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incognit0slut · 6 months

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MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

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standfucker · 4 months

Text

Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Crocodile)

"Cold Blooded"

Characters: Crocodile

Reader: GN

Word Count: 3.2k

CW: smoking, mildly suggestive, reader has body mods

Summary: “Come on, Sir. If you’re so upset about the money, I could give it back. I don’t really need it,” you roll your eyes on the ‘really,’ “but I don’t intend on walking away empty-handed. You understand. Us cold-blooded types get what we want, right?”

-Thanks to @quinloki for beta'ing as my usual beta, @zoros-sheath, got sick. (Love you both, glad you're on the mend, Mama.)

Ao3 Link

Wealth was not Sir Crocodile’s ultimate goal, his burgeoning ambitions far grander than mere riches. But the vast quantity of treasure that had been stolen from him was not something he could ignore. Civil wars needed funding, and with over half of his hoard disappeared overnight–a feat that should be physically impossible–he couldn’t make the payment on the firearms he had shipped out.

He sends a pair of Officer Agents to take care of it, neither of whom report back. In the radio silence, he sends another, stronger duo this time. They also seem to vanish. Fed up, he finally sends his best, Mr. 1 and Miss Doublefinger.

Instead of hearing back from them, Crocodile finds the six bodies of his strongest Officer Agents dumped unceremoniously outside of his smoking room, beaten to shit and unconscious, but alive.

You're waiting for him inside, an unassuming masked figure picking through his humidors like you own the place.

"You picked a beautiful country to play with,” you say without looking up, inspecting an expensive cigar. “I just love the landscape of Alabasta...reminds me of home."

For a minute, he just stares, mentally running through the list of people he knows in the underworld who can both pull off a heist like that and beat his best assassins bloody. Your lavish jewelry suggests affluence, his eye especially drawn to the gold bracelet on your wrist. There’s a huge ruby mounted onto the band that’s jogging his memory in a bad way. You keep talking in the meantime.

"Sorry to invade on your private time. I understand the necessity of a good smoke break, but you wouldn’t grace me with your presence, so I had to take matters into my own hands."

You tuck the cigar behind your ear, take off your mask, and turn to face him. There are some differences from your bounty poster: You’ve changed your hair, and there’s now a gnarled scar stretching diagonally over your face, narrowly missing your eye. But the snakebite piercings are the same, as are the small, transdermal spikes implanted above your eyes, painted gold to represent your namesake.

“You’re the Thief King, Sidewinder,” Crocodile says slowly. Even with the facial scar, you’re beautiful, skin reflecting the moonlight coming through the window.

You smile at his recognition. “In the flesh.”

“It’s rare for you to leave the New World.”

“Seems you've heard a bit about me.” You look surprised at that.

“You’re a Devil Fruit user, but since you prefer to use Haki, little is known about your ability," Crocodile says, and your eyes widen. "Beyond stealing, your motives are a mystery, as you don’t engage in power struggles, nor do you rule any territory. The lack of land means no one knows where you keep your spoils.”

Of course he's heard of you. He knows the shock is an act, too. Sure enough, your expression relaxes into a casual smile. Crocodile bites down harder on his cigar. You’re notorious for targeting powerful people and getting away with it, but he'll be damned if you make a fool of him.

Crocodile takes off his jacket and tosses it onto a lounge chair. Cracking his neck, he starts to approach you. "Here are your options, thief," he says. "You can return what you've stolen willingly. Or, I can peel the nails from your fingers and rip the teeth from your skull, one by one, until you tell me where it is."

“How frightening.” You tilt your head, hands in your pockets as he gets closer. “Whatever will I do?”

He fires his hook at you, left arm becoming sand and extending. You calmly step around it, dodging by a fraction. He withdraws his hook and fires again; you step to the other side. Keeping his arm extended, he sweeps it out to the side to catch you. You duck, bending far back in an impressive show of flexibility, hands never leaving your pockets. He swings the column of sand at your feet, you hop over it. With every dodge, you move closer to him.

“I’m flattered you recognized me despite the differences from my bounty poster,” you say, pausing in your approach. “You, on the other hand, look almost exactly the same as yours. Except…” You look him up and down, seeming impressed. “I must say, Sir, the poster doesn’t do you justice.”

Rage simmers beneath Crocodile’s cool demeanor. He hates how genuine you sound–it feels more like mockery than true admiration to him. Moving faster, he forms a blade of sand with his right hand and hurls it at you.

“Desert Spada!”

You easily match his speed, side-stepping so the blade cuts through the bookshelf behind you instead. It collapses, sending a heap of wood and fine hardbacks to the floor.

“Careful now,” you chide, shining eyes focused on him.

Undeterred, he strikes again, and again, and again. Each time, you dodge effortlessly, moving with a light, fluid grace. It’s almost as if you’re dancing with him–he can see how you earned your nickname. Furniture crumbles behind you as it’s sliced and smashed to pieces. The more he attacks, the more you avoid, the angrier he gets.

Amidst the chaos, Crocodile suddenly realizes you’ve had yet to break eye contact with him, your own eyes slightly narrowed, assessing. There’s a faint smile on your face.

You're playing with him.

That only pisses him off further. He won’t become another one of your victims–Crocodile races through plans in his head as he unleashes another Desert Spada, keeping you moving as he thinks. He won’t let this end with anything but his own gain. He’ll trap you and torture you until he finds out both where his money is, and where the rest of your hoard is stashed.

You’ll regret having ever made a target out of him.

Crocodile fires off both arms at you, hook aiming for your lower half to force you to jump, while his right arm forms a blanket of sand at the ground. When you inevitably land on it, he’ll be able to grab your leg and hold you still.

As he predicts, you jump over his hook and land on the sand–but somehow, for some reason, your feet do not sink in. It’s as if there’s something solid under your feet, letting you stay at the surface. At first, he’s not certain of how you’re doing it. Crocodile withdraws the sand blanket back toward him, aiming to make you trip, but you don’t so much as lose balance, simply walking forward over the sand like there are hidden stepping stones within it.

Crocodile rapidly withdraws his hook, going to catch your neck. You duck again, even doing a little twirl as you do, as if to hammer home the fact that he can’t destabilize you.

Both Crocodile’s arms revert to their usual shapes, and he stares you down. You’re only a few feet from him now. Whatever you did to avoid slipping, it must be your Devil Fruit.

“You’re making an awful mess,” you say.

“Why did you really come to Alabasta?” Crocodile questions. “It’s a long voyage from the New World–there’s plenty of game for you there.”

“I came to see you.” Again, your words carry nothing but sincerity, and you won’t stop looking into his eyes. Your own are sparkling with mischief.

“You robbed me.”

“That was just to get your attention.”

“Careful what you wish for, thief–” Crocodile fires off a sudden attack now that you’re close. You bend back, not fully dodging it, your shirt getting sliced wide open, “–because you’ve got…it...” His words slow as he sees beneath your shirt: you’re wearing lace underneath your clothes, as well as a leather harness. He frowns, trying to figure out what it all means.

