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simonsslut · 8 months

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meeting simon in the army.

18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist

wc: around 4.8k

cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.

Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.

a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.

you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.

soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.

Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.

you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).

maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.

Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.

however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.

maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?

simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.

"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."

a shared opinion.

he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.

you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.

you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.

you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.

it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.

"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.

you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.

after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.

3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.

and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.

3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.

sort of.

simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.

neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.

or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.

what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.

but that's probably because you were so oblivious.

you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.

you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?

the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?

when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.

what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.

but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.

he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.

"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"

he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.

"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.

"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.

"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."

you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.

"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.

but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.

because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."

you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.

"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.

it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.

"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.

though you, of course, take it as a joke.

"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.

the hell does that even mean?

luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.

maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.

you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.

you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.

you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.

so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.

you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.

"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.

"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.

he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.

he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?

you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.

you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.

you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.

he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.

silence.

why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??

"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"

the air is thick.

you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.

"may I?"

you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.

you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.

he's not wearing the glove.

his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?

"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.

'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.

"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.

he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.

you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.

but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.

you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.

ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.

he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.

he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.

it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.

when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.

there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.

you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.

you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.

you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.

"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.

silence.

"simon." he stops.

"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.

after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.

he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.

"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.

"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.

he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.

he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.

he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.

you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.

he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.

"you gon' let me do this?"

the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.

this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.

he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.

you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.

you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.

you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.

you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.

he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.

he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.

his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.

he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.

he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.

he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.

"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.

"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.

you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.

you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.

he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.

he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.

he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.

he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.

you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.

he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.

his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.

your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.

the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.

he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.

your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.

he's close and so are you.

your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.

your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.

he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.

the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.

you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.

he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.

he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.

now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.

you just fucked your lieutenant.

he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."

you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.

you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.

"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.

you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.

horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!

simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.

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drunkkenobi · 1 month

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Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej

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strawbeerossi · 4 months

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August || Chapter One

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Chapter Description: After a few days, you are back at the office whenever you have an emotional outburst over the JJ/Spencer situation. That leaves you to have a soul shattering boundary you need to put into place.

Content/Warnings: Drama in the workplace, mentions of questioning self worth, Penelope is the best friend ever (duh), horrible friends, Spencer is an ass (again, sorry lmao)

WC: 2K

Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request

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“I don’t think I can come in today. I’m sick." You spoke to Emily over the phone, even feigning a cough, as you were just hoping she’d fall for it. It was only a few days after the wedding, the whole water in the face incident creeping up to embarrass you.

“You can’t avoid them forever, you know. Now come to the office. All you need to do is work and then go home. No need to talk to JJ or Spencer.” The unit chief spoke over the phone, her tone making you just feel the disapproving look on her face.

“Fine..” You huffed a bit while pushing yourself up from your couch, already dressed for the day, anyway. “I’ll be there soon.” With a defeated sigh, you were hanging up the phone and pocketing the device. It would be a good day, right? All you had to do was get through it.

The drive to the office was horrible, feeling nauseous with each mile you drove. Most people would assume that after your small outburst at the wedding, you’d feel better. That was far from the case. The action just made you feel worse, knowing that Spencer nor JJ attempted to follow you out, to explain themselves. There was radio silence from both of them.

You probably should’ve expected that.

As you arrived at the dreaded building and parked in the parking garage, it wasn’t long until you were on the elevator and on your way up to the floor you needed to get to. The more you stood there, the sicker you felt. Facing two people who you are forced to work with is going to do nothing but hurt you even further. You could quit, although then you’d be homeless. Putting in a transfer was a good option, even if you’d miss your other teammates.

The sound of the elevator’s ding was tearing you from your thoughts, your steps deliberately smaller and slower just to take the last few seconds to prepare yourself. The minute your hand was on the glass doors of the bullpen, you knew there was no more hiding.

Much to your surprise, the team was too busy at their desks to even look up. Thank god. You quietly approached your desk, your purse being placed underneath, as you took your seat. That got everyone’s attention.

“Hey.” Luke spoke first, a smile on his face. “You’re later than you usually are, was worried we’d have to come get you.” He joked, causing Tara to laugh softly from her desk.

“We would’ve been there too. It isn’t a good workday when you’re not here.”

At least you knew the rest of the team considered you as a friend. No way they’d ever do the things JJ and Spencer did to you. Just thinking of them had a frown on your face, your eyes on a file that you’d opened previously.

