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lake-archive · 4 months

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First Meeting Of The Year

AO3 Link - Fling Posse Selfship / Yumeship Masterlist

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Ramuda Amemura, Dice Arisugawa, Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Fling Posse x Ann

Tags: New Year's Fluff, New Years, Amemura Ramuda-centric, Yumeno Gentaro-centric, Arisugawa Dice-centric, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship, Japanese Culture, Kimono, Original Character(s), Major Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Original Character-centric, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderqueer Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited

Words: 1,961

What is the most important time of the year? Well, depending on who you ask it might depend to be honest. For Ann it had always been spending time with their family yet that was not really an option any longer. Their father had been thrown out by their mother and their mother had thrown them out later as well. So the first day of the year had to be spent differently. They had been wondering how though during the last week of the year, thinking about it ever so deeply…

That was until they had received an invitation from Ramuda, who may have noticed their little problem just by looking at them.

“Hey Ann–Chan, what are you thinking about?”

“Eh? Uhm… Nothing special. Just… Uhm… Well… I haven’t spent New Year’s day without my family. So… I was wondering… How—”

“Oh? That? Why not come with us and visit a shrine on that day?”

“A shrine visit?” Ah, right, they have heard of the tradition yet never had a chance to try it. Their parents were not native Japanese and had never heard of it before. A shrine visit, the first one of the year… What was it called again? Hatsumode? They never expected Ramuda to–

“Yeah! Gentaro invited Dice and me! I bet he won’t mind if you came along too~!”

“Y… You sure? I think if he only invited you two, then it’s something only Fling Posse should—”

“No way! I’m sure he won’t mind! I’ll tell him that you will come with us too! And he can’t do a thing about this!” The last part he said with the utmost confidence. In fact, he even puffed his chest a little as he got up from the couch, hands on his hips. Probably one of the proudest stances Ramuda could have taken and they had ever seen from him. He was more than certain about this. That or he just wanted Ann to tag along and would not take ‘no’ as an answer in any way. In any case, they ended up agreeing yet it left them in a panic once returning home.

Hatsumode… So this was very important, wasn’t it? One could not take this lightly. The first shrine visit of the year, they had to prepare. After all, how embarrassing was it to admit that Ann themself had lived in Japan for years yet had never participated in Hatsumode properly? They didn’t want to get laughed at or teased about it in any way. Plus, it was a special occasion! So they could not show up in their usual clothing, right!? Right! That was an absolute no go! Who knows what the guys would end up wearing, Gentaro especially… Given the traditional attire he wore already everyday. Except Dice maybe? Then again, they were not exactly sure… Anyway, if they took it lightly they would not be able to show their face! So they had to carefully think about it! First shrine visit… A very special shrine visit…

There was this kimono they had. Sure, it was a few years old yet they had not grown since then. Besides, they still had it thanks to having been able to save up for it some time ago. They were not big on fashion but when it came to some Japanese fashion, they adored it. To the point they loved wearing it. In fact, they had a few yukatas as well they always wore to festivals here and there. And a kimono was of course in their possession! Even if it was from their days when they were still pretending to be someone they were not but… It was the best they had. A proper kimono can be expensive and they couldn’t afford it at this point in time. But maybe for next year! Yes, surely for next year!

The main color of said kimono was a greenish color. Nothing too bright but nothing too dark either. It fit Ann just right. It had no complicated pattern either, some dark colored flowers around the chest area and the legs. The waistband they would need as well was a plain black. It was nothing fancy of course yet they liked it, even now. They even had a fitting hair accessory, something they barely wore. It was not a hat, of course not, but a long hair pin in the shape of cherry blossoms. Of course it had also been colored green, fitting for their own kimono. And in a way they had been excited, being finally able to wear it properly. They never really had a chance before but now… They were glad that they had bought it! This was the perfect outfit!

Well, or so they had thought.. Because…

The moment they had arrived at the designated meeting spot they were met with perhaps the biggest shocker they could manage. It was not something they had expected, to say the least. Well, maybe from one of them but all three… The trio had been staring at them, slightly confused. They even tilted their heads the moment they had seen Ann in this getup in particular. Was it so wrong to wear their kimono on such an occasion!? They may as well use it, right!? Right!? That was the thought process at the very least. And yet, they only got those head tilts… Those ever so dreading head tilts, asking them the following:

“Ann–Chan, you didn’t have to be that serious about it.” Ramuda had pointed out. To their surprise he had not shown up in some special, festive getup but was rather casual about this. He had been in his usual wear all along! Alright, maybe he did not have time to prepare or something! He was usually busy! So that was fair enough.

But Gentaro… He only had a slight grin on his face, trying to cover up his smile a little with one of his wide sleeves in fact. It was as if he was at the brink of chuckling, him even shivering a little from the near laughter. “That Ann–San… Would take a New Year’s tradition that seriously…” He only said, almost whispered yet it was loud enough for everyone to hear. It wasn't hidden at all! He was doing a horrible job at it!

As for Dice… He had been speechless this entire time, only staring in somewhat of a disbelief. “Ma would compliment it… I guess… Makes me feel guilty to not show up in fancy clothing or somethin’.” He only let out, still staring in disbelief. They had no idea what this meant yet he had been looking, to say the least. Just as much as the other two were. The three had been looking at them in utter disbelief.

Ann had only looked at all three of them, noticing the redness which had built up on their face. They had been feeling warmer around their face, noticing just how embarrassing this was. They looked like a tryhard compared to them all! They had showed up in everyday clothing and here they were, in their kimono! Guh… Were they doing it wrong? If so then… “Was that… Not something I was supposed to do?” They had asked ever so carefully. Because maybe they had gotten something wrong… And if so this would be the most embarrassing New Year’s Day in their entire life! Even more embarrassing than when they had accidentally gotten a little tipsy and—

“Ah, no! Please, do not worry about it too much, Ann–San.” Gentaro tried to reassure them, finally calming himself down it seems and turning back to face them. “It was just a surprise for all of us, truly.”

“Yeah yeah! A biig surprise!” Ramuda added, even making the right motion with his arms to emphasize how huge this surprise was. “This big! But but… You look really cute today! I got no complaints!” The last part had been added with his usual smile. No, not the usual. He was smiling brighter than before. “That this is Ann–Chan’s first outfit I would see them in… Lucky me~!”

“Yeah, what they said. It’s just a surprise, kinda.” Dice agreed with the other two yet seemed to fumble with his words a little. Though they couldn’t say why exactly. Was he not used to this or… Was he flustered at the sight? Ah, no way! That wasn’t it! He was probably just as caught off guard as the other two.

“R… Really now? Erm… Then… This isn’t wrong?” They had asked, still sounding a little embarrassed. Compared to the other three they stood out a little, probably. Their kimono hugging their figure… No, kind of covering it and all of that. At least it was warm so they couldn’t complain too much.

“Of course not. if thou wish to make this shrine visit extra special, there are no complaints.” Gentaro responded, smiling softly.

“Eh? Extra special? But the first shrine visit of the year is always the most important, isn’t it?”

“Hmm… I cannot argue with thee about that either. But we are no longer in times where thou has to dress extra fancy.”

“C… Come on now…”

“Again, if thou wish to wear it… Do you see those three men complaining?” He then pointed at each of them respectively while speaking.

Ramuda had just been smiling brightly, a little excited, as if saying ‘This is a change of pace from the usual’ and he was more than happy about it. He couldn’t stop staring and if it was not for the moment maybe he would have gotten the phone out of his pocket.

Dice was staring Ann up and down, first not too sure what to say yet he let out a slight smirk afterwards. He didn’t seem to mind in the end and even seemed to compliment it by eyeing it. They were not sure how to react and yet they just took it as a compliment, even if slightly flustered.

Gentaro was a different story, he had been smirking all this time. And yet, they found something odd about his gaze. Not in a bad way, just… In an unusual way. And yet, he did not seem to complain. In fact, he only tried to reassure them in the end, put them at ease. And they were grateful for that in the end. No, really.

In fact all of that made them sigh in relief, that they had not embarrassed themself completely in front of all three of them. But they should keep it in mind for next time… Well, that or they might wear it again… Just to have it as an excuse to wear it. It’s only a small bonus if the three had liked it.

“Alright, understood. Shall we be on our way then?” They asked, smiling lightly. They had not expected to be this eager but they were. No matter what their fortune they might be told at the beginning of the year… They had faith that it would turn out to be a great and fun one. With everyone on their side… Their dear friends, the old cat and their crew partner and crime. And of course the trio known as Fling Posse. They were confident that this year would turn out to be a great one nonetheless. After all, it was already starting to look promising, wasn’t it?

“As long as you are there… I’m sure this year can’t go wrong. I will look forward to what the future holds, no matter how bad it gets. Because as long as you are by my side… I think we will make it through just fine. No, I don’t think so… I’m more than certain of it!”

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arickaandherfictionalothers · 10 months

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Always be my little girl- Part One

(Aricka “Little A/Mini-Mav/Lucky Charm” Mitchell and Pete Mitchell)

(Pete meets his daughter for the first time)

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go.

Gonna tell you how much I love you, though you think you already know…

Pete stood in the crowded terminal of the airport, waiting for something- for someone- he never expected he’d be waiting for.

Today was the day that he became a dad, officially.

Two months ago, his on again/off again partner, Charlie Blackwood, called him late at night, saying he was the father of twins-!- and that she was signing over custody of their daughter- his daughter. A little girl. She said her name was Aricka; after his twin; and that Pete deserved to raise one of his children and that Aricka was his miniature in every way.

But he knew that Charlie had never wanted a daughter. She’d always wanted a son. This was her way of giving her to someone else who could raise her. Someone who’d always wanted a daughter.

He had a picture of her with him, held tightly in his hand along with a pink stuffed bear, his first gift for his kid. The picture showed two blonde haired children, a little boy with Charlie’s grin and facial features, and he had Pete’s same colored eyes and a protective grip on his twin-which made him smile- and then he saw his daughter. She was blonde, yes, but her eyes were definitely his- green with blue specks. And her smile was his, too. There was no denying that she had the same mischievous, “up to absolutely no good,” smile as he had.

She really was his mini-me.

His twin walked over to him then; looped her arm through his. “You look like you’re about to vibrate outta your skin, Pete,” she says. “Take a deep breath. The plane just landed. I’m sure wrangling two toddlers is difficult for anyone. Including Charlie.”

“I’ve missed four years of her life already, Ricki,” he says. “She doesn’t even know me yet. What if- what if she doesn’t like me?”

Ricki makes a tsking noise, “now that isn’t the overconfident “all ladies love me,” Pete I know and love.” She moves to stand in front of him. “She’s your daughter. How can she not love you already? I’m sure Charlie’s told her all about you. I’m betting she already adores you. And she hasn’t even seen you yet.”

I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm.

