#ktober

When the various vents within the courtroom had started to spew out a new variant of gas, this one tinged with red instead of the usual green which signalled poison, your immediate instinct to jump within a locker was stricken to realise that the room had been deprived of all its usual hiding places. Accepting your fate, you chose to sit on one of the benches within the courtroom as you snapped your eyes shut and inhaled the gas with slow, steady rhythms – hoping that it wouldn’t prove as terrible as some of the others.

Eventually, the telltale hissing of the gas dissipates and surprise rolls through your system as you realise that the gas itself hadn’t choked or irritated your nose and throat as you breathed it in. In fact, if you hadn’t seen it visually, then you wouldn’t have even known that it was being pumped into the rooms.

Cautiously opening your eyes had been quick to alert you to the fact that it wasn’t a new type of psychosis gas as your perception of the world around you remained strong with no hallucinations or looming threats of the Skinner Man popping up in your peripheral. However, just as relief started to settle into your bones, with it came something unexpected.

Heat.

Crawling across your veins and under your clothing, warmth spread through your skin like a rash and with it came a tension in your gut – something recognisable but absolutely unexpected.

Arousal.

“Fuck.” Hissing the word into the quiet room, irritation fills your chest as you realise the new depths of depravity which the scientists at Murkoff were willing to sink to. Each trial was already a total risk in terms of the horrors which the prime assets and other monsters were willing to inflict on the reagents, the whispers of the various assaults which took place within the trials being so painfully common that many people reduced their experiences to a simple shake and nod when discussing each of the assets.

Throwing caution to the wind, your mind absolutely consumed by the aching need within your gut, you drop to one of the pews benches within the courtroom and quickly hike your skirt up to expose the cotton panties below. Pulling the panties down past your ass, you gently roll them into a ball and place them on the bench beside your ass to allow you to focus without having them in the way.

You think about some of the more handsome reagents you pass in the sleep rooms as you pleasure yourself slowly. The tall redhead who always has a smile when he sees you, his hands gentle looking despite their size. You imagine those same hands in the place of your own, stroking along your slit and teasing you as you beg him to just fuck you already.

The redhead shifts into one of the scientists, the balding one who sometimes sits behind Nurse Barlow and whose deep voice tickles something in you any time he chooses to throw in a wayward comment as you trade tokens for fresh prescriptions.

So lost in your own wicked fantasies, you only realise that you have company when a gloved hand, one which is definitely not your own, laces around your throat – immediately freezing your entire body as your fingers still within your cunt and your eyes fly open in panic.

“Well,” gazing down at you from behind his dark shades, Leland Coyle looks every inch the cat who has caught the canary as his fingers squeeze around your throat with open threat, “ain’t this a surprise.”

Even through your terror, you can tell something about him is off. It’s obvious in the way that his body seems to tremble as he leers down at you and the slight huskiness of his accented voice, almost like he is actively fighting for control over his own behaviours. He’s dressed as familiarly as ever, cops uniform sitting over a stained white shirt and red tie – the tie sitting lower than usual as his top few buttons seem to be oddly undone.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who got hit with whatever new shit they’re spraying through the walls here.” Coyle grunts, leering down at your exposed cunt and the fingers which remained frozen within your hole. “That or you’re one real irreprehensible whore who doesn’t mind showing off her perversions in front of Lady Justice.”

“Coyle.” You gasp, your body stiff with fear even as heat continues to roll across your skin, a heat which continues to build as your body grows more and more neglected with every passing second.

Hanging over you, Coyle's tobacco-stained teeth flash for a moment as his focus divides itself between your flushing face and his free hand as it drops to the fly of his police uniform, his shaky fingers quickly freeing his hard cock from its confines as it juts proudly into the warm air of the courtroom.

“Now this can one of two ways, honey. Either you roll over and let me sink this bone into that whorish cunt or I can break your skull in two and make you ride the lightning as I take what I want anyway.” He grunts, his hand fisting along his cock as the head glistens in the low light, pre-cum already forming at his slit. “Time to grab those ankles, fuck-o.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, his words an open threat rather than any genuine offer, and the feel of his hands as they grab at your body and pull you to your feet is terrifying in how easy the task is for him – his strength stealing any confidence you have at being able to escape him.

Besides, with the drugs still rolling through your veins and making every inch of your skin desperate for a little stimulation, a rough fuck from a total fucking psychopath doesn’t sound as awful as it typically would.

He spins you without any real thought, pressing your body down harshly as he forces you back to the bench – your back arched and hands gripping the back of the wood like a lifeline.

Now kneeling on the bench, you know what’s coming next and the drugs in your system welcome Coyle with a victorious squeal of delight as his thick, unseen cock bumps against your hole for only a moment before impaling itself fully. In any other circumstance, your scream would have been one of discomfort and pain but the pheromones and your own fingers have already warmed up your hole enough that he slides in with little friction – the only discomfort coming from his impressive girth which stretches you deliciously as he immediately sets a feral pace.

