ahhhhhhhhhhh

They/Them 🔞

[mitsuqo]

ᵧᵢₚₚₑₑₑₑₑₑₑ!🌊

(another doodle from my alt on Instagram and Twitter)

[leonideez]

i can never escape

[haughtyraban]

“there’s an ai tool for that” okay ?? there’s probably an ed sheeran song for it too who gives a fuck

[moveslikekeithrichards]

when i say “that reminds me” & theres zero connection you just have to take my word for it theres no time to explain

[headkiss]

just for you, i let it happen

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and spencer spend long enough pining over each other, the team helps you along. or: 4 times the team tries to get you and spencer to acknowledge your feelings for each other +1 time it works.

word count: 7.1k

content: fluff, usual criminal minds talk (unsub, kidnapping, etc), probably bau-related inaccuracies, mutual pining (idiots!), team shenanigans, one fake date, and one real one <3

a/n: hill lovelies!! i know it's been so long since i've posted something but i hope u guys will enjoy <3 i had so much fun writing for my sweet boy spencer!! my first spencer longfic!!!

ᯓ★

It’s taken you a few trips to perfect your go bag. To figure out what’s really necessary and what isn’t. Today, lugging your duffel on your shoulder, you’re grateful to have left that second pair of shoes behind.

Your bags always feel a bit heavier after a case. You’re already weighed down by the events of the last few days, your body tired, feet heavy.

You’re glad to be the first one to board the plane, sinking into one of the seats and letting your bag drop at your feet. You’re glad that the case is over, glad to be going home, glad to get to sleep in your own bed tonight (though it'll most likely be morning by the time you get back to Quantico).

The rest of the team follows suit, sighing as they get into their own seats. Spencer and Hotch are the last to board, Hotch always waits until every member is inside before taking his turn, and Spencer often gets distracted telling him some statistic about planes or airports or anything really.

Today, for once, Hotch asks Spencer a follow up question and — delightedly surprised — Spencer keeps talking.

You’re sitting by the window in one of the front rows on the jet, facing away from the entrance and most of the team. You don’t see Spencer climb into the plane, but you hear the shuffling.

Spencer usually sits near the back, playing chess against himself or reading a book and then another since he finishes them so fast. Sometimes, he sits with JJ, even rarer he’ll find himself across from Morgan who likes to tease him enough that he’d rather not be there every single flight.

He wants to sit with you, but Spencer has found himself reverting back to his early BAU self where you’re concerned. Shy, fumbling, either rambling or having no clue what to say.

You’re his friend, you’re kind to him and ask about his mom often. You bring him back a coffee whenever you grab one for yourself (if he beats you to it, he does the same), and it’s always as sweet as he likes it to be. He lends you books he thinks you’ll like, and never pesters you for them back even though you know you take forever to return them.

He walks you to your car after work every day, even if he’s finished before you are. You don’t know that bit, but he waits until you’re leaving to pack up his stuff and follow you to the elevator.

All of that, and still, Spencer gets nervous around you. He can’t even bring himself to sit next to you on the jet even though you’re beside each other at the round table each time without fail.

This time, the team’s decided to help him along.

Initially, he goes for his usual seat in the back, and finds Emily sprawling files all over the small table despite the fact that she gets nauseous reading on the plane. Behind Spencer’s back, Hotch takes the seat across from her and shakes his head when she winks at him.

Then, it’s Rossi, who’s fake-arguing with his agent over the phone about his next book. JJ’s sprawled across the small couch near the snack bar, digging into a travel-sized bag of Cheetos.

Finally, there’s Derek, who kicks his feet up onto the seat across from him when Spencer heads toward him. “Sorry, pretty boy,” he says, though he doesn’t look (or sound) sorry at all, “looks like you’ll have to try your luck over there,” he nods towards where you sit across the aisle.

You, too distracted attempting to dig your thin fleece blanket from your bag, don’t notice anything until Spencer clears his throat lightly. You finally tug your blanket from your bag and sit up, looking over at Spencer standing in the aisle, rocking on his feet once.

“Do you mind if I..?” he gestures loosely to the seat next to you.

“Of course not,” you say.

You breathe in as he sits next to you, and he smells like cinnamon and the pages of a book. Warm, comforting. You try not to let it show on your face how pleased you are to have him beside you.

When you joined the team, you’d been the most anxious you’d ever been in your life, and you remember hesitating before walking into the bullpen, wiping your palms on your black pinstriped trousers.

And then, the first face to greet you was Reid’s, and he was so sweet, apologizing for not wanting to shake your hand, spewing a fact about germs and then folding his lips into his mouth like he was stopping himself from saying more. For those few seconds, you weren’t thinking about impressing everyone, weren’t focused on that pit in your stomach at the thought of so much newness.

You liked him immediately, and his looks only made it all worse for you. His hair disheveled, his clothes neat, his hands waving around in front of him, and his voice, so lovely and focused as he sounded off statistics. You’ve been housing a crush on him ever since.

You’d heard Morgan call him pretty boy that day, and you couldn’t help but think of how fitting it was. Derek may have been teasing, but Spencer really is pretty.

And then you got to know him, got to become a part of the team and learned about his little quirks and the way that he still wouldn’t shake hands, but doesn’t mind a hug every now and then. You learned that he was pretty inside and out.

So, as he settles in next to you on the jet, you can’t help but hide a smile. You’re on the plane before him most of the time, and he’s never joined you until now.

“I have to warn you,” you say, “I might not be the best seat buddy. I almost always fall asleep after takeoff.”

Spencer shrugs, pushing his hair behind his ear and he pulls his book into his lap, “That’s alright. I like quiet.”

“What if I snore, Reid?”

“You don’t snore,” he tells you.

“Maybe I do. How would you know?”

Rather than admit that he pays attention to you during flights, that he sometimes catches himself staring at you all peaceful in your seat while he waits for his coffee to brew, that he knows you don’t snore because he’s seen you sleeping and all you do is bunch your blanket in your fists and scrunch your brow from time to time, like you’re dreaming, he says:

“Ambiance for my reading. Like white noise. You know, having an auditory background can actually support cognitive development and emotional health.”

You smile and shake your head at him. You don’t think you’ll ever be used to the way he knows something about everything, just like that. Before you can reply, the pilot alerts you all that you’ll be taking off shortly.

Spencer opens his book in his lap, and you sink into your seat and close your eyes, squeezing them shut until the jet is up in the air steadily.

Soon enough, you’re falling asleep as promised. For a while, your head’s leaning back against your seat; Spencer can’t help but think of how your neck will be sore from the position. Just as he has the thought, the jet jolts a little bit in turbulence, and your head lolls to the side and ends up on his shoulder.

He goes still for a second, afraid you’ll wake up from the movement, but you don’t. You shift the tiniest bit, almost nuzzling into him, and then you relax again. Your breathing remains steady, and Spencer tamps down a smile as the smell of your shampoo surrounds him.

Across the aisle, Morgan raises an eyebrow, shooting Reid a pointed look. Spencer simply goes back to reading his book.

He doesn’t get up to use the bathroom at all, turns pages slower than he usually would, keeps his shoulder and arm still even though he can feel them falling asleep a little. All so that he doesn’t disturb you.

Sleep is such a vulnerable state, and although he knows you nap on nearly every flight, he feels like he’s won something by having you resting on him. Like you’re comfortable, like you trust him.

Just for a second, Reid lets himself rest his head against yours.

It isn’t until you land that you wake up, the plane hitting the pavement jostling you enough that you blink your eyes open. The first thing you register is the feel of something soft beneath your cheek. When that something soft moves a little, you realize it’s Spencer’s sweater.

Still groggy, you lift your head, “Shit. Sorry, Spence. I didn’t mean to sleep on you.”

You’re a bit embarrassed, really. The one time he sits next to you on the jet and you wind up using him as a pillow without his permission.

Meanwhile Spencer doesn’t mind one bit. All he can focus on is the sleepy way you called him Spence just now. Usually, it’s Reid, occasionally, it’s Spencer, but this is the first time you’ve ever called him Spence. He wants to hear you say it again.

“Actually studies show that having weight against you can help to lower your heart rate and lessen anxiety,” he responds.

A smile ghosts across your face, because you know that’s his way of telling you not to be sorry. “So, I should be saying ‘you’re welcome,’ then?”

Yes, he thinks.

-

The team is headed to Portland this time around, and though you still don’t enjoy flying (you still need the help of a gravol-induced nap), you don’t dislike it as much.

Spencer sits with you more often than he doesn’t now. Even with you using him as a pillow half the time. He doesn’t seem to mind, which never fails to surprise you whenever you wake up.

It’s nice, though. Nice enough that you think about what it would be like to nap close to him in other ways.

You picture him on the other side of the bed in your studio apartment, picture yourself on the couch at his place (which you’ve only seen once). You imagine what he’d wear when he isn’t working, or whether he wears his glasses more often at home.

You’re snapped out of another daydream when the airport shuttle pulls over in front of the hotel you’re set to be staying at this time around. You’d landed too late to head to the police station, had left immediately after wrapping up another case, and Hotch determined at least a few hours of sleep would do you all some good.

He’s the one who goes up to the front desk when you walk inside, and comes back with only four room keys instead of seven and an apologetic Penelope on the phone.

“I’m so sorry my lovely crime fighters. They were pretty full for tonight, so you’ll have to double up, my loves.”

None of you can see her, but she’s smiling on her end of the line. She may have not booked enough rooms on purpose.

