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mire1li · 9 months ago

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Reader as Alastor's Mother

My very silly gf (@yurislotusgarden) gave me hc ideas so i wrote them (with her help) This is fem!Reader! Part 2!, Part 3!

𓋼 You heard about the Hazbin Hotel and decided that you wanted a chance at redemption, which is how you ended up there. Alastor was out when you arrived so Charlie met you first.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Charlie! Would you like a tour of the hotel?! Please, come inside!” She essentially dragged you in and then finally calmed down.

She would drag you around the whole hotel, explaining things too fast for you to register. And then Alastor suddenly entered the hotel, looking proud and smug as ever. 𓋼 “Alastor?”

“Mother, Is that you? It’s been far too long!”

"Indeed, it has! Say, do you know your way around here?"

"I do! Why do you ask?"

"Well… this Charlie girl gave me a tour earlier but… she was simply too frantic with explaning everything so… I couldn't really catch on to what she said"

"Ah yes, classic Charlie."

And so, he showed you around properly, in a much calmer and more understandable fashion. You two ran into Charlie once or twice, but just told her you were 'walking around and meeting the residents and staff' as to not upset her.

You took turns telling stories during your tour, his being much more interesting than you'd expected! 𓋼 Charlie and Vaggie essentially had the exact same reaction to finding out you’re Alastor’s mother. Since one was out when the other found out, it made it much funnier.

“Hey Alastor, who is this?”

“Why, it’s my mother!” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer, in a side-hug, wearing the most sly grin any of them had ever seen.

“Oh, alright- hold on what?!” 𓋼 I could see Angel and Husk talking about you at the bar, nothing bad, of course.

“So who’s she?” Angel sat down on one of the seats

“Heard she’s Alastor’s mother” Husk turned to Angel and offered him a shot.

“His mother? Why’s she here?”

“Gee, I wonder why someone would come to the hotel all about redemption” 𓋼 “So, you’re down here then, Alastor. No surprise there.”

“Oh please, you flatter me, Mother.” 𓋼 From the day you two were reunited, he always came to you to tell you about any recent achievements of his.

Everyone was absolutely terrified when they found out about you being his mother for 2 main reasons:

1 If Alastor is as scary as he is, then imagine how much scarier his mother would be! But in truth, you’re an absolute sweetheart, which shocked everyone, causing them to be more cautious around you, in case it was all a lie. (It wasn’t)

2 Alastor is incredibly protective of you, even though he hasn’t explicitly said anything, everyone saw how he watched them when they spoke with you. Especially Angel. 𓋼 One time, it just so happened that Alastor was 'out on business' as he called it. During that time, Charlie's father, Lucifer Morningstar, came by to check on his daughter and the hotel.

He saw you, and his first words were "Hey there, are ya single by chance?~"

Charlie saw him flirting with you so she ran up to him and introduced you as Alastor's mother, in an attempt to scare him off from you since Lucifer and Alastor don't exactly get along… although, instead of deterring him, it just motivated him to continue.

"Dad! This is [Name]! Alastor's mother!"

"Oooh! His mother you say?~"

"Dad!"

You and him were just talking, Charlie trying to pull him away from you, when Alastor returned to the hotel. Oh, he was not happy.

"Lucifer, you sly motherfucker."

"I for sure will be one tonight!"

Let's just say… Lucifer didn't return to the hotel when Alastor was around, for a good while… 𓋼 Whenever you were bored, you would bake things for the other hazbin residents and staff. Everyone adored whatever you made! When you told everyone you would always bake when you were alive, no one was surprised.

Speaking of when you were alive and baking, one day young Alastor had walked in on you baking and got curious.

"Mother! What are you doing?"

"I'm baking, darling"

"Can I help you??"

"Alright, but be careful"

You allowed him to mix the batter and check the oven. 𓋼 He would always come help you whenever he knew you were baking, even as he grew older. And after death, he always recalled those memories, missing those times, so when he saw you in the kitchen of the hotel, he wondered what you were doing.

"Mother! What are you doing?" he asked, looking over your shoulder at the ingredients.

"I'm going to bake something for everyone, darling!"

"Oh? Can I… help you?"

He was a bit shy. Just a little bit.

At some point during your baking time, Angel entered the kitchen for something, only to see Alastor mixing some batter whilst you were preparing other ingredients.

"What the fuck Alastor? What the fuck's wrong with ya?"

"Nothing is wrong with me, I'm simply baking with my mother."

"What the fuck…"

And then Husk entered.

"What is happening?"

"Get this, Alastor is baking"

Husk laughed and took the opportunity to tease Alastor, because why wouldn't he?

"You've gone soft, Alastor!"

"Haha! Shut up."

"Alastor! Be nice to your friends!" you exclaimed and lightly whacked him over the head with a wooden spoon.

Angel and Husk snickered and ran out of the kitchen after that, clearly on their way to cause mischief. 𓋼 Everyone was gathered in the lobby doing their own thing, when Angel and Husk ran into the room, laughing about something.

"You guys won't believe it! Alastor got hit over the head with a wooden spoon! By his mother!" he exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention.

It only took you and Alastor another hour to finish what you were baking, so when you both entered the lobby with the cookies you baked, everyone turned their attention to you, and the gossiping and questions began.

"Oh, look! It seems the almighty radio demon wasn't completely defeated by that wooden spoon, after all!" Angel laughed

𓋼 After that whole fiasco, Angel started calling Alastor the "Spoon Demon", which Alastor didn't appreciate but he understood it was all in good fun so eventually he, though begrudgingly, embraced it. 𓋼 One day, you decided that you were bored, so you took a bunch of hair accessories with you to Alastor and started decorating his hair with pins, most of them being sparkly, and he didn't have the heart to say no… at some point he tried to take them off but he noticed that it made you sad, so for the entire day, he walked around the hotel with them in his hair, prompting Angel to call him "Sparkles" that day. And maybe a few more 'days' after that too…

𓋼 On certain days, Alastor would be incredibly clingy, always hugging you and never leaving your side. He never told you why but whenever it was one of these days, no one seemed to bother him. You assumed he was in a bad mood.

𓋼 Alastor asked you how you died during one of his 'clingy days', and when you told him that you died of old age, he seemed much happier that week. He even helped Charlie renovate some of the hotel for free!

𓋼 Naturally, Vaggie was suspicious of him when she noticed he was this happy

"What's got you in such a bubbly mood?"

"Oh, nothing~"

"uh huh…"

"What? Can I not have a good day?" 𓋼 Charlie announced that as a 'team building' activity they'd be having a sleepover, which Alastor opted to skip out on, however, you convinced him to go. The next day, the tips of his claws, where his nails would be, were painted all sorts of colours. You were also shown pictures of Alastor in full makeup… this was certainly the work of Charlie and Angel.

"Never again."

"Oh come on, you need to spend time with them!"

"Absolutely not, Mother."

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vivwritesfics · 8 months ago

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Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter Three

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

1.2K

Series Masterlist

The story broke on the day her first book was published. Carlos couldn't help but feel rather sick every time she looked at her phone.

But she remained blissfully unaware for the entire day. By the end of the day, after the story had been out for a number of hours, it felt too late. Carlos went to bed that night with guilt plaguing him. His touch was hesitant as she shuffled across the bed, towards him.

She would have liked to find out from Carlos. Not during her first book signing. It was the weekend after her book came out and, as much as Carlos wanted to be there, he was at a race.

He texted her before the race began, just before the start of the signing. The lights went green at the race track as the doors to the book store opened, and people holding copies of her book walked in.

Person after person walked up to her table. She signed the inside of the book with a polite smile and sent them on their way.

That was until a girl in a Ferrari shirt came walking up to her table. She took notice of it right away. "I can't believe you're here instead of watching the race," she said through a laugh as she took the book from the young ferrari fan.

"Oh em gee!" The ferrari fan cried. "You watch Formula One? What team do you support?"

She let out a small laugh as she signed the inside of the book. To A wonderful Tifosi. "Ferrari, of course," she said as she placed her signature on the page.

"Who is your favourite driver? If you don't mind me asking, that."

She shook her head. "That's more than fine. I'm actually a Carlos Sainz fan," she said and slid the book back across the table.

"Oh! I can't believe he's finally taken, though. It feels like he was single forever."

The world stilled around her. Her heartbeat sped up and she gripped her pen so tight it almost shattered in her hand. The Ferrari fan thanked her and took her book as she walked away from the table. Before anybody else could approach she called one of the bookstore employees Iver. "I need five minutes," she said as she stood up from her seat.

The employee placed a sign on the table and directed her towards the back of the bookstore. Through the doors and out into the alleyway was the employee smoking area.

As soon as she was outside, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She couldn't text Carlos, not while he was driving. Instead she took to her personal instagram, the one with thirty followers. Her feed was full of F1 posts. Ever since she met Carlos she began following the sport, filling her private social media with anything she could find.

One of the first posts was a picture of Carlos leaving a night club. She'd been there that night, but she hadn't danced with him, hadn't left with him. It was enough being close to him.