You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born…

Just then he saw a flash of blonde hair in the crowd. “We’re about to find out,” he says, and waves so Charlie could make her way over to him.

She was holding their son- Jeremy- on her hip, and had a firm grasp on the hand of someone else- and that’s when he saw her.

Aricka Mitchell. His little girl. She was wearing a floral print blouse under a pair of pink overalls, and had a pair of pink and white converse high tops on. Her hair was secured in two ponytails with pink bows on either side of her head.

Pete thought she was the most angelic creature he’d ever seen. “Hi, Charlie,” he says, unable to look away from his kid- his daughter, who was staring up at him like he was the coolest thing she’d ever seen.

“Pete. I’d like to introduce you to your daughter- Aricka Mitchell.” Ricki gasped softly and it was then Pete remembered he hadn’t exactly told his twin the name of her niece.

Oops.

He kneels down, makes eye contact with his daughter, who looked very unsure but very curious at the same time. “Hi Aricka,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.” No answer. “Do you like stuffed animals? I saw this guy in the toy store and thought he’d be a good friend for you.” He holds the bear out. Watches.

Waits.

The four year old looks up at Charlie, who nods expectantly. Little Aricka looks back at him, and takes a step forward. Touches the soft satin bow around the neck of the bear.

Then two tiny hands snatch the toy from his grip and pulls it back towards her like she was afraid he’d take it back. She hugs the bear close, probably noticing like he had that it smelled faintly like strawberries. Little green eyes meet his, and stare right through him it seemed.

You're beautiful baby from the outside in.

Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again….

With two steps, she was in his space, little arms wrapping around his neck and her little head resting on his shoulder, and instinctively, he held her close. “Daddy?” She whispered, and with one word, Pete was irrevocably tied to the little girl in his arms. He knew in that moment, the rest of his life would be devoted to her safety, well being and happiness.

He would be the best parent ever for the little girl he was holding currently.

Go on, take on this whole world.

But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, face pressing into a tiny shoulder, breathing in her baby-scent. “It’s me. It’s daddy. I’ve got you.”

With those words, his daughter relaxes and sighs, snuggling even closer to his warmth. “My daddy,” she says happily.

My little girl, Pete thinks. Always my little girl.

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@astralshipper @rosieshipper @hyperionshipping @sappy-secrets @yeehawselfshipping @letsgofoletsgo @tsundere-selfship @callsign-revenge

#Spotify #MavDad and MiniMav #dad and daughter self ship #Aricka and Maverick #Aricka and MavDad #minimav AU

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bosskie · 11 months

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About feelings toward Molluck

As I said related to that poll I made, I'm gonna talk more about the topic now.

It was delightful to see that the most of participants did love to love Molluck. Frankly, I didn't expect this result. It was also fun to see you also taking that kinda a 'joke answer' since it was a reference to the newspapers in Soulstorm's worst ending, how the Sligs described Molluck there. I have just laughed at those newspapers. But thanks for everyone who answered! It was nice to see so many answering to that.

Like I said, I personally love to love Molluck. I bet that there's many reasons why someone can love him but love ain't rational still and true love has no reasons.

When I saw Molluck for the first time, he didn't catch my attention, both his Abe's Oddysee version and Soulstorm's. But when I watched all those cutscenes for Soulstorm (didn't have the game yet), I started to see myself in him and then notice more things about him. No other character has felt so 'me'; he's like a dream for me, someone I have wanted to find. He feels 'right' for me.

I have formed a deep relationship with him and love him so much. I can't help myself. I know that he is mere fiction but he still lives inside my head (too). Even it was probably better that 'the disaster' happened to his life, I still can't help myself but wish all the best for him. I just see that he is a special Glukkon and he does have a heart. I feel that he has also needed to do his business in the way he did to please his investors and the Magog Cartel. He calling his investors 'creepy' tells me a lot. And even he is quite pissed off in Soulstorm, he still seems somehow warm when he talks with the Chauffeur. The way he gave those instructions how to get into the Brewery to him is one of those examples why I feel like this. Even his way to talk can be rough, he still seemed like trying to calm him by giving clear instructions and saying that 'it's easy'; it was like his way to say that 'everything is gonna be alright'. The tone of his voice also feels friendly. This is how I at least see this scene.

But like we all, Molluck also has his flaws and downsides. He probably has some anger issues, like those newspapers suggested. He probably also doesn't forgive you if you betray him. And like those newspapers also suggested, he wishes things to go like he wants and can't stand it if that doesn't happen.

For me, it seems like he is actually just into earning his moolah and living his luxury life, looking forward for his retirement, not so much into butchery; he was sent to lead the RuptureFarms after all.

Maybe my love is making me blind for some things but I can't help myself with him. No one other character has ever made me feel this good. He is also just so adorable for me... He is such a cutie too...

I just love to be able to have this imagination and my own 'world' he is a part of. All this love and passion makes my life just better. I have read some people seeing things like this as sad and not understanding stuff like this but if the person who loves a fictional character is a child. I just can't help myself that I barely have interest to this stuff in reality, only if it's true love, though I would love to be able to be with Molluck in reality... Well, there's technology!

Oh, and I have been doing my Molluck game but it's gonna take time but I hope that I can also show Molluck's personality there, like how I see him. I have even heard some people saying that Molluck doesn't even really have one but I do see that Molluck does have a personality. He might not be colourful but when he gets angry but his personality is there, in all those little pieces of information about him.

But it's interesting to see how people see him and feel toward him. He is often seen as handsome/attractive but is there something else? Frankly, I wouldn't be into him if he was only a handsome shell. I see that he is able to love if he is truly loved and able to be friendly if he truly likes you. If OWI tried to make him ugly, like the Soulstorm artbook suggests, well, they failed for quite many, but like it's said, beauty is the eye of the beholder. Glukkons are meant to be ugly in general but I just more like find them adorable and they are my favourite Oddworld creatures!

I can't help myself but love that Gluk... He even made me buy a cigar... I feel that I understand his cigar thing too.

~ Molluck-tastic day for ya!

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singsweetmelodies · 1 year

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60, 59, 36 and 14 for the otp ask?❤️

thanks so much for these, dear anon! let's make these last ones fully fill that saying "last but not least" :D 💞

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

answered here 💙

59. Who tops? Who bottoms?

HAHAHAHAHAHA, omg. omfg. you know, i was just waiting for someone to send this ask. i was waiting for it, bahahaha. i bet you knew exactly what you were doing with this one, right, anon? lmaooo.

well, the first thing i'm going to say is - according to the people, here is your answer. charles bottoms 98% of the time, whereas pierre is 100% a switch. so it would usually be pierre tops and charles bottoms, but very occasionally, they switch it up. 👌

and you know what, i agree. the piarlies have excellent taste 😌 in my headcanons, yep, pierre tops, 9 times out of 10. to me, he just gives such cocky, confident top energy most of the time - he's all "yep, i have a big cock, and i know what to do with it" BDE. sometimes, though. sometimes he can just be such an incredible little shit, and so infuriating, but in the cutest way possible. "baby brother mode activated," as i like to call it - because he knows he's annoying, but he also knows he can get away with it, because he knows exactly how cute he is. at times like these, i feel like he just needs to be pushed up against a wall and kissed stupid. or maybe bent over a table and --[gunshots]

and as for charles - well, i mean, if you just look at charles interacting with any other man... he's not a top. or at least, not usually. he's got the biggest babygirl/pillow princess/bottom energy i have ever seen in a professional athlete, lmfao. (i adore him for it.) i do also think, though, that charles is not 100% a bottom. i mean, hell, he's a race-car driver, and he's said it himself that he can be a control freak. so i feel like sometimes - but only sometimes! - that translates into bed, and he wants to be in control. he's also fit enough (thanks for the proof, ferrari thirst traps) that he's definitely strong enough to push pierre up against things and hold him down, if he really wants to. but that's the exception, not the rule. most of the time, he's more than happy to lie back and be taken apart 😌 which works out very well, because pierre loves to top if it's charles beneath him. match made in heaven <3

36. Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry?

to be completely honest with you, i don't think either of them would do this with a great deal of success - purely because i don't think either of them are the very best of cooks. charles, as we know, is very proud of the fact that he can do a good pasta. but... that's also about all he can do 😆 and pierre is not a lot better, lmao. in fact, in my headcanon, his culinary skills are limited to a fry-up. so if either of them were to wake up suddenly and ravenously hungry at night, i think they'd be more likely to raid the fridge/pantry and eat whatever they can find, diets notwithstanding.

and as for who would do it for who - well, i feel like charles sleeps like the absolute dead, lmao, and takes about twenty-odd minutes to wake up properly. the chances of him being coherent enough to do anything for pierre at 2am are incredibly low. pierre, on the other hand, is probably one of those people who gets massive bursts of energy late at night. so i'm just imagining an exhausted charles trailing after a hyper pierre, trying not to fall asleep on his shoulder as pierre raids the fridge... 🥺 that is an INCREDIBLY cute image, actually, and i kind of love it. yep! that's my answer. charles would wake up at 2am and stagger down to the kitchen with pierre, but he'd be a lot less helpful and a lot more sleepy and cute. and then they would probably end up making out on the counter, because charles is just too adorable when he's all soft and sleepy like that, and pierre can't help himself. midnight snack forgotten in favour of... well, midnight dessert. heh. needless to say, that's sleeping done for the evening.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

oooooohhh, this is a fab one! and fair warning... i fucking LOVE to talk about characterisation/how these two are foils for each other, so *ahem* buckle yourself in, because this is going to be a long one.

the first point i want to talk about is a bit of a depressing one, but it's also one that i feel is very crucial to their characters. it's all about how they handle loss - and i touched on it a little bit here, when i was talking about hiding their emotions/the other being able to tell anyway. but i want to go into a bit more depth here: especially on charles. because i feel like charles is someone who has lost so much - and yet, he manages to do almost unbelievable things (like win an f2 race) right after terrible loss (his father passing away.) to me, this is a crucial part of who he is. he is able to compartmentalise incredibly effectively - he has to be, otherwise there's no way he'd still be able to race after everything he's lost. he has also said in interviews that he's all about living in the moment, and knowing how lucky he is that he gets to be where he is. so, yeah. charles is someone who handles loss by compartmentalising it, and then not dwelling on it in favour of focusing on what he does have, instead.

pierre, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. like i said in that linked post, he has a tendency to overthink, and get lost in his own head about things. if he makes a mistake, he's likely to replay it, and agonise over it to the point that it becomes worse and worse. this is, of course, the exact opposite to charles, who doesn't dwell on mistakes or losses. he just moves on to the next thing he can control - which is both a good thing, and sometimes less good, because there are times in which you need to take the time to process. so i feel like their personalities complement each other incredibly well in that aspect: when pierre overthinks too much, charles is there to ground him and help him let it go/live in the moment for a little while. at the same time, pierre is there to remind charles that it's okay to let himself overthink, just once in a while, to help him process. and since they've known each other for so long, i think they've helped each other like this a lot of times. so, yeah. that's a beautiful point of complimenting personalities there.