Mind unable to really process anything but the insatiable need which claws at your senses, you immediately fall into a frantic rhythm. Your nails digging into the wooden bench, it’s definitely the sloppiest fuck you’ve ever enjoyed as any pretence of finesse or concern about each other’s enjoyment is thrown clean out the window as both Coyle and yourself rut together like mindless beasts.

Your ass slams into his groin, every stroke of his cock along your walls making your breath come in short, sharp pants as he growls and snarls, every inch the feral dog which he truly was. So determined to fuck you through the bench, Coyle was neglecting to even use his stun baton – the weapon hanging from its holster and jostling with every frantic slam of his hips.

Drugged and lost to the overwhelming assault on your cunt, you come with a muted scream – your wrist taking the brunt of your noise as you bite into the skin there and squeeze your walls around Coyle’s thick cock, greedily stealing as much sensation from him as you can while your toes curl in their shoes and your knees shake against the stiff wood.

Uncaring of your experience, Coyle continues to fuck himself within you with such force that you know you’re going to be raw and sore for days. As you come around him, the blood rushing in your eyes mostly cancels out some of the more colourful insults which slips free of his lips as he slams his groin against your ass, burying his cock as deeply as possible.

Clearly as wound up by the pheromone gas as yourself, it doesn’t take long for Coyle to spill within you and the heat of his release filling your throbbing cunt is almost enough to push you over the edge again – your teeth drawing blood from the skin around your wrist as you continue to bite down on the site. Coyle’s hands wrap around your hips, his thick, gloved fingers digging into the flesh there and definitely leaving purple bruising which will take days to heal and disappear.

Keeping his cock within you as he rides out his orgasm, it isn’t until his snarling breaths settle into something more controlled that he pulls himself free with a hiss. The sudden emptiness is startling, leaving you feeling hollow and filthy as the tickle of your combined release immediately starts to drip free of your twitching cunt.

You turn in place, ass planting itself on the bench as you gingerly keep your legs spread – not wanting to put any additional pressure on the thoroughly-fucked flesh. Your change in position allows you to just catch the end of Coyle tucking his cock away, his cheeks flushed and a fresh cigarette already planted between his lips as he takes slow inhales and blows them free into the limited space between you.

Now sitting on the bench as silence falls for a moment, your skin still feels wickedly warm but the need which had been consuming you is now much more muted, satiated by the monster who stands over you with a shit-eating, sadistic grin.

“You’ve been a useful whore. Maybe ol’ Coyle will be kind and save the rest of your rehabilitation for another day. Give me one good reason why I should let ya live.”

Exhausted and yet determined to escape, you think quickly and drop your hand back to your cunt. You scoop up some of the mess there with your pointer finger, your mixed releases leaking from your hole with an obscene casualness, and bring it to your lips. Without breaking eye contact, you lick the mess clean from the digit, ensuring that Coyle can see every stroke of your tongue as you catch every droplet of filth.

He grunts at the show, his hand dropping to his cock as he cups himself through his uniform.

“You’re one lucky bitch that a real man needs a little bit of time to recovery. Otherwise, I’d be putting that nasty tongue to good use around my dick.” Coyle growls, blowing a soft plume of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “But you go on and get, honey. I’m sure you’ll come crawling back the next time you trespass on my property and then we’ll see about you and me having another little personal party.”

The sharpened tips of his stun baton press into the bottom of your chin, tilting your head up at him as his calculating eyes burn your face to memory. He holds you there for a moment before pulling the baton away and turning on his heel, leather boots striding towards one of the alarm-topped doors which the prime assets exclusively held access to.

L stayed quiet as he led the small group of four detectives to his private quarters. Detective Yagami, Aizawa, Matsuda, and Mogi all discussed the active Kira case behind him. L may not be showing it on his face but he is more than excited to reach his destination. 

L opened the door, letting the others take it from him as they walked in behind him. He silently lead them to the small sitting area with two couches and an armchair. L settled into the armchair, tucking his legs under himself. The four detectives found seats on the couches. They paused their conversation, letting L have the floor to talk. 

“Do you want tea?” L asked, glancing around at each face sitting around him. Yagami shook his head, brushing his mustache with his hand. The other three nodded their heads. 

“Four cups of tea,” L stated, his voice no louder than it usually was. Matsuda shared a look with Mogi. Who exactly was supposed to bring the tea if L wasn't moving and no one else in the room knew where the tea was? Clinking in the other room startled them. They stared at L, waiting for him to explain. A few short moments of confusion later, the door to what they assume is a small kitchen area opened up. 