The woman beside him was a stranger, though, photoshopped into the picture. She knew for a fact that she hadn't been in the club that night, hadn't left with Carlos, who drove straight to their apartment, to meet her there and fuck her.

Rebecca Donaldson. It was a name she didn't recognise. A quick goggle search turned up very little information about the woman. The most she could find was articles wondering who 'Carlos Sainz's new flame' was.

But she wasn't Carlos's new flame. Carlos didn't have a new flame. He had her. He'd had her for an entire year now.

Wearing a brave face, she returned to the signing.

Normally, after the race she'd immediately be on her phone, texting Carlos. He couldn't remember the last time he checked his phone after a race and she hadn't texted him.

This time, she couldn't wait to text him after her signing. Congratulate him on a great race and tell him all about it. This was before the signing actually happened.

Carlos checked his phone after the race, ready to read texts from her. But there were gone. He had texts from friends, from family, but not from her.

Carlito 💕💕

Are you awake, cariño?

Read

Huh, that was odd. She looked at the message the moment he sent it, but she didn't reply. A horrible, awful feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

But Carlos wore a brave face. He pushed on with things, got on with it until he could get home to her.

He was quiet on the plane ride back. Those he was sharing the private jet with noticed, but they didn't say anything. Every time he checked his phone, they assumed he was messaging his new girlfriend. He really wasn't.

Carlos made his way straight home. He pushed his key into the door and twisted, pushing it open.

The house was quiet, eerily so. "Cariño? Are you there?" Carlos called.

Nothing.

Grabbing his bags, he started towards the bedroom. "Y/N?" Carlos called as he walked inside. But still, she wasn't there. Dropping his bags, Carlos started searching.

He found her in her office,tapping away at her computer. "Ah, there you are," he said as he walked towards her.

Carlos went to wrap his arms around her where she sat, but she stood. She stood up and walked away from him. "Cariño, is everything all right?"

Her jaw was set, hands crossed over her chest as she stared at him. "Carlos, I'm going to ask you this once. Are you cheating on me?"

Carlos felt the colour drain from his face. "Mi amor, no!" He cried as he rushed towards her. He went to cup her face between his hands, but she moved away.

"Who the fuck is Rebecca Donaldson?"

"Shit," he hissed. He'd fucked up, big time. "Cariño, please, you've got to listen to me," he said. "They threatened me with my seat! I haven't met her, I don't know her and I don't love her."

Tears sprang to her eyes and she sank down the wall. "What the fuck is going on, Carlos? I thought you loved me. I thought you were gonna..." she sniffed and wiped at her nose. "Do you not want to be with me? Is that it?"

This time, when Carlos approached her, she didn’t push him away. He took her hand and kissed her palm. "Ferrari fucked up," he whispered, still holding her hand. "They needed a PR distraction and they chose me. I don't know Rebecca Donaldson, I've never met her," he said. "I love you so much. I want nothing more than to show you off to the world."

She held his face and pulled him close, kissing him. But, when she pulled away, she stood. "Im going to stay with my mother for a bit," she said and walked out of the room to pack a bag.

Carlos couldn't move. His legs shook as he went to follow her. He felt sick to his stomach.

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beatrixstonehill2 · 9 months ago

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Vince walked around his town's annual Oktoberfest celebration, catching sight of someone he hadn't seen in years, his high school crush, Natalie. Only not quite how he remembered her. "Wow, Natalie! Get a load of you.... looking better than ever!"

"Oh my god, Vince! I'm soooo happy to see you! And thanks.... I'm getting that a lot." She giggled, giving her belly a few good slaps as she guzzled her beer, wiping her lips afterward.

"Damn, you're putting those things away, huh? I remember you used to be all straight-edge, education comes first. You were cute, but not a whole lot of fun."

"Gee, thanks. I know, I know, I was so stuck up. But that's all changed now, and for the record this is my fifth beer already! Which, mmmm, reminds me!" Natalie slightly spread her bare legs and feet, pissing without a hint of embarrassment. "Mmmmm, that feels so good! I hope you don't mind." She bit her lip, talking as she pissed shamelessly in front of everyone.

"Not at all, a girl your size probably can barely control it, I bet."

She shook her head, still going, taking a big sip of her beer. "Just barely. I'm such breeder now, I'm getting used to just pissing myself if I need to. My womb is gigantic most of the time, my poor bladder's crushed. All the beer I drink probably doesn't help either. Mmmmm...."

"I can't believe how much you've changed. Last I heard you were a big shot in going to University in the city, about to get your Bachelor's. I still remember you tutoring me in English and I felt like a moron talking to you. Everyone knew you were the smartest girl in class."

"Those were the days! Well, I did good in college but my family talked me into dropping out and giving up on my education."

"What? For real?"

Natalie slapped her belly so hard it made a loud smacking noise. "Uh-huh! You know my family are pretty traditional, Christian types..... Sooo, they asked to talk to me and basically said that they were being quiet about how they really felt. They were proud of who I was becoming, but deep down wanted me to return to my small-town roots. They told me they always hoped I'd be barefoot and pregnant, sleeping around town, popping out kids left and right with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. They talked about how they prayed I'd come to my senses and lead a normal girl's life like God wants, or whatever. They said I should be breeding and having tons of sex with all kinds of guys, satisfying the local men, not leaving one behind. I should always be pregnant, and basically make my whole life about pleasure, to embrace being dumb, and to stop embarrassing them by being this super smarty city girl in college."

"And just like that you gave it up to make them happy, become a dumb little breeding cow?"

"Yep! Pretty much.... And I've got to say, I'm way happier living a simple life like this. I have all the sex I want with whoever, drink all I want, smoke like a chimney, show off my massive belly full of kids to entice the locals into getting out a little pent up frustration on me! I do such a wonderful service to the community now. I really feel like I'm giving back every time these men fill me with their seed and pound away at my poor, swollen pussy...." She giggled, giving her belly another slap, finishing her beer. "Oh! All done.... better get another. You want one?"

"Sure, I guess."

"That's the spirit! While we wait in line how about you bend me over, hike up my skirt, and show me how big a crush you really have on me....."

"Damn, I should've come back home way sooner I guess...." He gave Natalie a playful spank, leading her to the waiting line at the makeshift tavern nearby, his cock already anticipating getting to finally fuck his first major crush, with some added weight, a much bigger ass, and a huge belly full of kids. He knew in the coming days they would need to do a lot more catching up, while she could still walk, that is.

#pregnant kink #huge pregnant belly #breeding k1nk #submisive and breedable #free use kink #pissing kink

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stormz369 · 27 days ago

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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 12

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: a tragic but necessary lack of Jason in this chapter, reader's friend calls her a bitch (affectionately), talks about insecurities wc: 2k

Chapter Selection

“Bitch, get out here already!” Stella called from her perch on my couch.

I chuckled softly, slowly entering the living room. It felt so strange to have such a fancy gown on in my dinky little apartment, but Stella had pulled the best friend card, so of course I had to show it to her! I did a little spin so she could see the full effect.

She gasped softly, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh my fucking god…”

“... What?”

“God, you look like a princess!” She squealed before pouting a bit. “It's downright criminal that you're not even going to ask them about letting me tag along! I want the princess treatment too!”

I chuckled, smoothing out the skirt. “I'm not going to ask favors of people I barely know, Stell!”

“So ask your boyfriend, you know him!”

“Next time. I don't want it to look like I'm using him for his family connections, or his money.”

She sighed; “I guess you have a point … hey, he's got brothers, any of them single? Maybe I could swing my own invite to this thing!”

“... You know what, I don't know if Dick is single or not. … Tim's got a boyfriend, so the only definitely single one is the fourteen years old.”

She sighed, throwing herself back on the armrest. “Lame… well, at least let me live vicariously through you; what are you gonna wear with it?”

“... Elaborate?”

She raised an eyebrow; “jewelry, shoes? Oh! Let me do your hair and makeup, pleeeaaaase let me do your hair and makeup for the gala!”

“... Jewelry; I don't know. Shoes; these black heels Stephanie helped me find - she said they're the most comfortable heels she's ever worn, I just have to wear them for a few hours at a time the week before. Hair and makeup; yes, you can be in charge.”

Stella beamed, clapping excitedly. “Ok! Go get changed, we're going shopping!”

“We- … I literally just put this on, now you want it off???”

“We have to get you some jewelry to go with your dress!” She grinned, shoving me toward the bedroom. “Unless you think he's going to get you something special? Should we leave your options open?”

“Oh god, he better not… Nah, he wouldn't. The only reason I let him buy the dress was because I couldn't afford to do it myself, he knows that.”

“... Girl, you are the only person I know who could be handed a golden opportunity to be a sugar baby and wouldn't take it. What is wrong with you? Do you like the diner that much?”

She helped me out of the dress, hanging it back up and zipping the garment bag around it while I found some casual clothes to wear. “Not particularly, but I do like my independence. I do like knowing that if something went wrong I would still be able to take care of myself. And I definitely like knowing that I'm not relying on a man I've known for less than a year to pay my rent.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Ok, but … what if you guys got married? Would you let him pay the rent then?”