“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite people hanging, could I?” You finally broke the silence while offering a forced smile. The idea of a transfer just made you feel horrible now. You were stuck here, no escape in sight.

While you were working on a case file you’d neglected, it wasn’t long before the door was opening again. This time, there was laughter and lighthearted discussion from two very distinct voices that you recognized. God damn it.

It was best to keep your eyes down, even though you could feel every person’s eyes burning into your skin, just waiting for a reaction. You felt like a circus act, expected to perform based on one interaction you had a few days ago.

The three of you didn’t even have to look each other in the eyes in order to make the whole room thick with tension that the strongest knife couldn’t even cut. “Can we be adults? I really don’t wanna discuss what happened.” JJ spoke up, knowing the attention was on all three of you.

The audacity of her wanting to move on was what made you finally turn around, your ears heating from the anger that was still deep inside you. “Are you kidding me? You wanna be an adult and not get questions?” You asked, unable to help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Here’s a question that I know you want to be asked; How’s Will doing? Judging by how you wasted his time for.. Eleven years? Better yet, how are Michael and Henry? I think that someone needs to look out for them.” Venom seeped deep into every syllable.

She had a family. A husband who loved her, children who adored her and needed her. Yet here she was, with a man who she hadn’t even shown any interest in. The whole situation made you sick to even think about.

“That’s not fair.” The blonde spoke up, visibly hurt by the topic being brought up. The absolute fucking nerve.

“You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Will and the boys at all. I guess you didn’t stop to think about them, did you?”

“Enough!” Emily snapped from the doorway of her office, arms crossed over her chest. “This is ridiculous. The last thing any of us need is you two bickering all the time. I suggest you solve this and let it go. I will not deal with the bullshit. I’m sorry.”

The frustration of your unit chief made you take a breath, putting your hands up. “I can’t pretend like this is right and I will not endorse this fraud of a relationship. If you choose to fire me, that’s fine.” Your built up anger and hurt made you push in your chair, your purse on your arm as you were storming out of the bullpen.

Penelope was the one that caught you in the hallway as you were making your escape. “Wait!” She screamed, quickly following behind you and grabbing your arm before you could make it to the elevator. “Come hang out with me for a little bit. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

You didn’t answer, instead just letting the tech analyst pull you behind her into the safety of the batcave. As soon as that heavy door was closed and you realized you were with one of your best friends, it was like the dam holding in all your tears had been burst open as a hot stream of tears was running down your cheeks.

“Oh, honey..” Penelope frowned softly as she was letting her arms wrap around your body, giving you a tight squeeze as she was rubbing your back. “It’s okay, you can sit in here as long as you want. We will just tell Emily that you need some Garcia time.” Everyone could benefit from such time.

You were forced into one of the chairs while the bubbly blonde grabbed one of her many phones to inform Emily on what was going on. “Just so you know, I don’t think you’re wrong for feeling the way you do. I would be just as upset.” She assured, the woman now sitting down beside you while gently holding your hand. “I just think that you should maybe calm down a bit. We don’t need any physical fights.”

“I can’t help it, Pen. Why? Why would JJ encourage me to tell Spencer how I feel about him and then jump on him at the next opportunity. She has a family.” You knew that she wouldn’t have a concrete answer for you but you had to admit, it was nice just ranting to her about it. “It also hurts knowing that Spencer just.. Stopped talking to me. It made me feel like I was a placeholder for her. Like he was just entertaining himself until what he truly wanted came around..”

There was a soft silence between you both, though it was soon being broken whenever there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Penelope called to the mystery guest, although the both of you were in a stunned silence whenever Spencer Reid was poking his head through the door.

“I come in peace, just let me talk.”

“Too little, too late. I don’t wanna hear it.” You spoke, standing your ground.

Instead of taking the hint, the man just entered the room before closing the door behind him. “I understand that you’re mad at me, pissed at me even. I can handle it. That being said, I don’t want trouble. I came to personally apologize. I was a shitty friend to you these past few days with not reaching out.”

“You are a shitty friend, Spencer. You know, I thought you were supposed to be by my side. I don’t expect you to be madly in love with me but what kind of friend ignores someone for days? What kind of friend makes their friend feel unimportant and makes them question their self worth?” You asked, keeping your composure as you were going to put everything on the table.