You pushed the door open using the end of the spreader bar attached to your wrist. You carefully kept the two tea cups stable. The only form of clothing you had on was the red ropes carefully tied around your abdomen. Strapped down to your center and up your back, then it was wrapped around your ribs and sides multiple times. You carefully maneuvered between the couches, not spilling tea or hitting heads. 

Your audience stared at you with parted mouths, completely lost. They didn’t even know L had a partner, much less one that he strapped to spreader bars. L’s lips just barely lifted. 

“Give one to Aizawa and Mogi. Then go get two more.” L ordered. A hum left you. You slowly leaned down at an awkward angle to hand Aizawa the cup in your restrained hand. Your wrists were clasped to the bar yet your hands were free. Meaning, you had the full capabilities to follow all of L’s demands. The bar was clasped to your neck, keeping your arms out fully straight. Aizawa slowly took the cup from your hand, pulling it to his chest. His mouth stayed parted, staring at you with wide eyes. You leaned towards the other couch, handing off Mogi’s tea. 

“Oh and get me a notepad and pen,” L said to your back as you walked back into the kitchen. You turned to the side, pressing the spreader bar into the swinging door. You slowly walked into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind you. L addressed the group of detectives. 

“If you’re not enjoying this, now is the time to leave.” L offered, glancing over the faces of the group. They awkwardly shared looks before slowly settling back into their seats. Aizawa brought his tea to his mouth, sipping loudly. L’s eyes searched the faces of his coworkers again, finding nothing but compliance. 

The kitchen door swung open again as you pushed through it. Two cups in your hands and a notepad held between your teeth. When you turned your head, L found the pen sticking out of the corner of your mouth. You made your way to the seating area slowly. You stayed astutely aware of the liquid in the cups. You stood between the two couches, staring forward at L. 

“One to Matsuda. One to me.” You leaned towards Matsuda, handing him his tea. Matsuda reached out, gently taking the cups from your hands. His fingers graced the back of your hand. 

“Ah. No touching.” L said, making Matsuda jump. He quickly dropped his hand from yours, shrinking in his seat. You glanced away from him, up to L. He lifted his chin, silently telling you to move to him. You walked forward to him, turning to the side to hand him his tea. L took it from your hands, sipping at the hot tea. He hummed approvingly. 

”Well done.” L muttered, setting it on the side table next to him. 

”Give me the notepad,” he ordered. You leaned forward at your waist, your arms out making it look like a bow. Your lean gave the audience a proper look at your ass. L took the pad from your teeth and pulled the pen out of your mouth. He wiped the residual spit off the pen onto his pants. He snapped his fingers, pointing to the ground. You turned, making a maneuver few of your onlookers understood. You carefully sat down, folding your legs under your bottom. You sat at the foot of L’s chair. 

You waited patiently at L’s chair as he and his detectives discussed the Kira case. The details bored you. The five voices around you almost put you to sleep the way they all talked about the case. You sighed through your nose, getting uncomfortable in the sitting position and bored with the talking. L sat down in the chair properly, his feet hitting the ground. He readjusted almost immediately, pulling the leg opposite you up onto his seat. He patted his thigh, giving you permission to readjust. You straightened your legs out and turned with your back facing the crowd. You leaned your head against his thigh. L hummed, resting his hand on the top of your head. He slowly pet the back of your head. He leaned down, pressing his nose to your temple. 

“Darling, I-I’m getting close again—” you slow your relentless thrusts into Astarion’s asshole down to a languid roll, smirking down at him from where you knelt on the bed. “FUCK!” Astarion's whine only increased your arousal, his white hair plastered to his forehead with sweat as the recent feeding from your neck made his face flush a deep crimson.

“Don’t get all pouty, dear.” You tilt his chin up, deeply looking into his eyes. “I want to milk every ounce of pleasure out of you until you can’t even remember your own name.” You begin to increase your pace again, placing your hand on your lover’s torso to feel the sensation of your strap inside him. 

Astarion’s hands find their way to the wooden spindles of your headboard, knuckles turning white as his hole clenches tighter around you. His breaths come out in heavy pants, the coil of pleasure inside of him threatening to release again. “Iwanttocumsobadlyplease,” his words tumble out of his mouth like he had no control over them.

“Use your words, love.” You keep your pace steady, but give him enough to articulate properly.

“Can I cum? Please, pretty please!” His voice peaks as he begs, another orgasm nearing.

“Good boy! You may.” With your words, you thrust in and out of him like you never had before, taking his leaking cock into your hands to push him over the edge that was building for what felt like eons.

Liked this and want more? Check the full Kinktober fic on my AO3 here!

