uh-uh, sweetheart. You lost that privilege.” He reminded you with a smirk. You groaned and instead bucked forwards, rubbing your clit against the head of his cock. You moaned at the feeling and he hissed, squeezing your throat tighter. 
“Ok, that’s enough,” Loki rumbled and within seconds you were on your stomach, pinned underneath him with your hands tied behind your back with an invisible bond. Loki straddled your thighs, his hands splayed on your ass. You arched your back, trying to press back into him, but he held you down. 
“This was your doing, my love. You knew the consequences.” You could basically hear the self-satisfied smirk in his voice, and he punctuated the word ‘consequences’ with a hard slap on your ass. You cried out and jerked under him, and again as another followed. The mix of pleasure and pain was almost too much for you, and you didn’t know if you should cum or cry. 
“Please, Loki.” You sobbed, pulling at your hands. He gripped your hair and pulled your head back, leaning forward until his lips were at your ear and his dark hair was falling across your face. 
“You don’t get to plead.” He let you go and your head fell back against the pillows. You felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back until your ass was in the air, completely baring yourself to him. He placed two light kisses on each cheek before you heard him shift, the mattress bouncing underneath you both and he positioned himself at your entrance. 
Without any warning, he thrust into you. Hard. You bit down on the pillow to stifle your scream. He filled you up so completely, and then some. But he didn’t allow you to adjust. He adopted a rapid pace, impaling you over and over and over again until you were a quivering mess underneath him. 
His hands gripped your hips, leaving marks the shape of his slender fingers. One of his hands reached up to wrap around your hair, which he yanked back until he could see the tears forming in your eyes. The tension in your stomach was building as if each nerve was carrying pure pleasure and feeding it into the knot behind your navel. 
“Is this what you wanted?” He asked, once again bending over so he was at your ear, his pace never relenting. You couldn’t form any words so you just moaned, but he got the message. “Good, because it’s what you’re going to get. Until you pass out or can’t walk. Whatever comes first.” 
At his promise: you couldn’t help but shiver. The tension was becoming too much to hold back, and your hands griped fruitlessly at the air as your impending orgasm loomed over you. 
“Loki, I-” you cried, but it was too late. It hit you like a tsunami, pulling you under and refusing to spit you back out as he kept pounding into you. You shook like a leaf under him, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and you rode through your orgasm. 
“That’s it, princess.” He praised, his grip relaxing on your hair, allowing your upper body to slump against the mattress. He slowed down just enough to shift your position. You were suddenly on your side, with Loki behind you. His chest pressed up against your back, his cock still sheathed in you. He grabbed your leg behind your knee and hitched it up, opening you for him. 
The new angle was hitting spots in you that made you see stars. You didn’t even have time to recover properly before your second orgasm was building, bigger than the first. His breath was harsh across the side of your face, and he began to nibble on your ear lobe. 
He knew that was your sweet spot, and the sensations sent sparks across your skin. His other hand wormed its way under your body and around to your front, where he began to pinch your nipples between his long fingers. 
Your second orgasm crept up on you, and before you knew it you were under. You curse and swore, your one hand reached behind you to delve into his hair and the other was over the top of his on your breasts, squeezing his fingers. 
“That’s my good girl, cum for me again.” He murmured into your ear. As you came down, you realised he hadn’t stopped fucking you, hadn’t even slowed down. On the contrary, he had actually sped up. 
“Loki, I can’t...” You panted and moaned, trying to buck away from him, but it only egged him on. You felt him smile against the shell of your ear and hitch your leg higher, driving him deeper in you. 
“This is what happens when you wake me up, Y/N.” He grunted, “Did you really expect I’d just go back to sleep, with you and that mouth of yours all over my cock. Driving me insane.” His voice was still husky and sent goosebumps down your spine. 
His hand on your breasts inched up to your throat and circled it once again. He forced you to bow your back against him, creating a whole new angle that was driving you insane. The overstimulation was almost too much but exactly right at the same time.  