another point of characterisation i want to talk about is their sibling status! anyone with siblings knows alllll the sibling clichés, lmao - but the thing about clichés is they're often rooted in truth. charles is a middle child, and middle children are often the ones struggling with self-doubt and a lack of self-confidence because their older sibling gets all the praise. now, i don't think this is quite the case for charles, but then again, he did grow up in both lorenzo AND jules' shadows. that can't have been easy, and charles has confirmed in that f1 "when we were young" documentary that he's always struggled to believe in himself. we see it today still - when something goes wrong, he will always blame himself. when it goes right, he will thank the team, not himself. argh. my heart. but anyway. to contrast this with pierre! pierre, now, is a completely different story. he's a youngest child - the absolute baby of his family - and also, per that one biography of his, the "glue" that keeps the entirety of the gasly family together. he's very much adored there, and i can just imagine him being spoiled rotten, lmao. the result of this is that he has a whole fuck-ton of self-confidence, and that he's also quite used to getting his way.

clearly, this contrasts quite sharply with charles, and i can imagine them clashing over it, every so often. maybe pierre can be a little too cocky and energetic and/or needy when charles just needs a little more time to feel more settled and less self-doubting. however - and pierre and charles' own interviews support me here - i don't think they actually clash, as in fight, all that often. actually, they have said that they agree on almost everything, and very rarely argue. so, yeah. while i can imagine small, bitchy fights if they're both stressed, and getting on each other's nerves, i don't really think that they would get into very big blow-ups. also? they just care about each other too much to truly be petty. and they understand each other, so, again, it's easy to resolve fights and forgive each other. 💜

ahhh, and i could talk about characterisation for literal hours more, but i shall force myself to stop, because i do still need to get some work done today 🥲 one last little point before i go, though: another way in which i think pierre and charles are beautifully complimentary is in their shared sense of humour. i am going to link you to two videos to prove my case: here we have a tiny sauber!charles laughing his babygirl head off at jokes and puns that really aren't even funny. and here we have an equally tiny toro rosso!pierre, also giggling like crazy at dad jokes that definitely aren't that amusing. my conclusion? they share the same terrible sense of humour, and that's probably why we always, always see them laughing and giggling together. and you know how the saying goes: boyfriends who laugh together, stay together :DD <3

(obligatory otp asks)

#asks & answers #anon #obligatory otp asks #thank you SO much for this one; anon!!#i feel like that was a really; really nice note to end off on ❤️#these two just fit each other like nobody else can... aaahhhh #i have never ever been this insane about a pairing before. truly never #THEY JUST MAKE ME SO HAPPYYYY #like. those two videos of them giggling over dumb jokes and being silly babygirls with even sillier senses of humour?#i am smiling like a fucking IDIOT #and i cannot stop myself #just. AHHHH. they are the best #and they make me :DDDD <333 forever #🦑🏎️ piarles #my hcs

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder. Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse. It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback. Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room. Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly. "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them. But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to. Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley. "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability. My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please. Treat it like a normal arm. And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different. Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly. “However much you think I can handle, double it. I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that. You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh." That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene? “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight. Red means stop. Yellow means proceed with caution. Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact. I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely. And then there’s ‘blue.’ That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far. “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright? I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded. “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed. “I’m not charging you for this part. We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed. “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it. “And what is it that you’re looking forward to? What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you. “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes. Strongest you have. I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time? He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles? Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question. “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit. “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try. Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed. “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ��dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that. He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard. And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward. “How do you feel about ‘pet’?”

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again. “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile. He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like? Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment. “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred. “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest. “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually. Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore. He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting. Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm. It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right? It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently. It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to. More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel? Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath. You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling. You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly. He shook his head. "Are you ready?"

He nodded. You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him. Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut. When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura. “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could. He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly. “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away. “Baby, please—”

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine. “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around… my cock. Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft. His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that. Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you. "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant. He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock.

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you. "How does it feel, baby?"

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr. He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing. "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure. You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing. Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot. The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch. And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more. How could you say no?

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me? Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth. “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be. Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer. His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you. It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit. He winced as you sighed contentedly. "Fuck, it feels good. Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled. "I just wanna come with your cock inside me. I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy? Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls. Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself. He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod. "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?"

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle. Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment. "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince. "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly. He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open. For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for. You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you. "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back? That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy. He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded. "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting. He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock. The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur. “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after. You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes. But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss. He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest. “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect. It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken. Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers. Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise. As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits. You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted. “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick. And my brain is all fuzzy…”

You smiled. “Can’t help the first one. Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly. “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled. “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move. He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle. "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience. You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience. I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace. "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question. "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him. "It looks pretty luscious. I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face. His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something. How long had he been single? With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards. He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him. And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax? Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this. And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

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dr4kenlvr · 3 years

Text

dating baji keisuke

pairing: baji keisuke x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight bickering but that's normal in relationships no?,

a/n: yes nana is in love with baji <3 read tokyo revengers guys! i went a little crazy but- it's baji so it's okay.

dating baji keisuke has to be one of the most chaotic, fun-filled, and loving experiences on earth

like his relationship with the toman founding members, he views you as his treasure and he would put his life on the line if it meant you would be alive and well

baji seems like the kind of guy who would rather have you far from the gang in order to ensure your protection

he's a bad bitch and the guy can fight thats for sure, but he can't always be near you especially when things get hectic in toman

he'd rather have you at home, and he can visit you whenever

despite that, he would love for you to meet his close friends!

baji believes that getting along with your s/o's friends is a good way to build trust, and to simply spend more time together <3

so you bet he's gonna try to get along with your friends too

if you're a studious person (good job! <3), baji's gonna ask your ass for help because we both know he needs it

whip his ass into shape because he's got a science test coming up LMAO

if you're not so studious (that's okay <3), then cue the half-assed study sessions

he would ask for a break every 10 minutes because 'chemical formulas are making his eyeballs melt'

he's so dramatic i can't

now, considering his violent nature- baji will beat bitches up it's called for, even if someone looks at you weirdly he won't hesitate to call them out

"the fuck you lookin' at turd?!"

"you look like literal dog shit, shut your ass up."

you laughed out loud at his vile words before telling him to quit it and move on

when you two have time off of school, clubs and the gang (LMAO), baji would take you on rides around the city!

spontaneous rides are his fav, he'll text you to get ready to go at 10 PM when he's already outside your house

(will leave in respect if your family won't allow you out so late)

when you two do go, it varies what ya'll do from getting take-out yakisoba to trying to save a cat from a tree

speaking of cats, when you go over to his place (his mother adores you), stray cats are often seen roaming his room

the two of you love to take care of them together; buying them food, rubbing their tummies, and even showering them

baji can't thank you enough for coming over to take care of the cats with him

he seems like the kind of guy who would love going to bed holding you in some way, shape or form

spooning you? yes. spooing him? of course. you lying atop him? go for it. him lying atop of you? more often than you think.

just having you with him through the night makes him feel loved and so warm inside

sometimes a cat will join ya'll and he'll tear up from the cuteness ngl

if you slept over, baji would 100% follow you into the bathroom and while you're brushing your teeth, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and slump his head atop yours

has a cute morning voice, and he's whiny

if you often tie your hair or if it's at a length that can be tied at times, baji'll keep a couple extra bands on his wrist to lend to you whenever you need

likewise, you do the same because his weave breaks all his band elastics tbh

whipping it and shit in every fight

at times when he comes over to your place injured, you scold him, telling him that you don't want to see him like this ever again

he knows he's capable, telling you these scratches and bruises are nothing to him

you two bicker over this quite a lot, it's one of the only thing you two fight over

you know that his affiliation with toman is built from love and trust, not fighting and drugs

it's one of the many reasons why you haven't tried to get him out of it

he loves his friends so much, but he also loves you

baji doesn't want to argue with you any longer, so he does this thing where he holds your hand, rubbing his rough fingers across your palm before mumbling a soft "m'sorry."

you forgive him, only because you know he's sincere with his words despite getting in fights all over again

you love him, what can you say?

#baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #baji fluff #baji keisuke fluff #baji x reader #baji x reader fluff #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #baji headcanons #baji keisuke headcanons #ILHSM #<333

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maple-the-awesome · 2 years

Text

Peter, We Have A Problem ||

Pairing: (Any) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 4,000

Overview: Aunt May and your parents visit for dinner, but instead of having a peaceful night with family like you had ordinally hoped for, your husband and yourself are stressed with the task of hiding an unexpected problem from your relatives, one that could expose Spiderman's true identity if you aren't careful enough.

Marvel Masterlist ❤️ Fandom Masterlist

Note: This can be seen as a continuation of 'The Hidden Threat'

Even from your spot in the kitchen, you can hear the living room TV echoing. Every couple of minutes, you'll take a short break from your work to peek around the corner, smiling contently at the sight that always greets you. For the last hour since he returned home, Peter has been sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the couch, his arms wrapped around your son who is placed on top his lap. Both Parker boys carry the same hypnotized looks on their faces, their mouths slightly agape with their eyes glued on whatever episode of Sesame Street is currently playing on the TV, although, you doubt the youngest understands most of it. He's likely just happy to be with his daddy.

While Peter keeps an eye on the baby, you've gotten to work on making dinner. About a week ago, you had made plans with both your parents and Aunt May to have dinner together. While they claimed that a family visit has been long overdue, it's clear they're mainly wanting to spend more time with the baby, not that you could ever blame them for being entranced by such an adorably cubby face.

Little Benjamin Reilly Parker was born on June 14th with a small fluff of brown hair upon his head and a healthy weight of 7.6 pounds. Needless to say, after months of constant illness, mood swings, and relentless kicking from the baby, you were very eager to finally meet the little monster as was your husband.

Benjamin is only six and half months old, yet he already has his daddy wrapped around his finger, Peter happily taking on the role of a doting father regardless of what it entails. If Ben's hungry, he'll volunteer to cradle him with a bottle no matter the hour. If Ben wants to play, you can expect to find your husband sprawled across the carpet with the baby lying next to him in his activity gym. If Ben is being extra fussy with you during the night, you bet Spiderman is going to kick someone's ass much faster so that he can sooner get home to his son.

Speaking of Spiderman, Ben doesn't seem to notice a difference between the hero and daddy. The second Peter crawls through the window, Ben is already reaching out to him with a smile and endless babbling, knowing all too well who's under the mask. About a month ago there had even been a few pictures on the Daily Bugle of Spiderman stopping to say 'hello' to young mother and her baby. Of course, you played dumb when your parents called to inquire about the incident, agreeing with them that Spider must not be able to resist such a cute baby while also secretly elbowing Peter who had laid his head against your shoulder with a smirk as he listened in.