“I’m liking the energy, but will you settle down a sec? You’re destroying your lovely smoking room.”

“You attacked my officers.”

“Your lackeys are lacking.” You grin to yourself at your wordplay. “Aside from that blade guy. Mr. 1, I think it was? He was more fun than the others. Couldn’t go the distance, but entertained me for a few minutes. He wasn’t your strongest goon, was he?”

Crocodile’s face twists up in rage, giving away the answer.

“He was? Goodness… Don’t you wish you had someone stronger?” You grin. “Maybe we could help each other.”

“I don’t need your help,” he spits.

“Whatever you say,” you chirp. Then your eyes darken. “My turn now.”

You disappear. A split second later, you’ve grabbed his arm and hurled him straight through his door as if he weighed nothing. He bounces once, then catches himself, skidding backwards as he looks up, but you’re already behind him, grabbing and throwing him right back into the room.

Crocodile lets his form break up into sand, re-forming a distance away to give him a moment to spot you. His head whips left and right; you instead come from above, a brutal axe kick to his head that throws him onto his hands and knees. Pain thuds through his skull, and he clenches his teeth. Every time you make contact, there’s a moment he can’t transform. It’s that damned Haki of yours–he needs to become sand in the time you’re away from him. He dissipates once more, moving in a random direction away. You aren’t deterred at all–Observation Haki, too, it must be– as you’re right in front of him when he re-forms.

“Boo!” you hold your hands up like claws, making Crocodile flinch, and you smile, showing pointed canines. “Come on, Sir. I know you can do better than this.”

He can’t even bring his arms up to block before you punch him, black-fisted, directly in the solar plexus. He gasps, nearly dropping his cigar, body locking up for a moment before his knees buckle and hit the ground. There’s a faint smell of smoke that he realizes is coming from burned spots in the floor–from your feet?

Just what was your Devil Fruit power? If he didn’t figure it out, he might actually lose.

Suddenly you’re sitting on his shoulders, legs draped over his chest. Before he can move, you grab him by the root of the hair and yank his head back so you’ve forced him to look into your eyes. You have the cigar you stole in your mouth. Holding his head still, you lean forward and touch the tip of your cigar to his, lighting yours with an inhale. Then you exhale in his face.

Enraged, Crocodile grabs you by the neck and slams you into the floor. You grunt. He lifts and slams you again, then lifts you one more time, arm extending fast to harshly slam you into the wall. He follows swiftly, tightening his grip. He can’t kill you yet, not yet.

“I gotta say, Sir,” you say, a little strained, still smiling, “you seem to know exactly what I’m into.”

Crocodile brings his hook to your pretty face. Maybe he’ll give you another scar. Your eyes drop down to the sharp tip of his hook, then back up to his. You open your mouth, letting the cigar fall out. Then, slowly, keeping full eye contact, you lick along the hook.

Oh. You have a body mod there, too–a split tongue, each side curving around the hook and sliding up, their tips scraping the point of it. Caught off guard, Crocodile can only stare, feeling his blood surge and his pulse quicken. You smile knowingly.

“Everyone wants to know what it feels like.”

Another one of your tricks. He won’t fall for it, not when he literally has you in his clutches. Your Haki may be powerful, but you’ve made a mistake letting him make contact with you like this. He’ll simply dehydrate you, drawing out just enough moisture for you to cling to life, and will only grant you water when you tell him what he wants to know.

Crocodile focuses.

Nothing happens.

His brow furrows, gritting his teeth, and he focuses again. You stay utterly whole and perfect.

“Why isn’t it working?” you say. “Why won’t I shrivel up? Is that what you’re thinking? Maybe I just can’t stay dry when you play rough with me like this.”

“Once I have my funds back,” Crocodile hisses, “I’m going to kill you so slowly you’ll beg me for death.”

“Come on, Sir. If you’re so upset about the money, I could give it back. I don’t really need it,” you roll your eyes on the ‘really,’ “but I don’t intend on walking away empty-handed. You understand. Us cold-blooded types get what we want, right?”

“What is it you want, Thief?”

“I want you to think of more constructive ways to vent your frustrations.”

Crocodile’s about to stab your face when his hand starts burning where it’s made contact with your neck. Iron-hot, he can’t hold on and drops you. Thinking quickly, he follows it up by bringing a blade of sand down on you while you’re beneath him.

It all happens in a moment: You catch the sand blade. A searing, scorching heat runs through his arm. The sand instantly becomes glass.

Your fingers dig into the glass and shatter it one-handed, your predatory gaze reflected in the thousand falling pieces all around him.

He’s stunned. At that moment, you grab him by the shirt collar and pull him down to your level, close to your face.

“You know, baby crocodiles, before they grow into apex predators, are prey for pretty much everything,” you smile. “Birds, fish, wild pigs… Snakes…”

You throw him onto the ground, the rubble digging into his back, and straddle his chest.

“You may be a threat in Paradise,” you continue, “but you’d get eaten alive in the New World. That’s why you left, isn’t it? Couldn’t hold your own among monsters like Whitebeard.”

Whitebeard. Crocodile grimaces at the mention, still feeling the sting of that loss. You shake your head.

“Now now, don’t feel bad,” you say. “He got me too.” You point to your scar. “Crusty geezer almost took my damn eye out, but not before I robbed him. He’s gotten slow.”

Suddenly, he remembers where he’s seen your bracelet, recognizing it as one of Whitebeard’s rings, one he had gotten decked by in the past. You stole the ring right off Whitebeard’s finger. He stares at you, starting to become aware of the difference between the two of you.

“You can’t beat me in strength,” you say simply, “what will you do?”

You’re right–he can’t beat you in strength. But he didn’t become the Desert King by being the strongest one. No, it’s never been about brute force. Crocodile takes in your shining eyes, your harness and lace, the sultry words you’ve been dropping, connecting the dots.

Grabbing you by the harness, Crocodile pulls you down to him for a kiss, crashing his lips into yours. As he suspected, you immediately reciprocate, parting your lips and licking into his mouth. Your split tongue is a potent distraction, as is your little moan, riling him up more than he expects. Behind you, his unsheathed, poison hook is poised to sink into your neck. You smile against his lips.

A second later, you’ve snapped the hook off its base and stabbed it into his shoulder.

“Heh… Did you think I’d fall for that?” you purr, licking your lips.

“What do you really want?” Crocodile growls.

“You’re far too smart not to have picked up on that by now. Or do you need me to spell it out for you?” You pull the hook out of his shoulder and toss it over yours, licking the blood from your finger. “You want motives? I pick strong targets because I'm bored. Everything I do, I do to entertain myself. But stealing doesn’t meet every need... I’m certain a man of your status is not wanting for company. But I’ve found that monsters like us tend to only feel sated when we’re with other monsters. Catch my drift?”

“So you’re thrill-seeking,” Crocodile says slowly.

“Please. ‘Thrill’ implies my life is in danger. It is what I’m offering you, though,” you smile. “Not that you need to worry, Sir. I won’t hurt you…unless you ask me nicely.”

“You rob me, beat up my men, and you expect me to sleep with you?” he says, incredulous.

