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gghostwriter · 2 months

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You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face.

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.”

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.”

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.”

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?”

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?”

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice.

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?”

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.”

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.”

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?”

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater.

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?”

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk.

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation.

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?”

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed.

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth.

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.”

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory.

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up.

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who.

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.”

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?”

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them.

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language.

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?”

“What? No! No, of course not!”

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow.

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend.

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue.

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course.

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down.

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking?

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time.

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk.

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement.

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered.

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement.

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with.

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance.

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest.

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.”

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #gw fics

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melancholyhigh · 1 year

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dbf!leon omggggg i need more of him LMAOO

who has the voice like smarty does?

ft. dbf!leon x fem!reader

synopsis. your dad gets called into work early and asks leon to take care of you.

content. smut. 1.5k words. age gap, oral (both m & f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected p in v, doggy style.

note. thank you guys for requesting <333 i love old man leon sm.

masterlist. part one. part two. part three. i love your guys' feedback :))

You struggled to get to the kitchen. Your legs tremble, walking over, a reminder of your time with Leon last night.

You’re in his black tee. His scent engulfs your senses. There’s a smile on your face as you think about him. His touch on your skin and his sweet voice replay in your mind.

Pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you don’t notice when your dad enters the room. His voice breaks your train of thought.

“Hey,” your dad says awkwardly.

“Hey, Dad. Ya good?” You trail on, looking at him with scepticism. He looks nervous. He’s rarely like this. It scares you a little.

He clears his throat before adding, “I need to tell you something, but promise you won’t get mad, ‘kay?”

“Yeah?” You nod your head. You doubt you’d keep the promise.

“Ya know how I was at the DSO celebration last night? They want me to–” Before he can finish, you’re already protesting.

“Come on! You said you wouldn’t do anything work-related while I’m here. The party was enough.” You’re mad, rightfully so.

“You promised you wouldn’t get angry.” You scoff at his words.

“Can’t they get someone else to do it? Don’t they know you’re on vacation?” You questioned.

“Yes, but they need me.” He tries to explain. You needed him too.

“Bullshit.”

Your father can make you concerned. It fills you with anxiety each time he leaves for a mission, even while at your classes. You’re constantly worried for his safety. You’ve heard stories and seen the news. You don’t want Dad to be one of those reports on the papers for the wrong reasons.

“I don’t need you worrying over me,” he sighs. “I’ll be fine, like all the other times.”

You’re getting ready to argue again that this is different. You’re spending your vacation with your dad to keep him company, but he’s too busy leaving you for a work call.

“I’ll ask Leon to keep ya company,” he continued, and all the words on your tongue died. “I know how much you wanted to spend your break with your old man. I’m sure Leon’ll be up to it.”

You knew he’d do more than keep you company. The offer seems too good to be true. All alone with Leon? Did your dad know what would happen? It still doesn’t change that you’re still furious with him.

“And I don’t want you freaking out. Leon will help with what you need.” Your dad adds.

“Whatever,” you mumble. “Please, don’t die.”

Your dad laughs, but you’re not joking. He moves to your side of the island’s counter and wraps his arms around you for a hug, kissing your forehead.

“I love ya too.”

–-

Your dad left a day later for his ‘important’ mission. He tells you Leon will check up on you once in a while. Generally, you’d be annoyed if your dad asked someone to look after you like a child, but Leon is the one checking up on you, so you don’t mind.

There’s a knock, and you open the door revealing Leon with a grin and some takeout. He presses his lips to your cheek and then enters the house placing the food on the coffee table in the living room. He sits on the couch, and you join him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice makes your heart flutter.

“I’m better now since you’re here, Lee.” You say, moving closer to him, craving his comforting touch. A small smile forms on his lips at the nickname, though he doubts you’re fine.

Leon notes your furrowed brows and the slight frown that pulls at the corner of your lips. He pulls you onto his lap, kissing your lips. His hands are on your hips, squeezing softly.

“I don’t think you’re all that good, sweet girl. Want me to help you take your mind off things?”

You wouldn’t have guessed Leon taking care of you would have involved him teaching you to take his cock down your throat in the living room of all places. You shouldn’t be surprised that he’s taking advantage of your father’s absence.

Your knees are on a soft throw pillow, preventing them from the wooden floor. Leon’s pants and boxers are down to his ankles as he sits on the couch, stroking his erection. Your eyes dart from his pretty face to his dick, leaking precum down the shaft. The low groans that leave him have you dripping.