If there's one good thing about Ben's young age, it's his inability to talk so far. You've brought the worry up to Peter a few times, quizzing him on what he'll do if lil’ Ben ever starts referring to Spiderman as dad in front of people. Peter often chooses to brush the question off, insisting that Ben's young enough for the two of you to convince people he just thinks of his dad as a superhero, although, you're personally not convinced with that plan. Eventually, your son will have to be taught to keep his father's secret just that, but for now, it isn't too big of a concern, after all, Ben has yet to even say his first word. It's not like he'll suddenly say 'hey, Spiderman's my dad' the next time you take him to the store.

Peter's arms snake around your waist as you stir the pasta noodles, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck which draws a smile from you," May just texted a few minutes ago. They’re almost here.”

He just nods, smiling against the exposed skin of your neck.

“You know, she offered to bring a meatloaf, too."

Even without seeing it, you know he's making a face by the sound he makes alone, hiding himself further away in your hair," thank goodness you're cooking. Don't ever tell her, but your cooking is way better than hers."

"Now Peter, I can't lie to Aunt May. I promised to tell her everything," you giggle when glancing back at him, his bottom lip pushed out in a pout as he whines your name," I'm joking. You know your secrets are always safe with me, my dear.”

Peter hums in satisfaction, pressing a couple of quick kisses starting at the crook of your neck to your cheek before pulling himself away to grab the glass of water he originally came into the kitchen for. Meanwhile, you turn off the stove and go to grab some cream cheese from the fridge, subconsciously glancing towards the living room where you should've seen Ben sitting in either his bouncer or laying in his activity gym in front of the TV, but he's in neither spot," did you put Ben in the crib?"

Peter pulls the water glass away from his lips, raising an eyebrow at your strange question," no? I laid him down on his blanket so that he could play with his toys.”

It only takes you two steps to enter the living room. Seeing that your apartment isn't huge, neither are any of the rooms, therefore, you have a full view of the floor just from where you stand. At first, you expect to discover Ben either rolling or crawling around the carpet as such as been a habit of his ever since he first learned to rock his body about a month ago, but instead, you didn't see your child anywhere, making your heart drop into your stomach.

"Peter, he's not here."

"What do you mean ‘he's not here’?" You husband doesn't sound concerned, the meaning behind your words not processing in his mind.

You walk around the room distraughtly, looking on the other side of the coffee table and the two small couches," I mean he's not here. I don't see him!"

It only takes seconds for Peter join you in the living room, panic sketched across his face when he realizes you aren't just pulling his leg. The baby really is nowhere in sight causing both of you to franticly search for him, your minds racing as would any parent's if in your situation.

"I only left him for a minute at best! How could he have crawled away that fast? Babies aren't that fast, right?" Peter runs down the hallway, his eyes scanning the floor in search of his son. He even looks around the bedroom and bathroom despite both doors having been shut just on the off chance that Ben somehow got inside.

"I don't see him, Peter! How-How could he have just disappeared like this? How did we lose our baby?!" You get onto the ground yourself, checking under the couches and tables then dashing into the kitchen in hopes that lil’ Ben had tried crawling in there after his father. No luck.

"Maybe we're just missing him?"

"How do you miss a baby, Peter!? It's a baby!" Your hands are on your head, your fingers digging into your hair as you face your husband, your thoughts racing over how terrible of a mother you must be to lose your six-month-old baby.

"I don't know-!" Peter doesn't finish his sentence, instead jumping back when a small drop of water hits his forehead. Even you notice, both of you looking up ever so slowly from each other to where the droplet had fallen from. The sight makes your eyes widen and hearts race even more than they have been if that's even possible.

"...Peter?"

"...Yes, dear?"

"W-What the fuck?!"

Both of your eyes are locked on the ceiling, or better put, on your son;your six-and-a-half-month-old son who is hanging upside down directly above your husband with his signature two-tooth grin and a line of drool dripping from his puffy lips. All either of you could do is stare for what felt like an eternity, that was, until you break the silence with a cry.

"Peter, get him down!"

Your husband snaps out of his trance, leaping up and easily grabbing hold of your son, although, he has a bit of difficultly with the 'getting him down' part. Moving his knees to the ceiling, Peter gently tugs on Ben, yet the baby's hands and knees remain glued to their spot," he won't let go."

"What do you he won't let go? Just pull him off."

"I don't want to hurt him."

You think for a second before standing on the coffee table, but even on your toes, you can't exactly reach him, your fingertips only barely brushing against Ben's back. He babbles, reaching one hand out to you with a grabby motion," don't let him fall, Peter."

"I won't."

"Come on, Ben. Let go and come to mama. You want mama, right?" At last, Ben removes his other hand, reaching it out to you with his knees becoming unstuck soon after. Peter's hand on his back prevents him from falling, allowing him to slowly lower Ben into your safe arms where you've never held onto him so tightly before.

Peter falls to your side, the two of you searching Ben for any injuries before looking into each other’s flabbergasted eyes. You open your mouth, although, you aren't sure what you'll even say. You don't get the chance anyways. A ring echoes through the apartment as well as a soft knocking at the front door which makes both of your mouths fall open.

"...Shit. SHIT!"

"Language-uh, the baby!" Peter fusses even though he's saying the same word inside his head. The realization hits you both like a train. You know Ben takes after Peter in both looks and personality, but powers to? You have a baby who sticks to walls and you're only just figuring this out the second your family arrives?!

"What do we do? How do we explain Ben sticking to stuff?"

"We don't. Here, I'll get the door and watch over Ben while you finish dinner," you go to hand Ben over to Peter, but when you hold him out, his hands remain stuck to your shirt. You whine Peter's name, remaining frozen as he tries to shake Ben's grip from you to no avail.

“Okay, new plan. I'll get the door, you finish dinner. Don't. Ruin. It,” there’s no time for arguing or new plans, another ring sounding off from the front door. Putting on your best 'I didn't just find my baby on the ceiling' smile, you hurry to the door with Ben while Peter dives into the kitchen.

"Hi," you sing when seeing May and your parents together, stepping aside to let them in while praying they won't notice your alarmed state," it's good to see you all again. Please come in."

"It's always great to see you, too, (Y/n), as well as this little cutie, of course," May waves at Ben with a bright smile which grows when he giggles at her, trying to hide his face against your shirt. Meanwhile, you give both of your parents the best side hug you can while also holding Ben's unwavering grip as far away from touching any of them as possible.

"Oh, he's gotten so much bigger since the last time we visited. You're making your grandma feel old, little bug," your mother coos at her grandson, reaching her arms out to take him from you only to be confused when you suddenly turn your body away sharply.

You're quick to redirect the conversation before she can be offended," Peter's in the kitchen finishing dinner so we can all sit in the living room until it’s done. Please excuse the mess, we didn't have much time to clean up Ben’s toys."

"No one's going to blame you. Having kids is a messy business," your father jokes, the three of them heading into the living room with you in their trail. With their backs turned, they are completely unaware of your internal dread as you fruitlessly attempt to pry Ben from your shirt once again. Peter has told you about how much he stuck to everything when he first got his powers, but this is ridiculous not to mention poorly timed!

Once everyone's seated, you give an quick excuse while dodging your way into the kitchen where you find your husband rushing to get the sauce made with his limited cooking skills.

"Ben, come to dada," he calls, providing you a small bit of relief when Ben listens and reaches for him, although, his leg remains stuck to your shirt. The two of you gently fight with him for a moment, trying to weaken his grip without too much force when a voice comes up behind you.

"I baked a pie for dessert; it’s Peter's favorite. Should I just set it here?" By the time May looks up from her pie tin, Peter's arms are around your waist, pulling you to him with Ben sandwiched between you both, not that the little guy minds, in fact, he seems to loving the extra attention he's receiving.

"Yep, that's fine," Peter gives a rushed nod, swiveling the two of you so that he can lean over to kiss May's cheek as she sets the pie on the corner next to him," it's good to see you, May."

"And you, too, Peter. I see your doing an excellent job raising your little one. He looks just like you did when you were his age. Oh, I'm sure he's just the handful, too," luckily, May's oblivious to your strange behavior as well as the praying Peter is doing in his head as he watches her run a hand through Ben's fluffy hair, both of you begging it not to stick. For the first time that night, fate is on your side with May successfully removing her hand from Ben.

The three of you share a short conversation, Peter never faltering his grip on you. Despite May's various offers of help, he finally manages to convince her to wait in the living room while the two of you worry over dinner. With a relieved sigh once she exits, Peter turns to you only to be horrified by the look on your face as Ben tugs on a rather thick handful of your hair, the expression you’re giving your husband already saying it all.

You can hear May and your parents talking lively in the living room, unaware to the snipping of scissors as Peter cuts your hair from Ben's grip. Although he tries to cut the least amount of hair as possible, you know by his grimace afterwards that it's noticeable. He switches the scissors for Ben, taking him into the living room while you disappear into the bathroom to get a hair tie, putting your hair into a messy ponytail to hide the evidence.

From there on, it feels like you’re looking into the room every few seconds as you do the finishing touches to dinner. You know Peter's just as worried by the various glances he sends towards the kitchen whenever no one's looking at him. He makes every excuse in the book as to why no one can hold Ben while keeping him directly on his lap and far away from any other objects.

It's as if you can read each other's minds, knowing exactly what is at risk if anyone sees your baby's tight grip. While they may not link it back to Spiderman directly, you'd eventually have to admit it just to keep them from ushering you to the doctors for your child's strange 'disease'. Believe it or not, but neither of you really want to have that long conversation explaining to everyone that Peter's not only Spiderman, but that his warped DNA has unexpectedly managed to passed down to the next generation.

Even when dinner's ready, Peter doesn't move Ben far from himself. You make your husband a plate, pressing a kiss against his cheek and ignoring Ben's grabby hands as you pass by. As much as it kills you inside to hear Ben's cries for attention, you let Peter convince him to sit with dada on the chair you had pulled up for them while mama sits with Auntie May on one couch, your parents together on the other.

"He sure loves his daddy, doesn't he?" Your mother comments. Fortunately, you're half away through dinner and no one's noticed anything off yet.

"Yeah, his dada's little boy. Aren't you, Lil' Ben?" Peter hums with a genuine smile while squeezing Ben's cubby hand. Afterwards, Peter's easily able to pull his own hand away from his son's adhesive skin. ‘Must be nice’, you think.

"You’re gonna have to drop him off with us sometime, you know. He needs to learn he can get spoiled at grandma and grandpas," your dad chuckles, leaning back in his chair with his empty plate balanced on his knee.

"It looks to me he's already pretty spoiled here," May jokes with a look of fondness while watching her nephew share his meal with his son one silly face and small fork full at a time. Ben’s admiration is clear by the way he stares up at his daddy with glittering eyes and a spaghetti-stained face, a look Peter shares (minus the stained face since May thankfully taught him long ago not to be messy when he eats).