“C’ mon sweetheart. One more for me.” He growled, and you could tell he was close from the increased fervour of his hips and the tremor in his voice. His other hand let go of your leg, but before you could close your legs, he hooked it over his bent knee, spreading you out even more. His fingers dipped to the apex of your thighs, rubbing small, fast circles on the bundle of nerves there. 
“Now, Y/N. Cum with me.” He ordered, and you could only obey. Your mouth opened in a silent scream and tremors hit your body, making you twitch. He let out a low series of grunts as he finished in you, his thrusts slowing as he emptied himself inside of you. 
As he did this, he kept his fingers moving on your clit. You bucked and tried to close your legs, to stop the pleasurable torture, but his knee prevented you from doing so. You clawed at the hand on your neck, leaving scratches across his knuckles and wrist. The more you tried to get away from his hand, the further you drove yourself onto his cock: there was no escape. 
“Loki-” You gasped, trying to push his hand away, but to no avail. It continued to inflict its sweet torture. He breathed a dark laugh and another orgasm crashed over you.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you blacked out. 
You came to about forty seconds later. Loki had pulled out and was spooning you from behind, his head nuzzled against the nape of your neck. He had his arms wound around you, and his leg was draped over your own. 
You were cocooned by the God of Mischief. 
You snuggled closer to him and let yourself relax into his arms. He smiled against your neck and pressed a light kiss there. 
“You said only one more.” You yawned, completely spent. He chuckled. 
“Well, technically I said until you passed out. Or couldn’t walk.” He quipped. “It’s not my fault it took another orgasm to do that.”
“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been able to walk after the second one.” You frowned playfully, earning another laugh. 
“I couldn’t be bothered to test that theory. Now sleep.” He demanded, pulling you impossibly closer. You smiled and closed your eyes, satisfied for the next couple of hours. 
Or until he got his payback on you for waking him up...
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lots of love :))
if you need a good, yah know, smut writer, @slutforgoodliterature is great :). they're really under rated for their writing and I just hope that this message gets out far :,)
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Pietro Maximoff x Reader - Let Me Prove It To You
This was a request from one of you guys! I’m so excited to start doing more requests so feel free to send them in. 
To the babe that requested this, this one’s for you! You know who you are ;)
Summary: Pietro and Wanda are introduced to the rest of the Avengers, and he is immediately drawn to you. You, however, believe that no one like Pietro could ever be into you... until all of a sudden he really, truly, deeply is. 
Warnings: smut (slow burn), angst, dirty talk (in his accent omfggg) 
Hold on to your seats guys and dolls coz it’s gonna be a doozy
AU | that Pietro didn’t die bc that shit is sad as heck, so let's pretend he survived Age of Ultron ok :))
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“Listen up you lot!” Tony’s voice rang out across the common area, where he and Steve had called a team meeting. 
They had just returned from a massive fight in Sokovia and brought with them not only a strange floating red man but also a set of arguably stranger twins. 
You had been out of action for the last few weeks due to a couple broken ribs and so had been sent on vacation by Tony. For three weeks, you were peacefully soaking up the sun in Honolulu, Hawaii, until you saw new reports of a freaking floating city with all of your friends on it. 
By the time you had flown back into New York, it was over and dealt with, but you were left feeling useless and unneeded.
“Earth to Y/N,” Steve called, bringing you back to the present, and you went red, even though he was sending you a reassuring smile and there was no real heat behind his words. The whole team knew how you were feeling and tried to comfort you, but there wasn’t much they could say to cheer you up. 
You looked towards the front of the room and were instantly drowning in a pair of cerulean blue eyes that locked onto yours. You froze in place, unable to tear your eyes away. 
The young man who owned those eyes was just as gorgeous. White blonde hair that fell over his forehead, arched brows, a strong jaw, full lips, wide shoulders, narrow hips and-
Wait, are those New Balances? 