“Not for free. I have an offer to make.”

He’s insulted you’d consider him no better than a whore, and spits out his next words.

“I don’t negotiate with thieves.”

“Let’s cut the illusion of rank. Becoming king of this land won’t erase your pirate background. You’re every bit the conniving cheat that I am.” You laugh. “I’ll return your treasure regardless. Chump change like that is meaningless to me. After passing a certain point of wealth, you start dealing in favors instead. So here’s my offer to you: Entertain me for the night. Do a good job, and I’ll join your little syndicate for a while. My power at your whim to use. I’ll let you order me around…” you trail a finger down his chest, “and I’ll behave until the end of our contract, at which point, you’re free to try and kill me again.”

A demonstration, Crocodile realizes as you get off of him. That’s what this all was: a demonstration of power, all so you could get what you wanted.

“If you only wanted to sleep with me,” he says, getting to his feet, “you could have just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you chuckle. “Really, though. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have fought me. This wasn’t going to go anywhere until you understood the gulf that spans between us. Now, you know that when you shove me against a wall, it’s because I let you.”

You dust yourself off and stick your hands back in your pockets like nothing had happened, idly kicking a piece of rubble. Meanwhile, the gears are turning in Crocodile’s head. You defeated Mr. 1 in mere minutes, allegedly. You tossed his own self around like it was nothing, and made him look like a second-rate pirate, much less a king. You have both types of Haki and an unknown Devil Fruit… All in all, an invaluable asset to be under his control. He regards you coolly. You’re waiting patiently for his response.

“So what’ll it be?” you say, sensing he’s made a decision. “I get to have a little fun, you get your most powerful minion yet. We both win.”

“How long would you intend to work for me?” Crocodile asks.

“Depends on your performance,” you shrug. “Let’s start with a few months, and after that, well. If you make it worth sticking around…” your eyes half-lid, letting the implication hang. “Sound like a good deal to you?” You hold out your hand in offering. When Crocodile takes it, you give that predatory smile. “I look forward to working for you, Sir.”

“From now on, you’ll call me Mr. Zero,” he replies, then pauses. “...You can call me Sir in private.”

You grin. “Sorry about your smoking room. Really.”

“Nevermind that. I’ll have someone clean it up. More importantly,” Crocodile says, “what's your Devil Fruit? I’m ordering you to tell me.”

“I can amplify the force of friction,” you respond obediently. “I'm an abrasion human.”

“...You certainly are,” Crocodile says. “It suits you.”

“I think you’ll find, tonight, that it suits you too.” You smile, tugging on your harness lightly. “So, when do we start?”

Crocodile pins you to the wall.

You let him.

#one piece imagines #crocodile x reader #x reader #one piece x reader #zen writes

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suzukiblu · 5 months

Text

Day seventeen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

“I think it's pretty normal to give someone a phone when you want to talk to them,” Tim lies. Bruce gives the other Bats burners sometimes, though. And also communicators. And Robin’s loaned plenty of allies communicators before, including Superboy. So it's normal in their circles, whether Kon actually knows they're both in said circles or not.

“. . . I like the green one,” Kon says after a moment, which is a little bit of a surprise. It's a nice sort of deep, leafy color, Tim guesses, but he would've expected Kon to go for black or red or blue; maybe yellow.

He wonders how green Hawaii is, come to think of it.

And how much green Kon regularly sees these days, living underground in a lab.

“Okay,” he says, then gestures towards the phone case display with his smoothie. “Let's get you a screen protector and a case too, just in case.”

“You don’t have to,” Kon says. “I mean, I am gonna have my TTK on it.”

“Yeah, but that only works if nobody knocks it off the table or something when you’re not holding it,” Tim says. “Besides, better safe than sorry, right?”

“Um, okay,” Kon says. Tim leads him over to the phone cases, and Kon glances them over indecisively, clearly paying more attention to the price tags than personal preference. Tim decides distraction is the better part of valor, in this case.

“I don’t recommend anything superhero-themed, for the record,” he jokes. Kon snorts.

“That’s called a feint, thank you very much,” he informs him mock-primly. “Nobody’d think a superhero would actually have the balls to go around with a superhero-themed phone case.”

“They’d think Superboy would,” Tim says in amusement.

“. . . okay, fair,” Kon allows, making a face at himself. Tim laughs.

“How about that one?” he suggests, pointing towards the second-most expensive one on the rack–so Kon will know money isn’t a concern, but also so Kon won’t realize he’s specifically doing it to make sure he knows money isn’t a concern.

“It looks like a tire tread,” Kon says wryly, which is a fair assessment. It’s one of the heavy-duty cases, so it’s pretty bulky as it is, and the pattern on it is a little tire-like.

“The ones down here have glitter, if that’s more your thing,” Tim replies in amusement, pointing again.

“Glitter is more my thing,” Kon says, leaning over to peer down at the indicated row. Tim probably should’ve expected that response, considering, except also he would absolutely never have expected Kon to willingly admit to liking glitter. At least not without being concussed first. “Hmmmmm.”

“That's a nice one,” Tim says. Kon’s looking at a green and blue case with bright gold glitter swirled all over it in abstract designs; it looks a bit like ocean water, if you look at it the right way. It’s definitely not going to be anywhere near as durable as the tire tread one would, but Tim isn’t particularly concerned about that anyway. He was gonna get accident insurance no matter what. Statistically speaking, Kon will probably go through more than a few of these. He hasn't had the same phone for longer than three months since starting up as Robin. Something always seems to happen to them. Usually a supervillain.

“Too bad they don’t have anything with a cute little goat on it,” Kon jokes as he straightens back up, regrettably letting go of Tim's hand to take the green and blue glitter-case off the wall. “You know, commemorate our first date and all.”

“That was not our first date,” Tim says, mildly disgruntled but mostly flustered by the idea. “I'd have planned a date a lot better than those morons planned their dumb heist. And bought you something from the gift shop, if nothing else.”

“Could've just kept the goat, I guess, but Superman would've made me give it back anyway,” Kon muses idly as he looks over the case in his hand and takes another sip of his smoothie. “This is for the right model, right?”

“Should be,” Tim says, though he double-checks anyway. “Yeah, no, you're good. Lemme go grab a clerk so we can get the plan set up. We'll just go through my name, I can probably set up autopay for the bill easier that way.”

“Um, sure,” Kon says, biting his lip for a moment and then glancing sidelong at him. “So is this our first date, then?”

“No,” Tim says, though technically it probably is. But given how Kon’s been acting about the idea that Tim would actually be interested in dedicating actual time and attention to him–“I'll take you somewhere nice for that.”

“Somewhere nice?” Kon says, hiding a very unsubtle grin behind the phone case. It'd work better if his stupid pretty eyes weren't sparkling for it, Tim thinks in resigned accusation. Kon doesn’t ask what “somewhere nice” means, but Tim is already trying to figure out what restaurants he knows that might appeal to Kon’s palate. If he likes Hawaiian flavors . . . there’s some Asian influence in that, right? He thinks, anyway. Japanese, at least. Maybe Filipino? Polynesian? Any other influences or parallel cuisines he’d have to look up to figure out, though.