“In that highly unlikely scenario? Sure, why not?” We kicked our shoes on and headed down toward the bus stop.

“What do you mean ‘unlikely’?”

“... He's who he is, and I'm who I am. … I love him, Stella. I think I probably would marry him if he asked, but honestly, … sometimes I still wonder when the other shoe is going to drop. I mean, come on; he is so hot-”

She groaned her approval; “indeed~”

“-and sweet, and clever, I just … what on earth does he see in me??” I sighed softly, fidgeting with the strap of my purse.

“Um, hello? Beautiful, smart, kind, generous, creative; gee, I wonder what he could possibly like about you!” She smacked the back of my head gently; “do I need to shout your many excellent qualities to the whole street? Cause I fucking will!”

I snickered, shoving her off of me. “Ok, ok! Yes, I have many good qualities. But still, we don't exactly make sense together; he's a Wayne, he could have anything and anyone he wants, and I'm-”

“What he wants.”

“-broke, the fact that we met at all makes no sense.”

“Yes, thank god for the weird pushy brothers, we must remember to include them in our prayers.” She rolled her eyes affectionately as the bus pulled up and we got on.

“He is built like Hercules-”

“And you're built like Aphrodite - thick thighs, soft squeezable curves, excellent tits.”

I snorted; “you show me the Aphrodite statue with a tummy like this, please. Stella, be real. I know I'm pretty - I'm not questioning that. I know Jason doesn't think there's anything wrong with my body, and I don't dislike my body myself. It's just … I also know what the women who are typically at these events look like. I've heard the comments my whole life, I know what people think of bigger girls, and … at a certain point it gets disheartening … I don't want to look out of place next to him.”

She pinched my cheeks between her hands, staring into my eyes. “Now you listen here; you are not allowed to be this defeatist about my best friend and her hunky boyfriend's future. Got that? Yeah, you're in totally different tax brackets, now. But you can't forget, he's the Wayne boy that got lifted out of Crime Alley. He didn't look like he belonged there at first either. Hell, maybe that's one of the things he likes about you; you're kind, and practical, and you don't care about his status.

At this point he's probably used to girls tripping over themselves to say, be, and do whatever he wants because he's a Wayne, not because they like him. We have established that this is not some convoluted college boy prank. He likes you. He's been devoted to you for months; I know because I have barely seen you - you’re always together. He wants to show you off in front of all those one-percenters at that gala. You are what he wants. Sit back and enjoy the ride, girl; stop looking for car crashes!”

Stella gave me a firm look as she released my face, and I slowly nodded; “... You feel better?”

“Much.” She grinned; “you?”

“Much.” She nodded happily and hugged me. I leaned against her, looking out the window for our stop.

Stella pulled me along to store after store, insisting I needed the proper undergarments for a gown like that, then that I should have a new perfume - “not a bath and body works body spray, a proper perfume” for special events -, then since we were already there she wanted to pick the perfect nude lip color for me. Finally, we ended up at the jewelry store.

“Are you thinking gold or silver?” She peered into the display case.

“I don't know … maybe gold? … Nothing too expensive obviously… maybe a ruby pendant, to match the dress?”

The store clerk ignored us while we looked through the options, busying herself with something at the register. I was looking at a necklace with a gold chain and a teardrop shaped ruby pendant when she hurried over behind the counter. “Hello, Mr. Drake-Wayne! Is there anything I can help you with?”

Stella and I jumped a bit, turning to look behind us. And there was Tim, and Duke. Duke had his usual smile ready for us, but Tim simply raised an eyebrow at the associate. “... These ladies were here first.”

Her smile fell just a bit. “O- oh, of course. Um, … ladies?”

“... We're fine for now, thanks. … Hi Tim.” I chuckled softly; “have you upgraded from running background checks to actual stalking?”

Duke laughed, elbowing me playfully, and Tim groaned softly. “I'm sorry, ok?”

“I know, and I forgive you. You had to protect your family, there's nothing wrong with that. But I now have the right to tease you about it forever.”

Stella elbowed me firmly, wide eyed. “Ow! … Tim, Duke, this is Stella, Stella - Duke, and Tim.”

She grinned, holding out her hand for Duke to shake. “Hi! Wow, I can't believe I'm finally meeting a few of you!”

I chuckled softly. “Yeah, so what are you guys doing here?”

“Just hanging out, but we saw you over here and figured we should make sure you aren't looking at anything for the gala?”

“... Yeah, why?” I raised an eyebrow.

Duke grinned, shaking his head; “then stop.”

“... Jason knows I don't like him spending a bunch of money on me, and he already bought my dress…”

“Girl, get over it. It's a gala, let him get you nice things!” Stella grinned.

Tim tilted his head, frowning; “why don't you want him to spend money on you?”

“... I don't know how to explain this to you Tim. Just, … suffice it to say, Jason knows I don't want him doing that. So why should I not be looking at jewelry?”

The boys looked at each other, having some kind of silent conversation, before back to me; “... Look, just trust us? … We'll help you pick some earrings!”

Duke grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the necklaces. I followed, frowning a bit; “... Alright, but only because I trust Jay…”

Tim nodded, clearly relieved, and the boys started looking through the earring options. Stella followed along, offering her opinions as well. Finally, they had it down to a pair of earrings they insisted was perfect. Only problem was they were $500.

“Jesus Christ, Tim, what's with the bougie taste?” I sighed, setting them back down.

“What? They're perfect!”

“That's like … half my rent, rich boy!”

“... Ok, so I'll get them for you.”

“... Tim, if I don't want Jason spending this kind of money on me, what makes you think it's ok for you to?”

He shrugged; “cause I'm not going to sleep with you after?”

Duke smacked him, wide eyed; “um, dude???”

Stella blinked, not sure what to make of this, and I fixed Tim with my best ‘are you fucking serious?’ look.

“... Is the problem with Jay spending money not that it would make you feel bought and paid for?” Tim frowned, looking me over. “Huh, I'm not usually wrong ... Ok, sorry then. … I really don't understand though, what's the issue if not that?”

“... If I let him buy me too much too quickly it will start turning into a situation where I need him. If he's getting me expensive gifts, and paying my rent, and buying my groceries, how is he supposed to know that any steps we take in our relationship are because we want to take them, and not because I feel like I owe him for funding my lifestyle?”

A glimmer of understanding filled Tim's eyes, and he nodded slowly, a little grin on his face. “Ohhh, you're good. … Figure out what you want to do with your life, a brain like yours is too valuable to be wasted.”

I chuckled softly, nodding once. “I'll get right on that.”

Tim nodded. “Ok, so … let me get the earrings. Cause if I get them, we can say we're even for the whole stalking and background check thing.”

I thought for a moment. I liked having the upper hand on him, it was funny watching him squirm, but I also really did like the earrings, and they would look incredible with the dress. Plus, I wanted to look like I belonged at the gala, and these earrings would help me do that. “... Hmm … Deal. You'll buy the earrings, and I'll stop teasing you with the background check.”

He grinned and nodded, turning back to the counter and the store associate. “Alright, the lady will take these, and those matching hair pins.” He pointed to a set for $300.

“Wha- Tim???” I stared at him.

He smiled brightly; “those are my gift to you. You've been a good sport about a lot of weird shit, and … I haven't seen Jason this happy in a long time.”

“... You're not allowed to get me a Christmas present.”

He shrugged, smiling. “Ah, but you will be around for Christmas? Good.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa

#fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #jason todd #dc #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #first person pov #wayne family adventures #tim drake #no y/n #multichapter fic

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crypticreid · 1 year ago

Text

KINKTOBER DAY FOUR

October 13 -- Virginity

masterlist

author's note: happy friday the 13th!! this is a behemoth, but it feels right to celebrate this day with a little bit of fireworks lol!! thank you to everyone who voted in the poll, I might do more of those throughout the month. thank you for reading and let me know if you want to be tagged! (also, because this took me so long, it isn't as tightly edited as my other work)

summary: To be completely honest, you're struggling a little bit with you new job at the BAU. Spencer is there to help. Oh, and maybe he can help you with a few other things too.

warnings: female reader, losing virginity, fingering, oral (female receiving), grinding, discussion about masturbation and mention of sex toys

word count: 6.9k (sorry? lol)

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

Morgan smiles up at you from his desk as you scramble into the bullpen. Garcia is leaning against his desk as she raises her eyebrows. You toss your go bag under your own desk and push your hair out of your face, trying to ignore the pair.

“Rough night?” Morgan giggles, as he pushes the pencil he’s holding through his circled fingers suggestively. Garcia guffaws, but at least has the decency to playfully hit Morgan on the shoulder.

“Can you two behave for like five minutes?” You groan and try to find your ID badge. You literally just had it to get into the BAU department, but now it has mysteriously disappeared. It isn’t on your desk or in any of your pockets, but you do find a couple crumpled up dollar bills that you toss onto your desk without thinking.