Immediately, Emily and JJ pair up and take a key from Hotch, heading to the elevators with their elbows looped together and heads bent like they’re laughing about something. Morgan snatches up another for himself saying something about needing space for “all of this.”

Rossi shrugs and pairs himself with Aaron (“for old time’s sake”), which leaves you and Spencer. Hotch hands you the room key with a simple “we’ll see you at the station at 8” before he leaves with Dave.

“Is this okay with you?” you ask Spencer. “I could always go to the desk and double check.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “We’d better go get some sleep while we can.”

And Spencer means it. He doesn’t mind sharing a room, it’s not like he’s never had to on a case before. It’s only that it’s you. He already doesn’t know how to act around you most of the time, and this feels like a whole new layer of intimacy and closeness he doesn’t know what to do with.

He wants it, of course he does. He would have preferred it in different circumstances, maybe where you weren’t pushed together by default, but still.

Spencer lets you lead the way to the elevators and then to the room. You open the door after fumbling with the key a couple of times and muttering about ‘stupid hotel doors.’

You’re glad (at least, you think you are) to see two beds when you step inside. Behind you, Spencer locks the door and slides the chain lock into place. Then, he slips past you and sets his things on the bed closest to the door. It’s safer for you that way, he thinks, if anything were to happen.

You try not to read into it, but you’re reminded of that time you’d been ranting to JJ about your date not taking the side of the sidewalk closest to the road and Spencer overheard.

It’s not the same thing, you tell yourself. It still makes you feel warm.

“Were you gonna have a shower before bed?” you ask, setting your go bag on your bed.

Spencer’s head flicks over to you “I don’t- uh. You go ahead.”

“Thanks.”

You grab your things quickly and head into the ensuite bathroom, shutting the door behind you and leaning your head against it. It isn’t until he hears the lock click shut that Spencer squeezes his eyes shut and lets his head fall forward.

All you’d said was the word ‘shower’ and he could barely manage a sentence.

He unpacks to keep himself busy as the sound of running water fills the room, grabbing his book from his bag and setting it onto the nightstand between beds along with his glasses and a water bottle.

He’s just finished folding his (few) clothes into a drawer of the dresser when the bathroom door opens and you walk out in nothing but a towel.

There are drops of water running down your neck and shoulders, your eyelashes still wet and thick where they frame your eyes. He tries not to, he really does, but Spencer can feel himself staring at you and he can’t seem to make himself stop.

You look beautiful. You always do, but seeing you this way — the way a boyfriend might — is making his heart thump heavier, his fingers twitching by his sides.

You clear your throat, nervous under his gaze that seems so focused and yet so soft. “Sorry. I forgot to grab my pajamas… so.”

It’s then that he realizes he’s blocking your path, and he quickly steps aside, bumping into the dresser clumsily. “Oh! Right, yeah. I’ll just-”

Spencer grabs his own change of clothes and closes himself into the bathroom. The mirror is still fogged up from the steam, but he starts up the shower again, hoping it’ll help clear his head. Snap him back into it.

When he emerges from the bathroom in a pair of plaid pants and a faded t-shirt, he sees you in bed, your own loose shirt on, legs covered by the blankets, and a book in your lap.

“What are you reading?”

“It’s silly,” you say, setting it face-down on the bed, a little embarrassed. “Just a romance. None of that smart stuff you read.”

“All reading is smart,” he tells you. “It’s not silly. It’s good for you.”

“I’m just saying it’s not, like, in Latin or anything.”

He huffs a laugh, settling into his own bed and sliding his glasses onto his face. So he does wear them more outside of work, you observe. He looks so lovely this way, too. His hair still damp and curling behind his ears, his cheeks rosy behind the frames. It feels like a privilege, getting to see him so.. unguarded.

“I’ve read romances, you know,” he says.

“What?”

“Mostly the classics. Jane Austen, the Brontës.”

You’re not sure why it surprises you so much, but it does. You suppose you’ve always thought that Spencer’s idea of reading for enjoyment was beyond romance, more complicated, scientific. But you should’ve known he’s read just about everything by now.

“You, Doctor Spencer Reid, have read Pride and Prejudice?”

“‘You have bewitched me, body and soul,’” is his response.

“Oh my god.” A smile stretches onto your face, slowly mirrored on Spencer’s.

You end up staying awake later than you should talking about which movie adaptation you prefer (“2005. Obviously.”), about other books you’ve both read, and then about their adaptations, too. Over time you both sink deeper and deeper into bed until you’re laying down facing each other.

You’re not even sure when you fall asleep, all you know is that Spencer’s voice is the last thing you hear, all slow and soft with his own tiredness.

When you wake up, you’re still facing each other, laying on the sides of your beds as close to the other as possible. Spencer’s arm hangs loosely over the edge, like he’d been reaching across the gap for you in his sleep.

-

The next case is only a week later, but you don’t have to fly this time around.

It’s only a 15 minute drive from Quantico, and that’s without the sirens and Morgan behind the wheel. That means you get to set up in your usual office, sleep in your bed for a couple of hours when you can. You’re never happy to have a case, because people are getting hurt, but it’s a small victory to not have to go far.

Two abductions have happened at local parks, though no bodies have turned up yet. You’ve all been working as quickly as possible, trying to keep those people alive.

Hotch gathers you all in the conference room the morning of day three on the case, delivering roles as usual. JJ to stay in the office and field calls or answer questions, Emily and Morgan to dig deeper into the victims, retracing their steps, Rossi and Hotch to scout the abduction sites again for anything they’ve missed.

You’ve found a man that has been connected to both victims, but not enough to bring him in, which is why, when he gets to you and Spencer, he says:

“You two will be following our suspect today.”

You look at each other, then back to Hotch.

Reid speaks first. “But the geographical profile isn’t done, and-”

“We don’t have anything new for the geographical profile,” Hotch responds.

“Might be good for you to go outside, pretty boy,” Morgan says. “Could use some sunlight, probably.”

“Actually it’s extremely unlikely that anyone could die from prolonged darkness,” Spencer shoots back. “Plus, we have windows.”

“This is where I need you two,” Aaron looks between you and Spencer, “alright?”

“I’ll drive,” you say as your agreement.

It’s not unusual to do stakeouts, though you don’t do them often. What’s unusual is choosing you and Reid for the job that most often goes to Morgan. You can’t bring yourself to be bothered, not when it means you’ll get to spend more time with Spencer.

Despite his putting up a fight, Spencer doesn’t really mind either. Sure, he feels like he can be more helpful doing something else, but ever since sharing a room in Portland he’s wanted to be with you alone.

There was an ease then, a comfort that didn’t come when the rest of the team was around. You’d spoken to each other before bed each night, falling asleep to the sounds of each other’s voices, and Spencer hadn’t even wanted to pack up when the case was over.

If he could have stayed one more night with you there, caught the jet in the morning instead, he would have. Happily.

Ever since that case, he does feel a little less awkward around you, though, and sometimes he wonders if you feel a little bit closer to him, too.

As promised, you drive. Instead of taking a bureau vehicle, Hotch had asked you to take your own. He’d said you’d be less noticeable that way, and that backup would always be close enough if needed.

You unlock your car in the parking lot, watching Spencer climb into your passenger seat beside you. He shuts the door behind him, buckles his seatbelt, and flicks the air freshener you have hanging over your rear view mirror.

“I can take it down if the smell bothers you,” you say.

“It’s nice,” he tells you. Birthday cake, he notices, and he wonders quickly if that’s why you sometimes smell like vanilla when you walk into the bullpen.

“Okay. Feel free to snoop.”

He smiles gently, because he’d been trying to secretly do just that. Your car is mostly clean, a few gun wrappers in the doors and a half-full water bottle in the backseat, but that’s it. Your glovebox is pretty standard, though he does find a loose figurine in it.

You notice him holding it. “That’s my car buddy. Keeps me company when nobody else is in here.”

“Won’t be needing him today,” Spencer says, putting it back and shutting the compartment.

“No, I won’t.”

The man you’re set to be following is still home when you get there, so you drive around the block and wait by the corner until he leaves.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait very long.

“He’s getting into his car,” Spencer tells you.

“And the fun begins,” you say, turning the corner once the man has pulled out of his driveway.

It turns out not to be fun, actually. It’s all very routine and normal stuff. A grocery trip, dropped back at his house before heading out again. An overpriced drive-thru coffee where he actually pays for the car behind him, which happened to be you and Spencer.

“Either he’s onto us, or he’s actually just doing a nice thing,” you say once you’ve gotten your drinks. “I didn’t think people bought other people’s coffees anymore.”

“I would have bought yours,” is Spencer’s response. Quiet and sweet and almost disappointed, like he’d wanted to spend money on you.

Eventually, your target stops at a park, which has both you and Spencer back on high alert. Both abductions happened at parks. You look at each other and get out of your car to follow him.

You notice that the man is carrying a pair of binoculars and a camera, which raises your suspicions even further. He’s equipped to scope out victims.

Spencer works easily alongside you, falling into step without question, going where he needs to without needing to say a word.

The man walks up and joins a group, some wearing cargo vests and almost all of them wearing matching hats with the same logo on them.

You sigh and dial Hotch’s number.

“What do you have?”

“Hey, this isn’t our guy,” you tell him.

“Why’s that?”

“His big secret is…” you look back at the group, “bird watching. It’s why he’s been spotted at a lot of the parks.”