“I can be dominant! you just have to let me!” he exclaims pouring sugar by the pound into his coffee mug “I think the fact that you have to beg to be dominant kinda takes away the whole purpose” you giggle as you bringing your mug up to your mouth just as Hotch makes his way into the small kitchenette area at the BAU effectively stopping Spencer from yapping on about your sex life. He stoops his head down to your ear and whispers “ill prove it to you” his warm breath brushing your sensitive ear gives you goosebumps as he walks away chuckling ignoring the questioning glance from Hotch.

-

By the time you’re packing up your things and getting ready to leave the office for the day, you have come up with about 15 different ways to torture your boyfriend for the way he embarrassed you today but ultimately deciding against it due to the fatigue overtaking your body. The ride back home is mostly filled with comfortable silence, you assume its just because you’re both too tired too speak as he gives your thigh an occasional squeeze as you drive. You enter your shared apartment and make your way to your bedroom desperate to lay in the comfort of your own bed as Spencer follows hot on your heels. You lay down flat on your back letting out a strained sound. You see your boyfriend loosen his ty and kick off his shoes but you miss the look of hunger in his eyes. He crawls over you and his mouth grazes your ear lobe so gently “this is what you wanted all along isnt it?” his raspy voice sending shivers down your body as you try to squirm away from under him only for him to pin your hands over your head. “Who would’ve thought this was all I needed to do to have my way with you” he places an open mouth kiss to your ear lobe before taking it in his mouth and sucking on it causing you to let out a loud whimper “s-stop y-your not being a good boy” he thinks it’s funny yet impressive that you still want to take the dominant role even when you’re pinned under him. He takes your lobe out of his mouth and kisses it “im not? im just trying to make you feel good.. im giving you a what you want” his tone is teasing, he knows he has the upper hand here and he’s going to use it “all you have to do is let me baby.. tell me what you want” he finishes his statement with a lick down your ear “ah- ngh” you’re moaning from every touch already feeling overstimulated but needing more you start bucking your hips up desperately to get your message across but being quickly stopped by his large hand coming down to hold them in place “you have to say it baby cmon” you whine “p-please I want you to touch m-me” you look up pleading.

Hes never seen you like this before, hes never seen you this desperate, its always been the other way around but it was beautiful and he was becoming addicted to it very quickly “you can do better than that sweetheart” it sounds like he’s mocking you but to be honest he could get off just at the sight of you begging for him. “I need you please I need you to make me feel good I-I promise ill be good” you dont even care about how desperate you sound right now, not when his tounge brushes your ear so slowly as the sounds of his breath invade your hearing. Damn these profilers! he figured out your sensitive spot just by observing. He smiles down at you as his hands start roaming your body. He unbuttons whatever buttons his shaky hands manage to get too to watch your chest rising and falling with each sound of pleasure leaving your lips. He cups on of your boobs from under your bra gently playing with your nipple though his erratic movements and shaky breaths that give away how truly desperate he is too, not to mention his rock hard cock rubbing against your clothed thigh making him let out breathy moans in your ear every time he got some relief from the friction making you not feel TOO pathetic anymore. His hand slides down from your boob down your tourso until it reaches your hips, he unbuttons your jeans with one hand as he bites down on your ear a little harder than intended as you let out a yelp and loud strangled moan that reminds spencer to find out if you have a newly found pain kink in the future. He slips his hand under your panties as he starts circling your clit slowly. You feel tears start to well in your eyes desperate for more “faster please” he obeys and starts circling the bundle of nerves faster, he slides his fingers down between your folds until he reaches your opening, he slips 2 fingers in and without giving you time to adjust he starts pumping in and out of you with them.

He curls them at just the right spot enjoying the view of you squirming and your legs shaking as your thighs try to close in around his hand but he goes even faster pulling lewd sounds out of you “f-fuck!!” you turn your head denying him access only for him to move to your other ear and take it in his mouth “SPENCER!!” its all too much you’re practically screaming now “I-I cant please!” hes power drunk right now he cant even stop himself from moaning into your ear with every ounce of friction your thigh gives his aching cock “I- I need to cum- please let me!” part of him wants to deny you just like you have done to him multiple times but he wants you to enjoy this just as much as him so who is he to deny his baby? “im not gonna stop you.. go ahead and finish all over my fingers angel” his thumb comes up to rub your clit as he continues to pump into you “cmon dont keep me waiting” he tops it off with a nip at the shell of your ear. “AHHH-“ your screaming now moving frantically intentionally giving spencer some much needed friction. Relief washes over your body and you squirt all over his fingers. Its not new but it dosent happen very often but when it does.. it makes spencer incredibly cocky. He places a kiss on your ear making you shudder as you attempt to calm down from your orgasm as he takes his fingers out of your pussy and into his mouth “who knew all I needed to do was whisper in your ear” he laughs sweetly making you giggle slightly out of breath. You push him on the bed “you didn’t get to cum..” you give him a slight pout as he stares at you with admiration “I guess I just have to find your sweet spot now” lets just say you both didn’t get much sleep