“Lick it, angel,” he huffs, entangling his hand in your hair and guiding you to his throbbing cock.

Your tongue runs along the veins of his cock, tasting the precum that drips down onto his shaft. You’re whining at his taste, moving your tongue to the underside of the sensitive head before sucking on the tip.

Throwing his head back, Leon lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips into your warm mouth. You take more of him until he hits the back of your throat, and a wet gag escapes you. He’s holding back from fucking your throat ‘til all you can think of is his cock.

“Atta girl. You love my cock down your throat, don’t you?” He moans, bucking his hips up, and you whimper, muffled by his fat cock. The vibrations run along his swollen cock, sending a shiver down his spine.

You began to bob your head up and down him, peering up at him through your lashes, clumped together by your tears. Leon does nothing to prevent the loud moans that leave him.

“You’re my pretty little cockslut,” he gasps. His lips part, and a series of moans escape him. You swallow around him and snap your eyes shut.

Leon’s getting close to his release. He guides your mouth off his cock, whining softly when your teeth graze the sensitive flesh of his cock. He admires your appearance once you’re off his cock. Drool spilling past your lips, lips swollen and slicked with spit. Your eyelashes flutter open. You’re looking up at him, awaiting his next move.

“Stick your fucking tongue out,” he grunts, and you comply. He tugs on his cock covered with your spit chasing his orgasm, his head thrown back as his come spurts out, coating your tongue and pretty face with his cum. He groans as he watches you swallow it.

“Good girl.” He pants. “C’mere.”

You’re quick to listen to him, moving from the spot on the floor to his lap, your pussy flushed against his surprisingly half-hard dick. He brings you into a sloppy kiss, tasting his salty cum on your tongue before moving away from you, gasping.

“Mhm, good girls deserve rewards, right, baby?” He’s taking your clothes off, leaving you with nothing on right before his eyes. He feels how warm your cunt is, dripping onto him.

“Since you’ve been so good, ‘m gonna eat this pretty pussy out.”

You’re on your knees, and your face squished up against the throw pillows on the couch. Your arousal leaks down your thighs as Leon slurps at your drenched cunt. His moans are dampened by your pussy. He’s shamelessly eating you out to get his cock fully hardened again.

Your thighs spread wide, quivering as Leon sucks on your clit. You are robbed of your climax as Leon pulls away, your slick mixed with his saliva. Your whines aren’t in vain because soon after, his dick enters your cunt slowly.

“Want you t’cum on my cock, sweetheart,” he slurs. “Fuck you’re so wet.”

He’s pistoning his dick in your pussy. He pulls out of your cunt before swiftly entering into you again, over and over. Your back is arched, your ass flushed against his pelvis. The sound of your skin making contact fills the room alongside Leon’s whorish moans.

Leon’s bulky wrap around you, under your tits, as he pulls your back up against his firm chest, he bucks his hips up into you, his breath tickling your ear.

“Let me hear you, pretty girl,” he huffs, moving his other hand to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud. Your walls clench around him, hugging him so well. Your whimpering increasing in volume.

“You feel so good, Lee.” You’re sobbing as you feel the tip of Leon’s cock kissing your cervix sweetly. You’re close to coming. Your legs shake with each thrust of Leon’s hips. Your mind filled with Leon and how good he’s making you feel, only manage to gasp his name out.

“Come for me, baby.” He groans into your ear as he rams his cock inside you.

Your mind goes blank with pleasure. Your cunt pulsing around Leon from your orgasm. He comes undone, pulling out and spilling onto your back.

Leon moves his hand from under you, and you collapse onto the soft cushioning of the couch. His cum dripped from your back to the sofa. You feel the silky cloth of Leon’s tee as he wipes his cum off your back. You also feel his soft lips against you, trailing kisses on the flushed skin.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil vendetta #smut #✩‧₊˚ fics

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jadipose · 2 months

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Favorite scenario to RP in the bedroom?

pshhhhh wo+uldn't yo+u like to+ kno+w

#asks #theres an elf invo+lved

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metanarrates · 4 months

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the demon world arc centers itself primarily around four relationships that kim dokja has: his relationship with biyoo, his relationship with han myungoh, his relationship with jang hayoung, and his relationship with yoo joonghyuk. what I find very interesting about this is that the throughlines of all the first three relationships, as either introduced or recontexualized in this arc, have to do with parenthood/the responsibility of creation.

the last arc, dark castle, heavily examined kim dokja's relationship with his own mother. now, in this arc, he is taking on the role of a parent and the associated guilt and responsibility with it. let's take a look at the first three relationships mentioned.