“You’re sure it’s not just a cover?”

“Hotch, there’s a group of at least twenty people with him. It’s a bird watching club.”

“Actually a lot of people, especially of younger generations, just call it birding now,” Spencer chimes in.

You smile. Always something to say.

“Okay, well, why don’t you two have lunch and meet us back here after?”

You scrunch your eyebrows. “You don’t want us back now?”

“We’re not any closer than we were before, and it might be good for you two to be at the park a little longer,” Hotch tells you. “Just in case.”

“Right, okay,” you say, though you’re still not convinced. “See you later.”

You hang up and turn to Spencer. He squints in the sunlight, hair blowing over his forehead. Your hand itches to reach out and push it back for him. Spencer does it himself just as you have the thought.

You clear your throat, “Hotch says to get lunch and then head back.”

“I saw a stand back there with chili cheese fries,” he says.

Spencer doesn’t know why, for once, Hotch is encouraging a break during a case, but he’s not about to fight him on it. Without a BAU-related task to do at the moment, he gets to simply be there with you. Just you and Spencer in a park, getting food.

If he thinks about it for long enough, he can almost see the both of you like this together in more natural circumstances. Maybe then, he’d be brave enough to hold your hand.

“Daydreaming about those fries, Spence?”

He looks over at you, the sun lighting you from behind, surrounding you like a halo. “No, just… thinking.”

There’s something about the way he says it, about the way his eyes are roaming your face and his voice has gone a little bit lower, scratchier, that makes your heart beat heavier.

Before you can respond, he’s leading the way to the food stand, you not far behind. He places your order and pays before you can object.

You’re stationed at one of the picnic tables in a few minutes, a splinter of wood poking the back of your thigh through your pants, but you don’t move. Not when Spencer’s shin is resting against yours beneath the table.

The platter of chili fries sits in the middle of the table, a fork in each of your hands.

“Don’t you have a statistic in there about the dangers of sharing food?” you ask.

“I do,” he says, “but I don’t particularly.. care about that right now.”

-

You get a longer break before you’re called in for the next case, which is nice. You get to be home earlier, sleep in your sheets and spend the weekend lazily.

There’s a minuscule shift between you and Spencer since the park. An ease that wasn’t there before, a string tied in neat little bows tethering the two of you together.

He’s at his desk before you every morning, and there’s always a coffee waiting for you with a small sticky note attached. Sometimes he’ll leave you a fun fact, sometimes a simple good morning.

The last note you’d gotten before this case was just a doodle of a lopsided smiley face, which you’d stuck to the corner of your computer.

You think about those notes, those coffees as you sit in the NYPD headquarters, twirling a paper cup between your hands. Not nearly as good as when Spencer makes it.

You’re sitting beside him in a conference room where Hotch has gathered the team, your ankle leaning against his.

“We aren’t any closer to finding this unsub,” Hotch says. “We’re gonna have to draw him out.”

“Undercover, huh?” Emily asks, a subtle smirk on her face.

“Yes. We know how he hunts. He looks for couples in bars, waits for them to go outside, usually a couple that’s arguing,” Hotch says, though you all already know this. “He waits for them to split up, then takes the woman. He’s deluded himself into thinking he’s doing these women a favor. Like he’s saving them.”

“Probably because they remind him of his mother, who was abused by his father, and the unsub was too weak at the time to stop it,” Rossi adds.

“He’s been targeting the same three bars on rotation, so we know where he’ll be tonight,” Hotch tells the team.

“And you want a pair of us to go undercover.. as a couple?” you ask. It’s not like you’ve never gone undercover before, but pretending to be dating someone? You’re not the best actress.

“That’s correct.”

“I actually think you and Spencer should do it,” Emily says.

“What?” Reid speaks at the same time as you do.

“You are the unsub’s type,” Emily tells you.

“Ew,” is your response.

“And I think pretty boy over here is your best match, sweetheart,” Derek adds.

“I’m not-”

“I actually think that’s a good idea,” Hotch says.

And so, it’s been decided.

There’s a short silence, and then Spencer speaks. “Are we sure this is the best way to do this?”

“It’s okay, Spence,” you tell him, laying a hand over his forearm that lays on the table, his fingers tapping the wood. His cardigan is soft under your hand, and you give his arm a gentle squeeze.

He turns to you, speaking quietly this time, “What if something- I would rather I was the one being followed. Not you.”

Your eyes soften at his words, at the way he looks down when he says them. You run your thumb back and forth against the fabric of his sweater once, twice. “I’ll be okay. You’ll be there, and everyone else. We’ll get him.”

“I know. I just don’t want him to have time to hurt you.”

Your heart pinches. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so worried, especially not in front of other people. And he isn’t even worried about himself. His concern is you.

“He won’t,” you say.

You turn back to Hotch, and he gives you a nod, “Let’s catch him.”

“And pretty boy becomes lover boy,” Morgan says.

A few hours later you’re dressed in a black mini dress and a pair of knee-high boots, a (nonalcoholic) drink in your hand and Spencer by your side. Your entire side, from shoulder to thigh, is pressed against his where you stand at the bar, warmth sinking into you.

The unsub likes to observe the bar for a while, usually picking a couple and watching them for a couple hours before making his move. That means that you’ve spent a while being Spencer’s girlfriend.

Fake girlfriend, you remind yourself.

Still, if you let yourself forget, just for a second, that you’re on a case, it feels real enough. His hand on your lower back guiding you through the crowd, his chest brushing against your back on the dance floor.

And now, his arm wrapping itself around your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your dress.

You both have earpieces in, where the team’s been communicating with you (a “nice moves, lover boy” from Derek, or “look at you two” from Emily, and even a “that dress is brilliant, pumpkin” from Penelope).

“I think we have eyes on our guy,” Hotch says now.

You’re almost disappointed when he gives you the signal to head outside. You like being with Spencer like this, and despite the fact that you’re undercover and pretending, you want to stay in it a bit longer.

You obey Hotch’s orders anyway, saying something to Spencer and then slipping out the back door that opens into an alley, Spencer on your heels.

It turns out that pretending to fight with him is the hardest part.

You end up making something up about his eyes wandering, even though you don’t think he looked at anyone else the entire night.

He plays along, defending himself and using words he knows will trigger the unsub. Spencer’s demeanor changes, making himself look more intimidating. He stands up straighter, walks you backwards until you land against the wall, his hands coming up and caging you in.

Your heart races, and not because you’re afraid. Because of how close he is, how you can smell him and feel how warm he is and see that despite his facade of anger his eyes are still unfailingly kind.

Finally, you shove him off of you and storm away. As expected, the unsub emerges out of the shadows, following you down the sidewalk and out of Spencer’s sight.

His stomach sinks. He’d been doing okay when you were beside him, when he knew he could protect you even when he’s well aware that you’re strong, one of the strongest people he knows. You don’t need him to protect you, but he wants to so badly.

Spencer can’t help himself, he speaks into the microphone attached to his cuff, “Guys, what's happening?”

“She’s okay,” Emily says. “He’s definitely following her, but he hasn't tried anything yet.”

“We need to wait for him to make contact,” comes from Hotch.

“What if he-” Spencer stars.

“We have to make this stick, kid,” Morgan tells him.

Spencer knows he’s right. It still doesn’t sit well with him, the thought of a man’s hands on you when he can’t do anything about it.

Your boots click against the pavement, Hotch’s voice in your ears telling you to keep going, that the unsub is getting closer. Just as a warning sounds in your ear, there’s a hand on your wrist.

The grip is tight, pinching your skin enough to leave a mark, but you don’t show it. It’s only seconds until the team and police officers come out of hiding and arrest him, effectively pulling his hands off of you.

Your hand circles the wrist he’d grabbed, rubbing the skin. It isn’t even a minute before Spencer finds you standing by one of the cars on scene, your face lit up by red and blue. He can feel the relief wash over him like a wave. You’re okay, alive. And so, so pretty.

“Hey, Spence,” you say when you see him walk up.

“Are you alright?” he asks, gesturing to where you hold your wrist.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a tight grip. I’ve been through worse.”

He nods. “Let me see.”

You hold out your arm, and he gently grabs your wrist and pushes your sleeve out of the way, his fingertips running over your skin, his eyes scanning it. His hands are warm where they hold you, and his skin on yours makes your stomach swirl.

“I’m okay, really.”

“I know,” he says. His eyes lift to your face, soft. “I just- I don’t want you to ever have to do that again.”

You give him a tiny smile. “It’s part of the job, Spence. Besides, I thought we made a pretty good team.”

“I don’t want to have to worry about you being safe. I want to know you are.”

Oh, you think. And you know, can hear it in the sound of his voice, that it has absolutely nothing to do with your abilities, he just cares.

You shift your hand to tangle your fingers with his, and for once, Spencer doesn’t even think of his aversion to shaking hands.

“I’m safe now,” you tell him.

His thumb traces a circle against your palm.

-

+1

The team tries to get together at least once a month. Sometimes trying different local restaurants, more often taking advantage of Rossi’s mansion and lovely backyard when the weather allows.

You’re all flexible, you have to be when you do what you do, so you’re used to rescheduling or switching things up last minute.

This time around, it’s a little too much switching.

A suspicious amount.

First, it’s JJ, saying that Henry is just being far too clingy tonight for her to be able to skip bedtime. “Will won’t be able to get him to sleep, he can be pretty stubborn,” she’d said.

