K is for Kink
Title: K is for Kink
Pairing: Reid/Garcia
Rating: NC17
Summary: Reid & Garcia play a little guessing game. Ha.
Warnings: Um. Kink? Ha. Mostly of the object-insertion variety. *blushes, slinks off*
Notes: This was originally going to be Emily/JJ, but for some reason, Reid and Garcia got all petulant and pouty and told me they wanted to play, instead, and I actually thought it suited them better. So I let them. This is part of the Alphabet Meme and was prompted by the lovely insaneformality. Therefore, I am placing all responsibility for its filthy, dirty content squarely on her shoulders ;) I mean, what else did you want me to do with a prompt like kink?!?! Also, THIS is Ramune, in case you aren't familiar... I had a friend who was obsessed with Japanese soft drink things, haha, and we used to get them all the time at this ridiculously awesome store near here. There's a little marble-thing in the top that you have to push down in so that you can drink it. And it's really good, actually. And I just had this image in my head of them nerding out together at the Japanese specialty store. Ahem. OKAY DONE NOW ON WITH THE PR0N.
"Okay. Are you ready?"
Penelope grins a red-lipped grin and wiggles her toes - painted to match today; she's done herself up sexy for him, taken off the five shades of blue and replaced them with NYC Color's Times Square - at him, dropping her knees apart just a little. "I'm always ready, Doctor Love. Let's see what you've got." Behind her blindfold - sleep mask, really, fuchsia tiger stripes, which clash a little with her nails, but she's dealing - she closes her eyes and waits. She feels him moving over her, his skinny weight sinking the mattress a little as he slides between her legs, and then there it is. She draws in a sharp breath even though he's gentle and pauses for a few seconds, lets him get a little rhythm going, before she says, "Too easy. Have you no faith? Those, my sweet, are your fingers. I'd know them anywhere."
She would, too. Slender, long, perpetually chilly but clever enough that she doesn't mind. He's got two inside of her, slow, and she can imagine his expression, all intent like he's solving her, like she's got a secret under her skin. Her boy can never resist a secret. He takes the pad of his thumb and glides it over her clit, just once, just for a second like he can't help himself, and she gasps, and then it's over. He slides them out, taking his time, and says, "Yes. I thought I'd start with something easy."
"To get me warmed up?" Penelope asks, her voice liquid and mischievous. "A nice touch, but not necessary."
"I see that."
"No," she corrects. "You feel that."
"I see it, too," Reid says, trailing his slippery fingers down the inside of her thigh.
"Naughty thing! You like to watch?"
"Sometimes," he replies, and she can hear his smile. "Ready for the next one?"
"Dying for it."
His fingers are cold, but they're nothing compared to what's next. The sensation is completely different, but just as obvious. It draws a sharp oh! from her lips, a surprised sound that turns lower, longer as he pushes it all the way inside.
"Ice," she gasps out, and he slides one finger in along with it. She can feel it melting down, stealing heat from her body and making her even wetter, and Reid curls his finger a little to press it up against a spot that makes her squirm.
"Yes," he says. "Very good." He's got his professor voice going on, all patient and controlled, and Penelope squeezes around him as tight as she can, tries to throw him off his game, tries to make him imagine that pull around his cock. She can tell by the change in his breath, by the way he pushes deeper, that it worked,
"Too easy," she says, the tautness of her voice betraying her, but her tease doesn't make him stop. It has the opposite effect, actually, and he adds more fingers as the ice melts down, fucking her slow and hard until he's got three inside and the sheets and her thighs and his wrists are all dripping. She lifts her hips, her neatly-done toes curling under, and then he gives her clit a pinch - not unkind, just testing, a little playful - and pulls back. One of his hands grips her thigh, and it's grounding even as she hisses at him. "I hate you."
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, the question not at all genuine, and she has the urge to grab him and yank him down and do something to his smug little mouth that's between a rough kiss and a loving maul.
Instead, Penelope kicks out her heel a fraction, catching him in the leg. "No!"
"Okay." This time, he doesn't ask her if she's ready, just reaches over and grabs something that he presses against her skin and holds for a moment.
It's smooth. Cool, but not cold. She's trying to figure it out before he puts it in, but her brain is quickly becoming a wibbly jell-o mold inside of her head, so she gives up and just throws her head back, waiting. He doesn't make her wait long. When he slides it inside, it's hard. Narrower at the tip, wider as it goes, with a bump somewhere in the middle. It's not a toy, though -- at least, not one of hers. He's going slow, still - maddeningly slow, centimeter by centimeter so that she can feel everything, because that's how he needs it to be, always; he has to have everything, has to give it all to her - and she's not even trying anymore, just spreading her legs and shimmying down and making noise for him and arching her back as he turns it a little, experiments with the angle, tips it up to give her friction.