You ignored the odd choice of runners and looked back up at this mysterious newcomer’s eyes and were shocked to find he had just down the same sweep of your body as you did to his. His lips curled up in a small grin and he once again caught your gaze, boring into your soul with his piercing eyes. 
“Team, most of you know Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, for those who don’t, this is them.” Tony pointed unceremoniously to the twins and was met with silence. “Cool, good chat.” He sent everyone a thumbs up before briskly leaving the room, probably to find Pepper. 
“He sure has a way with words.” The guy, Pietro, said and his accent caught you unawares. It was rich and silky, like honey in your eyes, and you swear you would have melted into a puddle on the floor if it wasn’t for the kitchen counter you were currently sitting on. 
He shared a smile with his sister before she edged over to the floating red dude. Speaking of...
“Is no one going to introduce floating red guy?” You blurted out, not addressing anyone in particular but finding the entire teams' heads whip your way. 
“Oh right, yes of course, sorry-” Steve began, but floating red guy cut him off with a calm hand raised and landed back on the floor before walking over to you. 
“Allow me, my name is Vision. You are Y/N.” He said simply, holding out a flat palm. You regarded it, completely bewildered as to what you were supposed to do, give him a high five? 
“Um, nice to meet you...” You said and placed your palm on top of his, thinking it was maybe a custom of his, but when his palm began to rise and fall, you were even more at a loss.
“Are you trying to shake her hand?” A sudden voice from over your shoulder made you jump. Somehow, Pietro had moved silently behind you and was watching the strange exchange between you and Vision, his eyebrows furrowed in amusement. 
“Yes. Is that not a common human custom?” Poor Vision said, making Pietro laugh and shake his head. 
“It is, it’s just not whatever you were doing.” He chuckled, stepping in front of you and grasping your hand firmly in his. He began to shake it, but you couldn’t focus on anything except his warm hand in yours. “This is how you shake a hand, Vis.” He stated, continuing to still pump your hands. 
You looked up and saw him looking straight at you once more and you quickly pulled a reign in on your emotions. 
Cut it out, a guy like him would never be into you.
You withdrew your hand abruptly, ending your contact, and thought you noticed a small look of hurt cross Pietro’s face, but of course, there wasn’t one. 
At least, that’s what you told yourself. 
Without another word, you turned around and left the room, unable to stand another second with the boy with the brilliant blue eyes and killer watt smile. 
As the weeks passed, you tried to ignore Pietro, but it proved to be a near-impossible task. 
He always found a way to be around you. Whether it was matching his training schedule to yours, or eating at the same time as you each morning and night, he was always there. 
Slowly but surely, you could feel the inklings of a crush begin to form until they became so strong you were scared you’d accidentally blurt it out in front of him. He wasn’t exactly helping the situation either; he always sat a bit too close on chairs, his hugs lingered for a couple of seconds too long, an innocuous-seeming wink or a squeeze of his hands on your as you traded gym equipment or passed the salt. 
You tried to keep your distance. You kept your conversations brief and answers blunt to the point it became borderline rude. You felt bad, but you needed to keep that layer of animosity there, lest you and your stupid emotions accidentally cross a line. 
One day, just over a month since he and his sister arrived, he cornered you in the training room. 
“Can I ask you a question?” He began abruptly. You regarded him through between your legs as you were bent over trying to stretch them. You realised the current view he had and flushed, straightening up before answering a curt “If you must,” all the while ignoring his eyes. 
“Do you hate me?” He asked in such a simple manner it had you sputtering. 
“What? No, of course not.” You shook your head, still avoiding eye contact, even though you could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You pretended to be studying the weights intensely, hoping that he would give up and leave you alone. 
I far from hate you...
“Then why are you such a... bitch... to me?” He struggled to find the right word, but when he did, it shocked you. Your jaw dropped, as did the weight in your hand. It was heading straight for your toes but before it could crush them, he had raced over to you and stopped it in its tracks. 