And you understand, of course you do. You give her a quick hug when she leaves the office, and she tells you to ‘have fun tonight,’ with something shining in her eyes that you can’t quite place.

Then, it’s Morgan, who gives no explanation besides him holding up his phone saying he’s just received an ‘offer he can’t refuse’ and then strolling out with his jacket slung over his shoulder.

Weird, you think. Not entirely out of character for Morgan, but weird.

And ten minutes later, when Emily finishes up her paperwork, checks her phone, gasps dramatically, and says that she has to get back because Sergio was trapped in her curtains, or something, it’s even weirder.

“Curtains?” you ask as she collects her stuff.

“Can’t stay, Serg needs me!” is all she says and then she’s gone.

Another few minutes, and Penelope comes by, looking apologetic.

“Not you too,” you all but whine.

“Sorry, my pretty! Internet emergency. My friend’s boyfriend might be cheating, and I have to help a sister in need!”

“But-”

She smacks a kiss on your cheek and leaves, her heels clicking as she goes.

“Where’s she going?” Spencer asks, walking up to your desk, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Something about catching a cheater,” you say. “And JJ, Morgan, and Emily are all out.”

“What?” he asks, leaning against the edge of your desk. “That’s strange.”

“I know. It’s barely even a team dinner anymore. Just us and the fathers, I guess.”

“Actually, Rossi’s not coming. He said something about being on deadline, needing to finish a chapter.”

“Oh.”

“And Hotch said he’ll meet us there, so…”

“Just us and one father, then.”

Spencer leads you out of the bullpen, and you walk to the elevator, then outside. The restaurant isn’t too far from the office, and with spring settling in, the weather is nice enough to want to walk. So you do.

He walks on the side the closest to the road, one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, the other swinging between you. Your knuckles brush every few steps, and Spencer seems to be slowing his strides just a little bit to stay right next to you.

It makes you feel warm despite the wind biting at your cheeks.

Just as you walk up to the restaurant, both you and Spencer’s phones buzz.

You pull it out of your back pocket and find a message from Hotch: ‘Jack’s not feeling well. See you tomorrow.’

“So, just us,” you say.

“Just us,” Spencer echoes.

“Do you still want to.. I’d get it if you’d rather reschedule it to be an actual team dinner.”

“I don’t want to reschedule,” he tells you.

Before you can respond or think too hard about the soft way he’d spoken, Spencer is walking up to the door and holding it for you, the bell jingling as he tugs it open.

You blink at him, and then take the hint and walk inside. “I didn’t even know Hotch knew how to make a group chat.”

“What’s a group chat?” Spencer asks.

You sigh out a little laugh. “It’s comforting to know that there are at least some things you don’t know, Dr. Reid.”

“It’s actually pretty much impossible to know everything.”

“To know I’m better than you at something, then.”

“You’re better than me at a lot of things,” he says.

And then the hostess is greeting you, leading you to a small table pressed up against one of the windows, and depositing some menus for you to look over.

Rossi had picked the place this time, a small, family-owned Italian restaurant with classic red and white tablecloths and candles sitting atop each table lighting the place in a soft glow.

It’s funny, you think, that he’d pick a place just to not show up. Even funnier that he’d choose somewhere so… romantic. With a single rose in a vase on every table, dim lighting, mostly small tables.

The thought slips out before you can really stop it, “You know, this almost feels like a date. With just the two of us here.”

Spencer looks up from the menu when you say it, his heart thumping. You look beautiful, he thinks. You do every day, even tired or with a split lip. Beautiful whenever he sees you, but it hits him harder now.

The way the candlelight flickers across your face, your eyes sparkling in it, the strap of your top slipping slowly off your shoulder. He wants to reach out and fix it for you. To let his fingers linger.

He’d thought about being brave with you that day in the park, and maybe he still isn’t as brave as he’d like to be, but he’s brave enough to say, “Would that be such a bad thing? Us on a date, I mean.”

You search his face, almost as if you don’t believe him. Like you’d imagined it, but he’s searching your face, too. Waiting for you to respond. The toe of your shoe skims his shin.

“No, Spence. Not bad at all.”

He smiles, so gently, spreading over his face slowly, flickering like he’d been trying to suppress it and failed.

“Good. That’s— that’s good. I’d like it to be one. A date.”

“Really?”

“I know it’s customary to ask before you’re already sitting at the restaurant, but-”

You find his hand on the table, laying your palm over the back of it, cutting him off. “I’d like that, too.”

He turns his hand around and links his fingers with yours.

And just like that, you’re on a date with Spencer Reid. It feels almost natural, like this is how you’ve always been with each other, with only a small layer of nerves at the newness of it all.

You’ve been so used to keeping your crush on him to yourself that it seems like a dream to be sitting here, but it isn’t. You talk about the food, Spencer easily telling you every dish's origins. You laugh and he asks about what book you’re reading now, and you tell him and he listens.

He points out different Italian musicians playing throughout the night, you eat your food and split a dessert. He traps your ankle between his calves when your leg wanders, and you let him keep it there.

Spencer pays and you slap his wrist lightly for not letting you chip in. Then you’re walking back to the parking lot. Admittedly, you walk a lot slower this time, like you’re both dragging the evening out. This time, when your hands brush, Spencer grabs yours, and puts your joined hands in his jacket pocket.

Back at your car, you lean your back against the driver’s side door, Spencer stands not far from you.

“So we agree that they ditched us on purpose, right?” you ask him, your hand still in his now swinging between your bodies.

“Oh, absolutely.” Spencer smiles. “Though I’m not sure if we should be thanking them or getting them back for it.”

“Mmm, let ‘em sweat. I think this would have happened either way,” you say.

“Me too.” And suddenly Spencer’s face is closer to yours, only a breath away, his free hand coming up to prop himself up against your car, framing you in.

Your eyes flicker between his, and you shift a little bit closer, tugging his tie between the fingers of the hand that isn’t holding his.

“Can I?” he asks, and you simply give his tie a gentle yank and his lips are on yours.

ᯓ★

thank u so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog!! it’s what helps the most, and would mean a bunch <3

[drspencerweed]

Concept for Spencer and reader smoking weed after a hard case.

this is my brand!! weed + Spencer Reid

this became more of a blurb than a concept but uh. yea. mentions of sex as well!

also Reader tries to ‘justify’ their actions by saying they don’t smoke that much, this does not reflect me judging anyone for any drugs they do or don’t do! for the record I smoke literally all day if I’m able, so I promise this is just Reader being insecure lmao

---

Ever since you and Spencer started dating you always make sure to hang out after cases. It became a sort of post-case ritual, the lingering glances, the eventual “Your place or mine?”, him climbing into the passenger seat of your car. And of course you loved every second you spent with him, but you were beginning to miss what used to be your post-case ritual, especially post-hard cases. Especially post cases where you didn’t win. Where you didn’t save her. 

Usually, you followed these kinds of cases with a well-packed bong. But you hadn’t exactly told Spencer about this habit, and you weren’t sure exactly how he would react. But this case had been brutal, and you needed to get out your head for a little while. 

You pulled up to your apartment with Spencer next to you, your fingers intertwined. He knew you were struggling with this case. You turned to him and took a deep breath. 

“I need to tell you something.” You started. He jolted to attention, looking at you with concerned eyebrows. He nodded for you to continue. “Usually, after hard cases, I do a bit of. Unwinding. With weed.” You admitted. His eyebrows went from concerned to shocked. You quickly continued talking, not wanting him to judge you. “It’s only sometimes, and you don’t have to participate, but I definitely need it tonight and just wanted to let you know in case you didn’t want to be around.” 

“That is not what I was expecting you to say.” He said. You just shrugged at him, looking down as you played with your cuticles. For all you knew, he disapproved completely of the drug and would just break up with you here and now. “Marijuana has been studied to have anti-anxiety properties, and is used to treat anxiety disorders in many states. It makes sense that it would help you after difficult cases.” He finally said. 

“So you don’t mind?” 

“Of course not. I-actually. I’ve never tried it. So I-I’ve always been quite curious.” He said quietly. 

That was all it took for you to drag him up to your apartment and get a joint rolled. While not your usual method of smoking, you knew it would be the easiest for Spencer who had never tried it before. You talked him through how to take a hit and made sure he was inhaling correctly, and then you were passing the joint back and forth while you sat in his lap. 

Your legs were straddling his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, not even pretending to watch whatever TV show you let run in the background. You giggled as you took one of the final drags off the joint, watching Spencer watch you. His eyes were bloodshot and his mouth was set in an ever present smile, but his eyes tracked your mouth as you inhaled and exhaled smoke. 

“Like what you see?” 

“I can’t believe we’ve never done this before.” He said, finally meeting your eyes and then pulling you in for a soft kiss. “This is amazing.” He admitted, letting his head fall back against the couch. “I can feel everything and nothing at the same time.” His hands drifted over your waist, and you took another drag before putting the joint against Spencer’s lips. He inhaled quickly, and on his exhale he said, “Did you know that some studies say orgasms are better when you’re high?” 

You laughed and pulled his head up to look at you again. “Someone has a one track mind.” 

“You’re sitting in my lap.” He said, as if it explained everything. You just laughed again, as he moved forward to press kisses up the column of your throat. His insistent lips found yours and you let yourself get lost in it for a moment. His large hands roamed your back, pulling you in closer to him. 

You leaned back for a moment, letting his lips chasing you. “Let’s finish the joint and then we can test your theory.” 

[zaynezone]

You were so, totally, screwed.