Tim knows absolutely no Filipino or Polynesian restaurants, much less actually authentic Hawaiian ones. He could definitely do Japanese, though. Japanese would be easy. Just going to a restaurant isn’t much of a date, probably, and he can’t take Kon on patrol or anything like he and Steph used to do, but they could maybe go shopping in a nicer boutique or something? Or go to a museum for actual entertainment instead of just business, if Kon would be interested in something like that. Admittedly, it’s hard to picture him being particularly into museums as a concept, but it might be worth a try.

Maybe he’d like the aquarium or planetarium more than something involving art or history or science, though. Those are a little cooler than just wandering through a bunch of random exhibits, Tim thinks. Or at least, they might appeal more to Kon. The ocean, or stars and planets, or . . . like, whatever, he guesses.

He’ll have to do some recon, probably. Light interrogation. Figure out what Kon would be the most interested in.

Or they could just go to the beach. It’d require a little bit of travel on his part, but likely wouldn’t be a big deal for Kon; he could just fly. Though in retrospect Kon’s probably spent about half his life on a beach, so maybe that’s not interesting enough. And the Jersey Shore probably wouldn’t measure up to Hawaii in his eyes, either.

Hm. Yeah, Tim's definitely going to have to do some recon.

Tim is possibly putting in too much effort here, considering Kon is going to lose interest in actually flirting with him in about five minutes. Kon never seems to really properly date anyone, as far as Tim's seen; just flirt around a lot. So he should be prioritizing shopping and apartment hunting, really, before Kon gets bored of the flavor of the week and wanders off.

Tim Drake is not exactly an exciting date, so . . . yeah, Tim’s not expecting Kon to stay interested for long. He’s just got to take advantage of it for as long as it lasts to leverage Kon into letting him buy him that cul-de-sac and go from there, that’s all. Kon seems to stay friendly with the girls he flirts with even after things fizzle out or fail to go anywhere, so he assumes it won’t be any different with Tim Drake. As long as Kon’ll let him keep paying his way, that’s all that’s going to matter.

Tim is really going to need to frontload that, though. Establish him paying for Kon as the new status quo very quickly and get Kon used to it before he loses interest in him, so he won’t feel awkward about accepting it by then. Or so Tim will already have signed all the paperwork and it’ll be too late for Kon to protest; whichever.

He’s definitely going to have to frontload it.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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depressopax · 3 months

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Dating Berlin headcanons

Fandom - La casa de papel/Money Heist

NSFW version

SFW version can be found here

Pairing: Andrés de Fonollosa x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content. Semi-public, oral, cuss words, degradation, penetration Words: 1.2K Summary: Dating Berlin/Andrés would include… English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! AO3 link soon

Andrés is a switch… You can’t change my mind

He loves being on top of you, making you beg for him and his cock

…But he also loves being under you, letting you have your way with him while he submits to all of your wishes.

It totally depends on what you like in bed

And what mood he’s in.

He has much stamina and a high sex drive, but sometimes he just likes being lazy, letting you take control while he lays down.

Basically a bit of a “pillow princess” lmao

When he’s being submissive, you’re all his.

He appreciates you being loving, of course

But he also gets turned on by you being rough, with degradation/insults and moving in a fast pace

Fuck it, he gets turned on by you choking him and “light” slaps on his face.

As long as you don’t leave big marks on his skin, he doesn’t mind.

When he’s in control, he has two moods: - Passionate and slow - Fast and rough - No in between, usually.

He loves seeing you all helpless underneath him, making you a moaning, whimpering mess with his hard thrusts and fast pace

Just slutting you tf out

Heads up - if you ask him to be rough, homeboy will NOT hold back.

Seriously, when he says: “I’ll fuck you so you can’t walk straight” He means it.

But of course he also loves to show his love to you with slow, passionate love-making sessions, so he calls them.

Long strokes, lots of praise and kisses

Sex with Andrés means a lot of foreplay and some damn good aftercare.

He likes to really prepare you before penetrating you.

…Which you probably need. He is bigger than other men.

Which he brags about. ;)

He could (and probably will) tease you for hours.

Foreplay with him is usually cheesy.

He lights candles, gives you massages, kisses you and rubs you in oils

He knows what he does with both his hands/fingers and mouth 👀

He takes lot of time to make sure you’re ready

He wants you to beg for his cock before he gives it to you.

He uses condoms, but only if you ask him too.

Otherwise, he probably “forgets”

But sometimes he simply skips the foreplay and goes straight to action.

Usually this is when he’s frustrated, angry or really excited to see you (after being away from you etc)

Where he takes you doesn’t matter

He’ll bend you over anything, at any time, thrusting his cock into you whilst whispering praise

Or while ranting about why he’s in a bad mood - using sex as “therapy”.

When he’s in the mood, he’s a needy/clingy bitch

Sorry not sorry lol

Kissing your neck, playfully spanking your ass… You name it.

Doesn’t matter if you’re around people, he will not hesitate to tell you just how horny he is.

He doesn’t hide his boner from you, either.

Stands behind you, his clothed erection against your ass

You think he’s being annoying? “Do something about it” He’ll murmur with a big ass grin

Won’t stop until he gets to fuck you

OR until YOU fuck him.

He likes riling you up, getting you a bit mad only so you’ll be aggressive with him in bed.

During sex, he is either very serious, but can also crack a joke or two.

He tries to be “funny” especially if you are nervous during sex etc.

Your comfort is his top priority.

Lot of reassurance and questions “You ok?” “Does that feel good, mi amor?” “We’ll stop if you want to.”

He also praises you a lot “Fuck… Taking my cock so well.” “You’re so beautiful. So damn perfect”

When it comes to oral, Andrés doesn’t really have a preference either.

Like I said, this man is a switch.

It’s pretty easy to make him submit to you

Definitely will get on his knees if you ask him too - ready to please your needs

He likes squeezing your thighs, slapping your ass or stroking your stomach and chest when his lips/tongue works down there.

When he gives you oral, he’s very passionate and teasing

But if he’s really turned on tho - he’s messy.

Sloppy oral sex where he uses a bit too much tongue- (I’m sorry 😭)

He could - probably would too - spend hours between your legs, tasting you

…Talks a bit too much “I could spend hours between your legs” “You taste so sweet, mi amor.” “That’s it… Lay back down and let me take care of you.”

Hot, but sometimes annoying lmao

When he’s the one receiving it? Lord have mercy-

Berlin tries to be nice and wants you to feel comfortable.

But how can he not push your head a bit?

If he feels mean, he pushes his hips up, making you gag on his cock.

He likes hearing you choke on him, and the tears in your eyes is a turn-on.

He likes finishing down your throat, holding your head still and basically fuck your face

But if YOU take charge - he’ll lay back down and let you control everything

Just tell him to “Be still”/”Don’t fucking move” and he’ll obey like a good boy <3

This is also one of the times when he’ll whimper and beg for you.

He thinks you’re so damn good at blowjobs, and legit begs for them all the time.