The appearance of the bills causes Morgan to whistle. Emily walks over and sees the offending currency. “Damn, invite me next time!” She laughs.

You roll your eyes and don’t reply. Instead, you pull up your go bag and start to empty it. Maybe you accidentally put your badge in one of the pockets, you rationalize.

“What is going on?” JJ asks with a small laugh, gesturing to the contents of your go bag now completely strewn across the desk. Clothing and toiletries clutter the surface and you know you look like a crazy person. And maybe you are crazy. No, you definitely are crazy. Anyone who does this job is absolutely batshit crazy.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. You are absolutely not going to have a mental breakdown at eight in the morning in the bullpen, and definitely not in front of fucking Derek Morgan. “I can’t find my badge.” You mutter and drop down to your knees to look under your chair and desk.

You palm the dirty floor, but don’t find anything. Your friends stifle their laughter. “I would help you but this is not a crawl around on the floor kind of dress.” Penelope offers.

“Gee, thanks.” You say to yourself.

“Hey, has anyone seen –” Spencer stops in both his tracks and his sentence when he notices you on the floor. He swallows. “I found your ID badge. Over by the door. I think you dropped it.”

“Wonder boy saves the day!” Morgan exclaims.

Spencer finishes his trek over to you and offers a hand to help you up. You glance up at him, blushing slightly at the angle. Who would’ve thought you’d be on your knees in front of Dr. Reid? Okay, you’ve definitely thought about it, but your imagination didn’t normally make it happen inside Quantico and it absolutely never in front of your coworkers.

“Sorry, my hands are kind of dirty. Uh, from the floor.” You confess and take his hand as you stand up. His hand is warm and soft, like really soft. Like you could easily fall asleep to him rubbing your back in mindless patterns. As soon as you’re on your feet you slip your hand out of his to avoid your mind adding more ammunition to your middle of the night imaginations about Spencer.

“It’s okay.”

“Thanks. For the badge… and –” you take the badge from his other hand and gesture meaninglessly between the two of you.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself redden deeper.

“Alright, alright! Time for kiss and tell!” Penelope exclaims and you blink away from your eye contact with Reid.

“What?” You whip your head around to her.

Emily makes kissing noises and musses her hair. “You. And some mystery person. Last night. Clearly.”

You turn toward her. “No. I wasn’t…” you start, your eyes flick over to Spencer as he walks toward his desk. “There’s no one.”

JJ leans on your desk and raises her brows. “Then what were you doing last night?”

You could not tell them the truth, but it was also impossible to lie to the best profilers in the country, so you give them a half truth. “Nothing. I just had a bad night.” You shrug and start to put your clothing back in your go bag, not bothering to fold it.

The truth is that it had been a bad night because you were struggling with the job. You’d been hired ten months ago and the lack of sleep, the neverending cases, and having to constantly deal with the horrific things humans can do to one another was taking its toll on you. Yesterday had been a day off and you wanted to use it to catch up on sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, the faces of the people you couldn’t save filtered in. You hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since you started and it had caused a complete breakdown last night. You had pulled up Hotch’s contact information four times ready to quit, but you knew you couldn’t do it. You were here for a reason, you’d stick it out.

Penelope hums. “Well, if it wasn’t a person… then it must’ve been alcohol.”

“Or gambling.” Emily adds.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t gamble.”

“You should. It’s a lot of fun. I’ll play you in Blackjack.” Emily smiles.

“Don’t play with her, she counts cards.” Reid murmurs absentmindedly as he reads over a file at his desk.

“I do not!”

Everyone laughs, but then the laughter dies away when Hotch comes out of his office. “Looks like no one gets to have fun for a couple of days.” Emily groans.

On the flight home after the case, you’re seated across from Spencer. Everyone else is asleep or has headphones in, even Hotch is passed out on the couch, which is rare. You still can’t sleep, so you stare out the window into the darkness as you fly over Virgina. Spencer clears his throat and you roll your head to look at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You allow a small smile to form on your lips. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He swallows and puts the book in his hand down in his lap as he leans forward slightly. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but you don’t really seem like yourself lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The sore achy feeling of wanting to cry but holding it in burns your throat. You cough softly. “I’m okay, really. Just – having trouble sleeping.” You give just a little bit of information, hoping it assuages his curiosity.

“Is it that mystery person keeping you up at night?” He asks point-blankly.

Your mouth is agape and you snap it shut, “did you just make a joke?”

“I tried to.” He smiles and you match his smile with your own.

“There really isn’t anyone.” You shake your head. “I’ve never –” you almost let the rest of the sentence slip out, but stop yourself just in time. The lack of sleep is obviously affecting you more than you thought.

“You’ve never what?” The way he moves his body forward in his seat makes your heart thrum in your chest. His body language is clear, even a rookie behavioral analyst could tell, he was prepared to listen to what you have to say. Not only that, but he actually cared.

You bite the inside of your cheek before letting out a sigh. Before you answer, you lean closer toward him, “I’ve never had sex, actually.”

His eyes widen and he clears his throat, “you’re a –”

“Virgin,” you finish for him. “I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by it. And it isn’t like I’m saving it or anything. It just hasn’t happened yet.” You shrug. “In all honesty, part of me just wants to pick some random person and get it over with.” You let out a small breathy laugh in an attempt to make you feel less awkward.

“Why haven’t you?” You meet his eyes. “I mean, just found a random person to get it over with?”

One of your shoulders lifts in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Like when I think about it, I realize that I’d rather have someone I trust, you know. Someone who would take care of me and not just see me as another notch on their bedpost. At least for the first time. And then after that, I’d feel more comfortable just going out and… you know.”

“Notching up some bed posts.” He nods knowingly and you giggle. He smiles, you notice that he enjoys making you laugh. A lot of the time it seems like people are maybe laughing at him or about him, but not you. He’s never the butt of the joke for you.

“Sure, Spencer.” You can’t help, but trail your eyes over him and contemplate the question that’s on the tip of your tongue. “How did you lose your virginity?”

He doesn’t seem offended or shocked by your question. “In college.”

You scoff, “weren’t you like twelve?”

“During my undergrad, yes. But I have multiple PhDs.”

“Of course, Doctor Reid.”

He shifts in his seat. “I was twenty. She was, uh, we worked in the same lab. And had the same research advisor.”

“So you two experimented on each other.” You joked.

Spencer’s face flushed and you felt a pang deep in your stomach. “In a way, yes.”

“I’m joking, Spencer.” He nods in understanding. “Were you like her boyfriend?”

“No, we just –”

“Hooked up.” You finish for him.

“For a couple months, yeah.”

Your mouth drops and you whisper, “you had a fuck buddy?”

His blush deepens. “I don’t think we ever called each other that.”

“What did you call her?”

“I don’t know. We never talked about it. I finished my doctoral thesis before her.” He shrugs.

“Wow, who knew.”

“What?”

“Morgan isn’t the only playa on the team.” You giggle and scrunch your nose, feeling the stress of the last few weeks dissipate from your shoulders.

“I’m not…” he laughs and shakes his head. He glances out the window. “We’re landing soon.” He swallows and leans back in his seat. It was terrible, but you had a strong urge to step across to his seat and straddle his lap and kiss him until you were both breathless. You turn your gaze back to the window and try to force the image away.

Your car wouldn’t start. You forcefully turned the key in the ignition again, and it sputtered and died. As you hit your steering wheel, you let out a frustrated noise and hit it again. You turn to grab your cell phone from your bag to call a tow truck and jump when you hear a knock on your driver’s side window. Spencer stands there apologetically, waving his hand with his closed mouth smile.

He steps aside when you open the car door and get out. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” You laugh bitterly. “My car won’t start and I need to get a tow.” You bite your lip, but can’t stop the tears that bubble over.

Spencer freezes, but then reaches out and touches your shoulder lightly. “It’s okay.” For some reason his comfort makes you cry harder. “Oh, uh, here,” he mutters and pulls you into a full hug. He squeezes you tight against him and rubs your back as you cry into his chest.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” You blubber into his shirt.

“No, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” You pull away from his chest to look in his eyes. “I’m failing at this job and –”

“Woah, failing at this job?” He interrupts. “Who said that?” His brows furrow angrily.

“No one.” You blink away the tears stuck in your eyelashes and Spencer reaches up and swipes away one that trails down your cheek.

“You’re not failing. You’re excelling. You’re incredible. Truly, I mean that. I wouldn’t lie to you. I promise.” He swallows and you realize how close to his face you are, his hands wrapped around your back.

You don’t stop yourself, even though you know you should, as you lean into him. His eyes flutter down to your lips, but he doesn’t pull away, so you keep going. Your lips touch his lightly, barely there before you back away.

His hands tighten on you and pull you closer to him. He chases your lips with his and kisses you back, your own hands are on his chest and they twist into his shirt. You kiss him fervently, his hands traveling to your lower back, arching you into him. A moan escapes from the back of your throat and it breaks the spell. Spencer pulls away from the kiss.