In a blink, he was leaning on the weights rack next to you, toying with the dumbbell in his hands with ease. 
“I am not a bitch.” You clarified, feeling your face slowly redden and heat up. 
So much for thinking he didn’t notice or care. 
“Yes, you are. At least, to me you are.” He argued and he still had a cheeky smile plastered on his face, but you could see real hurt and confusion in his eyes. 
“I...I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled, turning away from him but he caught your wrist. You glanced at him over your shoulder through lowered lashes. 
“Y/N, please. You can drop the act. I don’t know why you do it, but I know it’s not you.” His hand slowly slipped into yours as he stepped towards you, his fingers intertwining with your own. 
“Stop it.” You whispered, silently willing your legs to move but they wouldn’t. He held you prisoner in his gaze. Your heart was nearly beating through your chest, so loud you were certain he could hear it. 
“Tell me why.” He pleaded, his head dipping closer to yours and your eyes dropped to his lips, which were mere inches away. 
“I...” you began but your tongue became dry and your throat began to close. His proximity was driving you crazy, but although he was so close, he was still so far away. “I can't...”
No one like him could ever like someone like you. 
“That’s a shame because...” He let out a deep sigh and his other hand lifted to cup your face. “...because I like you. A lot.” His confession made you blanch. 
“Don’t say that.” You whipped your head away from his hand and pulled your other hand out of his grip. You were unable to look at him and his blue eyes for fear you would see the insincerity you were sure was there. 
“Y/N-” He reached out to you. 
“No.” You shook your head and began to back away from him. ‘You don’t mean it. Don’t say that.”
“I don't mean it?” His tone was laced with anger and frustration as he repeated what you said, making you flinch. “I don’t mean it?!” In a flash, he was directly in front of you again, towering over you. 
“Pietro, you...you can’t.” You whispered, your voice beginning to shake no matter how hard you tried to hide your emotions. “You can’t like me. You couldn’t.”
He gripped your chin and lifted your head so you could see his face and his narrowed eyes. 
“Who are you to tell me what I mean?” He breathed. “Who I can and can’t like? You don’t get to decide that. That’s my decision and mine alone.” 
He stepped closer to you and rested a hand on your waist, making you draw in a shaky breath. 
“Now, if you don’t like me back, that’s fine. I’ll stay away from you.” His voice shook as he announced that, but he steeled himself. “But don’t run from this because it scares you. It scares me too.” He rested his forehead against yours, stealing your breath away. 
“But you thinking I couldn’t love you... that scares me more.” 
Your eyes widened as you realised he was serious. Your heart began to rejoice and do flips in your chest. You were silent, at a loss for words as he studied your face. 
He took your silence as a refusal and his eyelids fell shut as his lips pulled into a grimace.
“Ok, I’ll leave. I’m sorry-” He was cut off by you grabbing his face and kissing him. 
Hard. 
He froze, and for a second you were scared he was going to take it all back and yell ‘fooled you!’ but he didn’t. He came to life under your hands and circled your waist in his arms, pulling you impossibly close. 
You were broken apart by his uncontainable grin, which you couldn’t help but return. 
“That went better than expected.” He breathed a laugh, keeping his forehead pressed against yours. 
“What did you expect?”  You questioned, tilting your head to the side. 
“Honestly? A slap.” He chuckled and you blushed once again. 
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a...” you thought about how best to describe your abrasive behaviour, but he filled in the gaps for you. 
“Bitch?” He supplied with a laugh and a raised brow. 
“Yeah, a major bitch.” You agreed, laughing with him at your own expense. “I just thought that... well, no one like you could ever...you know...like me or anything.” Your smile fell and he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. 
“No one like me? An orphaned mutant from a city that no longer exists?” He shook his head and pressed a finger to your lips to stop your protests. “Listen here, princessa.” He stared deeply into your eyes and you felt his gaze caress your soul. 