“I think you’re a horrible friend. Not just to me but to Will. I think you’re a horrible person who broke up a family. JJ may have left Will but you didn’t even stop and try to make her consider her husband. You were selfish.”

It seemed like a sobering realization, judging by the way Spencer’s eyes widened and his body went stiff. He needed to hear that, even if he wasn’t planning on changing things. “I- Wow. I don’t know what to say,” He let out an awkward chuckle as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sure you don’t. Doesn’t sound like a good situation whenever someone says it out loud, does it?” You asked, voice cracking toward the end of the sentence as you were clearing your throat. “I just want you to know that I have no interest in talking to you outside of work. I think it’s best for you just to stay away.” A necessary boundary that killed you inside, however it needed to be put into place.

“You don’t mean that. I don’t wanna lose you permanently like that. Please, just take some time to consider.”

“You lost me the moment that you chose to devote every ounce of your time to someone who didn’t ever say that she wanted to be with you until the night you were in a hostage situation together.”

“We weren’t even dating, listen to yourself. We had sex, what, a few times? I hardly find that as something serious, especially whenever you never even seemed like you objected to the thought of something casual.”

“Spencer Reid!” Penelope’s horrified voice was what solidified that you weren’t crazy, that he was in the wrong just as much as you could be.

You wanted to scream, punch him, cry, and just lose it. This wasn’t the place for such outbursts but you knew that the minute you got out of everyone’s line of sight, you were going to shatter.

Your nights spent with Spencer were something you cherished. The way he’d touch you, the way he’d hold you.. It just felt like there was something real there, the potential for a love story that you could read about in novels, see in movies, even hear in songs. Instead, you were casted off as a casual plaything. There was no care behind the long nights spent tangled in one another’s embrace.

“You know,” There was a laugh erupting, your arms over your chest. “JJ is gonna get bored of you. If she can leave her husband, she will leave you too. I think the day she does that is the day that you will feel the same way that I do. And you know what? I hope it fucking hurts. I hope she keeps you up at night wondering why you weren’t good enough.”

With that, you were done. Emily would most definitely be calling you in her office for a meeting in the morning, so you just grabbed your bag and walked to the elevator.

You said what you needed to say and you thought it would make you feel relieved, instead, there was more hurt than you could’ve possibly fathomed.

How stupid you were to think that he actually saw something in you.

#criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid au #spencer reid fanfic #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #strawbeerossi august series #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid scenario

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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

Text

REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

TOO MANY BEDS

DCXDP, GEN

——

The Wayne foundation was a giant in the corporate world. What made it impressive was that their company was based in Gotham where, despite or perhaps in spite of the frequent rogue attacks and general hostile environment, the Waynes managed to run a tight and efficient ship. Their operations run extremely smoothly.

However, that was not to say there were no mistakes. There were. Wayne Enterprises usually had enough-more than enough- budget to cover such mistakes.

The employees, after all, were humans (though their new CEO, Timothy Drake, might have been a vampire considering how pale he was) and were prone to make mistakes.

Thus, due to the nature of human mistakes, the visiting senior class of Amity Park’s Casper High found themselves in a rather baffling situation.

“Well, we can’t say there’s not enough beds.” Their chaperone-teacher, Mr. Lancer rubbed the back of his bald head.

Before them laid not ten, not twenty, but fifty five twin beds arranged in neat rows in Gotham Academy’s auditorium.

“What is this, the military?” Their other chaperone-teacher, Mr. Falluca, grumbled.

“It’s not like we haven’t slept in worse places.” Sam grimaced. The class collective shuddered as they remembered the junior camping trip from hell.

“Ugh, my hair is going to get frizzy if we sleep here.” Paulina muttered.

“I thought we were getting called here for cheer or something.” Star frowned. Her boyfriend of four years, Kwan, slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to comfort her.

The doors open as a harried Wayne Industries employee ran in.

“I am so, so sorry! This isn’t where we were supposed to have you stay but WE mistook the donation request and sent in beds instead of paying for hotel rooms!” They blurted out, looking panicked. “Your hosting class - we’ll have you meet them outside, maybe?”

“It’s fine, right guys?” Danny spoke up, arms crossed. Tucker hummed at his side, tapping quickly at his

“Yeah, whatever Fentina says,” Dash grumbled. After the reveal of Danny’s identity as Phantom, his hostility and bullying died a quick death. Though, Dash kept the nicknames as they were a hard habit to kick and there weren’t any malicious intent behind it. In fact, Dash quickly became one of Danny’s biggest supporters, hidden behind scowls and general posturing.