His lips are pink and shimmery and you want to kiss him again. Desperately. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, his tongue slipping out and swiping across his bottom lip.

“What for?” You blink.

“Kissing you.”

“I kissed you.”

“I kissed you back.”

“And you should do it again.”

His eyes dart to your lips. He wants to, you can tell, but he stops himself. “We shouldn’t.”

“Not here, at least.” You glance behind him and pray that the parking garage is completely empty. If your coworkers acted the way they did this morning about a nonexistent mystery person, you can only imagine their reactions if they saw you making out with Spencer.

“It’s inappropriate.”

“I don’t care.”

“There’s paperwork.”

“Not if we don’t tell anyone.”

“That’s not how that works.” He laughs, you can feel the vibrations of the sound against his chest.

“Do you always play by the rules, Dr. Reid?”

He swallows harshly, you watch the movement of his Adam’s apple bob against the tight skin of his neck. “I’ll drive you home.” He deflects.

You reach up on your toes and kiss him again. His hands spread on your back and press you against him and your hands pull him tighter to you, wrinkling his shirt. You hear footsteps and both of you step away from each other instantly, putting distance between your bodies. You turn your head to see a person you don’t recognize come into view from the other side of the parking garage. They don’t even glance in your direction. The hammering in your chest slows and you turn back to Spencer. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Grab your bag.” He says with an authority that makes you spring into action quickly. Neither of you say anything as you follow him down the rows of agents’ cars to his car. He opens the passenger side for you, the vintage car creaks in protest. He closes the door and you watch from the rearview mirror as he walks around the back of the car toward the driver’s side, his hands in his pocket.

He slides into the car seat and starts the car, it rumbles to life loudly. “I normally don’t even drive to work, just take public transportation. But I had an errand the other day.” He explains absentmindedly as he checks the rearview mirror and slowly backs out of the park spot.

“It’s kismet.”

“I always thought it was interesting that the English pilfered that word from the Turkish language. Considering words like fate and destiny already existed. Some etymologists attribute it to the rampant orientalism at the time. You know, like kismet was more mysterious or mystical or exciting than just simple fate.” He rambles and drives you out of the parking garage. A heady want begins to grow in your lower stomach. “And of course, the Turkish developed the word from an Arabic word meaning portion or lot. Which is fascinating.”

“It is.” You say earnestly.

He glances over at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble.”

“Don’t apologize. I like it.”

His eyes are already back on the road, but you can see his cheeks redden in a slight blush. “Where do you live?” He asks and you tell him. It isn’t a long drive, well it isn’t this late at night. Your morning commute is a nightmare. He gives you a brief look, “why did you join the BAU?”

You exhale a long breath before you answer. “I wanted to help people I guess. Which is so cliche, but it’s the truth. Like it isn’t even about putting bad guys away or whatever. I just want to make the world safer. For everyone.” You look over at him and he meets your gaze for a split second.

“You are doing a good job.” He states. You shake your head. “I mean it. You are. You’re making a difference. You’re helping people.”

“But how do you keep your head above water? I mean… how do you not let it beat you down?”

“We have each other. And you focus on the good.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, letting his words sink in. “Thanks, Spencer. For everything today.”

He pulls into a parking spot in front of your apartment building. “I’ll walk you up.”

You go to unbuckle your seatbelt, but it doesn’t budge. You try again, but again, nothing.

“Oh, sometimes it sticks. Here,” he leans across the middle and reaches for your seatbelt buckle. His fingers graze the outside of your thigh and inhale sharply, electricity buzzing from the simplest of touches. He unbuckles you and you let the seat belt slide across your body, he doesn’t move away from you. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, it enflames you.

“Spencer,” you whisper and turn your head toward him. His eyes slowly trail down your face toward your lips and then back up to your eyes. You can’t take it, so you lean forward and kiss him again. Tentative at first, waiting for him to respond. He does, his hands pulling your face closer to his, deepening the kiss. When you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip you open for him, let him explore and learn. You sigh into his mouth, your hands find their way to the back of his neck.

He slips away from you, breathless, but starts to kiss down your jaw. He mutters your name against your skin. You feel the warmth of his kisses travel down your spine toward your core.

“Come upstairs.” You sigh, when he bites lightly on a sensitive spot on your neck.

“I can’t. I shouldn’t.” He pants against your skin.

“I want you.”

He groans, deep and frustrated, and moves to lean his forehead against yours, both of your heavy breathing intermingling and becoming one. “You shouldn’t want me.”

“Why not? And don’t say the bullshit about us working together. I don’t care, Spencer. I trust you. I want you.”

He backs his head away from your forehead so that he can look into your eyes, his thumb against your cheek brushes back and forth. “You trust me?”

“With everything in me.” He kisses you again, softly, tenderly.

“I’ll take care of you.”

“I know.” You kiss him back and then pull away. He nods and you return it with a nod of your own.

His tongue glides across his lip and he swallows. You blink and he’s moving out of his seat and already at the passenger side door before you can reach for the handle. He opens it quickly and helps you out. It’s old school, but it makes your heart stutter and start. When he takes your hand in his, it feels like two magnets being drawn together. He slams the car door shut and you lead him up to your apartment.

Once you unlock your front door and guide him in, you shut the door and turn to look at him. You flick on the light. He stares at you and asks, “you’re sure?”

“Positive.” You step toward him and reach out to slide your hands across his stomach and then land on his waist. “Do I have to kiss you first again, or –” you don’t have to finish your question before his lips are on yours. His kisses are not tentative or searching, they’re needy and impassioned. Before long, you’re clawing at his shirt, untucking it from his pants and then reaching up to undo his tie.

He stops you as he breathes laboriously. “Wait, we should slow down.”

You continue to work on his tie, perpetually crooked, but now just an obstacle to what you need desperately. “I don’t wanna go slow.”

He moans and you finally get his tie undone and whip it off. “No, we should.”

Your fingers work deftly against his buttons, one at a time, and you look up at him. “I’m a virgin, but I’m not inexperienced. I’m not a delicate flower.”

His expression changes, his eyes grow heavy and he quirks his jaw. “Not inexperienced?”

“I’m not.” You almost sound like a petulant teenager.

“How far?”

“What?”

“How far have you gotten?” Your hands stop almost halfway through the third to last button. You don’t answer. His voice deepens, gravely and sexy, “you’ve clearly kissed before.” You nod. “Have you had someone feel your breasts?” As he asks the question, his hand reaches up and caresses your breast. You lean into the touch. “Has anyone put their mouth on your breasts, marking you as theirs? Rolling your nipple between their teeth?” He inclines his head into the crook of your neck and presses a hot kiss there. “Have you ever had somebody's mouth on your clit?”

Your breathing is sharp and jagged, but Spencer simply continues. “Would you let someone use their tongue to make you come? Or maybe even their fingers? Pump their fingers into until you're squirming?”

“Spencer,” you plead.

He continues to massage your breast as his other hand slips under your shirt and trails across your hips and stomach. “Or do you just mean that you’ve touched yourself? You’ve laid in bed and explored this beautiful body. Know just exactly how to make yourself shiver from your own fingers.”

You’re almost overwhelmed by his touch, his lips on your skin, and his words, your head is spinning, but you’re also desperate for more.

“We’re going to take it slow.” He informs you and it isn’t up for discussion. “Not because I think you’re a delicate flower.” He throws your own words back at you. “But because I want to take my time with you. I want to learn everything about your body. I want to touch every single inch of you with my hands. I want to make you come, I want to feel you come. Over and over again.” You’re practically shaking in his hands when his lips and teeth scrap across your jaw and to your lips. He takes them with his and you’re like clay on a potter’s wheel, malleable and completely at his will, waiting to be crafted into his masterpiece.

“Do you want that?” He breathes on your lips.

You somehow know instinctively that he wants a verbal confirmation, so you answer, “yes.”

He continues to kiss you, deeply, almost like a starved man tasting his first bit of sustenance. You answer with your own fervency. His hand at your hip squeezes and pulls you tight against him and you feel his want against you. It makes you moan. You grind your body against him and his grip tights even more.

“Bedroom. Where’s your bedroom?” He stutters, but doesn’t stop kissing you and you don’t stop either. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and twisting, holding him impossibly close to you. You didn’t know kissing could make you feel this way, simultaneously feverish and desperate, but also insatiable. You felt like you could kiss Spencer for a lifetime and never tire of it. He wasn’t close enough even though your bodies were pressed together, you needed more. The only thought in your brain is simply, more, more, more.

He pulls away from you, both of you taking heaving breaths. His lips were perfectly pink, your body thrummed with the knowledge that you caused such a change in him.

“Bedroom.” The single word went straight to your core. You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

Once you turn on the light, he’s behind you, pressing into you. You can feel every part of him, and he kisses the back of your neck. He’s back to being soft and gentle. He brings his hands to your stomach and inches them under your shirt until he has your breasts in his hands.