“I think you are incredible. Beautiful. Amazing. Magical. Stunning. ” With each praise, he mapped your face with kisses. On your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks, your forehead, and finally on the corner of your mouth. “Please, don’t ever doubt that.” 
His words had brought tears to your eyes and you simply nodded, a smile tugging at your lips, and your heart feeling so full it could burst. 
A month had passed since you and Pietro had become ‘an item’, and every day was better than the last. You had fallen in love with him, and in the process, came to love yourself. 
Pietro, on the other hand, was like a giddy teenager. Constantly sneaking heated kisses and touches wherever you were, whether it was in the bedroom or under the table at breakfast, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Or his eyes.
“Brother, if you don’t quit staring at Y/N you’re going to miss the entire movie,” Wanda said with a smirk one night as a group of you had settled down to watch a film.  You were curled up into his side with your legs tucked beneath you, and his arm was circling you, bringing you closer. 
You looked up to find that he was indeed staring at you. You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. 
“But she’s nicer to look at.” He stated simply with a smirk. He was met with a groan from nearly everyone in the room. 
“Yeesh, you guys make me sick.” Natasha fake gagged but sent you a playful smile and a wink anyway. 
“Yeah, get a room, you rabbits.” Tony quipped, making the rest of them laugh at your red face. 
That was one thing that hadn’t happened between you and Pietro. Sex. You had done everything but. It was beginning to make old doubts bubble to the surface. 
Maybe he realised he doesn’t like you like that... 
You scowled at the voice in your head before standing up abruptly. “I’m going to get some water.” You announced to no one in particular. You raced to the kitchen, ignoring the questioning eyes you left behind you. 
You were filling up a glass when you felt him behind you. As silent as a breeze yet as fast as a tornado. 
“What’s up?” He asked, his arms circling you from behind. You shook your head in answer, not trusting your voice to be steady. 
Pietro pressed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. “Tell me, princessa.” 
You remained silent, taking a big sip from your water to give yourself time to formulate an answer. Before you could, however, Pietro seemed to have figured it out. 
“This is about what Tony said, isn’t it?” He realised. “Y/N, listen-”
“No, Pietro, stop.” You said suddenly, cutting him off. You turned around and twisted out of his arms, distancing yourself from him. “It’s okay if you don’t like me like that-”
“That’s not fair-”
“You don’t have to pretend-”
“You can’t be serious-”
“-that you like me.” 
“Stop.” He growled, rushing over to you and clamping a hand over your mouth. 
You stood in the kitchen, staring at each other, your eyes filled with different emotions. 
Yours with sadness, his with anger. 
“Now, we are going to continue this discussion in my room.” He stated in a deadly calm voice, and before you could protest, he had scooped you up and ran you to his room on the 41st floor, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. 
“Pietro-” You began, reaching out a hand to him but he silenced you with a look. 
“No. Listen to me, Y/N.” He rounded on you and began to advance towards you. “You’re so smart, but you’re also so fucking naïve sometimes.” He growled, stepping towards you, making you take a step back. 
You stayed silent, knowing better than to talk at this point. And also because you felt guilty about upsetting him. 
“I didn’t want you to think I was just using you for sex.” He explained, running a hand through his hair. He took another step towards you, and you mirrored him by taking yet another step back
Realisation dawned on you and you felt even more guilty if that was even possible. “I’m sorry, Pietro.” You whispered sincerely.“I didn’t realise-” 
“I’m sorry I made you doubt me.” He said, taking another step forward. “I’m even more sorry that this has taken so long.”
 The next steps you both took had you backed up into the wall, the cold plaster causing goosebumps to rise across your back. 
In the blink of an eye, he was pressing you against the wall with his hips and was holding your arms above your head, trapping you there. 
“Don’t you know what you do to me?” He whispered and ground his hips against yours. 
You could definitely feel what you were doing to him. 
“Please,” you gasped, feeling his lips ghost the shell of your ear. 