“We could just meet in here. Get rid of the bedframes and just have a giant sleepover while you guys get everything sorted out.” Valerie volunteered.

“That’s a great idea!”

The class, coordinated from years of ghost attacks, quickly assembled the giant floor mattress. Gotham Academy’s senior class filed in ten minutes later, gaping at the giant floor mattress(es) before whooping and joining Casper High’s seniors in tumbling around.

——

Danny threw an empty plastic water bottle at Kwan’s head.

“Hey! No PDA on the giant mattress!”

“Yeah, get that love shit out of here!” Someone else hollered.

“There might technically be only one bed, now, but it’s still multiple mattresses!” Stephanie Brown, one of Gotham Academy’s seniors heckled.

“Hey, Danny, it’s your turn for truth or dare!” Tim said.

“Truth.” Danny returned.

“Lameeee.”

“C’mon Fenturd, too chicken to do dare?”

“Danny, that’s so boring,” Sam smirked.

Danny scowled. “Hey, whose side are you on?”

Sam and Tucker grinned and said in unison, “The winning side, duh.”

Tim cut in. “So, what’s the worst thing that’s happened to you?”

Danny groaned. “Camping trip, no contest.”

“Camping trip?”

——

#dcxdp #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #Stephanie Brown #gotham academy #dc x dp #Casper high #star #kwan #mr. lancer #Mr. Falluca #Paulina #star and kwan’s relationship #camping trip from hell

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lordgirlfriend · 2 years

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my twt drafts are so 💀💀

#girlfriends mentally ill #it’s like venting all the ugliest parts of myself and then filing them away #i have levels of myself that like i feel like if people knew it’d be fine it’s not important enough to me if you know #but then like the ugly shit #the stuff i’m so close to saying out loud but then chicken out bc like if people knew that i don’t think i could look anyone in the eye #i draft it #or i use my old spam/privates #and it’s like #stuff so bad that sometimes i’m like damn maybe i need help #maybe i should tell someone #but at the same time #💀💀#and it’s with everything i share even if i admit yeah i’m in the gutter rn #it’s like .. everyone else deals with their problems themselves and yeah it can get bad and toxic but why can’t i deal with it on my own too #why am i so fucking weak that i can’t deal with myself … i piss myself off so much over this all the time. like why do i have to open my #mouth and embarrass myself like that why can’t i just shut up #and deal with it #everyone else can so why can’t i be strong enough to do it too #and mostly i keep it in just to prove to myself i can even though i’m like . staying up till 3 and feeling so sick of myself i could throw #up #anyways #im experiencing a crash rn #💭

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leviismybby · 6 months

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AOT veterans walking in on you and Levi

Erwin

Once and never again, he was so caught up in his work that he forgot for a moment that you and Levi were a couple. He didn't have time to finish his reports so he wanted to ask Levi to do it for him. Now, he did knock on the door of your bedroom but he didn't wait for a response which was a mistake. You and Levi were in the middle of it, his body on top of yours, your nails digging into his back as his hips moved passionately until.....Erwin clears his throat, luckily the sheet was over you and Levi so he didn't see the full thing, it was still awkward either way. "Sorry for the interruption but I need to borrow Levi for a moment. Do meet outside once you're decent." Erwin exits the room and Levi groans. "I stand stand this fucking place sometimes." He pulls out of you gently, kissing your forehead before getting up.

You watch the fresh marks on his back as he gets ready, he pulls up his underwear and pants, the frown on his face almost makes you laugh. Levi makes his way outside in the hallway. "What the fuck do you want?" Erwin looks at him. "For you to finish these, I have to attend a meeting and don't have time. Also, to learn how to lock the door when you and name are.... Busy." Levi scoffs at Erwin's words and takes the file from his hand. "Learn how to knock first, Smith." Erwin chuckled at Levi's tone before adjusting his coat. "I did, you two were too caught up in the moment to notice." He nods his head at Levi and then turns around to walk away, Levi glares at his back before he returns to your bedroom. It didn't affect Erwin at all, after all, you and Levi were soldiers and he understood that stress needed to be taken care of one way or another. But he was very careful since then, not catching you ever again.