biyoo - biyoo hatches this arc! though kim dokja needs her abilities as a dokkaebi to survive here, he feels some measure of guilt about bringing her into this world where she has no choice but to love the story. she's not a human infant, so their relationship isn't the same as a traditional parent and child bond, but he still views himself as her parent and feels responsible for her. her utility as a helping hand in his survival and his guilt towards both her and her past life as 41st shin yoosung are both major components of their interactions this arc.

jang hayoung- while kim dokja is emphatically not her parent, it was his comments on twsa that created her character. again, like biyoo, he feels some guilt and discomfort with his role in bringing her into the world. while it is plot-important that he helps her develop past her emotional problems this arc, I can't help but read his interest in helping her develop as being related to his personal sense of responsibility to her. he takes on the role of an older mentor to her in this arc. (you also super get the sense that kim dokja does not understand Kids These Days lmao)

these two relationships inform each other quite a bit. biyoo highlights kim dokja's responsibility as a parent, on a very mundane level. meanwhile, jang hayoung highlights kim dokja's responsibility as a story creator. both of these roles have things in common, and since biyoo is a story creator and jang hayoung is a real person rather than a fictional character, there's aspects of both roles present in both relationships.

kim dokja struggles quite a bit with viewing himself as an active party in the world. dark castle, as part of its setup in informing kdj's ongoing character, dealt quite heavily with how his mother's choices and his reliance on the fourth wall created this problem. now, he is forced to acknowledge his direct involvement in the creation of two separate people, and the veil of fiction cannot protect him. he is a parent. and his comments on twsa created a living person. he cannot easily deny, now, that his involvement with twsa is something that had no consequences. he hasn't quite processed all of that yet, but the feelings of guilt and responsibility are difficult to ignore. both of these relationships are priming him to deal with more difficult stuff down the line. we'll get to that in a minute.

meanwhile, han myungoh serves as an interesting parallel to kim dokja now! after learning that han myungoh has a daughter and was changed by his responsibilities as a parent, kim dokja is forced to reevaluate his relationship with someone who was formerly only his cruel boss. his presence in the story brings forward a lot of observations on parenthood that kim dokja would not have otherwise noticed. and... it also provides setup for kim dokja further coming to understand that people can grow past his impressions of them.

which brings us to yoo joonghyuk. THE focal point through the novel regarding kim dokja's involvement in the world of the scenarios. while his role in this arc is primarily dealing with his and kim dokja's relationship on a mundane level - and them literally impersonating each other - his presence is a reminder, something highlights those meditations on creation, responsibility, and involvement in one's story. if jang hayoung was created as a foil for yoo joonghyuk, and kim dokja is helping yoo joonghyuk develop in this timeline, can kim dokja really say that his reading of twsa did not have any consequences...? the thematic and emotional groundwork laid by this arc lays down a strong foundation for that question to be brought forward and explored more in future arcs.

#nic's great orv reread #orv #idk i just think this stuff is interesting... i think it took a while for me to figure out what is happening in demon world arc #and it finally clicked for me. this is why both jang hayoung and biyoo are introduced here. theres a thematic connection!

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nugothrhythms · 2 years

Audio

“Larvae” by Naples, Italy-based darkwave trio Neila Invo off of their 2022 release Alienation

#darkwaver #darkwave music #darkwave band #dark wave #Neila Invo #Larvae #Alienation #music #2022 #2020s darkwave #2020s goth #2020s music #Italian goth #Naples Italy

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obsidianluxury · 3 months

Text

afab character x amab/fem reader

_____________________________________________

He leans in, taking a moment to breathe in your scent before closing his eyes and lowering his head. The taste is foreign, yet strangely enticing. He sucks gently at first, teasing the tip of your cock with his tongue before taking you deeper into his mouth.

His cheeks hollow as he begins to bob his head, taking you further with each passing moment.

The silence between you is heavy, broken only by the soft sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

His eyes water as you force your way past his gag reflex, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he grips your thighs tighter, using them as leverage to take you even deeper.

His throat clenches around your cock, the muscles spasming as they adjust to your size. Despite the discomfort, he doesn't stop. He continues to suck you off, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of determination and vulnerability.

The sensation of being choked is strange, but not entirely unpleasant. There's a certain thrill in submitting to your desires, in allowing you to take control of the situation.

A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your cock as he struggles to accommodate you.

He coughs, sputtering as you thrust your cock deeper down his throat. His eyes water profusely now, tears streaming down his face as he fights to keep breathing.