In all fairness, scaring Zayne by jumping out from under his desk had seemed like a great idea at the time. Flawless, really. You'd planned it out perfectly.

What you hadn't foreseen was missing your chance and getting stuck under his desk while he joins a virtual meeting.

You can't scare him now, not in front of his very distinguished colleagues who only see him as the very distinguished Dr. Zayne. It's during this pondering that he shifts, and you hold your breath so as to not be discovered. His hand moves to rest on his knee, drumming for a moment before stopping and waving at you. You nearly gasp in shock.

The fucker knows you're down here.

You'll kill him later, already relishing in the sex ban you'll have to implement for keeping you trapped under this cramped desk with no non-embarrassing escape route. Any attempts to crawl out would be noticed instantly on his camera, and you'd really like to be able to show your face here again.

But Zayne...he has to show his face here.

The grin on your face is positively evil as your hands slowly rest on his thighs. You feel the muscle tense under your touch, shifting ever so slightly as your hands begin to slide higher.

You stop when lithe fingers take hold of your wrist, waiting patiently. You won't push after all, but Zayne is more adventurous than he seems. It's why after a moment of hesitation, he releases your wrist and guides your hand to his belt.

Of course, you won't be going easy on him. You take your time with it, slowly undoing his pants, palming his half hard cock through his boxers and licking him through the fabric until his nails nearly tear holes through the fabric of his slacks.

When you finally take him in your mouth, he sighs in relief, so quiet that only you can hear it. Still, your thirst for revenge isn't quite satiated. So when you finally get to the base of him? You stop.

His hand that was so casually waving at you earlier is now clenched into a tight fist. You manage a peak up at him, and his gaze meets yours for a single second.

Oh, how the tables turn.

[im-trash-sarah]

Levi's determination 18+ NSFW, MDNI

Leviathan, who tries again and again and again and again on repeat until he's an absolute pro at everything he does. It's so cute and amazing how he puts so much effort into everything he does! ...

Well, I guess that includes you... that explains why you're now on his lap with your legs spread wide for the???? hour now. Seriously, you're crying from the overstimulation but Levi is just so focused on getting his time down with making you cum. HE'S BASICALLY TRYING TO SPEEDRUN MAKING YOU SQUIRT WTH??!!!?!?!?!?!?!? He's so serious about being able to pleasure you well in all aspects, and he's only doing this with his fingers; he hasn't even started with his tongue, dick(s), or tail yet.

You have to beg him to snap out of it so you can have a break, which he lets you have for as long as you want; you can even stop for the night if you want. He may have only used his fingers, but your legs are shaking from how good it was. He's so embarrassed but proud at the same time as you tell him how he did a great job, but respectfully, you need some sleep. He gladly brings you to your room and sleeps peacefully with you, snuggling as much as you'd like for the night.

guys someone help me I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT LEVI AND HIS ATTRIBUTES

[melodiesz]

nsfw. little blurb for the starved barbatos fans out there.. I just know he’s a secret freak. gn! but reader is a bottom

Out of all the demons you were now familiar with in the Devildom, you were sure that Barbatos was the least likely to be skilled in bed. It wasn’t like you had anything against him — you just couldn’t imagine the stoic, always reserved servant of Diavolo as anything but strictly celibate.

It only took your tear-stained face being pressed into a mattress with the demon in-question’s cock filling you for you to rethink that statement. If you could think at all, that is, with his relentless thrusts reducing your brain to mush.

Pounding you until you were crying, questions flying through your head of how barbatos, who seemed about as sexual as a rock was fucking the soul out of your body. You were face down with your ass up, desperately clutching the sheets when you had nowhere to run from the overwhelming pleasure.

It was a shock how wrong you were about his skill; almost as shocking as that morning, where you went to him to complain about how pent-up you were, not at all expecting him to offer to take care of you himself.

Stripping you like he’d done this hundreds of times before, spending what felt like eternity prepping and sliding a pillow under you for comfort when he finally folded you under him.

His thrusts were precise, slamming into that spot so deep inside you over and over again until your eyes were rolling back, kissing down your neck and spine in a gentle contrast to the way he was brutally rearranging your guts.

He didn’t stop until you came so many times that your vision was going white, like he was trying to make sure you never felt desperate again. By the time he finally let up, exhaustion hit you so hard that you passed out almost immediately.

When you woke up the next morning there was a tray of freshly cooked breakfast being placed on the nightstand beside you along with some of his signature tea. He was still in his pyjamas, a laid-back sight of him that you didn’t normally get the pleasure of seeing.

He urged the cup to your lips, smiling at how you easily opened them for him. “To help your voice after all that screaming you did last night,” he teased, causing you to quickly cough out the tea in surprise all over the freshly changed sheets.

He tutted, wiping your lip in a way that felt strangely sensual. “What a mess, now I’ll have to change these again. Say, why don’t we have some fun first?”

It was at that moment that you decided; you might need to rethink your view on Barbatos.

a/n: sorry for slow uploads this week, I’m on vacation! Hope everyone had a great holiday, love u all! <33

[m0rn1ngstar0664]

⛓ General NSFW Headcanons ⛓

General NSFW HC’s of the Demon Bros | 1.6k words

CW: Detailed smut, dominance, submission, sadism, oral (reader receiving), tail sex mention, demonic anatomy, cockwarming, pet play (Satan’s part), sex toys, dacryphilia mention, diphallia (two penises), food play, size kink, possessive sex, pegging mention, aphrodisiac mention, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, edging, yandere tendencies (Belphegor’s part)

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Lucifer:

♡ I think a lot of people agree that Lucifer is a dom, and he is, but he might be more on the softdom side. He cares a lot about MC, and Lucifer would go great lengths to make sure they’re comfortable. But holy is his drive high. If he isn’t buried head to toe in paperwork, he’ll be wanting to bend you over his table in his study or over the edge of his bed. If he is busy, you can always sit in his lap and try to stay still anyways.

♡ Of course, he isn’t called a sadist for nothing. He is a brat tamer and is more than willing to punish you if you misbehave or purposefully ignore his instructions. It would depend on how badly you annoy him. But you’ll always be crawling out of his study covered in his bite marks and hickeys, a reminder of your disobedience.

♡ Given the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup incident, it’s proven that he’s most likely a switch. Referring to MC as “master”, blushing when you pull him into your lap in Lesson 58 (I think) etc.)

♡ Lucifer loves it when you take charge and boss him around. He’ll definitely make a lot of snarky comments and sound annoyed when you try to tell him what to do, but he’ll want nothing more than for you to put him in his place. Tie him up, be rough, whatever you want. Mark him up, make him yours.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Mammon:

♡ Mammon is most definitely a switch leaning sub. No matter what position it is, he’ll be whining and begging for you to let him finish by the end of it.

♡ On a similar note, he’s greedy AF. He can’t get enough of you, drawing out orgasm after orgasm out of you just to hear your sweet voice moan his name. He would get so cocky and whisper how dirty you sound right in your ear, withdrawing his fingers from your hole.

♡ This would apply to oral as well. He is obsessed with the way you taste, the way you react, and especially the way you sound. When your thighs shake and clamp around his head, that’s when he urges you to grab his hair and grind up in his face, encouraging you to get as greedy as him.

♡Has many fantasies of bending you over the hood of his car in his bedroom and over his pool table. Anywhere semi-public enough would drive the Avatar of Greed crazy. This would include an empty classroom or closet at RAD, backseat of his car in an empty parking lot, or the bathroom of a club at a party he’s at.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Leviathan:

♡ A complete sub, literally so pathetic and needy. Even more so than Mammon, surprisingly. Even doing so much as breathing in his vicinity will get him worked up.

♡ Is incredibly sensitive. In his demon form, touching his tail or horns in any way will get him finishing in his pants. Which he tries to hide and calls himself a worthless gross otaku while doing so.

♡ It’s practically canon that Levi is into degradation, so call him pathetic, call him needy and desperate for his master. He would absolutely die happy if you manhandled him to your bed or on his floor. What’d make it even better is if you cosplayed as any of his favourite characters and roleplayed.

♡ It’s a common headcanon in the fandom that Leviathan would have two cocks due to being like a sea serpent. The stimulation for both of you would be insane, and he’d be so shy to show you during his first time. I highly doubt he’d judge you if you had any weird fantasies given that he’s a hardcore otaku. So he would be down to try using his tail on you, that is if he doesn’t pass out every time you try bringing it up.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Satan:

♡ Has a pretty damn high sex drive, enough to rival Asmodeus and Lucifer. His small arc of him tutoring the MC proved that he was down bad for them, wanting them in front of an unconscious Mammon in the library where literally anyone could’ve walked in on them, or in his bedroom where Beel was trapped as a cat and asleep.

♡ He’d be really into teasing you, always playfully mocking you for getting worked up so quickly. If you try teasing him back, he may or may not get a little bratty towards you. Given Satan’s route in the new game, he is very, very familiar with the concept of edging. 😭

♡ Much like Lucifer, Satan would be into cockwarming. So while he’s reading, he’d want you sitting in his lap looking pretty while he reads his book. Or he’ll make you read the book, thrusting up into you to try and make you stutter, and if you do, he makes you reread the paragraph entirely again.