He’s extra sensitive when your mouth is around his member, and making him whimper and moan is easy peasy.

He’s very rewarding after you give him heads, too.

Andrés is a bit of a kinky mf.

He def has some kind of daddy kink, wanting you to call him “daddy” in bed.

Honestly? He wouldn’t mind calling you mommy/daddy in bed too (if you’re into that lmao) - or he will do so just to tease you

He’s into light BDSM, and owns some nice pairs of blindfolds, ropes/handcuffs, a gag and some whips-

The scene where he was tied up? Homeboy enjoyed that a bit too much Iykwim ;)

Sorry, but Andrés is definitely into cockwarming 👀

After finishing, he usually doesn’t pull out but instead keeps his softening member inside of you.

If you are into that too, he suggests for you to cockwarm him during nights.

He just loves being inside of you

When it comes to aftercare, he loves it.

Running you a hot bath, giving massages etc.

He is not the guy that asks for aftercare from you, but he does appreciate you taking care of him after you’ve topped him.

He likes to cuddle you

Also likes having late night conversations with you, talking about dreams and the future, or just random bullshit.

He is very affectionate afterwards.

He loves and cherishes you and always tries showing it to you.

But after sex he is extra loving, which you can tell by the way he looks into your eyes

Or his smile.

To summarize… This man appreciates you no matter what and doesn’t care if he’s over or under you. He is a very passionate man and loves sex with you.

Did I just spend like 2h straight on writing a very detailed Berlin smut? Yep. No regrets 😭

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sirfrogsworth · 3 months

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Purely out of curiosity, I decided to watch the new Netflix Kevin Hart movie called Lift.

He is an international man of mystery and master thief and joined by his team of rogues he pulls off elaborate heists from the undeserving rich.

This is one of the most aggressively terrible movies I've ever watched.

You can tell they sunk a lot of money into this and that money went to all of the wrong things. Apparently it had a $100 million budget.

I'm reminded of ambergris. It's a rare substance used to make perfume and can be sold for up to $40,000 per kilogram.

But no matter what price our society decides ambergris is worth, nothing can change the fact it is still... whale vomit.

I think I would have preferred to see a whale heave up a load than watch this movie.

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paper-gold-theories · 1 month

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Villainous Theory: The Oldest Trick in The Book

(Spoilers for those who have not read Chapter 1-14 of The Risky Heist.)

Some villain rules I noticed being played out in The Risky Heist is that Porccini is a villain that wants to be a hero which he believes is the new version of villainy.

How he is able to do so is to come up with a plan to capture all the amateur villains, which involves relying on his skills as a professional villain and using a mistake villains usually make to use amateur villains as bounty hunters and lure them to capture Miss Heed in order to benefit himself, the "hero".

Flug mentions in The Missing Cases of Park Orientation Video, is that having bounty hunters go crazy for money and do the work for you is a plan he would prefer to avoid as although it will have some benefits, it will most likely lead to unpredictable problems and their failures gives heroes time to prepare for the final confrontation and says that it would be better for a villain to use a trained army.

Black Hat also mentions that you can appeal to the emotions of a stupid hero as a strategy for a villain is to gain the trust of the hero so you can betray them later. (Rule 104)

This is what Porccini had plan and what had happened. He enticed a bunch of amateur villains to hunt down Miss Heed with a promise of a big cash reward. During the heist while all the amateur villains were causing chaos due to several failures in attempting to get to Miss Heed first leading to the King Casino's casino being destroyed and him losing his gambling business operating licence because of the destruction, the chaos also gives Porccini time to contact Captain Estrada to arrest the villains and his men (or his own armies) to do a clean up and eliminate Miss Valdoom, who was not supposed to be involved in a heist for amateur villains (though I theorized she is not really dead).

Turns out Porccini, a trusted Villain, was just using his villain status and setting this whole thing up in order to make a deal with P.E.A.C.E. to help him take down King Cassino and give him the credit so that he can become a hero.

Additionally, despite Iluminarrow noticing the red flags throughout the heist such as Porcini hiring multiple villains for the job without telling them and Miss Valdoom saying that Porcini is a non-mind controlled Miss Heed simp (although that was proven false later on) she still chooses to go back and warn him of having a double agent he employed (with of possibly of getting rewarded to pay for her rent for it of course) because she i respects and looks up to Porcini as the most powerful mafia boss in the city. Partially her make judgements based on emotions (and it's also impossible to believe that a powerful high ranking villain is working for the heroes). Hence, Porcini also successfully implementing the Rule 104: gain the trust of the hero so you can betray them later, being acted.

Porcini's plan was good and even though Iluminarrow, Mawrawsite and Humiko managed to escape at first, he would succeeded after he got the police to bring those to to them if he just kept his mouth shut.

Which, I theorized that if he did King Cassino would have killed Humiko for lying to him and wasting his time. And afterwards Porcini would have probably killed Iluminarrow and Mawrawsite making sure that no one aside from P.E.A.C.E. knows about his plan and he was able to become a hero by exposing King Casino as a villain.

Ironically, Porocini's downfall is also making an amateur villain mistake of monologuing about his evil "heroic" plan, which gives time for their friends to rescue them, leading to King Casino finding out and P.E.A.C.E. betryaing him because of this.

Because of Iluminarrow successfully able to execute her plan of tricking Porcini by executing Rule 72: Hide your true intentions until you find the right time to strike.

Another irony is that despite P.E.A.C.E, being a "hero" organisation, they made a smart villain move by betraying Porccini only after he is no longer useful to their plan and also rule doing Rule 104 of gaining the trust of the hero so you can betray them later.

Flug mentioned in The Guide for an Evil Conquest Orientation Video that villains should only betray any alliance they made only if they know that the former alliance won't betray them.

Even though Porccini saw that the police were arresting his men and were going to arrest him. He's obsession of wanting to become a hero still made him carry forward in directing his anger towards killing Iluminarrow, Mawrawsite, and Humiko.

Bonus Rule:

Porcini also acts Rule 532, which is, a high caliber villain doesn’t get into direct combat unless the situation calls for it.

Throughout The Risky Heist, Porccini only sends out his men to do the job, however he got into direct combat when he had to face his enemy, against King Casino and snapped and had to fight Iluminarrow, Mawrawsite, and Humiko and that one police officer when he snapped because his plan was failing.

#villainous #villanos #dr flug #dr kenning flugslys #villainous illuminarrow #villainous missheed #cecilia amanda kelly #villainous miss heed #villainous mawrasite #villainous miss valdoom #villainous king casino #villainous porccini #villainous blackhat #black hat organization #villainous black hat #villainous humiko

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thispageisrendering · 10 months

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Autistic Safe Spaces

If you own a business or a restaurant that serves the public, as the issue gets talked about more, you might be wondering how you can better help the neurodivergent community. Some places try to give spaces where autistic people can go to get their needs fulfilled, so if that is of interest to you, I've compiled a list of things we really enjoy.... made by an actual neurodivergent person.