"What is it?" he asks her. She can feel his cock against her leg as he hovers over her, sticky on her skin, and she reaches down for him, but he turns his hips away.
"I don't know," she pants. "I don't care!"
Reid stops, suddenly, whatever he's holding as deep inside of her as it will go. He spins it, gentle, and says, "Try. Feel it."
He slides it out a little, and Penelope digs her fingers into the mattress. She shakes her head back and forth, frustrated, but when he pulls it all the way back and presses the narrow end to her clit so she can feel the fine ridge, it clicks. "It's a bottle."
"What kind?"
Penelope doesn't answer, just makes a half-sobbing, half-pleading sound at him, and he spreads his free palm across her belly. She shakes her head again, five seconds away from ripping off the fucking blindfold so he'll give her what she wants.
"Here," he says, drawing the bottle up her stomach, between her breasts, against her cheek. "Taste it."
"You filthy creature," Penelope says, her tone tottering back and forth between malicious and delighted, but she opens for him anyway. Reid sets the bottle down against her tongue, and she can taste herself, sharp like lightning on the glass, but there's something else, too. He works the bottle around her mouth, concentrating on the front part - sweet she remembers, that's where your sweet taste buds are, he taught her that - and then she figures it out, and she starts laughing. "I love you," she says as he moves the bottle out of the way to hear her. "I love you, you ridiculous, ridiculous boy."
"What is it?" he asks her, his palm pressed now flat against her cunt like he's holding her together, waiting for something.
"It's your frickin' Ramune!"
"Good," he says again, and he's holding back his own laugh now, setting the bottle aside.
"I was wondering why you put that in your bag after lunch," Penelope says, reaching for him now, trying to tug him down on top of her. "I thought you were going to try to do some magic-y, science-y thing to get the marble back out."
"Maybe later," he says, his lips right at her ear now as he opens her legs wider and presses himself up in between.
"Oooh," Penelope says, "I know what that one is."
"What?" Reid asks, a little breathless.
"That is your utterly magnificent cock."
"Mmmhmm," he says, lower now, reaching down to line their bodies up right.
"That's my favorite. Now get this godforsaken thing off of my eyes so I can watch you give it to me."
Pairing: Reid/Garcia
Rating: NC17
Summary: Reid & Garcia play a little guessing game. Ha.
Warnings: Um. Kink? Ha. Mostly of the object-insertion variety. *blushes, slinks off*
Notes: This was originally going to be Emily/JJ, but for some reason, Reid and Garcia got all petulant and pouty and told me they wanted to play, instead, and I actually thought it suited them better. So I let them. This is part of the Alphabet Meme and was prompted by the lovely insaneformality. Therefore, I am placing all responsibility for its filthy, dirty content squarely on her shoulders ;) I mean, what else did you want me to do with a prompt like kink?!?! Also, THIS is Ramune, in case you aren't familiar... I had a friend who was obsessed with Japanese soft drink things, haha, and we used to get them all the time at this ridiculously awesome store near here. There's a little marble-thing in the top that you have to push down in so that you can drink it. And it's really good, actually. And I just had this image in my head of them nerding out together at the Japanese specialty store. Ahem. OKAY DONE NOW ON WITH THE PR0N.
"Okay. Are you ready?"
Penelope grins a red-lipped grin and wiggles her toes - painted to match today; she's done herself up sexy for him, taken off the five shades of blue and replaced them with NYC Color's Times Square - at him, dropping her knees apart just a little. "I'm always ready, Doctor Love. Let's see what you've got." Behind her blindfold - sleep mask, really, fuchsia tiger stripes, which clash a little with her nails, but she's dealing - she closes her eyes and waits. She feels him moving over her, his skinny weight sinking the mattress a little as he slides between her legs, and then there it is. She draws in a sharp breath even though he's gentle and pauses for a few seconds, lets him get a little rhythm going, before she says, "Too easy. Have you no faith? Those, my sweet, are your fingers. I'd know them anywhere."
She would, too. Slender, long, perpetually chilly but clever enough that she doesn't mind. He's got two inside of her, slow, and she can imagine his expression, all intent like he's solving her, like she's got a secret under her skin. Her boy can never resist a secret. He takes the pad of his thumb and glides it over her clit, just once, just for a second like he can't help himself, and she gasps, and then it's over. He slides them out, taking his time, and says, "Yes. I thought I'd start with something easy."
"To get me warmed up?" Penelope asks, her voice liquid and mischievous. "A nice touch, but not necessary."