“I’m going to fuck you, princessa.” He promised and you let out a moan at his words. “But first, I’m going to worship you.” 
Without another word, he dropped to his knees in front of you and yanked down your jeans and panties before you could suck in another breath. He circled his arms around your thighs and pulled your legs over his shoulders. 
You carded a hand through his hair and he held eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss on the inside of both of your thighs before placing one straight over your core. Your hand tightened in his hair.
Pietro licked a stripe up your centre, flicking his tongue around your clit. You let out a moan and your head fell back against the wall, your eyes squeezed shut.
“Look at me, princessa.” He ordered, and you complied, regarding him through half closed eyes. “I want you to watch me as I make you cum with my mouth.” 
He delved into the heat between your legs, licking and sucking and nipping. You writhed against his mouth, biting your lip in an effort to keep quiet but it was no use. 
His tongue teased your entrance before suddenly sliding inside, creating a whole new sensation in you. You gasped and arched your back, driving his tongue further inside you. 
The sensation of a tidal wave of pure pleasure building in your lower stomach was torturing you, all brought on by the man between your legs and his magical tongue. You ached to have his fingers in you, or better yet, his dick. 
“Pietro,” You moaned, which made him look up at you in question, but he never took his mouth off you. “I need you inside me.” 
He just shook his head in response and you could feel him smirk against you.  His nose bumped against your clit, sending your head into a spin. 
“Please...” You groaned, but he ignored your requests and simply sped up his tongue, eager to bring you to orgasm. 
As he coaxed you closer and closer to the edge, your legs began to quiver around his head. His tongue delved in deeper and with a speed you knew was only possible with him. 
You tried to grind yourself against him but he held your hips still with a strong grip, only allowing you the pleasure he was willing to give to you. 
He sucked hard at your clit before biting down on your bundle of nerves ever so gently, and that was it. 
The knot in your stomach unravelled, and you along with it. It was impossible to keep your eyes open, and you screamed his name as your head tipped back against the wall.
Your legs shook as he carried you through your high with his tongue. The next thing you know, the softness of his comforter replaced the hard wall on your back and your head was nestled on a pillow. 
He’d carried you to his bed and laid you down softly, lying over you and caging you in with his arms. 
His eyes were filled with adoration, but also the hint of the hardness you knew always existed below the surface. 
“Do you still doubt me?” He asked, trailing a hand up your side and under your shirt. 
“It was never you I doubted.” You breathed, still trying to catch your breath after your mindblowing orgasm. 
His eyes widened infinitesimally and he sat up abruptly on his heels, looking down at you from between your legs. He pulled his shirt off in a single tug and your eyes dropped to his chest and abdominals. 
This man is a god.
He dipped back over you, arching his back into you as he ravaged your mouth with his own and ground his tracksuit-clad hips over your dripping pussy. You moaned into his mouth and traced his abs with your fingertips, earning a low groan in response. 
His hand cupped your heat, sending shivers down your spine and causing a litany of curses to leave your mouth. 
“Who did this to you, princessa?” He growled, slipping a finger between your folds. 
“Y-You did.” You managed to get out between hitched breaths. 
“And who is going to fuck you until you can’t walk?” He pushed down his pants and boxers until he was able to kick them off, leaving you both naked apart from your top.
“You are.” You breathed and allowed him to slide your top over your head and fling it across the room with great speed. 
“Who do you belong to?” He murmured against your skin, tracing his lips across the top of your breasts. You arched your back so he could unclip your bra and skillfully remove it from you. 
He sucked a nipple into his mouth and pinched the other, sending shockwaves to your core.
“You.” You answered, cupping his jaw and guiding his lips back to yours, where he met you with a punishing kiss. You could feel him lining up at your entrance and you wrapped your legs around his waist, encouraging him closer. 
“And who loves you?” He whispered as he slowly began to enter you. Your eyes widened and you sharpened your gaze on him in shock. 