"...Dada's boy for sure," you can't help but smile yourself with one look towards your husband and son. Yeah, Ben's powers are going to be a pain to deal with and it'll scare the life out of you if he ever decides he wants to fight crime like daddy, but nothing could ever make you love your son any less. For the time being, you’ll just have to find a way to control his powers. Sure, your family is going to be disappointed when you don't let them hold Lil' Ben tonight, but it isn't as if he's going anywhere. Once your husband and you figure everything out, you'll be able to invite them over for a much better dinner-

"-D..da..dada," your eyes go wide as do everyone else's when hearing the tiny yet clear voice, all eyes turning to the source, however, when you do, you're surprised to notice that Ben isn't looking at Peter. Instead, his head is facing forward with his cubby hand reaching towards the muted TV screen or, more specifically, towards the picture of Spiderman that's showing on the news.

It takes every ounce of will power for Peter not to immediately burst with joy, agreeing with Ben in front of everyone and encouraging him that it is, in fact, dada on screen. Instead, he must suffer with that bubble of happiness in silence the same way you do as your eyes dart between your husband's face to your baby's.

"I guess Spiderman sure made quite the impression on the little bug," your mother reckons in awe.

"Was that his first word?" May asks in surprise and you nod wordlessly, Peter being too busy holding a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt at blocking his giddy laughter. He has to force himself not to shake you while gushing about over Ben saying ‘dada’.

"Damn, not even to his own dad?" Your mother elbows your father for his remark, hissing at him to be quiet.

"We shouldn't be too upset, I guess. Spiderman's a great guy, after all; someone good Ben can look up to, right Peter?" You smirk, placing a hand over his free one while his other is still preoccupied hiding the massive grin over his face that would look far too strange on the face of a father who supposably just heard his son call someone else 'dada'. You can't blame him, though. Even you can't suppress the grin as you look you down at Ben," dada's right here, honey. Can you say it again? Dada?"

"Dada?" Peter finally speaks, tickling Ben's arm to gain his attention," dada. Da-da."

"Da...dada," Ben watches Peter's mouth, following the movements and sounds he heard. He smiles at the bright look his daddy gives him, repeating the word once more with both hands outstretched in attempts to grabbing his face," dada!"

"That's right, Ben! Dada!" Peter lifts him up, holding him in a standing position so that Ben could actually put his hands against his cheeks," dada...and that's mama. Can you say mama? Ma-ma. Ma-ma."

Ben looks to you, staring for a moment while babbling the sounds he's hearing before finally getting it right after quite a bit of practice," mama."

"Yes, I'm mama," laughing cheerfully, you run a hand through his fluffy hair, not even considering the possibly that it could've gotten stuck. You're too happy to worry over that.

Ben giggles, looking back to Peter and reaching across his face. Even with his sticky hands, Peter doesn't mind, pressing his forehead to his son's as they both laugh. Your mother and May gush about how cute they both are while your father sits back with a smile of his own. The joy everyone feels over witnessing Ben's first words is enough to distract your guests from your strange behavior throughout the night, eventually excusing your habits of not letting them hold the baby as the two of you must just be soaking up the moment with your son.

By the end of just three hours, your parents and May depart from the apartment but not without making you promise to bring Ben to visit them soon. Once everyone is out the door, you shut it with a tired sigh that turns to a gentle smile when you hear Ben's babbling behind you.

"Ma-Mama," turning around, you're greeted by your smiling husband and baby, the later reaching out to you with grabby hands.

"That was fun," Peter comments, brushing your hair back to press a kiss to your forehead as you take Ben from him, fully aware it'll be a fight to pry him away from yourself later. Looking from your child to your husband, you already expected the giant grin plastered on his lips,” Ben said his first words. He called me 'dada'!"

"Technically he called Spiderman 'dada' meaning you've got some competition for the role, Mr. Parker," you tap Ben's noise, smirking when Peter rolls his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him, but your smirk soon turns into a frown, a sigh escaping your lips again,"…what are we going do now? They may not have seen anything tonight but May wants us to visit next week and if any of them ever notice Ben sticking to stuff, they'll eventually realize why he called Spiderman 'dada."

"I know…May would be heartbroken if she found out you had an affair with Spiderman, but I guess no one can really blame you. Word on the street is he's pretty hot not to mention excellent in bed. How is a normal guy like me to compete?" Peter jokes, causing you to whine his name in halfhearted annoyance. He chuckles, moving to kiss your lips, although, he only gets a small peck before you move away with a pout.

"Peter, I'm being serious. I don't care so much about our family knowing, but if the wrong person finds out, what will happen?"

Now it's Peter's turn to sigh, his forehead resting against yours," then we make sure no one does...I've been through all of this before, I know what to expect. I'll teach Ben how to control his powers and, as he gets older, we'll make sure he understands that Spiderman and his dad need to be separate people."

When you lift your head, your lips slightly brush against his," and if he decides to fight crime while wearing bright spandexes?"

"I'll give him 'the talk'," he simpers, his hot breath blowing against your lips before he finally rids of the gap with the deep kiss he’s been waiting for all night.

"...Peter?" You break away, but the distance only lasts a second before Peter's lips are back on yours.

"Yes, dear?"

"Ben has my ponytail."

"...Shit."

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman #the amazing spider man #x reader #reader insert #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tobey maguire #mcu spiderman #tom holland #andrew garfield

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criminalmindzjunkie · 4 years

Text

Avoidance

masterlist

part two

Summary: Reader doesn’t know what she did to make Spencer hate her so much.

A/N: This fic is just a reminder that sub!Spencer lives rent free in my head at all times. Also, if anyone would like to be on a taglist for one shots like these, let me know! I’m going to work on getting one started.

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom! reader

Content Warnings: honestly way too much swearing, sexual harassment, slapping, hands free orgasm, oral sex (male and female receiving), hand job, orgasm denial, edging, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, degradation, femdom

Word Count: 8.2k

I have absolutely no idea what I’ve done to make Spencer Reid hate me.

Usually, when someone despises a person to the point of complete and total avoidance, there’s a reason. No one just wakes up and decides to resent another person for the hell of it – right? Wrong.

Because Spencer Reid positively loathes me – and I have no idea why.

It all started on my first day at the BAU. I had somehow landed the highly coveted job of media liaison after the previous one had decided to complete the training to be a profiler. For reasons unbeknownst to me, they thought a twenty-four-year-old fresh out of college with no prior job experience was the best fit for the position. I didn’t understand it, but I also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

To say that I had been terrified the first time I set foot into the bullpen would be the understatement of the century. After a very formal and very intimidating orientation with the unit chief, my predecessor, a beautiful blonde named Jennifer, offered herself up to be my personal tour guide. Jennifer introduced me to the other members of the team, and with every smiling face I came in contact with, my fears of being the odd man out were assuaged. I could tell that Penelope Garcia, tech analyst extraordinaire, would most likely be my biggest ally – and it was abundantly clear that Derek Morgan and I would probably get into a fair amount of mischief together. Elle Greenaway seemed like the obvious choice for a future drinking buddy, and Jason Gideon – well, he merely grunted at me in acknowledgment before retreating back to his office. I figured three out of four wasn’t so bad.

I didn’t meet Doctor Spencer Reid until after lunch. Jennifer mentioned something about him guest lecturing at a local university, which surprised me considering she mentioned him being a year younger than me. Apparently, the kid was an actual genius, which was more than a little bit intimidating, but Jennifer assured me that Spencer was a sweetheart.

“He’s a little quirky, but I’m sure you’ll love him. Just don’t be surprised if he tries to talk your ear off,” Jennifer laughs. “Last week I asked him about the weather and he went off on a tangent about climate change that lasted nearly an hour.”

By the time Spencer strolled into the bullpen at exactly one in the evening, I was sitting perched atop Jennifer’s desk, thoroughly engrossed as she told me about their latest case. When she stops talking midsentence in favor of smiling at someone behind me, I half expect that Morgan is attempting to sneak up on me, when:

“Hey, look who’s back,” Jennifer greets, prompting me to turn around excitedly. I was eager to put a face to the man I’d heard so much about.

And when I turn, my eyes land on the prettiest man I’ve ever seen.

Sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jawline are framed by shaggy brown hair, complete with beautiful brown eyes and soft, pillowy lips. As if his good looks weren’t enough, he’s dressed in the most adorably nerdy sweater vest and a pair of thin framed glasses. He’s absolutely precious – a fact that Jennifer had conveniently left out.

“How was the lecture?” Jennifer asks him as he places his satchel on the desk adjacent to hers. Spencer perks up at this, smiling excitedly from across the divider.

“I think it went really good, actually. I incorporated this really cool joke that I heard about quantum physics. Do you want to-”

He stops abruptly when he realizes Jennifer isn’t his only spectator, and those lovely brown eyes go almost comically wide when they settle on me.

“Spencer, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s the new media liaison. Y/N, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.”

I give him my best smile, tacking on a small wave for good measure.

“It’s nice to meet you, Doctor Reid. Jennifer’s told me a lot about you.”

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s n-nice to meet you, too,” Spencer stutters. He looks positively stricken and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t blinked in over a minute. I cast a glance at Jennifer, who seems just as confused as I am.

Well, she had mentioned that he was a tad strange.

“I’d like to hear the joke,” I offer, only to immediately regret it when I see him tense up.

“N-No, that’s o-okay,” he chokes out as he struggles to gather the files on his desk. “It’s n-not that good, anyways.”

And just as quickly as he came, Spencer leaves in a flurry of crumpled papers, leaving Jennifer and I wondering what the fuck just happened.

Things didn’t get better with time. In fact, they got much worse.

In the six months that I had been working for the BAU, I could count my interactions with Spencer Reid on one hand. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part – in my desperation to figure out what I’d done to make him avoid me, I sought out the young genius every chance I got. But every time I got within ten feet of him, it’s like an alarm would sound in his head and he’d make up some excuse to leave the room.

The others had noticed his strange behavior, too. It seemed they all had made a sort of game out of it – calling Spencer into rooms that I was in just to see him panic, or asking me to personally deliver files to his desk. At first, I played into it, hoping that their teasing would help to diffuse some of the tension.

After a month of being on the receiving end of Spencer’s cold shoulder, I started avoiding him, too.

I tried to act indifferent – like it didn’t hurt me as badly as it did. I no longer sought him out, and by month two, we had a sort of understanding. I didn’t go near him, and he didn’t go near me, and that’s how it went on for four miserable months.

Until today.

“Reid, Y/L/N, you’re in 202.”

I damn near drop my bag on the floor. This was bound to happen at some point or another, but I hadn’t planned on that day being today, and I was not prepared. After nine hours of running around the local police department, my body was weighed down from fatigue and I was downright grumpy. Not to mention I had picked the worst possible day to try and break in a new pair of heels, and my feet were throbbing.

Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with Spencer Reid’s bullshit.

“Uh, Hotch? Could I maybe room with Elle?” I ask, sending a glare in Morgan’s direction when he snorts out a laugh. Hotch raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Yes, sir, there certainly is. And your guess is as good as mine as to what that problem is.

“No, but I just think that-”

“Good. Then you should be fine to share a room with him.”

Right.

I spare a brief glance at Spencer, who, in the last thirty seconds, has turned the color of a tomato. I pray that he’ll speak up and voice his discomfort, but just like always, he stays silent.

Hotch doles out the room keys and I begin the trek down the hallway, my poor aching feet groaning in protest with every step. I’m vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps behind me, and it’s not until I swipe the key into the key card that Spencer speaks.

But not to me – no, never to me.

“Derek, please, I’m begging you. Just switch with me this one time, and – and I’ll do your reports for a month!”

After six months of dealing with Spencer’s aversion to me, his words should come as no surprise. And really, I’d expected as much - but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Not happening, kid. This is the perfect opportunity for you to get over whatever problem you have with Y/N. I bet you’ll even end up liking her. She’s not going to be rude to you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“… T-That’s not what I’m worried abo-”

I don’t wait around to hear the rest of his sentence. I push open the door to the room, not bothering to wait for Spencer before closing it. I kick off my heels as soon as the door clicks shut, letting out a half relieved, half frustrated groan.

After claiming the bed nearest the air conditioner as my own, I pluck my pajamas and toiletry bag out from my suitcase and shuffle over to the bathroom. The way I see it, the quicker I get a shower and can go to sleep, the faster the night will pass. Before I know it, this unfortunate situation will be a thing of the past.

After drawing out the shower for as long as I possibly could, I exit the bathroom clad in a tank top and a pair of shorts, hair dripping wet and skin freshly scrubbed clean. Spencer’s sitting on his bed, book in hand and tie loosened. He doesn’t look up at me when I walk by - not that I’d expected him to. A thick silence hangs in the air as I pull a bottle of lotion out from my suitcase, and I debate turning on the TV just to make things slightly less awkward. In the end I decide against it, because I doubt even that could make this situation better.

I prop a leg up on the bed and begin to lather my legs in cherry scented lotion, paying special care to my aching feet before moving on. It’s not until both of my legs have been thoroughly massaged and coated in lotion that I look up.

Spencer’s eyes are locked on me, mouth hanging open and chest heaving up and down. His knuckles are white from how hard they’re clutching the book in his hands, but despite that I can still see the way they’re trembling. When he realizes I've caught him staring, he closes his mouth and gulps hard.

I straighten up and raise an eyebrow in a silent question, and that’s enough for Spencer to snap his book shut and scramble off of the bed. He’s clumsy as he moves to his suitcase, dropping his bottle of travel shampoo twice before he reaches the bathroom. If I wasn’t so off put by whatever the hell had just happened, I might have thought it cute.

As if the universe thought my current predicament wasn’t enough to deal with, the next morning I was dealt another shitty hand. This time, my distress came in the form of a young cop who couldn’t pick up on social cues to save his life. After an entire morning of dodging sleazy advances, I finally managed to shake him when his superior sent him out to go and actually do his fucking job.

Or so I thought.

I’m standing in the breakroom, pouring my fourth (or is it my fifth?) cup of coffee when I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall. I don’t know if I’ve developed a sixth sense about these things, or if I’m just particularly on edge today, but I know it’s the young officer before he can even cross the threshold.

And when he does, and he sees that he has me cornered, a saccharine smile stretches across his lips.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he drawls in an accent that could probably be attractive if he wasn’t so damn skeevy.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked,” I mutter, refusing to look in his direction as I stir my coffee.

“Pretty and feisty. Just how I like my women.”

“I am not your anything,” I seethe, and instead of backing off like any respectful human being would, he just chuckles and begins to saunter towards me.

“C’mon baby, you don’t have to be that way. You don’t have to act all professional with me.”

“Don’t call me that.” I look at him now, and the smug, self-righteous smile on his face makes my blood boil.

“You don’t like baby? That’s fine – I’m sure I can think of lots of other things to call you,” he murmurs. He’s closer now, so close that I can practically feel his breath against my neck.

“I’m going to tell you to stop one more time, and it would be in your best interest to listen,” I growl.

“Or what?” he taunts. “I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I jolt forward when a hand comes down hard on my ass, squeezing me harshly through the material of my skirt.

Oh, fuck no.

I’m whirling around faster than I ever thought possible, and then a harsh crack sounds throughout the room as my hand comes in contact with his face.

My hand stings from the contact, but the pain is welcome because he flies backwards, stumbling and grasping as his already reddening cheek.

“What the fuck?” he roars, eyes flashing with unbridled fury. I take several steps towards him, and to my utmost delight he nearly trips over himself in his hurry to put distance between us. I stop when his back hits the wall and I lean in until our faces are only inches apart.

“Listen here, you limp dick fuck,” I snarl. “I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of pathetic pieces of shit like you thinking they can put their hands on women. What’s your problem? Are you so fucking tactless that you can’t get anyone to fuck you?” I punctuate my question by jabbing my pointer finger into his chest and cocking my head to the side. “Are you so unappealing that the only way you can get your hands on a woman is to wait until she’s alone and try to corner her?

Or is it a power thing? You’ve got the gun and the badge so you think you’re entitled to just take what you want, don’t you? You think no one can stop you because you’re in a position of power. Well, I have some news for you – I outrank you, and you just assaulted a federal agent. I will not stop until I ruin your fucking career, and if you even think of trying to lie your way out of this, I’ll do a helluva lot fucking worse. After the week I’m having, I am just looking for an excuse to kick your fucking dick into the dirt. Do you understand?”

By the time I finish speaking, my chest is heaving up and down and my eyes are narrowed into slits. The officer is so angry that he’s shaking, hands balled up to fists at his sides. For a moment, I think he’ll try to hit me, but then his hard-exterior cracks and the anger gives way to fear.

“You – You can’t tell anyone about this,” he says, trying his best to sound menacing. But his voice wavers, and I can tell he’s losing his grip. “It’ll r-ruin my career.”

I raise my hand up to his cheek, placing my palm over the red imprint I had left on his skin. And then I flash him the sweetest goddamn smile that ever there was.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me.”

I give him a pat on the cheek before turning around and heading for the door, only to stop halfway when I see that I have an audience of one.

Spencer stands in the doorway, a coffee mug gripped tightly in one hand, mouth agape and eyes wide. He’s standing stock still, eyes darting in between the police officer and me. I let out an exasperated sigh because of-fucking-course it would be Spencer that would happen to walk in on whatever that just was.

“Close your mouth, Reid. That’s how you catch flies,” I deadpan, prompting Spencer to snap his mouth shut.

Without another word, I brush past him and leave the break room.

I suppose the universe had decided to finally give me a break, because that afternoon we were able to apprehend the unsub. But my good fortune only went so far, because Hotch announced that we would be leaving first thing in the morning – which meant another night alone with Spencer Reid.

He didn’t mention what he walked in on when the two of us arrived back at our room, and I didn’t expect him to. The two of us went about the motions of unwinding from the day in complete and utter silence, and by the time I emerge from the shower I decide that I’ve had enough.

“I’m gonna go stay with Elle and Derek,” I murmur as I zip up my suitcase and slip on my shoes.

“Oh. O-Okay.”

And that was that.

It’s about an hour later when my phone is on four percent that I realize I hadn’t remembered to bring my charger with me. I contemplate just letting it die, but the idea of sitting through a seven-hour jet ride tomorrow without it sounds excruciating. Then again, so does the idea of having to suffer through an interaction with Spencer.

The phone wins out in the end, and with Derek and Elle still snoring softly in their respective beds, I slip out of the room and into the hallway. With any luck, Spencer will be in a similar state and I’ll be able to sneak in and out without him waking up.

I think thank my lucky stars when I slowly crack open the door to Spencer’s room and see that the lights are off. I take special care to close the door as quietly as possible before tiptoeing across the carpeted floors, feeling my way around in the dark so that I don’t trip over anything.

I make it halfway across the room when I hear it – it’s quiet, and if the air conditioner had been on, I wouldn’t have even heard it at all. It’s faint, so faint that I wonder if I’d imagined it, but then that same sound breaks through the silence and I know it’s not a product of my imagination.

I hear the covers rustle, and then a low moan followed by the distinct sound of skin on skin. My blood runs cold as the moans grow louder and more frequent, rolling off Spencer’s lips in rapid succession. There’s heavy breathing and whimpering and holy fuck I just walked in on Spencer Reid masturbating.

Spencer cries out a particularly load moan, one that sounds so pornographic that it shoots straight to my core. It’s sexy and dirty and he sounds absolutely wrecked, and the part of my brain that is still capable of logical thinking is screaming get out! Get out, now!

I begin to slowly backtrack, moving at one tenth of the speed that I had coming in because the possibility of being caught is absolutely not an option. If Spencer hates me now, he’d really hate me if he found out I snuck into his room at night and heard… that.

I’m about five feet away from the door when:

“O-Oh my God, yes! Y/N, please - fuck!”

I think then that I certainly have to be dreaming, because there’s no way I’d just heard him correctly. There’s no way that Spencer – the same Spencer that scurried out of the room when I walked in – was moaning my name while he touched himself. Absolutely not.

But then it happens again and again and again – my name falling from his lips incessantly like some kind of debauched chant.

It feels like my skin is on fire – my mind a befuddled mess – and before my brain can tell me what a terrible idea it is, my feet are carrying me back into the room and I’m coming to a stop at the foot of Spencer’s bed.

Bathed in the glow of the moonlight shining through the window, Spencer looks ethereal. There’s a thin line of sweat beading on his forehead, and his usually meticulously slicked back hair is fanned out on the pillow like some sort of halo. His teeth are nestled into his bottom lip now, and all that can be heard are tiny whimpers as his hand slides up and down underneath the bed sheets. Spencer’s always beautiful, almost painfully so. But the way he looks now, shadows dancing across his face as he works himself to orgasm, is infinitely more breathtaking than words can express.

It doesn’t take long for Spencer to release his lip from beneath his teeth, and when he does my name is flying out of his mouth once more.

I take that as my invitation to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

Spencer’s entire body stills and his eyes fly open to reveal two dark pools full of sheer panic.

“I-I can explain,” he stammers, moving to clutch the comforter to his chest in an attempt to cover himself.

I let out a hum and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Please do. I’m very interested in hearing about just what you were picturing me doing.”

Spencer sucks in a harsh breath. I can practically see the wheels in his brain turning -desperately trying to concoct some kind of reasonable explanation.

“I-I… I don’t… I’m s-sorry,” he stutters, and it’s so adorable how he’s squirming underneath my gaze that I decide to help him out.