♡ Satan would most definitely want you or him wearing cat ears and a tail. You can make him meow for you multiple times in the story, so the bedroom wouldn’t be that different. The key to making Satan sub would have to be cat ears, so put them on and he’ll be SO affectionate. Rubbing into the crook of your neck, making whatever noises similar to purring, leaving love bites on your chest… the possibilities are endless.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Asmodeus:

♡ Asmodeus is 100% the freakiest out of the bunch, no matter what. Whenever, wherever, doesn’t matter what way either. There isn’t much he’d say no to. However, anything that could permanently damage your skin or his would be a huge no. Asmo treasures both you and him, so the only marks he’ll allow would be any hickeys or bite marks, proudly letting everyone know who he belongs to.

♡ I feel like even if he’s on the bottom, he’d be a power bottom. Wanting to make you feel so damn good. His hands on your hips while whispering praise and sweet nothings in your ear with that sweet voice of his…

♡ Will not hesitate to introduce toys in the bedroom, and will encourage you to try them out as well. Having him wear something like a vibrator while he’s out in public could go two ways: He has a straight face most of the time, cooing at you mockingly as he thinks it’s cute you actually thought you could catch him off guard. Or he purposefully moans loudly and makes lewd faces, calling out your name. Either way, he ends up teasing you badly.

♡ Would love it if you dressed him up pretty with a nice dress and pretty makeup, only to ruin it with his tears as you punish him. Bonus points if it’s in a public area where you two could get caught.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Beelzebub:

♡ Would never get tired going down on you. He does it with such fervor too. Tasting you on his tongue would arouse him greatly, and he might even be able to cum untouched. His head buried between your legs would be more than enough for him.

♡ Beel’s definitely into food play, of course. He’ll lick whipped cream or honey off of you, and if you were really in the mood, Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup. You might ask if you could stack donuts on it or wrap it in fruit roll up and he would agree initially, but he’d soon become actually hungry. You could always try tying him up to prevent him from trying to eat the food off of him. But no promises he’ll stay still in the bondage.

♡ I could see Beelzebub wanting you in the locker room after attending one of his Fangol games. He is sweaty, hungry, but overall craving you still. His scent and muscular body will only drive you closer to him as he takes you from behind to work off the last amount of adrenaline.

♡ Size kink. The man’s 6’4” approximately. Beel would try to be as gentle as possible with you, but when you feel so damn good, he’ll have trouble holding back. He’d never hurt you, of course. The aftercare would be so sweet as he makes sure you two are both well fed and clean before you cuddle on his bed. Walking is a problem for another day.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

Belphegor:

♡ He may be really needy, but he’d be a little jerk about it. Belphie would make you work for it, so take charge and make him moan and gasp in that soft voice of his, you could even make him beg for you to move or do something and make him regret for acting like such a brat.

♡ Belphegor still has some yandere tendencies, so if you made him jealous or really annoyed in any way, you wouldn’t see an ounce of drowsiness in his eyes as he pounds you into his bed or the attic’s bed. He might humiliate and degrade you a bit for teasing him like that, chuckling lowly as you cum the third time on his cock.

♡ Most of the time, sleepy sex is what’s common between you two. So in the middle of the night or after you two just woke up, he’d be lazily rutting his hips against your behind or you stroking his cock languidly as he lets out such cute, sleepy moans.

♡ In addition to his bratty attitude, he’d quietly thrust up into you and warn you constantly to stay quiet since his twin was asleep just twelve feet away from you two. Belphie says that, but continues thrusting up into you, hitting that sweet spot and making you nearly cry out. If you ever want payback, do the same. Urge him to stay silent as you rut into him with your cock/strap. Shove his face into the pillow if he gets too loud and you know he’ll be drooling all over it once you’re finished with him.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────

[girlwithadragonheart]

I need to be passed around the Z-Team like a blunt

[zephyrchama]

You hit post, uploading your selfie to Devilgram for all to see. The number of haters and mean messages had been increasing for some time. Nasty anti-human comments flooded your notifications on the daily, getting worse every time Asmodeus referenced you in his story or Diavolo mentioned you in a speech.

Your image caption read, "btw when you're being mean to me, this is who you're being mean to."

No hashtags. People would find it anyway.

It was a normal photo. You thought the light was kind of flattering and you captured a decent angle. You didn't look special, though. You were center frame, in your everyday RAD uniform, making a peace sign with your fingers. You hoped most demons understood what a peace sign was.

Beside you were the Seven Rulers of Hell. Their presence looked so relaxed that any common demon who was used to their cold and untouchable visages would immediately do a double-take.

Lucifer had his hand on your shoulder in a gentle yet possessive grip. Next to him was Mammon, reaching over to put his sunglasses on your face. Beelzebub rested his chin on the crown of your head as Asmodeus gave the two of you bunny ears with his fingers. Leviathan poked out from under your arm, which was linked around Satan's elbow. The top half of Belphegor's head barely made it in the frame. He was crouched under Lucifer, grabbing on to the side of your shirt and partially blocked by your hand that was taking the selfie.

It was a sweet image with a crystal clear hidden message: Don't mess with our human.

[vikwritesshit]

a/n: let me know if yall want me to do the younger brothers! hope u enjoy >_<!

cw: fluff, suggestiveness, mentions of sex in mammon's part, pre-relationship -> relationship

scent marking - older brothers

what if demons had the same scenting habits as cats? i like to think demons have the same scent points/habits as cats do. they have scent glands on their face, hands, and hips.

lucifer

- he's slick w it

- bumps into you in the halls at RAD whenever you've been spending more time with your classmates, his hip tapping yours

- his hand constantly lingers on yours when handing you something

- occasionally brushes your hair back, letting his knuckles trace your cheekbone

- he doesn't even realize he's doing it at first, he just wants needs to have everyone know who you belong to

- once you're together he's not subtle though

- he'll tug you into an empty classroom or hall just to nuzzle his face against yours and walk away like nothing happened

- he loves when you sit on his lap. he will offer a little massage but dont be fooled hes actually scenting your shoulders and back oops

- if his hands start to wander it's not his fault, he needs every part of you to smell like him.

~~

You were lying in bed with Lucifer, wrapped in his arms. It was a rare day where no work had to be done, and you made sure the brothers knew to not bother you - a lazy morning was in order.

Every so often, softly, as if to keep you from noticing, Lucifer would press his cheek into your head a little harder. Or shift his position, his hands dragging across your skin a little unnecessarily. You knew what he was doing, and while you couldn't smell whatever it was he was leaving behind yourself, you knew everyone else could (including Lord Diavolo. That was an unfortunate conversation), and you felt a bit of pride within yourself at the fact you had the third strongest demon in the Devildom wrapped around your finger.

"Something on your mind?" His voice rumbled deep within his chest, right below your head.

You poked his chest with your finger, lightly, "You."

"Is that so? What about me?" His voice had a teasting lilt to it. His hand was moving back and forth over your arm.

"You're scenting me."

"..I am. Is that an issue?" His hand was stopped now, resting on your shoulder.

"No, I actually think it's cute," Part of you was only saying that to call him cute, but it was still the truth nonetheless.

He sighed, hand running the length of your arm again, "I'm afraid you're the cute one, my dear."

His voice had a note of finality to it, but you still felt his smile against your hair.

mammon

- loser

- at first he won't scent you just because he's THE great mammon and he would NEVER bother with scenting a mere human okay🙄

- give it like three weeks suddenly he's moping because you smell like beel and on that matter why are you spending so much time with him anyways when your first man is right here??

- will say he's doing it out of principle, that of course he has to scent you. your first ever pact was with him and people need to know, mc!!!

- NO this is NOT cuddling, ok? he is simply resting his cheek on your shoulder because of... reasons, ok?!!

- probably never drops the tsundere act about it, just because it actually means so much to him that you let him scent you and he can't let you know that i'm afraid (you know anyways, of course)

- absolutely likes rubbing his face against your neck/shoulder during sex

- if you ask him to scent you be prepared for the ego boost he'll get with it

~~

You were on a mission. You had spent the day out with Asmo to shop and gossip, and during your outing he had offhandedly mentioned how he couldn't detect Mammon's 'stench' on you as much. And, well, that simply won't do at all.

"Mammon!" You barged into his room, where the demon in question was laying bed, scrolling on DevilTok no doubt.

He jumped at your exclamation, "Oi! You don't gotta yell, I'm right here!" Despite his words, he was already opening his arms for you to join him. You did, jumping ungracefully into the empty spot next to him.

You moved to sit on his lower stomach, straddling him, "I want you to scent me. Asmo said it's fading," Not quite, but telling him what Asmo actually said would probably cause an argument between them. You just wanted to cuddle your demon.

"W-What? You do?" His hands had found his way to your hips by now, squeezing lightly as his face got red, "I mean - of course you want The Great Mammon to share his scent with you!"

You rolled your eyes as he sat up, arms wrapped around you to keep you from falling, and a boyish grin on his face as he whispered,

"Where do I start?"

leviathan

- he's so nervous to scent you but like he really wants to

- you REEK of mammon and asmo and he wants to be the one you smell like💔💔

- still won't do it though. it'd be so obvious what he's trying to do, and the mere idea of you not wanting him to scent you, and consequently reacting badly, is enough to send him spiraling

- the most you'll get pre-relationship is brushing against his fingers when he hands you a controller

- even after you're together he's so nervous. why would you pick a yucky otaku??

- you'll probably have to make the first move and forcibly rub his hands on you (where they go is up to you wink wink)

- his tail probably has scent glands on it too, he wants you to cuddle up with it so bad please indulge him (and bring tissues for the inevitable nosebleed)

- no matter how long you've been together, he's still in awe that you want to share a scent with him

~~

"Levi~" You cooed from the demon's bathtub/bed. The otaku had been at his computer for a few hours now, and while you didn't mind, you still wanted attention. You're only human, after all.