Hange

Not going to lie, this one was completely on you and Levi. Levi couldn't wait for you two to get back to your room so he pulled you into a random room in the headquarters, that room just happened to be Hange's lab. You two were kissing, you were bent over a table, your hands gripping the wood as Levi pounded you. Somehow, you both missed Hange's voice coming down the hallway. "...so you see I have some in my- oh hello." Hange says, their eyes going slightly wide before they smile. "How did you manage to bend her over like that??" "Dammit Hange! Get the fuck out!" Levi growled, covering your body and his voice was rough. "Hey I am the one who is supposed to be the mad one here, you two are fucking in MY lab-" Levi takes a folder and throws it at them, Hange quickly hides behind the wall. "Okay okay, I get it.." They close the door quickly before their squad arrives. "Squad leader is everything okay?" Nifa asks carrying a stack of books Hange told her to bring to her lab. Hange is trying not to laugh as they speak. "It's all fine Nifa but umm my lab is currently preoccupied. Why don't you all bring those books to my office and I'll be there in a second kay?" Their squad nods and walks past her, Hange giggles to themselves before opening the door to purposely mess with you and Levi some more. "Well that's a new position." "Hange!" Both of you say at the same time and they snicker before closing the door behind them. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with them...?" Levi asks, his hands on your hips, still inside of you. "It's Hange, you know how they are..." You say holding onto him tightly. "This was a bad idea but I am not stopping now." He kisses you again. Hange caught you before but this one was most entertaining for them.

Miche

Was not impressed at all, he caught you two while you two were at the training ground. It was late at night and Levi couldn't help it after seeing you all hot and sweaty after training. Miche was preparing the training grounds for tomorrow's training, he was setting up the training dolls and making sure that all the equipment was put right. He heard weird sounds coming from the trees nearby and decided to check it out. To his surprise it wasn't anyone in pain, it was you moaning as Levi was on his knees in front of you eating you out while your hands gripped his hair. Miche peeked around the tree and quickly looked away but he wasn't afraid to make his presence known. "Seriously? Out here?" His voice spoke surprising both you and Levi, Levi quickly stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as you pulled your pants up. "Why on the titans name are you out here?" Levi says, clearly frustrated that he was interrupted in the moment with you. "I am doing my job unlike you." Miche comes around the tree and crosses his arms over his chest as he looks down at the two of you. Levi glares up at him and you can't meet his gaze out of embarrassment. "You two do know that if I report this to Erwin he can give you a punishment." Miche says keeping his voice calm, despite his words you and Levi both know that he won't do it, he said it the last time too but never actually told on you. Besides, Erwin wouldn't bother with the matter anyway. "And what? You think someone will actually punish me for having private time with my girlfriend?" Levi says back leaning against the tree as you sigh. "That's not the issue Levi. The issue is that you two keep doing these activities everywhere else apart from your bedroom it seems." Silence follows after that, it's not like Miche is in the wrong here. "Well then, I'll be off. But please for the love of everything, her a room." He chuckles slightly as he walks away. You groan. "You couldn't wait?" Levi looks at you as you say that. "No. Now spread your legs and lean back on the tree."

Nanaba

The worst luck, she walks in on the two of you in Levi's office. You were sitting on his lap riding him as he gripped your hips, his lips kissing your jaw when you speed up your hips. The two of you were close to your orgasms until. "Captain Levi, I was told you have the......training....schedule." Nanaba stops in her tracks and quickly turns around and exits the office not wanting to invalidate your privacy. She decides after a few seconds to talk through the door, yes it's an awkward situation but she still needs to get her job done. "I apologize for that. I was just wondering if the training schedule is done so I can forward it to other soldiers." Nanaba spoke firmly through the door, as she expected, there was no answer. She was about to walk away when papers slid from under the door, Nanaba picks them up and looks at them. "Thanks Levi." She walks away, slightly shocked at what she just saw still, she can't help but laugh a little, she will now have something to tease you about. Levi was annoyed that he was interrupted at the most intense times. "At least she respected our privacy." He says and sits back down on his chair, pulling you on his lap. "Levi...I thought you just learned your lesson." You smile as he kisses from your neck. "I locked the door since people in this place clearly have zero fucking moral."