NOTE: This is list is made by an adult, for adults and teens. The needs of children are slightly different, though similar, and would surely require a different list. 1. Silence - A lot of places, including malls, restaurants, and crowded stores, are overwhelmingly loud. The brains of autistic people process stimuli differently, and we can't "tune out" sounds in the same way neurotypicals can. Silence can involve the (seemingly) obvious things, like turning down music or reducing the number of people in an area, but a lot of things are loud to the point of pain that you might not think of, including metal silverware on ceramic dishware, shopping carts, doors opening and closing, and shoes on floors. A good rule of thumb is to think about how you would feel in a space if you had a migraine. This is easier in some places than others, but accommodations such as plastic dishware, softer floors, and carts left outside can make a big difference. 2. Stillness - I call the visual category stillness and not "blankness" or "simpleness" because that is simply not what I mean. A space can still be quite beautiful while not being overstimulating. We do not want ugly things, and you can still use style and color theory and design principles, but we do want walls without too much signage or distracting detail, floors and carpets without tightly repeating patterns or too much contrast (stripes and small tiles both bug me), and a visual block from the rest of the world, where things are moving like crazy.

3. Style - Because autism is often seen as a disorder than affects children, style can often be overlooked when designing materials and spaces for autistic people (although this, I would argue, is silly; many brilliant artists are / were on the spectrum, and a child, especially an autistic child, can enjoy beauty as much or more than you), and if you have the chance, I plead to you-- remedy this. Autistic people can appreciate detail and wonder in a way that is not concurrent with anything neurotypical people do, and along with having "icks", things we find particularly distressing, we also experience "glimmers", moments of unbounded joy over (possibly) seemingly ordinary things. I feel glimmers when shown any well-executed style; I feel glimmers in office buildings and abandoned neighborhoods and driving by courthouses... any style that is significantly different from my own, and significantly committed to the bit, so to speak, is a wonder to me. If you have the money and the resources, give us beauty, give us a an area that contains classy chic lounge or a medieval tavern or a vast, well-made mural of hyperfixations you polled from your own customers... pay craftsmen to give you a 20th century train station or a heist or an illusion floor in one area that looks as if dwarves are mining for gold hundreds of feet below you. You do not need to overwhelm us with detail-- this area need not be unusually large, or contain live-action roleplaying employees, or be loud or bright or over-the-top-- but you should also take the project seriously, bring people who love what they do and will truly take this opportunity with joy and a keen eye for style. 4. Solitude - I am a high-masking individual, which means that when I am being watched, I cannot "safely" relax; if you appear distressed, people sometimes talk to you, and ask if you are okay, which is a nightmare for me. I strongly prefer small, quiet spaces where I can be alone, about the size of a bathroom cubicle (which is where I do go to decompress a lot), where I can be unobserved and alone. It is a wonderful feeling-- it doesn't need to be (and shouldn't) be a perfectly soundproof room, but just somewhere I can be myself for a minute.

5. Snacking - Being autistic is exhausting. We process 42% more information than you all, and it really takes it out of us. Lots of people on all ends of the neurodiversity spectrum people have trouble waiting long hours between meals, but when a lack of snacks could mean a meltdown... please just let us eat our own food. At a sit-down restaurant, waiting for the food and not being able to eat anything until it comes is unbearable, I just get so hungry and frustrated, while being overstimulated and masking the whole time, and on top of that, because I cannot eat gluten, dairy, or much sugar / refined carbs, the appetizers are usually unappetizing or off-limits for me, and the food on the menu itself just as bad. I don't actually get much sustenance from meals provided and / or eaten in public, and a bit of acceptance around eating a couple pecans while you wait for you meal goes a long way. This is also true in stores, especially in malls, where food sold is usually not of much value to me, but there aren't great places to sit down and eat something. And, as a side note, if you want to sell food that appeals to people with autism, think Plain, Cheap, and Childish-- I mean this with absolutely no disrespect to autistic people, but I would never in a million years eat a fancy sharp cheddar (it tastes awful and gives me a headache), but I love the shredded colby jack from Costco. We like simple mac 'n' cheese, chicken nuggets, plain noodles, hot dogs... if a fancy chef would think it wasn't real food, it probably tastes amazing to us.

In conclusion: I don't know why I alliterated this list; I just started doing it, and I liked it. Many autistic people love life and everything in it, we just can't take it in all at once. Give us beauty. Give us the silence and stillness to appreciate it. And, overwhelmingly... leave us alone :). We love our solitude.

I have just been chatting in this post (I'm sure there are spelling mistakes please ignore them lol), so feel free to add if you have more ideas, fellow neurodivergents. POST SCRIPT: If you are doing anything similar to this, please talk to autistic people before embarking on a journey like this, and take in a wide bank of opinions. Don't worry, we like to answer honest questions, and we talk quite a lot if you let us. We love you guys. You got this.

#autism #adhd #audhd #neurodivergent #neurodiversity #neurodivergence #autistic #actuallyautistic #adult autism #adult autistic #autism awareness #autism advocacy #autism adhd #accomodation

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unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

Note

I want a love like the movies- give me a trope/character dynamic from this list, a song (or a specific lyric from a song that you want me to base it off of, or even a poem, anything that is seen as art is acceptable here) and a time of day. I’ll use that to write a fic with a minimum of 1k words.

kaz brekker with 29 (from the list) anddddd almost by hozier?? idk first song to pop into my head haha

Love- K.B x gn! reader

okay, this is the last of your requests and it's coming out on my official two year fic-iversary! I posted my first ever fic on maliciousbrekker two years ago to the day, and it's been a wonderfully wild ride in things ever since! No regrets with anything I've done here, honestly!

As for requests generally speaking, the goal is to have at least one more coming out over the weekend! My two year anniversary requests are taking precedent right now because I've been demotivated and haven't posted many of them, but after the two year anniversary requests are done, I'll go through my inbox and decide what I want to write vs what I don't and then I'll proceed and hopefully my requests will be open again by the date in my bio!

The prompt you chose was: reader/writer

Fic type- this is fluff!

Warnings-Kaz is probably a little ooc

"You and your books," Kaz observed as he came into your place. You lived in a flat not too far from the Barrel, one that was simultaneously within walking distance of the Crow Club and the Slat as well as Wylan and Jespers place.

You'd bought it to own it with a portion of your money from the ice court, spruced it up to your liking and saved a room to turn into a library. Bookshelves lined the walls, covered in every book you owned and organized to your preference.

You'd bought a desk for Kaz to use, and within it were countless heist plans, countless letters to Nina, Matthias, and Inej, and even a couple of the journals that Kaz had bought two years before but had only begun using in the weeks after the Ice Court job had been completed.

"I have my books and you have your heists, love," you said, shrugging as Kaz sat at the opposite end of the velvety couch you'd kept in the sitting room. "Everyone has their vices."

"How is it?" Kaz asked. You jabbed at each other for your hobbies occasionally, poked fun and delighted in the sounds of scoffs that eventually turned into barely amused laughter, but in the end, you cared about the other persons hobbies, too.

