My name's Harley and that's really it
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sucker for you
peter maximoff x reader
word count: 1.2k
i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that
a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first
warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.
He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.
From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.
And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.
As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.
"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.
Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.
He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.
"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”
Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.
“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.
Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.
“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.
Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.
“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.
“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.
“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.
Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.
“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.
He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –
“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.
“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”
“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”
“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”
“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”
“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”
Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.
You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.
“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.
His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.
“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”
You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.
“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.
He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.
•••••
thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕
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summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ taglist [CLOSED]: here playlist: here status: complete
main masterlist || ao3
bonus! 00 — l.d.s.k
in other words, the first time spencer calls you 'angel'. // wc: 2.2k
part of my 2023-2024 milestone event! you can find it here!
01 — better than revenge
“she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”
you thought you were past the immature arguments now that you're an adult. you thought you left those in high school, or even college. maybe you thought you did. apparently, spencer thought otherwise. // wc: 10.4k
02 — haunted
“something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”
it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be a normal open-shut case. but people are unpredictable and you're left picking up the pieces as you work yourself to the grave. // wc: 10.1k
03 — labyrinth
“uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?”
everything hurts. it's understandable, after everything he's went through. spencer wishes that he could erase every one of his scars. he wishes he could stop chasing the highs and embrace the lows. but at least he has you. // wc: 3.8k
04 — you are in love
“you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.”
spencer didn't think that something like this could happen. no, rather, he wanted to deny the fact that something like this could happen. but all he can think about is you. in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. // wc: 3.4k
05 — enchanted
“please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”
the line drawn in the sand that was once supposed to be an invisible boundary to never cross is washed away by the sand. these are the kind of lines where you could never go back to should you cross them; and yet here you are, so scared to see the ending as the two of you pretend that this is nothing. // wc: 4.9k
06 — untouchable
“come on, come on, say that we’ll be together”/“i’m caught up in you.”
so close and yet so far. maybe in some twisted way, you are each other's romeo and juliet, doomed from the beginning. or maybe you are each other's hamlet and ophelia, the tragedy of a love that never really was. // wc: 4.3k
07 — wildest dreams
“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”
never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would be privileged enough to experience something so good. spencer reminds you that these things are reality. // wc: 3.3k
reblogs are always appreciated!
taglist [CLOSED]: here
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fic recs!
(all fics are x reader; specific characters below the cut)
╰┈➤ all time favourites! <3
╰┈➤ smut recs! 18+ ONLY
please respect the writers and do not interact with any content marked 18+ if you are a minor, thank you!
challengers (2024):
➸ art donaldson
➸ patrick zweig
criminal minds:
➸ aaron hotchner
➸ spencer reid
house md:
➸ gregory house
➸ james wilson
➸ robert chase
marauders:
➸ james potter
➸ remus lupin
➸ sirius black
marvel:
➸ bucky barnes
➸ frank castle
➸ matt murdock
➸ mcu!peter parker
➸ robert “bob” reynolds
➸ tasm!peter parker
star wars:
➸ din djarin
➸ han solo
➸ obi-wan kenobi
stranger things:
➸ eddie munson
➸ jonathan byers
➸ robin buckley
➸ steve harrington
supernatural:
➸ dean winchester
➸ sam winchester
the bear:
➸ carmen berzatto
➸ richie jerimovich
the pitt:
➸ frank langdon
➸ jack abbot
➸ michael “robby” robinavitch
➸ samira mohan
➸ trinity santos
miscellaneous characters:
➸ fox mulder (the x files)
➸ joel miller (the last of us)
retired characters:
(no new fic recs will be added for these characters!)
➸ indiana jones
➸ lip gallagher (shameless)
➸ rafe cameron (outer banks)
➸ thomas shelby (peaky blinders)
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Is that a valid argument in your pants or is it just a phallacy?
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Conditioned response
You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes.
WC: 1.2K
Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.
Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet.
Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”
His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers.
It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time.
No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him.
Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release.
After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was.
As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked.
He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment.
But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards.
As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair.
He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair.
Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage.
Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this.
The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself.
“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”
You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean. This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs.
“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.”
It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former.
“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”
You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes.
The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless.
“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“
You snap. He cums.
Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants.
“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.”
You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless.
“And how would I do that, to stop this?”
You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.
“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.”
Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for.
“But you don’t want that, do you?”
Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have.
It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self.
So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken.
The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut.
It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him.
Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure.
It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.
“I-I can’t, please.”
He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal.
“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”
You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest.
You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.
“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms.
A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was.
It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior?
You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways.
A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe.
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.”
It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.
Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it.
But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length.
You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.
His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself.
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doomed by the narrative and haunted by the narrative and a secret third thing (narrating the narrative)
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girl something good has to happen at some point
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It's coming along. Wish me luck I'm about to use holographic filament for the first time.
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“Can I be mean for a second” I would not care if you killed the bitch in front of me. Now what’s bothering you queen
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