Your breasts feel heavy and logically you know why. Blood has rushed to them, just as it has rushed to your other erogenous zones, and it is sending a signal to your brain to release oxytocin. But you’re realizing that logic has no place in your head when Spencer’s hands and mouth are on you. Logic means nothing to you at this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He compliments as he fondles your breasts, your head lolls back against his chest. He angles his head so he can kiss your cheek. “You distracted me that very first case you were on. Did you know that?”

“No,” your eyes flutter shut when he moves down to kiss your jaw.

“I thought you were so gorgeous. After the case, I went home to my apartment and touched myself as I imagined you. I felt so ashamed, I couldn’t even look you in the eyes the next morning.”

Your mind wanders back to all those months ago. “I thought I had done something wrong,” you remember.

“No, it was me. I was wrong. But I couldn’t stop. I mean you can feel what you do to me.” He was right, you could distinctly feel the effect you had on him.

“I thought of you too.” You confess.

“You did?” His voice is low and breathy and you nod. “In that bed.” He ticks his head to gesture toward it. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself heat with blush. His thumbs brush across your nipples through your bra and your breath gets caught in your throat. You swallow and answer. “I would lie there, normally because I couldn’t sleep. And then I’d think about you. Your hands, I’d think about your hands.”

“My hands?” He squeezes your breasts.

You nod and answer simultaneously, “yes. I’d imagine them on my body, touching me.” He brushes your nipples again and you shiver. “And I’d slip my hand into my underwear, and rub my clit. Pretend it was you.” His hands abandon your breasts and slide around to your back. You step forward as he takes off your shirt and then unhooks your bra and helps you out of it. His hands on your hips turn you to face him.

“I knew you were beautiful. But you’re perfect.” Your instinct is to feel self conscious under his gaze, but you push it away when you notice the admiration in his eyes.

You reach for him and finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt and then peeling it off of him. “Fair is fair.” You say. He laughs, but his laugh dies in his throat when your nails scratch down his chest.

Your hands explore his exposed chest and back, feeling the muscle move underneath soft skin, and he works to rid you of your pants. You use him for balance as you step out of your pants, but as soon as you're standing on two feet again, he backs you toward your bed.

When the back of your legs hit the bed, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. He leans over you, your legs open for him and he kisses you again. Your hands continue their previous tour of his back, now feeling how his shoulder blades move when he grinds against you.

The first time he does it, you throw your head back in a moan. Even though you have multiple layers of fabric between you, you can still feel the heat radiating through you. He does it again and you arch up to meet his movement. When he does it a third time your nails scratch down his back.

He makes a low noise from the back of his throat and you know that your panties are soaked. His lips take a journey down your body, kissing and nipping at your clavicle, your chest, spending a significant amount of time on both of your breasts, and down your stomach. Your clawing at his back by the time his mouth meets the band of your underwear.

“Look at you,” he whispers. His thumb rubs lightly at your clit over the fabric. Your thighs clench and he laughs. “Keep them open for me, baby.” You mewl at the pet name. “You like that? Being called baby?”

“Yes.” You groan out when his thumb repeats his earlier action.

He does it again, almost unbearably slow. “I want to taste you so bad. I’ve wanted to know how good you taste for so long.” His voice is strained.

“You can. I want you to.”

His hands skate up to the hem of your underwear and you lift your hips slightly as he pulls them down. You open your legs for him again and he swallows. “Stunning.” His mouth is on you before you have time to process the word.

Almost instantly, he moans against you, the vibrations causing your toes to curl. Your hands clench your duvet and he pulls away for a split second, “touch me.” You do what he asks, coiling your fingers into his hair. He laps at your clit, creating a pattern and rhythm that makes your buck up to meet him. His hands grip at your hips and hold you in place.

“Spencer, oh fuck,” you ramble. He answers by moaning against you again and then sucking your clit into his lips. You bite down a scream. The heat at the base of your spine spreads across your body. “Oh my god. Oh god.”

He alternates between lapping and sucking at your sensitive bud, your nails practically digging into his scalp, your toes curling, as you try to catch your breath. Just at the moment where it feels like too much, your body clenches and crashes over the edge of your ecstacy, his name falling from your lips repeatedly.

He continues to lap at you softly until your muscles relax in his arms and then he looks up at you, smiling and his lips glistening, “you’re incredible.” You pull him up, so that you can kiss him. You kiss the taste of you off his lips. He brings his head up to look at you, pushes away the stray hairs stuck to your forehead. “Are you going to get sick of me calling you beautiful?” He smiles.

“No, I don’t think I could.” He smiles into another kiss. His hands travel down your body and as soon as one of his fingers slides across your folds, the flames reignite.

“Is this okay?” He asks. “I want all of you.” One of his fingers slips inside of you and then he pulls it out. He slides it back in and then repeats his action, starting slow and building up to a comfortable tempo, as he continues to kiss you. Nothing about his movements is frantic, but rather languid and relaxed, gently stoking the growing fire inside of you. You grind your hips against his finger and he smoothly adds a second finger. The feeling is different, but not bad as you feel yourself accommodating the extra digit.

“Alright?” He checks in with you, looking into your eyes.

“It feels good.” It’s not like the times you’ve laid here in this bed with your fingers inside you. It’s an entirely divergent sensation that you don’t think your imagination would have been able to conjure. “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He stops sliding his fingers in and out and instead leaves them inside as he pumps them, almost as if he’s searching. He finds what he’s looking for when you gasp and cling to his shoulder.

“Yeah.” You nod furiously, biting down on your lip. He’s no longer building the tension within you. Instead, it’s like he’s playing with a taut rubber band, waiting for it to snap.

You feel your eyes start to close, wanting to roll to the back of your head. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. I want to see. Want to see you come apart for me.”

You force your eyes open. “Spencer…”

“I know, relax into it.” His thumb starts to rub your clit. “You’re doing so good.”

“Oh my god,” you start to mutter and ramble again, a mixture of curses and Spencer’s name. You never break eye contact with him. It’s intense, but also intimate.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

You let out a whine in answer and feel a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your core clenching on his fingers, the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you filling the room. The grip on his shoulders is tight and you hope it isn’t painful, but he barely seems to notice, all of his attention is on you. The mixture of admiration and lust on his features is almost too much. But you’re realizing that Spencer Reid never does anything part way or half-assed. Once Spencer puts his mind to something, he’s going to accomplish it. Not only that, but he’s going to put an almost Herculean effort into it. And somehow, you’ve become something he’s put his mind to. The thought makes you lean up and kiss him.

You kiss him until a gasp separates your lips from him. “So perfect,” he muses. Your core constricts and contracts on his fingers. Your breathing is short and your legs feel like they’re shaking, but you can’t really tell. “Come for me.”

One more shaky breath and then you do, the rubber band snaps. Your body arcs up into him and he swallows your shout with his lips, kissing you deeply. Again, he slows down but doesn’t stop, guiding you down from your high. When he does pull his fingers from you, you watch as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.

This time you don’t need him to rekindle the flame of need inside of you, it's already there. You reach between your bodies for his belt. Together, the two of you make quick work of the last of his clothing. And then he’s kissing you again, both his hands and your own caress, rub, and grab at each other. You reach down lower and lower, until you meet his hardened length with your hand. You grip the base and he falters.

“I’d love that. Really, I want it so bad. But I won’t last, baby.” You squeeze him again and smile up at him, fluttering your eyelashes. “You’re a vixen.” He laughs, kissing you.

“I want you.”

“Fuck. I don’t have a condom.” You blink, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Spencer drop the f-bomb. You giggle.

“I have some.” One of his eyebrows raises in question and you shrug. “I like to be prepared. They’re over there.” You gesture toward your nightstand and he stretches over to open it.

“Oh,” he lets out a surprised gasp and just then you remember what else is in your top drawer. “I guess you don’t just use your fingers to masturbate, do you?” He laughs.

You reach up behind you and grab a pillow and toss it at him. He dodges it and it falls to the floor. “Like I said, I’m a virgin, not inexperienced.”

Spencer grabs the box of unopened condoms, opens it and pulls one out. He carefully places the box back, his eyes lingering on your menagerie of sex toys.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“I have an eidetic memory. I’m remembering… for later.” He smiles and you feel your heart speed up, pounding against your ribcage. You hadn’t had time to discuss anything past tonight. His smile falters. “I mean – I don’t mean to presume anything. Only if you want.”

You reach over to him and pull him back toward you, kissing him. “I do. I want there to be a next time. Other times.”

He looks down at you, searching. “Good, I do too.” He kisses you and only pulls away to put on the condom. He continues his kisses as he moves to position himself, spreading your legs for him. He brushes his thumb over your clit again and you moan. When he lifts his head from yours and glances up at you. You nod your head.

You feel the tip of him at your entrance, pressing against you, but not fully in. That’s all he does at first, until you move on him and allow him to slip into you. He works himself into you, allowing you to stretch around him. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s definitely a new sensation. None of your toys feel like him. Both of you watch as his penis slowly disappears inside of you. He pushes in the last inch with a thrust. There’s a flash of a pinch and you let out a breath.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” He nods, licks his bottom lip and then resumes his circles on your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to relax on him. You grind your hips, somehow taking him deeper. He groans. “Move, Spencer. Please.”