He perked up at your voice, moving one side of his headset off to hear you better, "I'm listening, what's up?"

You got up, moving to stand behind him, "I was just wondering - all your brothers have at least tried to scent me, but you haven't. Why is that?"

He stiffened, immediately fumbling a kill on his game. He fidgeted as he answered, "I mean, I-I don't know, why would you want to share a scent with a gross demon like me?"

You expected that answer. Sighing, you leaned over his shoulder to pause the game, "I'm dating you, Levi. I like you, that's why. How else are the demons at RAD supposed to know I'm taken?"

His headset fell as he turned to face you wide-eyed, "You want people to know we're together?"

You sighed again, harder this time, and leaned down to his level, "Yes, Levi. And I think smelling like you is a good way to tell them."

You grabbed his face in your hands and brought your cheek to his, rubbing softly. He let out something between a sigh and a whine.

Oh, this would be fun.

[starboymammon]

diavolo: i’m gonna be king soon

diavolo’s father :

[mwphisto]

Sylus’ eye glows when he’s horny. 

It had taken you a little bit to piece that information together, having been too engulfed in him to see the whole picture. Hands and mouths everywhere, clothes shed and sheets nearly pushed entirely off the bed with all of the movement.

You had much more pressing matters to focus on, not quite processing the fact that the aether core in his eye was a burning beacon every time he looked at you. 

Though, Sylus had restraint. He kept his emotions on a tight leash, never quite revealing where he was until you had already fallen head first into his carefully placed trap. Except for this time, because even someone like Sylus could suffer from little blunders here and there. “Luke, Kieran, you’re back quite early.”

His voice was gruff, you sat a little ways down from him on the couch, pulling at your clothes to make sure they were in their typical place. 

“We accomplished your tasks pronto, boss-man!” Luke plopped down in one of the arm chairs, his proud smile hidden behind his mask. “Yeah, you seemed pretty stressed earlier, so we wanted to take them off your plate real quick.”

Kieran leaned against the back of the chair Luke sat on, both seemingly oblivious to their boss’ frustration. “You’ve got some hard workers, Sy.” You fan the flames, peeking down at his carefully crossed legs. You had been grinding on his lap no less than a minute ago, face hot and lips swollen from his countless kisses.

One glance up and you could see your teeth indents still lingering on his neck. “That… I do.” He dared to glance at you, tips of his ears still red, his eye glowing a near neon crimson. The twins carried on with their ramblings all the while. 

You felt a bubble of laughter swelling in your chest, how the twins could be so unaware of their boss’ debauched state was a mystery to you. I mean really, his eye was glowing. The laughter in your chest died as quickly as it threatened to spill.

His eye was glowing? 

You felt your face grow hotter, squirming slightly against the cushion as you mulled that one thought over and over in your mind. You stared at him, nearly unblinking, heart pounding. In all the months you had been with him, you had never realized you held such crucial information. Not that you’d ever use it against him in a serious sense. 

But oh, Sylus was so impossible to tease. And now? Now you have this.

Of course you wouldn’t dive head first into it, you’d test him first. You needed to see if your hypothesis was correct. If you worked him up, then his aethercore would react? You had to assume that was the case, but you’d feel quite silly if it wasn’t. Maybe it flared up when he was upset, or annoyed? But you had never noticed that in battle… 

“Are you okay?” You blink, unaware that Sylus was now staring directly back at you, that damn eye still bright. “No.” zero time to think, and if it meant the twins got out of your hair faster. “Boss-lady isn’t feeling the best, you two. I’ll be taking her to bed…” He struggles to pull his gaze away from you, briefly looking between the twins. “Thank you for handling things so quickly.”

His tone was final, not daring to move from the couch until both boys understood the underlying message and quickly bid you both a good night. 

“Someone’s daydreaming.” Sylus murmurs the second they are gone, unfolding his legs just as you crawl back over to him. “More like fantasizing.” You settle again, wiggling against the warmth of his lap before wrapping your arms around his neck. 

A soft groan rumbles his chest at the contact, and you see the light flare in his eye. “I’ll remember to give them extra tasks next time.” He leans forward to close the distance, but you can’t help but pull back. Utterly glued to his aethercore, mind reeling with the fact that it so carelessly displays his desires.

Maybe you should be glad it only glows for you… 

“Someone is still lost in her head, hmm?” His hands grip your hips, sliding down towards the swell of your ass. “Or is something weighing on her mind?” You mentally curse yourself for being so bad at hiding things from him. The carefully crafted plot to test your theory and use it as a way to tease him was dying right before you.

“Can I ask you something?” You’re moving closer, eyes dragging away from his eye to look at his lips. Lips that are swollen because of you, a sense of pride swelling in your chest. “Anything.”

“Does your aether core… act up when you’re aroused?” He blinks at you, a little stunned before a warm laugh rumbles his chest. “My aether core…” he starts, dragging you impossibly closer. “…allows me to see what others desire. It’s only fair that it can’t help but give away what I desire most.” Your noses brush, breaths mingle.

“It only ever glows for you.”

It’s 2am and I crave pho so bad. But I only have “instant pho” and I want the real shit not the “I didn’t have time to pack lunch for work” kind 🙄 I guess I know what I’m getting for lunch today 😵‍💫

[beybuniki]

i just know airports hate to see them coming

[twinklesilverstar]

Obey Me, Kinktober 2025

Since I like to cause myself pain, I'm also trying to do 31 days of Kinks with different Obey Me characters. Or at least what I thought of when I saw the prompts and who I thought of...

I will do my best to tag them with triggers as I know not every kink appeals to everyone. As with all my posts, the actual fic will be under the cut on the post for that day and the trigger warnings will be above that.

So if it's you're thing, have fun. If not, look after yourself and don't read, or if you become triggered while reading it, back out. Your own mental health is more important than fictional smut.

This post will also be the Masterlist for the month, and as of today (30 Sept) I have 15 of them written. So I might get 30 done...

Minors, Do not engage as this stuff ain't for you.

Overstimulation - Beelzebub

Blowjob - Diavolo

Audio Voyeurism - Diavolo (With a side of Lucifer)

Creampie - Leviathan

Clothed Sex - Asmodeus

Spanking - Satan

Hate Sex - Mephisto

Sweat - Belphegor

Car Sex - Mammon

Cold - Barbatos

Bondage - Lucifer

Aftercare - Lucifer

Hands - Simeon

Nipple Play - Solomon

Thigh Riding - Beelzebub

Massage - Raphael

Lotion - Asmodeus

Mask - Satan

Cock warming - Leviathan

Ribbons - Simeon

Somnophilia - Belphegor

First time - Raphael

Service top - Barbatos

Closet - Mephisto

Breeding - Mammon

Pearl Necklace - Satan

Double Penetration - Leviathan

Sex toy - Solomon & Barbatos

[tentypos]

“GIRLS”

a college au! feat. denki k.

wc: 2.5k

mdni 😴

“...girls that's mean just for fun, i like girls who make love, but i like girls that like to fuck, ”

starting track...

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

.....

"she doesn't like you, y'know."

denki kaminari gasped semi-sarcastically, like its obvious that you don't like him and anyone with eyes can see that but it still shocking to hear out of his best friend's mouth.

jirou turns to him with barely concealed mirth in her eyes and she looks up from her phone where she'd been texting momo, asking for her whereabouts.

they were at a party, a sleazy rich kid house party, one of momo's friend's sisters' or something like that. the kind that involved lots of expensive alcohol, shitty bass music, and sweaty hot rich kids that did too much coke and no survival instincts or a general sense of humiliation. one guy had already thrown up twice, two girls had passed out, someone's boyfriend had punched someone else and denki was absolutely fucking loving it.

he and jirou had smoked some good shit with hanta after pregaming and had enter the party at its pinnacle, completely crossfaded. the good kind that makes you feel like hot shit, like you're the baddest on the planet, and that you could fuck anyone you wanted if you tried hard enough.

that was about two, maybe three, hours ago.

he hits the vape he stole from jirou and scrunches his face at her.

"where even is momo?"

he's chosen to dodge the topic. the topic of you.

he only knows you as one of momo's ex talking stages. you run in the same social circles mostly and somehow, you're still amicable, friendly infact, its some weird sapphic thing that denki doesn't get. how you're friends with jirou, denki really doesn't get. like how can jirou be friends with her girlfriend's ex-situation?

well that's what he thought.

until he met you.

and wow.

you're across the kitchen from him now, chatting it up with some guy you just met, and he's laughing at something you said because you have this effortless wit and charm about you that everyone in your vicinity can sense. it rolls off you in waves, your aura is so attraction, so is your hair, and your eyes, and your smile, and the dress you're wearing-

and now you're looking at him, or maybe at jirou, yeah never mind, you're looking at jirou, and before he knows it his best friend is whacking the back of his neck.

"you're staring," she teases in a singsong voice, fucking annoying habit that she stole from him and just for that he snatches her drink from her and downs it in one gulp. "hey, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

denki fake gags slightly before smiling all teeth "you never answered my question, when's your girlfriend getting here?" jirou rolls her eyes at his obvious diversion from the topic "i want her to make me that weird drink she makes with the tequila.... and i'm pretty sure i left my lighter in her car."