“Wha-” He gripped your jaw and pressed his forehead against yours as he slowly entered you, never breaking eye contact. 
“I said,” With a single thrust, he buried himself in you completely, laying a firm hand on your pelvis to stop your hips from writhing against him in pleasure. “Who loves you?” 
He regarded you with such sincerity that you couldn’t return his intense stare, but the grip he had on your jaw refused to let you look away. 
“Tell me.” He demanded, not moving inside you. You swallowed your fears, doubts and insecurities and levelled his gaze with yours. 
“You do.” As you said it, you felt a smile overcome your features. “You love me.”
His eyes darkened with lust, and what you knew now to be love, and he kissed you passionately. You wrapped your hands around his biceps and gave yourself fully to him. 
He drew out of you and thrust in again slowly. The little discomfort you had felt at the beginning was melting away and sheer, toe-curling pleasure was taking over.
You were still sensitive from your last orgasm, so every drag of his hips and drive of his cock in you added quickly to the coiling behind your navel. 
You dug your nails into the flesh of his back as he continued his languid strokes. You could feel every vein of his member, its pulsating heat as it pushed and pulled you closer and closer to the edge. 
“You’re mine,” Pietro growled against your lips, his hand on your hip tightening so much that you knew there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow, but you relished in it. 
As if to prove his point, he traced a trail of kisses to your neck where he began to suck and nibble a large hickey. 
“All yours...only yours, Pietro.” You agreed in moans, running your hands through his hair and tugging when the sensations became too much. 
You were so close, and you told him so. 
“Hold on, princessa.” He groaned, his hand cupped your jaw so gently that it threw you off balance; the rough snaps of his hips and the loving stroke of his thumb on your jaw. 
“I want you to remember who made you like this, Y/N.” He said, his jaw clenching with the effort it took to hold off his impending orgasm. “Every time you close your eyes, you’re going to see me fucking you into the mattress.” 
His accent along with his dirty words made your eyes roll into your head and you were so close you were certain you were going to fall off the edge with his next thrust. 
“Say my name as you cum, baby.” He growled and the hand on your hip dipped to rub circles across your clit. 
You exploded. Or maybe imploded is the right word. 
His breath ghosting across your face as he whispered his native tongue to you, telling you to cum, his hand on your clit, his cock hitting spots in you that you didn’t know could cause so much pleasure... it was enough to bring tears to your eyes as your soul detached and shattered into a million particles. 
Like you were told, you screamed his name as you orgasmed, your hands scraping down his back and your legs shaking around his waist as he continued to thrust into you, spurring on the waves of pleasure that assaulted you. 
As you came down from your high, you caressed his face gently and looked deep into his eyes. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You murmured over and over again before he captured your lips with his and emptied himself in you.
His eyes screwep up and he let out a loud moan as he too reached his climax. 
The last throes of your orgasm released you as he collapsed on top of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck. 
He rolled off you and onto his back, dragging you with him and pulling you until you lay across his chest, your head resting over his loudly beating heart and your arms wrapped around each other. 
“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered into your hair and you felt like you could fly away, you were that happy. 
“I love you too, Pietro.” You tilted your head up and he kissed you sweetly on the mouth. 
“That was something else.” He murmured as you both came up for air. 
“Yeah, it was pretty...” You struggled to adequately describe the sex you just had. 
“Mindblowing?” He offered with a cheeky grin. 
“Exactly. Mindblowing.” You agreed and tucked your head back under his chin. 
“You didn’t see that coming?” He questioned playfully. 
“A month ago, definitely not.” You stated, tracing circles on his chest. 
“And now?” He coaxed and this time it was you with the cheeky grin as you raised your head to look at him and hitched an eyebrow.
“Now...I wanna see how fast you really are.” You winked at him.
Pietro was suddenly the one blushing and flipped you onto your back in less than a second. 
“Oh, you’re on.” He laughed and attacked your mouth with his. 
You never doubted yourself after that. 
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