Moblit

Oh poor thing, he is the one that never caught anyone like that so he was super flustered. He didn't even know how to react when he caught you and Levi in the library. It was evening and all Moblit wanted was to read a book. On the other side of the library, you and Levi were making out against the bookshelf, your hands and legs wrapped around Levi tightly as he entered you. Levi did hear someone open the library door so he put a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he continued to thrust into you. Moblit had a gas lamp in his hand as he went on to look for a book to read until he took a step around the corner and then, his lamp dropped on the floor as he saw you and Levi. "I am so sorry! I didn't know- I didn't mean to!" He quickly takes any book from the bookshelf and just runs out of the library with a blushing face. You laugh when you hear the door close. "Poor Moblit. He must be modified." Levi scoffs, his cock sliding in and out of you. "I don't fucking care. I heard him come in, his fault for being too curious." He kisses you on the lips again. Hange laughs as they get Moblit to tell them what got him blushing so much. "You'll get used to it. I caught them in my lab once, they have zero shame." Hange taps Moblit on the shoulder. And for a few days Moblit tried to avoid you and Levi as much as he could, though he didn't judge you two at all.

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pastanest · 10 months

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Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: guess who’s back with another shrimp reid fic. that’s right, you guessed it, Im ovulating

gif from an unnamed source on google so if it’s yours please let me know and I’ll credit!! ♡

Mean It

The bond you have formed with the resident genius of the BAU is one that you treasure. Every morning, you are most excited to practically skip into the office with the brightest smile on your face, just for him. The wonder, the magic that is Doctor Spencer Reid, and you are lucky enough to call him your closest friend.

He is endlessly fascinating to you. Unlike the rest of the team, you have never once cut one of his rambles short, you have listened to each and every one in its entirety, with stars in your eyes.

The two of you talk about anything and everything, from the most mundane smalltalk to the deepest philosophical debates, and you enjoy every moment spent in Spencer’s company.

However, as you perch on Spencer’s desk in what has become a morning tradition, the look on your face as you glance around the office makes your dear friend’s heart sink, because he knows who you are looking for.

And right on cue, Derek Morgan strolls into the office, yelling an overly enthusiastic question that is - much to Spencer’s dismay - ritualistic, too.

“WHERE’S MY PRETTY GIRL?”

The beaming smile on your face as you hop off of Spencer’s desk and run into Derek’s open arms is worse than a bullet wound, which Spencer knows to be true without any actual proof.

He watches on, wondering if his skin is turning green with jealousy, as Derek picks you up and spins you around, the two of you laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world. What’s so funny about that? Spencer thinks bitterly, frowning at his computer and forcing himself to shift his focus, though his subconscious continues to grumble. If he was ever allowed the privilege of holding you like that, the last thing he’d do is laugh about it.

Thankfully, the morning event is over as quickly as it began, and you skip back over to Spencer with a smile that’s different to the one you had for Derek. What shade of green is Spencer now?

“Sorry about that, Spence, gotta reach my daily hug quota!” You chime.

Spencer’s stomach drops. He wants so badly to offer his own services, to perhaps suggest some variety in who is allowed to meet your daily-hug-quota and enquire whether you’d consider his application, whether he meets your criteria. But, in what can only be described as the worst preconceived notion in human history, Spencer does not like physical contact in the majority of circumstances, as you have well known since the day you met him and he proposed a kiss would hold less germs than a handshake, which made you blush in a way his eidetic memory has never let him forget. He wishes, more than anything, he could travel back in time to that very day, to add a clause to the contract he’d bound himself to, some fine-print that said ‘physical contact from and with (Y/N) is the only exception to every typical circumstantial preference for no physical contact’. Alas, Spencer Reid had unintentionally doomed himself.

Today is a rarity, in which the team have spent the day confined to the BAU building, filing case reports and talking amongst themselves. You speak to Spencer most of all, because on the occasion anyone else speaks to him, he finds he is too distracted by you to fully focus his efforts on the conversation.

As per usual, you wait at the elevator doors for Spencer, never walking out of the office without him in an unspoken gesture of your sweet appreciation for his company.

“Oh, Spence, did you want to have a Doctor Who sleepover tonight?” You suggest suddenly, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen and his heart to skip simultaneously.

“Y-Yes! Of course!” He blurts out, perhaps a little too quickly. Perhaps, he should have paused for a beat, giving you the impression he had been able to form a degree of a coherent thought before he answered you.

Instead, Spencer spends the elevator ride down to the ground floor glancing at you with a dazed look in his eyes, like you are the first star he’s ever seen and he’s too shy to look at you for too long. Why would he be shy in the presence of a star? Stars are out of his reach, beyond the realm of his capability to hold. That metaphor had been far more applicable than he’d realized.