"momo won't care y'know." she looks at him with full seriousness and nods in your direction. "you should be more worried about how you're gonna talk to her."

denki says nothing in reply, only sighs and send jirou an affirmative hum so that she knows he's not being pissy and ignoring her.

his eyes cut to you again, the guy you were talking to has gone back to the friends he came with and you're pouring yourself a drink.

and jirou was right, by the way. at first you didn't like him, he laughs too loud at his own jokes, bums cigs off of everyone and everytime you've seen him in passing, at parties like this or nights at the club when jirou's band plays, he's always chatting someone up.

girls of all kinds, tall girls, small girls, girls that do drugs, girls with dicks, blondes, brunettes, gingers, white girls, black girls, brown girls.

you wondered about him. there's gotta be something that he's doing right, because from what you've heard from momo his cool guy persona is simply that, a persona, and he's actually a massive loser who spends most of his time playing pokemon go or holed up in his room watching anime. so how he can pull so many baddies, most of whom speak of him fondly, is a mystery to you.

but damn, he is cuteeee.

like, cracked, horny, stoner, twink, that would probably beg for it, cute.

and you're obsessed.

that's the real reason why you've been throwing shade at him all night, making sly biting comments, getting into dumb senseless arguments, you're playing with him, working him up slowly, and he's enjoying it.

but contrary to popular belief, denki is not the sleazebag everyone thinks he is. sure he's had a few flings with a few friends, drunken nights never spoken of again, and there was that one time where a girl he slept with lied to him about having a boyfriend. but like, aside from that, he's not like horrible.

and momo is his friend, and idk, isn't flirting with her ex kinda weird, and won't you think its weird that he's flirting with you, and omg, what if you think its weird??, and you actually don't want anything to do with him, and this highly charged game made of mean banter and heated stares, is actually just that.

a game.

and he's been reading all the signals wrong, and you actually don't want him, and he's gonna have to jerk off so hard tomorrow morning to forget about you, because the look you gave him after you called him a senseless fucking idiot for spilling vodka on the counter early was sooo hot and he-

"you're spiralling."

jirou rolls her shoulder and starts riffling through her jacket pockets, probably looking for the vape denki has concealed in his right hand. she pauses and looks at the blonde before sighing. "momo's here. she's got your lighter." she gets up off the counter and pauses. "and maybe drink something before you smoke, you look like you're about to vomit all over the fuckin' floor."

"you dirty bitch, i am not nervous, i swear you're so-" jirou leaves him in the kitchen with a resounding cackle and goes out into the main house to find her girlfriend.

the sound of jirous laughter calls your attention over to denki, who's attention you already had, he'd been counting the piercings on your right ear, and a smirk creeps onto your face, as you pick up your cup and make your way over to him.

"do you have a staring problem?" straight to the point, your voice so close to his ear it makes him jump. "huh, oh, what?" he splutters "staring? me?? why would i be staring at you, of all people?"

the red on his cheeks makes you snort and you regard his fake non-chalant lean against the kitchen counter.

"well that's what i'm trying to work out," you say as you inch closer practically caging him in, still keeping direct eye contact.

his breath hitches slightly as his eyes lock onto your own, determined to win whatever game it is your playing, despite the twitch in his jeans.

you're so close you practically taste his breath. he smells like bud, expensive foreign perfume and bubblegum. your hands splayed either side of his hips creep closer and closer.

denki can hear the gulp he takes when your hands finally make contact with his body, your thumbs just slightly grazing his outer thighs, he thinks he might actually have a fucking heart attack or something.

he keeps his eyes on yours, but trying to centre himself in your gaze seems to have been the wrong decision to make because the way you tilt your head and smile so innocently, like you don't know what you're doing, is sending him to space. and it's your smile that makes him drop his eyes entirely to the curve of your lips and blink, just for a second.

you notice immediately and let out an obnoxious 'ha!' before reaching up and plucking the joint that he had tucked behind his ear, and yeah it was part of the fit, the pink rolling paper matched his pink shoelaces, before taking a step back from the blonde.

he responds to your laugh with a scoff and a roll of his eyes which makes your smile grow even wider. you hide this as best you can by taking a sip of your drink effectively finishing it. he looks at you, wide amber eyes regarding you curiously, like he's a puppy dog awaiting instruction.

"you wanna go out back?" you smile cheekily brandishing your prize, "go smoke this baby before jirou gets back?"

he sniffs and stands at his full height, stuffing his hands in his back pockets before nodding to the exit. and you lead the way to the garden with a giggle.

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

"it's not my fault. you're the poser walking around with a joint and no lighter." as you finally stamp out then end of the joint. you'd just had to beg some snotty marlboro gold smoking guy for the use of his lighter. "honestly it was more of an accessory than a zoot, you didn't even roll it well."

"you're so mean to me," denki flushes, honest to god his voice sounding more like a whimper then anything else.

you scoff at him.

you're not mean, this guys just an idiot, generally easy to make fun of, and has the most adorable reactions whenever you take the piss out of him. you can't help yourself. he's so easy practically throwing himself at you, demanding all of your attention all night and then whining like a kicked puppy and retreating back to hide behind jirou when you don't give him the response he's looking for.

"oh, i'm sorry," you ask soflty and the change in attitude gives him whiplash. "are you alright, denki?" he's growing crossed eyed as he watches your lips getting closer to his.

his knees buckle and he clears his throat with a weak smile, "yeah, just uh, my iron deficiency."

you pull away to raise your eyebrow about to make a sarcastic remark, when he surges forward and captures your lips in his. your hands travel up the back of his neck, and the way you thread your fingers through his hair makes him groan into your mouth. you push him backwards, pining him against the cold stone wall, and he just takes it, lets you control the momentum of the kiss, like he's in the middle of a storm just being thrown around and carried by the waves, and he's fucking loving every second of it.

you swear once you break for air, your lips plump, and wet, and juicy, and soft, and he's already diving back in, he needs more of you. more of your taste, fuck, you taste so good, your lips are so soft and syrupy against his, he feels like he's melting into to your hands.

"careful," you murmur directly into his ear and he keens as you grip his hair tight and tilt his head back to give provide acces to his bare neck.

"please, please, please, please, fuck."

you tug harshly on his blonde locs, his eyes fluttering open at the feeling as you hold his gaze. "what do you want denki? use your words."

he can't think of how to reply, not with your right hand itching at his scalp and your left hand drawing circles on the skin above his waistband. "oh god, i don't- i don't even know- i- fuck."

your left hand has dropped, finger only slightly grazing the front of his jeans but it's enough for him to whine so prettily in your ear and cant his hips upwards into your palm.

"fuck, please-"

you cut him off by mashing your lips into his, he accepts gratefully pouring every inch of his desire into your mouth.

"you're so desperate."

he's nodding, he wants you so bad, your hand feels so good even through the layers of fabric covering his most sensitive parts, but its like his skin is on fire, and the only thing that can put it out is your touch. his hands run along your torso, his finger only just brushing over your nipples, enough to make you gasp into him, as he wraps his arms around your body to deepen the kiss.

as good as this feels, the sounds he's making, the whimpers leaving his lips as he grinds into your hand, are increasing in volume and your entirely conscious of the fact that you are outside, out the open, for anyone to hear or see.

you hiss out his name, but just hearing your voice turns him on more and you have to grip his face with you fingers for him to stop moving and pay attention.

"if you want me to keep going," punctuated by a squeeze to his jaw, "then- look at me when i'm talking to you, then you're gonna have to shut up." your gaze is so intense he's nodding before he's even fully comprehended the words you've said.

his pretty amber eyes roll back into his head as your hand finally slips underneath his boxers and you grasp his hot, sticky, dick with your cold soft hands. "oh wow," you snicker, "you're so messy."

your words make denki whine, silenced by a stern look before he pouts. "what so you can talk but i can't even-, oh fuck-" you squeeze him, the weight heavy in your hands.

"yeah, because you're leaking all over my hand."

he holds in his whine this time cussing under his breath and looking at you. his pretty face obscured by strands of hair all wild and messy sticking up at odd angles. his lips are pink and swollen, drool threatening to spill out of his mouth, cheeks flushed.

"that's not fair," he hisses at you but you remain largely unbothered by his attitude as you thumb his tip. "you're teasing."

"i'm not doing anything, you're the one that can't keep it together."

"i-" he starts but you pick up speed and cover his mouth with your free hand so he's free to buck and whine all he wants.

"look at you, are you gonna finish like this? i've barely even touched you."

its like your words are directly fuelling the grind of his hips, he humps against you furiously, drool spilling all down his face, soiling that hand as well. like he can't help but make a mess in all directions.

you can tell he's close when his eyes start fluttering and his body starts twitching crazily.

your hand drops from his face, quickly wiping the drool onto his tshirt before snaking your way back up and applying light pressure to the base of his neck.

"thank you, thank you, thank you-"

that does it for him as he comes with a whine of your name, followed by jagged breath and the crazy stutter in his hips.

you give him a second to catch his breath before you start tearing into him about the mess he's made and about how he better not have gotten any cum on your dress.

"always complaining about something, i swear," he rolls his eyes and before you can bite back he slips your cum soiled fingers into his mouth and runs his tongue along each individual finger before giving a hard suck. you watch him mouth slightly agape, and the pulsing heat in between your thighs makes itself apparent to you.

"you are such a slut." he grins mouth full and you press down on his tongue. "you wanna get outta here?"

...end of playback

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