No matter how much you may have poked fun at Kaz and his love for unlined leatherback journals, for the expensive ink he purchased from a Fabrikator near the heart of the city, you always bought him the ink when you noticed he was running low before he did.

You bought him new leather journals when you saw one that he might've liked in a windowsil and bought him ones engraved as a gift on his birthday or during the holidays.

And, in turn, Kaz did the same. He bought you books from the authors you loved whenever he'd heard that a new one was releasing, took your most beloved books to a book binder when the covers were wearing out and the spines needed re-gluing.

He asked how you liked the books you were reading when he noticed you were reading a different one, bought you the books that your eyes lingered on whenever you'd see something in a bookshop window.

"It's good," you said. "How're the heist plans coming?"

"Decently enough," he responded. "A hundred thousand kruge per person on a seven person crew, if you're in?"

You grinned as you closed your book, looking at the cover for a moment.

"How convenient it is that you ask me to join you on a heist when the book I'm reading involves one."

"Is that your way of saying yes?"

You shot him a look, and he nodded. "Yeah. It's your way of saying yes."

You watched him stand, heading for your office, a pen, and one of his journals.

"Love you!" You called after him. You heard Kaz's amused laughter in response and smiled to yourself.

He didn't need to say it back for you to know he loved you in turn. If anything, he'd likely be the one to turn down the lamps and blow out the low-burning candles when he was done planning the heist he'd asked you in on.

He'd be the one to find you with a book in your lap, having told yourself "just one more chapter" even as your eyes were drooping and sleep was on its way

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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otrtbs · 2 months

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hiiii !!! you’re like my favourite writer ever. the whole reason i got into the marauders is because of my love for art and finding art heist baby 🙈

i live in aus and i’m turning 17 soon. i want to do a degree in art history but im scared it wont get me anywhere? what do you think??

hi!!! thank you so much, this is so sweet!!! <3

well, as someone with 2 degrees in art history i am afraid i will be a bit biased here but i say absolutely do it if it's something that you love and are passionate about!

being completely candid here i had the best time in school. the BEST time. i loved every second of what i was doing and learning and it never felt like a chore. then for about 5 months post-grad i wanted to find a very large hole and bury myself in it because i could not get a job that utilized my degree to save my life. they were either extremely low paying (seriously, no person could live off of that wage and they were also PhD preferred) or entry level jobs calling for 5+ years experience ???? Like. GET. REAL. (not to worry tho i just recently got a job (aye) as an exhibitions and collections specialist at a museum so we are so on the up and up again)

also being candid here. you're never going to make a ton of money in this field. you're not gonna be "rich" and 95% of it is who you know. the art world is small. TRUST. also, most positions in an art historical field require at least a master's degree tbh. a lot would prefer a PhD especially if you're looking to do curatorial work in any time period pre 1920s. (so if you're an impressionist/baroque/renaissance kinda person be prepared to get a PhD and be prepared to learn another language aside from english to get a good job in the field) <- i do find that it's easier if you're more modern and contemporary focused to get on with just a masters degree

that being said, if this is what you want to do. if this is what you love. it is never a waste and you will find a way. (if I can find a way anyone can find a way). my best advice is talk to your professors, do internships, work if you can !!!! volunteer at your art museums!!!! meet and talk to the museum professionals in your area and NETWORK!! (I can't stress enough how many times someone has been like "oh you worked [redacted] did you know [redacted]?'" and i could be like "yes!!! i worked under them for two years loved her!! blah blah blah" it goes a long. way. i've had professors send me gallery writing guides and artist biography guides from when they worked at the MET so i would know how to write them, academic advisors in scotland know my art history professors in undergrad and subsequently became my bestie by extension, curators at a museum i volunteered at teach me how to work archival systems when they had a free minute)

talk to as many people as you can!! network!!! get some experience in archival systems, instillation work, art historical research!! work with your local university's/city's museum or archeological center! that way, when you're on your inevitable 239823 interview post-grad, someone at some gallery will be like "oh you worked here? under so-and-so???? you're hired"

i love it. what i do doesn't ever feel like work to me, it's exciting and fun and enjoyable and not something i do so i can do other things. it's not something i do just to make money. it's hard. post-grad is hard. but it's hard for a lot of people rn, not just art historians. i'm always gonna say go for it!!!! it is never a waste to do something you love!!

#asks #okay rant over sorry!!#always happy to answer more questions ofc any time just lmk #ARH talks

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ijwrsmff · 11 months

Note

Omg I’m a slut for yandere Vi or Sevika

Here are some headcanons for youuuuuu thank you for being the first to request yandere arcane things X3

Headcanons for Vi and Sevika (Separate) under the cut!

Vi:

She’s very much a protective yandere

If you’re in Piltover, she’d sneak up every day to come see you

At first, she wouldn’t want you to be aware of her

She prefers you stay out of her life, seeing as it can be dangerous

But then…she wouldn’t be able to resist

Sneaking into your work, and pretending she intended to buy your products

She would show up everywhere in your life

Flirting relentlessly, and always bringing you your favorite things

If you were from the lanes?

She would never leave your side

Screw heists and scrounging for money, she would be there to make sure you were always safe

She would have Vander watch over you, and give you a job at the bar

Vander would know of her love, and protect you with his life

He knew he could take Vi in a fight, but that doesn’t mean he’d want to

If anyone started to cause trouble in his bar, he’d send you to the back room where you could stay far away from the trouble he’d both cause and or resolve

If anyone hurt you…even a scratch? She’d be even more protective than usual

She wouldn’t want you to be mad at her in any regard, but if you got hurt even once she’d confine you to her room

You’d never be able to leave

And she would wear you down, until you wouldn’t WANT to leave

No matter what, she would kill, live, and die for you if she had to

Powder would grow to love you too, as that would be very important to Vi

Vi would look at the two of you working on Powder’s newest “weapon” and see that you wanted to help her. Genuinely

You would look over to Vi, as she watched you and Powder, and tilt your head

“What’s…wrong?” You’d ask

“Nothing…nothing at all. In fact, everything’s perfect. You two are safe, and that’s what matters.”

Sevika:

Sevika on the other hand, is a sadistic yandere

She didn’t care if you cried, begging to go home

She would just sit there and smirk

Once she had her eye on you, she’d kidnap you without thinking twice about it

Hell, her boss is Silco. In her eyes, that meant she could do anything she wanted if it didn’t hinder his plans in any way

She wouldn’t even have to restrain you

She was strong enough it didn’t matter

If you tried to escape? She wasn’t above tossing you around the room or throwing you against a wall

You were HERS

She saw you as property, and in her mind, she could treat her property however she damn well pleased

Eventually she could grow feelings, but you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference

The only thing that would really change is her violence towards anyone who even got near your cell

And she would think about you constantly

Seeing her acts of violence towards other people as “one less person that can hurt my little toy”

She would ask you, however, every day

“Do you want to leave?” You learned not to say no, but even when you said yes she knew if you were lying

But one day, after seeing her defend you over some creep who thought he could even do so much as look at you flirtatiously, she asked you again

“Do you want to leave”

You said…”No. I don’t.” And this time? You really did mean it

For the first time…you saw a smile on her face

Not a smirk, or sarcastic look, but a smile

If you weren’t hers before…you definitely were now

#yandere! arcane x reader #arcane x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane sevika x reader #x reader #gn reader #request

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depressopax · 3 months

Text

LCDP character valentines day headcanons

Fandom - La Casa de papel/Money Heist

Pairing: Nairobi - Berlin - Denver - Tokyo - Professor - Alicia Sierra - Bruce - Cameron - x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff Warning(s): No smuts, but suggestive themes. Reader is gender neutral. Words: 1.3K Summary: How do the LCDP characters celebrate valentines together with reader? English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link soon

I made one of Breaking Bad characters, so ofc I gotta make one for my babygirls in LCDP 🫶

Enjoy and happy valentines day to y'all!!!