“Was I sucking you off? Or were you fucking me?” I wonder aloud. He tries to hide it, thinking the covers will mask the way that his hips buck up, but I definitely see it.

“I-I…”

“Which was it, Spencer? Was I taking you down my throat or were you fucking my pussy? Or maybe I was coming undone on your face – was that it?”

Spencer lets out a low groan, and if my patience hadn’t been running so fucking thin, I probably would’ve left it at that. But after the hell he’d put me through for the last six months, I feel like he deserved to squirm a little.

“Fucking answer me.”

“Y-You were, um… r-riding me. And you s-slapped m-me.”

Oh.

This just got a lot more interesting.

I raise an eyebrow at him and I can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps.

“So, you liked what you saw today, did you?”

Spencer nods so fervently that I have to bite down on my tongue to suppress a laugh.

“Words, baby. Use them.”

“I-I liked it. A lot.”

“Apparently so, seeing as you were moaning for it like a desperate little slut,” I breeze, my tone cool and indifferent. “Have you done this before, Doctor? Touched yourself to the thought of me, that is.”

“… Y-Yes. I’m s-sorry. I didn’t m-mean to. It just kind of happened one night, and once I started, I couldn’t s-stop.”

I reach out a hand and brush away the hair that had fallen into his face, tucking it back behind his ear before continuing.

“Why the cold shoulder, then? And here I thought you hated me,” I muse, before pausing and cocking my head to the side. “Do you hate me, Doctor?” I ask, and just when I thought he couldn’t look more guilty, he proves me wrong.

“No! I just… couldn’t be around you. I felt so b-bad. You were so nice, and I was using you to g-get off,” Spencer explains. “I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not after picturing you… like that.”

I let out a sigh. Knowing that Spencer didn’t actually hate me for the last six months was a relief. Knowing that Spencer was secretly rubbing one out to me was something else entirely. Whatever was I to do with this information?

“So, you want to fuck me, then?” I reiterate. “Why not tell me this sooner?”

“The probability of you responding positively to me telling you that I, uh, m-masturbate to you was very l-low. And after what I saw today, I think I was wise for keeping that from you,” Spencer says, the last part coming out in a rush. I can’t help but let out a low laugh.

“Yes, but the guy that was coming on to me today wasn’t someone I find attractive. He was pompous and crass and pushy - and you, Doctor Reid, are none of those things.”

“R-Really? You think I’m attractive?”

I hum.

“Very much so, Doctor. But I’m afraid you may have waited too long, and now I don’t feel as inclined to be nice,” I murmur, allowing my hand to trail down from his shoulder to his collar bones before lightly grazing his nipple with my thumb.

“O-Oh my… God,” Spencer whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as my fingers continue to dance across his skin.

“But then again, I don’t think you really want me to be nice to you. I think you want me to treat you like my little play thing.” I stop my hand just below his navel and I thumb across the light layer of hair that makes up his happy trail. “You want to be my dirty boy - don’t you, Doctor Reid?”

“P-Please,” Spencer chokes out, hips jerking up when I allow my thumb to graze a little lower.

“Please what?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan.

“Please, I-I want you to u-use me. However you want, just as l-long as you just do-don’t stop touching me,” he rambles. He’s shuddering underneath me, his breaths coming out in harsh pants as my hand wanders lower and lower until I abruptly pull away. “W-Why did you stop?”

“Because I don’t think you deserve to be touched just yet. You’ve got six months to make up to me, after all. I think I want you on your knees for me first,” I say, and from the way his eyes seem to dilate even further, I don’t think he has any objections. “Are you familiar with the color system?”

Spencer nods.

“Green for good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop now.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“I… I’ve never really, uh. Done t-this.”

Oh. Oh.

I withdraw my hand from its place on his leg and Spencer lets out a distressed whine. “No, please! Don’t go. I’m not a complete virgin, I promise. I got a h-hand job once,” he argues. “And I think I’ve done enough, uh, research, and I really want to try to make you cum. I want to be good for you. Please let me try.”

Spencer looks like he’s about two seconds away from crying, and I can feel my argument dying before it even leaves my mouth.

“Oh, baby, I know you’d be so good,” I coo, and just like that Spencer’s leaning towards me, desperate to have the contact. I indulge him, placing my hand on his cheek, and he relaxes into the touch. “Are you sure you want to do this with me? I’m not what anyone would call vanilla, and I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”

“I trust you. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” Spencer whispers, and he sounds so damn sincere that I feel my resolve crumbling.

“You’ll let me know if at any point you want to stop?”

“Yes. Absolutely!”

Enthusiastic little shit.

“Safe word?”

“Um… Tolstoy?”

I let out a snort.

“Alright, smarty pants. We’re going to start now, okay?”

“Yes, Miss,” Spencer pants out.

Fuck me running. He clearly has been doing his research.

“Get on your knees for me, baby. I wanna see just how eager to please you are,” I instruct as I stand up and shimmy out of my shorts. I discard my shirt, too, absentmindedly throwing it somewhere across the room. Spencer lets out a startled squeak when he sees that I’m now completely naked, aside from my underwear.

“Y-You’re so pretty,” Spencer breathes out. “Even better than I imagined.”

The sentiment tugs at my heart, really, it does, but I specifically requested that he get on his knees and he seems a lot more content to just sit and stare.

“On your knees,” I command, and Spencer jumps up almost comically fast.

“S-Sorry, Miss,” he apologizes as he lowers himself down. I seat myself on the edge of the bed and spread my legs for him.

“Don’t apologize, just do as I ask of you, okay baby?”

Spencer nods.

“C-Can I kiss you? Like on the lips first?” Spencer asks as he looks up at me with big doe eyes. It’s a beautiful thing, the image of Spencer Reid sitting in between my legs, cheeks flushed and chest rapidly rising and falling. I give Spencer a sweet smile and lean forward, and the excitement radiating off of him is practically palpable. He leans forward, too eager to wait for me to close the gap, and the action makes my chest swell in adoration.

Just as our lips are about to meet, I pause, and Spencer barely has the time to look confused before my palm connects with the side of his face. The moan it draws out of him is obscene and his hips jolt forward, desperate for some kind of friction. His dick rests painfully hard between his legs, flushed red with precum beading at the tip.

I waste no time in taking his chin in my hand and tilting his head upwards.

“Did I say you could kiss me?” I ask him, voice sugary sweet, contrasting starkly with my actions.

“N-No, Miss. I’m sorry,” Spencer pants out. His hand twitches at his side and I can see how desperately he wants to touch himself, but his desire to please keeps him still.

“Then the answer is no. Maybe if you can prove to me that you aren’t completely incompetent at eating pussy, I’ll consider it,” I allow a moment for my words to sink in. “Color?”

“Green. So fucking green,” Spencer whines.

“Good boy,” I praise him, and the effects of my words are instantaneous. Spencer rests his cheek against the skin of my thigh and then he’s nuzzling his face against me in a silent plea for permission. After a moment, his pleas become a lot less silent.

“Wanna be your good boy - please let me,” Spencer begs as his nose brushes against my skin. “I want to make you feel good. S’all I ever think about, since the first time I saw you.”

His words send a jolt of pleasure to my core and I reward his brazen honesty with a tender smile and a nod.

“Go ahead, baby. Let me see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

The words barely have time to leave my mouth before Spencer is reaching out and hooking a finger underneath the waistband of my panties. I raise up off the bed just enough for him to slide them down my legs, and before I even manage to settle back down onto the bed, Spencer literally dives in. He starts with one long lick, and by the time he reaches my clit he’s crying out lewd moans against me. The feel of the vibrations mixed with the feel of his mouth on me is maddening in the best possible way, and my eyelids threaten to flutter closed under the weight of my pleasure.

“Fuck, baby – you’re doing so good,” I sigh as I lift my hand up and card my fingers through his hair. “You look so pretty on your knees for me.”

Spencer’s movements stutter when he feels my hand tangle itself into his hair, and I let out a light chuckle. I grab hold of the roots and give an experimental tug. My actions cause his hips to jolt forward violently.

“O-Oh my…” Spencer keens, raising his glossy, lust filled eyes to mine. “H-Harder, please.”

I oblige, and Spencer lets out a particularly filthy groan before lapping at my pussy like a man possessed. His hands come to wrap around my thighs and he pulls me closer to him, causing me to let out a gasp when his nose nudges against my clit. The sound only spurs him on further – Spencer begins assaulting my clit, alternating between short, kitten licks and light sucking. The control I had so adamantly been asserting over him began to slip from my fingertips the longer he worked his mouth against me, and quiet, breathy moans started falling from my lips.

“Such a good boy, Spence,” I moan as I scratch my fingernails against his scalp. “You’re making me feel so good, baby. Love that dirty little mouth of yours.”

Spencer thrives on the praise – that much is made obvious by the way he whimpers and tightens his grip on my thighs. He’s completely submitted himself to the act of getting me off, only stopping long enough to cry out when my hands give a particularly harsh tug on his hair.

“Add a finger, baby,” I tell him, allowing my hand to drift down the side of his face, caressing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Spencer releases my thigh from his hold and tentatively raises a hand to my entrance, eyes raising to meet mine.

“You’ll tell me if I do something wrong?” he asks, and his concern is so endearing that I tilt his chin upwards and lean forward until my lips meet his.

Spencer gasps into the kiss, shocked, but it doesn’t take him long before his lips are moving against mine fervently. His lips are slick with my arousal, and I dart my tongue out just long enough to swipe it across his bottom lip.

“D’you like how I taste, baby?” I murmur against his lips, pulling back slightly when Spencer tries to bring his lips down against mine.

“S-So much,” he whispers, before letting out a frustrated groan when I tease him with the slightest brush of my lips before pulling away again. “P-Please, kiss me again.”

I bump my nose against his before I reach down and grab his hand in mine.

“Don’t be a greedy boy, Spencer. Greedy boys don’t get to cum,” I chastise him as I raise his hand up to my mouth. I trace my bottom lip with his pointer finger as Spencer watches on in rapt fascination, before taking the digit into my mouth and sucking. Spencer chokes out a pathetic cry and his hips hopelessly buck into the air as I swirl my tongue around the pad of his finger, taking special care to coat it with spit before releasing it from my mouth.

I guide his hand back down to my pussy, gasping when the tip of his finger brushes across my entrance.

“Just take it slow, baby. Start with one and move up to two once you get the hang of it.”

Spencer nods, eyes alternating between my face and my entrance as he slowly slides his finger in me.

“You’re so warm, oh my God,” Spencer breathes out, tentatively pulling out his finger before inserting it back in. I hum appreciatively as he begins to move faster, eyelids fluttering shut when he lowers his head and begins languidly licking my clit.

“Feels so nice, Spence. I fucking love your fingers. Knew that they’d feel like this. I can only imagine how good your cock will feel,” I ramble, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other tugging on his honey brown hair.

I groan as he inserts a second finger, reveling in the way he’s stretching me out.