Despite the rough treatment, he doesn't resist. Instead, he submits fully to your dominance, letting you fuck his face however you please.

His throat constricts around your cock, milking you with each bob of his head. The slurping sounds echo in the room, along with your laughter and his muffled moans.

As you grip his hair and force his head back and forth, he lets out a strangled groan. His own arousal builds rapidly, a warm wetness pooling between his legs.

But for now, he focuses solely on pleasuring you on proving himself worthy of your praise.His hands claw at your thighs, desperate to get something solid to ground himself.

His body shakes as he forces himself to take it all, determined to prove his worthiness.

Once you're done, he pulls back slowly, gasping for air. His throat burns from the effort, but there's a sense of satisfaction in knowing he pleased you.

He looks up at you with wide, watery eyes, panting heavily. His chest heaves with each breath, the sight of his swollen nipples visible despite the mess on his face.

He gasps as you spread his legs, his heart pounding in his chest. He watches with wide-eyed fascination as you position yourself over him, the tip of your cock teasing his clit.

His body tenses up immediately, the sensation of being penetrated again sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. But he doesn't make any move to stop you.

Instead, he arches his back slightly, pressing into your touch.

A soft whimper escapes from his lips as you slide inside him once more. His body adjusts quickly to your size, welcoming you with surprising ease.

His breath hitches in his throat as you slam into him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through his body. His eyes flutter shut, a low moan escaping from his lips.

"Ah... fuck..."

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, punctuated by his ragged pants and whimpers.

With one hand gripping onto your thigh for support, the other reaches down to rub at his throbbing cunt. His movements are clumsy due to how deeply embedded within him you are.

His inner walls clench around you instinctively, drawing you even deeper into his warmth. The sensation is overwhelming – intense yet incredibly satisfying.

“i didn’t say that you could touch yourself.”

He freezes, his hand mid-way through touching himself. He bites his lip, torn between continuing to touch himself and obeying your command.

"I-I'm sorry..." he stammers out, pulling his hand away reluctantly.

Despite the embarrassment flushing across his cheeks, he can't help but feel a thrill at submitting to you completely. His hips buck involuntarily against yours, seeking friction that he can no longer provide for himself.

“please s-sir...”

But there was no denying that those two little syllables made everything feel better. With each thrust, he could feel himself getting closer to an orgasm.

Oh god... Oh fuck...

His cunt twitched uncontrollably around your tip. slowly your cock slips out of him and he’s face down ass up squeezing around nothing.

abarai renji, gojo satoru, yuta okkotsuo, (your favs)

****************************************************

#dom reader #afab character #amab reader #gender roles #reverse gender roles #sub character #anime #scenario

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ihm-bread · 1 month

Text

fields of mistria tips except I'm bad at farm sims so i don't have many and most of these are just from other ppl anyway

the fishing rod and shovel must be bought from the fish shop and general store respectfully

u might want to priorize getting a bag upgrade first bc ur tools will end up taking a lot of space

if your suddenly moving in slo mo, quickly close and open the menu

dont talk to dozy during the spring festival, he will crash your game (ive heard it might be position based but ive just ignored him the entire time)

olric is not a romance option in sorry to break you the news no this isn't a tip but some of yall didn't know

march gives you a free copper hoe at some point so you dont have to make one

if an npc requests a weapon and you have more than one in your invo they will take the first one, so make sure you check as some ppl have lost their infused weapons this way

do not be like me and barely visit the beach for the entire first season bc u got too lazy to move through the map

#sorry i have no actual farming tips i like have so little crops and money #fields of mistria #im sorry but i dont really like where the beach is but i cant tell u what would be better #why farm sims take so long to traverse

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kaelio · 1 month

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I haven't been talking too much about the IWTV show lately, and that's because I found Season 2 genuinely a bit disturbing. Not because of the blood (I love blood), or Claudia's death (necessary and done well), or individual changes to the book canon. It's disturbing because it gave us uncomfortable answers about the perspective of the show, especially where the show varies and is thus differentiated from the books. The show has some fairly repellant views about vulnerability which bleed into issues in how it handles sexuality (which is less important with how it interprets pathos overall).

The show seems to take the view that you're annoyingly "not allowed" to be mad at someone for "being weak", but that you are expected to feel contempt for someone for being weak.