He inches out of you and then pushes back in without any urgency or force. He starts the same pattern and rhythm his fingers had used earlier that night. The feeling of him moving inside of you is incredible, you can feel him dragging against your walls. His body against yours, skin to skin, more connected than you’ve ever been with anyone else. Between the feeling of him pumping into and his movement against your clit, it doesn’t take long until you’re clawing at his back, wordlessly asking him for more. He answers, creating a relentless rhythm that you grind your hips to match.

At some point, your eyes had shut and you hadn’t realized and so you force them open again, wanting to watch Spencer come apart just like he watched you. “You feel so good. Better than I could have imagined.” He starts to ramble. “I can’t believe I get to feel you like this. So good.”

His eyes shoot down to watch himself slip in and out of you. “Fuck.” He cusses again. You decide you like when he curses, especially if you’re the reason. He moves his hips and his cock finds the same spot his fingers found earlier and you clench around him as you let out a deep groan.

You lose track of time, it moves at a snail’s pace, but also at the speed of light. Time ceases to exist to you, your world shrinks down to only the two of you, everything else falls away. And then you’re falling again, diving headfirst into an orgasm.

“Yes, yes. I love feeling you like this. Oh my god… oh fuck. I’m gonna –” he sputters.

You reach up and pull his lips to yours, kissing him through his own orgasm. He shakes above you as he pumps into you with a final harsh push. And then when he peaks, he slowly fucks into you through his orgasm. He continues to kiss you until both of your breathing returns to normal and then he lifts his head to look at you.

He smiles and you can’t help it when a huge toothy smile appears on your own face.

“Are you okay?” He inquires.

“I’m perfect.”

His hand reaches up and caresses the side of your face. “You are.”

The next morning you walk into the office still smiling. Everyone is around the desks, including Spencer. He glances over at you and nods in greeting, as if you hadn’t just said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the first golden rays of dawn streaming through your bedroom window.

“Good morning.” You say to everyone. You set your go bag down at your desk and Emily smiles over at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oh, Morgan. You had it all wrong.” She teases.

Morgan looks at Emily and then over to you. “What?”

“That is the look of a woman who got it real good last night.” Emily laughs, loud and brash. You smile with her and Penelope gasps.

“Tell. Me. Everything.” She runs over to you and grabs onto your arm.

“I have no idea what you mean.” You reply innocently.

JJ smirks. “Oh, she got it real good last night.”

“Is sex all you guys think about?” You joke. The girls laugh and Morgan still seems confused. Spencer is focused on the file on his desk, but his finger isn’t moving down it and you know he isn’t reading it. “I had a good night last night.” You give a small inch, just to stave them off. Penelope squeals. You grab her hand. “And that’s all I’ll say about it.”

“Boo!” Emily exclaims.

Penelope almost pouts. “Oh, you are the worst!”

“I know!” You laugh gleefully. Spencer looks up for only a split second, but you catch it and he smiles at you.

“I’ll find out eventually. You do know that, right?” Penelope warns.

“You are terrifying.” You squeeze her arm and turn away from the group to start on your mountain of files. It’s true that eventually everyone would probably find out about you and Spencer, but for now the two of you get to live in your own personal world. You smile to yourself.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife @ingrid69rs @sobbingcryingattsizzles @infinitegalaxiesworld

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing #ohh my god i did not mean to write this much lmao

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disney-mystical-au · 2 months ago

Note

Found your au and found it charming, have some art. Also, has Mick and Oz tried to help Ortensia with her curse, condition, uh whatever it is she calls it? Do they even know her situation?

OH MY GOLLY GEE I GOT A SURPRISE JUMPSCARE FROM THIS—THEY ALL LOOK SO INCREDIBLE I LOVE IT SO MUCH THANK YOUU!!✨ (Sorry if I got too surprised, its just I really love your art so much so seeing this made me really happy ^^ thanks again!)

As for your question…Well she never told them how she got her inert/stone face (and her hands/feet and tail being part inert as well) because if she does… let’s just say she’ll have to deal with the consequences with her “master”. With the bros, Mickey doesn’t really mind her face that much and doesn’t question it, Oswald however. When he first met her he was shocked to see her like that (not in a rude way, just kind of extraordinary to him). As they both become “friends” (I know what they are-😏) he always wondered how her face and body was… like this and feels bad to see her dealing with it everyday and wants to help her. Oswald would even go into Yen Sid’s workshop and looks for spells/curses on how he can help Ortensia turn back to normal (Mickey tags along as well cause he also wants to help Ortensia).

The second question no they do not know her situation. At least for now… but they’ll eventually find out sooner or later.

Hope this answers your question! Thanks for asking and the art! Have some doodles of Ortensia and Oswald as a treat :)

#mystical au #my art #oswald the lucky rabbit #ortensia the cat #julius the cat #I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW THE ART-#I- I am really happy that you love my AU! Truly!#also them :)#EVEN JULIUS IS THERE TOOO #seems like he’s the fan favourite fhuervhrwiuf-#fanart

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queenie-the-court-jester · 8 months ago

Text

circus x gn!reader

ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, please, raise your hands for tonight's star act, mx.maddox and the wanderer's!

★Waking up in a thick black fog was not something you'd ever expect to happen to you. Looking around, Spotting a circus in the distance, was pretty much your only hope of finding a way out. What were they doing out here? Were they in the same boat as you? Regardless, you just hoped they're nice..

★kri was the first to meet you, having found you wandering around outside the circus tents, he quickly introduced himself and asked you where you came from. After explaining your predicament, he nodded in thought

"gee.. that sounds rough.. but don't worry, I'm sure Maddox will know what to do, come with me!"

★Maddox had been stuck in the circus for a long while, along with the other residents. Kri opened the flap into his tent and quickly explained the situation.

"I'm sorry for your predicament young one.. but im afraid we don't know any way out.. on the other hand, you are welcome to stay and be apart of the circus"

★having no other options you accepted, kri excitedly dragging you to the nursery, where all the children and young adults stayed. He introduced you to jiro, Kyo and wendy. Explaining how the four of them were the clowns

★jiro welcomed you with a kind smile, and nodded his head as greeting. You noticed how he didn't seem like much of a talker, preferring to watch and listen

"welcome y/n, I hope you enjoy your stay here"

★Kyo was obviously the most energetic of the bunch, happily blabbering about whatever and making horrible jokes. His friends only gave a small laugh and pat on the back

"it's great to see a new face, come to me if you need a picker upper okay?"

★and last but not least, Wendy. She stayed quiet, giving a shy smile and looking away whenever you'd make eye contact. She shook your hand and soon left, having seemed uncomfortable

"don't mind her... She just needs time getting used to everything, she'll come around"

★they assigned you a bed, and that's how your life at the circus started. Everyone was very welcoming, everyone but wendy. Often staring at you wearily and from a distance. 'Till one night, she came into your tent after everyone went to sleep

"shhh.. I'm sorry for bothering you this late butI need to talk to you.."

"..okay? What is it you need?"

"I'm sorry if I've been coming off as.. distant.. it's just.. you remind me of something that feels so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it.."

"oh..."

"..as you already know, everyone calls me wendy, so you can too I guess.. sorry, did that come off as cold? I'm not really used to Talking to new people.. a-anyways, if you need anything, or if you have any questions.. you can come to me"

"I'll.. keep that in mind, thank you Wendy"

★she gives you a smile and leaves soon after, quickly rushing away. The next few days, she slowly starts talking to you. Opening up bit by bit

"you know.. everyone calls us the dream team, but I really don't think we're suitable for that name. Even Maddox calls us a nightmare!"

"yeah, because you're the main factor to that assumption"

"Wendy.."

"...sorry"

★during your stay with them, you learned that Wendy showed up at the circus just a few days before you, no wonder she seemed so distant. Sometimes she'd say random words in Spanish, most likely cussing kyo out

★their roles in their act goes like this: jiro and kri are the sideshow, doing tricks and all sorts of things while Kyo and wendy were the mains. Acting out many silly stories and using slapstick humor most of the time.

★the first time you saw them in their costumes you nearly had a heartattack. Imagine seeing four scary looking clowns just staring at you ominously from the darkness

★they perform for these shadow people that would come to the circus, nobody knows what they are or why they show up, but there were rumours that once, long ago, the previous circus inhabitants refused to perform for them and.. well.. they had to be "replaced"

★during one of the dream teams acts, you wandered off. Exploring the back tents and dressing rooms when you came across multiple people you recognized, from when they all welcomed you into their little family

★a ballerina named Odette, who was next in line for the show. She seemed sweet as she waved at you from her dressing room, waving back you quickly left

"oh! Hello y/n, do you need something?"

★samson the beast tamer, a peculiar cocky man. He bowed as he dragged a lion by a chain collar behind him. You sincerely hoped they didn't mistreat the animals like other circuses, but judging by the lions calm and obedient attitude, maybe it was domesticated?