"I see that."
"No," she corrects. "You feel that."
"I see it, too," Reid says, trailing his slippery fingers down the inside of her thigh.
"Naughty thing! You like to watch?"
"Sometimes," he replies, and she can hear his smile. "Ready for the next one?"
"Dying for it."
His fingers are cold, but they're nothing compared to what's next. The sensation is completely different, but just as obvious. It draws a sharp oh! from her lips, a surprised sound that turns lower, longer as he pushes it all the way inside.
"Ice," she gasps out, and he slides one finger in along with it. She can feel it melting down, stealing heat from her body and making her even wetter, and Reid curls his finger a little to press it up against a spot that makes her squirm.
"Yes," he says. "Very good." He's got his professor voice going on, all patient and controlled, and Penelope squeezes around him as tight as she can, tries to throw him off his game, tries to make him imagine that pull around his cock. She can tell by the change in his breath, by the way he pushes deeper, that it worked,
"Too easy," she says, the tautness of her voice betraying her, but her tease doesn't make him stop. It has the opposite effect, actually, and he adds more fingers as the ice melts down, fucking her slow and hard until he's got three inside and the sheets and her thighs and his wrists are all dripping. She lifts her hips, her neatly-done toes curling under, and then he gives her clit a pinch - not unkind, just testing, a little playful - and pulls back. One of his hands grips her thigh, and it's grounding even as she hisses at him. "I hate you."
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, the question not at all genuine, and she has the urge to grab him and yank him down and do something to his smug little mouth that's between a rough kiss and a loving maul.
Instead, Penelope kicks out her heel a fraction, catching him in the leg. "No!"
"Okay." This time, he doesn't ask her if she's ready, just reaches over and grabs something that he presses against her skin and holds for a moment.
It's smooth. Cool, but not cold. She's trying to figure it out before he puts it in, but her brain is quickly becoming a wibbly jell-o mold inside of her head, so she gives up and just throws her head back, waiting. He doesn't make her wait long. When he slides it inside, it's hard. Narrower at the tip, wider as it goes, with a bump somewhere in the middle. It's not a toy, though -- at least, not one of hers. He's going slow, still - maddeningly slow, centimeter by centimeter so that she can feel everything, because that's how he needs it to be, always; he has to have everything, has to give it all to her - and she's not even trying anymore, just spreading her legs and shimmying down and making noise for him and arching her back as he turns it a little, experiments with the angle, tips it up to give her friction.
"What is it?" he asks her. She can feel his cock against her leg as he hovers over her, sticky on her skin, and she reaches down for him, but he turns his hips away.
"I don't know," she pants. "I don't care!"
Reid stops, suddenly, whatever he's holding as deep inside of her as it will go. He spins it, gentle, and says, "Try. Feel it."
He slides it out a little, and Penelope digs her fingers into the mattress. She shakes her head back and forth, frustrated, but when he pulls it all the way back and presses the narrow end to her clit so she can feel the fine ridge, it clicks. "It's a bottle."
"What kind?"
Penelope doesn't answer, just makes a half-sobbing, half-pleading sound at him, and he spreads his free palm across her belly. She shakes her head again, five seconds away from ripping off the fucking blindfold so he'll give her what she wants.
"Here," he says, drawing the bottle up her stomach, between her breasts, against her cheek. "Taste it."
"You filthy creature," Penelope says, her tone tottering back and forth between malicious and delighted, but she opens for him anyway. Reid sets the bottle down against her tongue, and she can taste herself, sharp like lightning on the glass, but there's something else, too. He works the bottle around her mouth, concentrating on the front part - sweet she remembers, that's where your sweet taste buds are, he taught her that - and then she figures it out, and she starts laughing. "I love you," she says as he moves the bottle out of the way to hear her. "I love you, you ridiculous, ridiculous boy."
"What is it?" he asks her, his palm pressed now flat against her cunt like he's holding her together, waiting for something.
"It's your frickin' Ramune!"
"Good," he says again, and he's holding back his own laugh now, setting the bottle aside.
"I was wondering why you put that in your bag after lunch," Penelope says, reaching for him now, trying to tug him down on top of her. "I thought you were going to try to do some magic-y, science-y thing to get the marble back out."
"Maybe later," he says, his lips right at her ear now as he opens her legs wider and presses himself up in between.
"Oooh," Penelope says, "I know what that one is."
"What?" Reid asks, a little breathless.
"That is your utterly magnificent cock."
"Mmmhmm," he says, lower now, reaching down to line their bodies up right.
"That's my favorite. Now get this godforsaken thing off of my eyes so I can watch you give it to me."