“Curl your fingers when you – fuck! Just like that, baby. Gonna make me cum if you keep doing t-that.”

Spencer speeds up both the onslaught of his fingers and his mouth at my admission, tongue working figure eights on my clit while his fingers brush up against my g-spot. A familiar warmth starts to spread in my lower belly, and with every swipe of Spencer’s tongue against my clit, the coil in my stomach winds tighter and tighter until, finally:

“O-Oh, fuck, Spence!”

The coil snaps, sending jolts of pleasure straight through my core. I can feel the way my walls tighten around Spencer’s fingers as my orgasm rips through me, never stopping their ministrations in an attempt to help me ride out my high. Vibrations ripple across my clit when Spencer lets out a cry of his own before his movements halt completely as shudders wrack his body.

I know he didn’t just…

I allow myself a moment to recover before I lean forward and drag my eyes down Spencer’s slender frame – and sure enough, his tummy is covered in white ropes of cum and his now softening cock is hanging limply between his legs.

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly open when his shudders cease, and one look at my pissy expression is enough to send him into a fit.

“I-I didn’t mean to cum! I’m so sorry, Miss. It’s j-just that you looked so pretty when you came, and you taste so good! And you were pulling my hair, and you called me a good boy and I just couldn’t do it anymo-”

“Shut up,” I seethe, voice cold and laced with annoyance. Spencer’s mouth snaps shut and he gulps. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember saying that you were allowed to come. Am I mistaken?” “N-No, Miss.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” I hum. “Stand up.”

“B-But I want to make you cum again! Can I plea-”

“Shut the fuck up and stand up, Spencer.”

Spencer rushes to his feet, stumbling a bit when his legs begin to shake. He corrects himself, standing perfectly still in front of me with a shameful look on his face. I scoot back on the bed and fix him with a stony look.

“I want you to lay on your stomach across my lap. Can you do that, Doctor Reid, or are you too stupid to follow simple directions?”

Spencer adamantly shakes his head, scrambling to splay out across my bare thighs. Once he’s comfortable, I raise a palm to his bare ass cheek and smooth my hand across the skin.

“Color?”

“G-Green,” Spencer stutters out.

“Wonderful. Since you’ve decided to be a greedy little slut and cum before I gave you permission, I’m going to punish you. Do you remember your safe word, baby?”

“Tolstoy.”

“Good boy. I’m going to give you ten, and I want you to count them out for me. One for every month you held out on me, and four because you’re an insolent little whore who can’t do as he’s told. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. P-Please.”

A harsh smack sounds throughout the room, and Spencer lets out a whorish moan that’s bound to wake the people in the neighboring rooms. The pale skin of his ass transforms to red, and I rub my palm across it soothingly.

“O-One,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as he rocks his hips against my legs.

“You okay, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Miss. Please don’t stop. I deserve it. P-Punish me, please.”

My palm comes down across his ass four more times, and with each strike I watch Spencer fall apart right before my eyes. Tears are gliding down his flushed cheeks, and his cock is now painfully hard against my legs.

“Five more to go, baby. Keep counting for me, my pretty boy.”

By the time my hand comes down against his flesh for the final time, Spencer has devolved into a mess of pathetic whimpers. His cock is smearing precum across my thighs as he rocks against me, and his ass is covered in a litany of bright red marks. Incomprehensible pleas are falling from his lips, and his hands are tightly fisted in the sheets.

I lean forward and place a gentle kiss to each of his battered cheeks.

“T-Thank you, Miss. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“You’re welcome, baby. Can you go lay in the center of the bed for me?”

Spencer gives a feeble nod and crawls to the center of the bed, carefully laying himself down and letting out a low hiss when his ass came in contact with the mattress.

I let him rest against the sheets before I roll over and settle in between his legs.

Spencer’s cock, painfully hard and leaking precum, sits against his belly. Spencer watches as I trace lithe fingers up his thigh, his chest rising and falling quickly as I get closer to where he demands my attention.

A garbled groan rips from his throat when my hand grasps his cock, and I have to place my other hand on his hip and force him back down onto the bed when he tries to buck up.

“Stay still, baby,” I tut as I drag my fist up and down at an agonizingly slow pace.

“S-Sorry, M-Miss,” Spencer stutters. His brows are drawn together and his eyes are heavy lidded. “Need m-more, please.”

“Mm, I don’t think you need more. You just want more. Dumb little greedy baby,” I tease as my thumb swipes across his head.

“Oh… G-God, please!” Spencer mewls.

“Is what I’m giving you not good enough?”

“N-No, it’s just-”

I raise an eyebrow at him and halt my movements.

“No, it isn’t good enough?”

Spencer lets out a frustrated groan and his fists clench the sheets.

“P-Please, Miss! I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Just let me cum, please, I want it so bad!”

Thoroughly pleased by his shameless begging, I start moving my hand again.

“Let me know when you’re about to cum, baby.”

That moment comes when, not thirty seconds later, the muscles in Spencer’s abdomen start to spasm – telltale signs of an impending orgasm. Spencer is so lost in the way my hand is moving against his cock that he makes no move to warn me, and just as I see his eyes start to flutter shut, I withdraw my hand.

“W-Why did yo-”

“You didn’t tell me you were about to cum. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy, Spencer? You sure aren’t acting like someone who wants to cum.”

“S-Sorry, please, just… fuck!”

Spencer’s whole-body folds in on itself when my mouth wraps around the head of his cock. I swirl my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum that had gathered before I pull away.

“You’ve got such a pretty cock, baby. Can’t believe nobody’s had you in their mouth yet,” I murmur, pausing to drag my tongue along the veiny underside of his erection. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna know how much you like when I use my mouth on you.”

“Love it so much, oh God… Feels so warm and wet. Thank you so much, Miss. God, it feels perfect,” Spencer keens as I take him into my mouth again. Mumbled praises fall from his lips as I take him deeper, and the second my nose hits the soft skin of his belly, Spencer’s hand comes up and begins to tap incessantly on my shoulder.

“S-Stop! I-I’m close – Jesus Christ, I’m so fucking close and I really want to cum inside you, i-if that’s okay with you,” Spencer babbles, eyes wide and pleading. I smile up at him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum in my pussy?”

“H-Honestly, no, but I’m hoping you’ll let me anyways,” Spencer says, shooting me an adorably shy smile that has my heart doing somersaults in my chest. I let out a light laugh and shake my head, moving to straddle his lap.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Spence?” I murmur as I caress the side of his face with my hands. “This can stop right here, if you want it to.”

“Please, Miss. I want this. I want you,” Spencer reiterates, eyes shining and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Want you, too, baby. You can call me my name now, if you want,” I say as I place a gentle kiss on his lips. I move to pull away, but Spencer’s hand is quick to grasp the back of my neck and pull me back in.

While our lips move together, frenzied and desperate, I sneak a hand in between our bodies and grab Spencer’s cock. He gasps into my mouth as I drag his head in between my folds.

“I-I won’t last long,” Spencer chokes out, eyes trained on where I’m rubbing him against me. “I’ll try my b-best, but I’m sorry if I c-cum too fast.”

I sink down just enough that his head is the only thing inside me, watching as his face contorts beautifully as a result.

“Don’t worry about me, baby. Tonight’s all about you.”

With one last, chaste kiss to his lips, I slowly begin to lower myself down onto his length. The sound of our moans fill the room as Spencer clings desperately to me, hands finally finding purchase on my hips.

“Y/N, fuck, you feel so good,” Spencer whimpers as I begin to slowly rock against him. “I-I knew it would feel good, but oh my God. I-I can’t… I’m gonna cum, soon. M’so sorry.”

His admission prompts me to move faster, raising my hips until he’s almost completely out of me before I’m slamming back down.

“Spence, you feel so good. Such a good boy – my good boy.”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours! Only yours, please!” Spencer whines. I lean forward, and the change of angle is enough for both of us to cry out.

“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me, Spence?” I murmur into his ear, biting lightly against his earlobe. “I want you to cum in me, baby. Don’t you want to be my good boy?” I punctuate my words by lightly wrapping my hand around this throat and squeezing, and that’s all it takes for Spencer to completely fall apart underneath me.

“Y/N - fuck!”

Spencer’s grip on my hips tightens as he bucks up into me, painting the inside of my pussy with his cum as he yells out strangled exclamations of my name. He presses his face into my shoulder as I ride him through his orgasm, whispering quiet thank yous and pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin as the euphoria floods through his body.

I place a kiss to his forehead before I crawl off of him, having every intention of getting up and procuring a wet washrag. But Spencer reaches out to grip my arm, and his eyes look so sad that I stop in my tracks.

“C-Can you stay? Please?”

The insecurity in his voice tugs at my heart.

“Of course, I’m staying. Was just gonna get a wet washrag for us. M’not gonna leave you, Spence,” I murmur. Spencer visibly untenses, but his grip on my arm doesn’t lessen.

“Could you just stay here a little bit longer?”

“Sure thing, baby,” I say, prompting Spencer’s lips to pull up into a pleased smile. I crawl back into the bed and lay on my back, and Spencer instantly plasters himself to my side. He hums contentedly as he wraps his arms around me, and I let out a light laugh when I catch him stealing glances at me.

“What is it, baby?”

A rosy blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

After everything we just did, he still feels the need to ask permission to kiss me. What a sweet boy.

My answer comes in the form of me pressing my lips to his, and that’s how we stay until he pulls away.

“I have another question,” he says shyly.

“Lay it on me, baby.”

The blush on his cheeks gets significantly more pronounced.

“It’s just that, uh, you didn’t get to cum again. And I really want you to, because you took such good care of me,” Spencer pauses, and his fingertips lightly graze the inside of my thigh. “C-Could I please eat you out again?” Another pause, and he retracts his hand. “I-It’s okay if not. I understand if you just wanted this to be… a one-time thing. I guess I was just kind of hoping that it w-wouldn’t be. But that’s silly – you were just doing me a favor. I’m sorry I asked.”

Spencer cringes as he finishes speaking, not even giving me a chance to reply before he’s trying to pull away. I tighten my grip on his arm, and Spencer gives me a weary look.

“First of all, I don’t think I would ever say no to being eaten out – especially if you’re the one offering. Second, this is definitely not a one off. I have lots of plans for you, pretty boy,” I explain, and the relief that radiates off of Spencer is almost palpable.

“Thank God,” he sighs, and then he’s scooting down the bed and settling in between my legs.

And if the rest of the team notices the way Spencer starts following me around like a lost puppy - well, they’re all kind enough not to point it out.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #sub!spencer #dom!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #smut #dom/sub #sub spence

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obeymeluv · 3 years

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Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc.

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content.

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts:

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you.

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates).

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse.

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking).

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy.

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything.

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair.

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings.

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree.

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable.

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Levi x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphie x Reader #Belphegor x Reader

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