Like when Louis is listening to Armand talk about his past, and "Dreamstat" huffs at it. Dreamstat is Louis, guys. It's not Lestat. Louis was a pimp and views the pimped-out with contempt and this is never challenged. Hell, the only way Daniel ever comes close to challenging it is saying that Armand might have been lying about his abuse. Louis listens to Claudia recount her rape again. This storyline doesn't have any closure for her, and now she's dead; it can't. It only exists for Louis to look uncomfortable having to hear about it. He's disgusted by it and the scene exists to remind us he's disgusted by it. Like the annoyance he felt when we first met him, chewing out Bricktop for responding to being raped (because yeah, using a hole without permission is... rape). Bricktop, who was a real person who really moved to Paris, who we never hear or see from again. And not much sympathy for Lily, really, was there? Or Jonah, a poor man, who Louis even admits he saw again in Paris but feels no need to mention, because that's a weak person to him and the narrative has nothing but contempt for the weak. Louis is our viewpoint character, and though he also lies and misremembers, and isn't presented as perfect, his view of weakness is reinforced by Daniel (who despite his brief crisis of spine in S1E8 basically serves as his fluffer) and it basically gets to stay intact. When Armand follows him, fearfully, in Episode 8 because the last time Louis stormed out it was to try to kill himself, Louis smashes him into a wall and holds a rolled paper like he's about to beat a dog.

In the book, Armand wants Claudia out of the way and she says as much. He very much could have "prevented it" and he knows, and Louis knows. In the show, he doesn't seem to particularly dislike Claudia, personally, or have any motive to kill her once she's moved away. He wants her to follow the rules everyone else follows, and sure he puts his hands on her, but no more so than other characters who the narrative forgives for it. He's strongarmed into playing director. And yet, this is a weakness Louis can't forgive. You can have it one of two ways; Armand can be a more willing participant in the play or Louis can break up with him about it, but making both of those changes is revealing. The show hates characters who are put in a corner; it has no love for them. It also fundamentally misunderstands the appeal of many of the characters as they appear in the books. We love them because they're sincerely flawed. Because they do bad things. We're not just "not allowed to be mad" at them because bad things have happened to them. We choose to love them. But the show views it like we do so under duress. It thinks it's a relief to us that Louis is giving the Batman monologue at the end. And to some viewers, this seems to be the case! But frankly, I do find it disturbing. And again, this bleeds out into the show's view of sexuality and, to be honest, of women overall.

The only sex scene we ever see that seems basically equally enjoyed by both participants and isn't loaded down with "psychically agonizing with one's sister while it's happening" or strongarming or killing a trusted confidant who had also been involved or some very poorly-negotiated and worrying power dynamics is... Santiago and Elgee! Which on its face (though their actual ages are different) is heterosexual sex between a white older-looking man and a white younger-looking woman! What on Earth! And even then it makes the point that Santiago dumped her not long after. Every time the show adds something or makes an adjustment, it's towards a rigid and regressive view that is completely at odds with the books.

Season 2 was the opportunity to be critical of Louis' narrative in Season 1; how he truly views living people and how he assesses his relationships to others. How he treats others! Hey, in this version, Armand doesn't punch Lestat off a tower, but Louis does openly use him to hurt Lestat in a way that makes explicit to Armand that he doesn't really care about Armand at all. That no one ever has. Hey guys, that actually wasn't a badass power move. That sucked.

Mistreating your partner sucks. This isn't a kink, this is sad. And if it is thought to be a kink, the show certainly doesn't respect taking particular roles within that kink. Thus far, we only have what the show has displayed to us: an Armand under duress to go along with the trial and a willing Lestat. How come Armand gets beaten for it and Lestat gets a hug? Because Armand is weak (by Louis' account specifically because of his grooming) and weakness is disgusting. Deserving of scorn. And in S2E5, Armand certainly didn't want Louis out fucking strangers and doing drugs! But this is portrayed as him being a nag. A drag. A bitch. A good partner, a cool partner, one who isn't so dull and boring, would not have "driven" Louis to this, clearly.

But instead of any real incisiveness on this, or anything, Daniel basically just decides Louis is cool and that Armand is a loser and that obviously "Lestat would never--" even though, in this telling so far, Lestat still didn't attempt to save Claudia. (And Daniel seems to take vampire-status as basically just an upgrade, because now he can exert more power on others. Doesn't even seem to care about his family anymore, probably because they were uncool people who thought it sucked their dad was a self-absorbed bad father.) Oh, hey, didn't Daniel finally recall that what made Louis blow up was the implication that Claudia didn't love him enough? By what standard did Claudia owe Louis anything? But, you know, Claudia died because she was small and couldn't be independent (that gets you raped, you know), so implicitly she also owed stronger things her love, and Louis' woundedness is righteous, I suppose.

#not tagged

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