"good day sweets"

★will the stuntsman. He gave you a devilish grin as he passed by you, carrying some metal pipe. Giving a wave and smile in return

"see ya later toots!"

★maybe living in the circus won't be so bad..?

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cer-rata · 3 months ago

Text

Fic WIP: “No One Majored In Chemistry"

“...So yes, I’m going to figure out which one of you it was.” Billy growled into his phone as he dodged and weaved through the crowd of other excited freshmen.

Bruce sighed on the other end. “Are you really saying it’s impossible that you could have gotten into a good school without one of us meddling?”

“Gee, I dunno, acceptance and a full-ride scholarship to an ivy league school I didn’t apply to, with no active requirements to keep it up? Because of my AV experience? Room and board included? UPenn has a 6.5% acceptance rate, and again, I didn’t even apply, Bruce!”

A pause. “...It was Diana. Drop out, and she might actually cry.” Then he hung up, because of course he did. Billy groaned.

Fine. It was fine. Maybe superhero nepotism had gotten him into college, maybe that meant some other, more worthy kid didn’t get a shot. He had to balance that guilt with gratitude: Because someone clearly believed in him, and that meant a lot. Ugh, he couldn’t even yell at Diana about it, you can’t just yell at Diana! Why couldn’t it have been Ollie? Half of his job was giving people someone to yell at!

He was so frustrated that he pushed the door to his dorm open way harder than he intended, and it slammed against the wall, startling the boy who had apparently gotten there first. He spun on his heels away from the window where he’d been setting up some figurines and pointed a pair of accusatory finger-guns at Billy. He looked like a Scandinavian dude, with all of the trappings: Tall, broad shoulders, long shiny blond hair, blue eyes as sharp as Tim’s but somehow much less eerie to look at, probably because he wasn’t being possessed by the ghost of a Victorian street urchin.

“Oh! Oh, hey.” He pushed some hair out of his face and flashed Billy a bright smile.

“I recommend this one, Batson.”

Billy paused. He didn’t recognize that voice, who was--Oh no. Oh no, Achilles never said anything unless he was asked a direct question, and even then--OH NO.

The guy cleared his throat. “Um…You’re Billy, right?”

Crap, I missed a dialogue cue! “Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry, weird…weird morning.” Billy quickly propped his suitcase against his bed and walked over to offer the guy a handshake, which was smoothly accepted. Billy wasn’t a little guy, 5”7 was perfectly average, but this guy--wait, what was his name?

“Yeah, totally, it’s been a weird morning. It’s nice to meet you, though! I’m Garth.”

Ah, okay. “Garth” had at least five inches on him, and that, combined with the length of the fingers and width of the palm that consumed his hand served to make average old Billy feel kind of small.

“Me…me too. Um. I mean, it’s nice to also meet you, not that I’m Garth. I don’t know you well enough to decide if I want to steal your identity yet.”

Garth let out a surprised giggle and raised an eyebrow. “...Well, I hope to prove that my credit score is worthy of being ravished.”

His smile made Billy’s eyes sting a little bit, but on a level he wondered if that was a product of every one of the degenerates in his mind (and maybe Solomon) trying to get a look at once.

“Aha, I guess we’ll see!”

Garth shook his head a little and smirked. Then his eyes flicked over to Billy’s bed. “Wait, is that your only bag?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I…don’t like having a ton of clothes.” It was kind of true.

Garth nodded. “Hmm. Fair enough. I’m a little bit of a…well…” He gestured to the pile of clothes on his bed. “...I like shirts.”

"Nothing wrong with that, you seem to be good at…wearing shirts.” What?

“What?”

“I dunno man, I haven’t had any coffee, the prompt was: 'Friendly compliment that is also not weird.'”

Garth laughed again and patted him on the shoulder, and it was at that moment that Billy realized that they’d just been standing in handshake range the entire time. He backed up in the direction of his bed a bit, and Garth took that as a cue to go back to unpacking while he talked.

“I’m from Gotham, my standard for weird is a little warped.”

Billy sat on the edge of his bed and quietly lamented that his feet didn’t reach all the way to the floor. “Gotham is a wild place, yeah. Probably cursed.” Literally cursed, actually.

“Yeah, yeah there’s…yeah. But imma be real, I think Fawcett is much scarier.”

How does he know I’m from Fawcett?

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, that place is a Buzzfeed unsolved video waiting to happen, I mean there’s a reason the Big Red Goober hangs out there so often, right? Magic is spooky, man.”

Billy bit his cheek. “Ah, well, you may have a point, there have been a couple weird things over the years.”

Garth let the silence ride for a beat as he put some sweaters in his closet. “Hey so, big fan of your podcast, by the way.”

Billy chuckled nervously. “How…how do you know about that?”

“How many Billy Batsons can there be?”

“Honestly? A WEIRD number.”

Garth snorted and stretched slightly to get to the top shelf. Achilles noted that his shoulder-to-chest ratio was good for archery (and other things), and Billy tried his best to ignore him. “Either way, I figured you’d be a little more braggy about getting to interview superheroes, that’s kind of good for like, street cred and shit. But I guess being a bit of a shy little guy makes sense, all things considered.”

Billy was about to defend himself against the “little guy” accusations, but Garth turned around and made eye contact again, which derailed him long enough that he lost the window, and Garth continued on.

“So, what’re you majoring in?”

“Mixed media, with a minor in journalism.” For some reason, Billy felt a little self-conscious whenever he told someone, like it was somehow unrealistic, when in reality it had been made abundantly clear to him that the concept of ‘unrealistic’ did not apply to a life like his.

Garth seemed to think it was cool, even. “Oh that’s great! Makes sense, you seem like the type to be good at all of that stuff.”

Billy fought to keep a blush down. “Ah, gee. Um, wh-what about you?”

“Pre-med and Screenwriting. Dual major.”

Billy blinked a couple times. “Wow that--”

“Yeah, yeah I know. I kinda…I kinda applied to both departments and didn’t expect to get into either, so when I got into both I kind of panicked and accepted. So. You know. It’s…I’ll be fine, I’m used to juggling plates.” He brushed some hair out of his face and tucked it behind an ear, and for the first time in the fifteen minutes that Billy had known him, Garth looked a little nervous. Only for a moment though, then it was all smiles again. “Hey, that reminds me actually…”

Billy’s eyes widened as he watched the blond cross their room to sit right next to him on his bed. “Uh, wh--”

“How are we going to do this?”

“Do…what?”

“Oh, I do like it when they’re forward.” Zeus, please!

Garth leaned back on his hands.“I have two stressful majors, my mom has been in AA since before I was born, so no drinking, and I like people. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

“Well, theater, medicine, Gotham, parental stress: You’re one rejection letter from turning into a Phantom of the Opera themed, organ-harvesting villain of the week?” Why did I say that!?

He could hear the smug satisfaction in Hermes' voice. “Just a little inspiration, for free. You’re welcome.” AHHHHHHH--

Garth laughed really hard at that one, and any cool vibe he was trying to foster was shattered by the way his cheeks went pink and he snorted. Billy could suddenly see the dork behind the symmetrical features and shiny hair.

“Fuck you! This just means you’re gonna be my first victim, Batson. That kidney?” Billy giggled and leaned away as Garth jabbed a finger right over where his kidney actually was. “Is mine.”

“This is good,” Achilles said, “Generally this is where I’d suggest pulling your shirt up, and enticing him with your wares, but that may be unwise as you’ve neglected your mortal body’s physical integrity, you disappointing, noodly-armed twink--”

“Hey!”

Garth raised an eyebrow and Billy realized with horror that he’d let that one escape.

“Uh--”

“Sorry, just…remembered…a thing--where were you going with that before you claimed my kidney?”

“Oh! Yeah right. So I’m gonna like…be busy, you know? ‘Everybody stares at me, boys, girls, I can't help it, baby--’”

“You did NOT just quote Rent--”

“It’s a good musical! What I’m asking is if you want to like, set up a schedule, or is there a codeword, or do I put a sock on the door, or…you know.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Billy wanted to die. For some reason.

“Oh, uh. I mean yeah I guess you can just text me? But it’s not gonna be--”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m a considerate guy, I won’t screw you.”

“Wow, Batson, look at that, you’ve already taken yourself off of the table.”

“That’s not what he meant! Wait, shoot--”

“Who are you arguing with?” Garth asked casually.

Billy slowly turned to look back at him. “...Eheh, whaaaat? Sorry, just, my internal monologue sometimes--”

“It was Zeus, right? I know about the Ganymede thing, I figure I’m within his taste range.”

“He’s not wrong.”

A chill shot through Billy and he frowned. “...How do you--”

“Dami' wanted me to be prepared in the event of, and I quote, ‘Billy fucking up badly enough that you end up with a demon trying to crawl up your ass.’ End quote.”

Billy stared at him.

“...When you say ‘Dami'--’”

“The stabbiest Christmas elf, yeah.”

Billy groaned.

#fic wip #shut up cerata #my writing #billy batson #shazam #captain marvel #dc #tkaa au

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