(single gang wya?)

Nairobi

Nairobi LOVES valentine’s day.

Cheesy stuff is her favorite thing - romance movies, dates etc…

So for Valentine's Day, she wants to have a big celebration with you.

She makes plans weeks ahead, booking a weekend for the two of you.

She likes taking you on roadtrips and also going on mini vacations to other towns

So that’s what she does on february 14.

She doesn’t GAF if it’s in the middle of the week, you’re going lmao

Of course she’s also brought you gifts, probably some jewelry or a plushie. …Maybe both, actually.

Her face lights up when you hand her a gift too.

Will be all over you with kisses

She takes a lot of photos of and with you, and everything the two of you see and do. She wants to document it all and look back at it.

The day is spent at the hotel, going to a spa, sightseeing or just a candlelit dinner, whichever you prefer.

She also books the fancy room, making sure the two of you have some privacy for the nights… ;)

Berlin

Cheesy, romantic mf man

Andrés would spend a ridiculous amount of money for valentines day 😭

No but fr, you’d have to stop him from spontaneously paying for a trip to another country.

He treats this damn “holiday” like it is a life or death situation

Which can be both charming, but a bit concerning.

Luckily, he listens to you and decides on going for a weekend away instead. …His treat, of course

He books the two of you into some romantic spa hotel, and takes you out for fancy dinners.

Of course… Gifts, too.

He buys you those things you’ve half mentioned wanting earlier. He memorizes everything you say, basically.

He does all of this, yet still gets flustered when you give him something back. “Mi amor… You… You didn’t have to.” Meanwhile he has a big grin on his face, feeling grateful for every single thing you do.

The weekend away is full of love, relaxation and… Passion 🤭

“King of valentines day”, what can I say?

Denver

I love Denver, but he is pretty forgetful.

He remembered it was Valentine's Day the same morning.

But this doesn’t mean he doesn't make an effort.

He loves you, and even if you don’t care that much about it being february 14, he wants to show his love to you.

He rushes to the store to buy you flowers and some other gift.

He takes you out on a date in the afternoon, making sure he looks extra nice for you.

The date is something romantic, yet fun.

Either an amusement park, picnics somewhere beautiful, ice/roller skating… You name it.

When exchanging gifts, he feels bad for almost forgetting, but you don’t seem bothered at all, just happy to be with him.

He gets excited when you hand him over a gift, feeling damn lucky to have you in his life.

He doesn’t care what you give him, just happy you had him in mind.

Although, if you were to be angry at him, he has more surprises waiting once home iykwim ;)

Tokyo

A bit like Denver, but at least she remembers the day before lmao

…Might be because you reminded her

She feels bad, tho, so she makes sure to buy you something and also flowers.

Tokyo doesn’t hate valentines day, but does find it annoying with all lovey-dovey couples.

But she loves you, and defies her dislike for the day.

She warms up a bit at your reaction to the gifts, tho.

And loves what you get for her.

Doesn’t matter what it is, it will be her new comfort item, and a reminder of her love for you.

She takes you out for a romantic dinner, but then drags you out to the club.

She just wants to party the night away whilst keeping you close, showing everyone that you’re hers.

The night probably ends with the two of you making out on the dance floor, and taking it somewhere more private…

Professor

This man…

He’s not used to “celebrating” valentines day, so he is awkward about it.

Probably pleads Andrés for his help to pick out a gift to you and give him advice

…Although he ends up roasting his ideas/suggestions, since they’re too bold, perverted or cheesy.

Still, he ends up taking some advice.

Homeboy just wants to give you a good day

And he does.

Sergio ends up going for the classic - flowers, suit and romantic dinner.

Also buys you some gift, just simply something he knows you like/need.

Although he’s a bit nervous/awkward at first, being around you makes him less tense.

He totally stops functioning when you smile and give him what you bought for him

Legit a blushing mess lmao

It ends up being a good valentines day, and you make sure to thank him in more than one way 🤭

Alicia Sierra

Alicia has a busy job, but she tries taking a day off, or at least the afternoon - to spend it with you.

She’s not that cheesy.

She likes Valentine's Day, since it is a day of “celebration”, but she usually doesn’t bother with it.

Until things got real with you.

She buys some simple (but probably expensive) gift and some flowers and picks you up with her car.

She takes you out to watch some movie and then to her place, where she’s fixed a candlelit dinner.

That way, you have more privacy and focus on each other.

Alicia likes spoiling you, even if she doesn’t admit so out loud.

That’s why she looks so smug as you open the wrapping paper to the piece of jewelry she brought.

The gift she got from you, she carefully places in her living room, where she can look at it all the time.

After dinner, you spend the night at her place.

You won’t be sleeping much, tho… ;)

Bruce

Bruce sees Valentine's Day as a chance to impress you.

Sure, you're already his, but he still wants to seduce you.

He’ll have you sleep over the night before, and wake you up with breakfast in bed, and also give you the gift he’s brought.

Might not be the best food, but at least he made it with love lol

Literally spends the whole day pampering you, making you feel like a royal, which is his only goal.

And you do the same for him.

Which is pretty easy. A couple of kisses, and you’re all his.

Which is why he got so emotional when you gave him a gift too.

The day is spent with home spa, watching movies, making out, and either ordering food or takeaway.

Basically just a day where the two of you relax together and do other fun stuff, happy to have found each other.

Cameron

Due to her last relationship, she’s not that fond of valentines day.

She doesn’t see the point in being extra affectionate once a year, when you can do so everyday.

Still, you buy her a valentine's gift and surprise her with flowers.

She’s stunned at first, then flustered, and then smiles, pulling you into a kiss.

As a thank you, she takes you out on a date.

Together, the two of you like adrenaline and action.

So of course, you either go to an amusement park, or go sightseeing on her motorcycle, with you sitting behind her, hands wrapped around her hips as she speed drives through town.

The rest of the day, you explore random places together, taking pictures and making memories.

Cameron can’t help but just stare at you, feeling so incredibly lucky to have you.

You go to some cozy restaurant to eat.

Once going home, it’s getting dark.

The two of you can’t keep hands to yourself during the trip home

So you end up doing that at the most random place

Afterwards, you are cuddled up and stargazing.

Although you’re supposed to watch the stars, you and Cameron only has eyes for each other, tbh <3