The drive to your house is spent in accordance with your typical pre-sleepover routine; Spencer says he doesn’t mind what music you play, and you select one of your many playlists at random, singing and dancing in such a theatrical way in the passenger seat of Spencer’s car that he truly wonders if he didn’t have an IQ of 187, would he be able to split his focus between adoring you and concentrating on the road?

In what feels like no time at all, you and Spencer are sitting on your sofa with a blanket each and a bowl of popcorn between you that Spencer finds himself internally cursing with every unkind word he knows, as he does each and every time that pathetic plastic bowl forms an impassable barrier between him and you. Occasionally, his fingers are lucky enough to brush yours if you happen to reach for popcorn at the same time. You always chuckle like it’s a coincidence, never quite catching onto the way in which Spencer studies your movements in his peripheral vision to calculate, down to a fine science, how long it takes you to finish one handful of popcorn before you’ll reach for another, and he can just so happen to plan his movements accordingly. All for a brush of your fingertips. In truth, Spencer would run through a burning building just for the chance to hold your hand, even if it wasn’t promised. The chance, that’s all he needs.

In the midst of what is otherwise a very traditional evening shared between the two of you, Spencer feels different. The more he thinks about how this evening could play out if Derek Morgan were in his place, the more Spencer wonders if his eyes are playing tricks on him or if the skin of his hands is turning green with jealousy. Would the bowl of popcorn be in the same place? Would it be on your lap, or Derek’s, allowing the two of you to sit closer, considering you already showcase just how comfortable you are together? Or would it be on the coffee table, leaving no obstruction between you and Derek at all? Would his arm be around you, and would your arm be around him in return? Would you be telling Derek the pieces of movie trivia that Spencer had been the one to tell you, when you watched a movie with Derek that you had previously seen with Spencer? Do you wish Derek was here with you instead? ‘Nauseous’ is too small a word and does not contain enough profanities.

“I’m not gonna get through all this popcorn on my own, Spence.” You chuckle quietly, having noticed that your company hasn’t reached for popcorn in some time due to how cold your hand feels, having not flushed at the sensation of his fingertips in too long.

“Sorry, not hungry.” Spencer murmurs.

The sadness in his voice sets off alarm bells in your head immediately, and you pause the movie, discarding the bowl of popcorn that Spencer’s scowl follows all the way to the coffee table, while you turn to face him on your couch.

“Spence, what’s the matter? Do you feel sick?” You ask gently.

Yes, actually, viscerally.

“Nothing, I’m-“

You shake your head, the only time you’ll ever cut him off is when he tries to deflect. “Don’t. I can see something’s wrong, and if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay, but can you please tell me what I can do to help?”

Of course, Spencer’s feelings for you have a solid foundation in the perceptive and attentive person that you are, forever seeing right through him.

“Do you…Do you ever have movie nights with Morgan?” He asks timidly, his head hanging in shame, his gaze fixed on his lap.

Spencer’s question completely catches you off guard, and your jaw drops, an amused smile gracing your features in utter bewilderment.

“What? No, Derek’s never even stood on my doorstep, Spence, why do you ask?” You question the motives of his query, and he sighs in defeat.

“I just figured…you’re so comfortable with him, you must want to spend time with him outside of work, too. I guess I just don’t understand why you’d invite me instead. Do you pity me, or something?” Spencer asks in a dejected and small voice.

The cogs in your brain are turning, your expression softening in turn.

“Spencer, I don’t pity you, I invite you because I enjoy spending time with you.” There’s a delicacy to your words, recognising his fragile state.

And Spencer’s foolish, lovesick heart sings from beneath the ruins at your words, at the tiniest spark of hope that is immediately suffocated by his own insecurities.

One word from you has the power to make and break him, all at once.

“But you enjoy Derek more.” Spencer’s voice breaks on the last word he speaks, and he closes his eyes in a pained blink, turning his face away from you completely in an effort to shield himself from the kindness he’ll see in your gaze. “You sit with me every morning while you wait for him, and the second he’s there, you’re gone. The way you smile at him isn’t the same way you smile at me. I understand that you don’t feel the same way about me, but I don’t understand why you’d waste any time on me outside of work, based on that.” Spencer is trying his absolute best to phrase everything he says in his usual objective, matter-of-fact tone, but the hurt in his words is so clear.

“Spencer,” You sigh gently, “Will you look at me, please?”

He shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Why not?” You ask in the same soft voice that makes his heart ache.

“I’ll forget how much this hurts the moment I look at you.” Spencer mutters.

“Don’t you want to forget?” You question, almost pleading.

Spencer shakes his head. “If I forget, I’ll throw myself back into the same cycle of pining for you, living off of your smiles and glances and the instances where I make you laugh.”

Your heart breaks at his words, and for a few seconds, you don’t say anything. The very moment the idea enters your mind, you reach for Spencer’s hand, holding it gently in both of yours, and immediately, his wide eyes have turned to stare at you.

And your tears. You must have only started crying after you last spoke to him, because if you had been crying in the midst of your reply, Spender wouldn’t have been able to hear anything else.

And just like he predicted, the sight of you makes him forget every ounce of his own pain, his heart breathing a sigh of relief and reaching out for you in pure anguish at the sight of you, in tears.

“Why are you crying?” Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper. If it wasn’t for your tears, the way you are holding his hand would render him incapable of forming a single word.

“Because you have no idea that you’re my favorite person in the universe, Spencer.” You sniffle.

Spencer frowns slightly. “Please don’t say that if you don’t-“

“I mean it.” You cut his deflection short again. “I come into the office every morning excited at the thought of seeing you, and I stay sitting on your desk, as close to you as I’m allowed to be, until we’re forced to work; the only time I leave your desk in the mornings is to briefly greet Derek, because he is the only person who knows how I feel and he hugs me in the way I wish you would, to make me feel better.” You explain through your tears. “And you’re right, I don’t smile at you the same way I do at Derek.”

Spencer is uncertain as to whether his heart has given out entirely.

He blinks. Once. Twice. And a third time. Then rapidly, six times, to blink the tears away that dared blur the perfect vision of you in front of him.

“I treat you differently to Derek because I adore you enough to never want to risk overstepping your boundaries with physical contact. I sit on your desk to resist hugging you every morning, I put a bowl of popcorn between us whenever we watch a movie because I’m afraid I’ll subconsciously lean closer to you, and it hurts to put those limitations in place, to feel the ever present distance between us, but I don’t care, because I do it for you, and I’d do it for you forever.” You add, the words falling from your lips so easily, Spencer can almost feel how long you’ve been holding them in.

“(Y/N)…” He chokes out the only word his heart and soul can remember in this moment.

“I never meant to make you feel like you are less important, or that I like you less- I’m so sorry.” The waterfalls from your eyes are too constant for you to manage now, and you let go of Spencer’s hand to hold your own face instead, hiding yourself and your guilt from him in your state of vulnerability.

Spencer glances at the popcorn bowl on the coffee table for a fraction of a second, before he shuffles over on the couch to occupy the space he had been aching to steal from that bowl since your very first sleepover, and very slowly, he wraps his arms around you. And it’s instinctual, the way your hands come away from your face as you wrap your own arms around his neck, your face finding the home it had always longed for in Spencer’s shoulder. As if slotting into place, you find yourself sitting on his lap with no real understanding of how you got there, because all that matters is that he is holding you there.

“I’m sorry for getting jealous, I had no right to.” Spencer’s apology breaks the silence, and he speaks into your hair, his every sense soaking in the sensation, the scent of you.

“I’m glad you did, but you didn’t need to. I’ve been yours since the day we met.” You say, as if your words are a casual statement and not life-altering in a way that changes Spencer Reid’s very brain chemistry.

“You’ve been mine?” He repeats your statement as a disbelieving question.

Wiping your tears with your sleeve, you sigh dramatically. “Yep. Just waited around for you to notice.”

And Spencer can’t quite believe it, but he laughs, shaking his nose into your hair and holding you tighter against his chest.

“I’m sorry for being oblivious, in that case.” He apologizes, his tone more lighthearted now.

“I’m sorry too.” You chuckle.

“From what I understand of confession-scenes, they are not supposed to contain this many apologies.” Spencer muses, making you laugh heartily, his soul very nearly rising out of his body at the sound.

“Everyone knows the best confessions have a bit of angst.” You joke, and Spencer nods, laughing with you.

“And you do have a proclivity for dramatics.” Spencer teases, and you playfully poke his chest, the two of you sharing a giggle like a pair of giddy teenagers.

A pleasant minute of silence passes as you revel in holding each other, an intimacy once pined after finally being felt in full-force, until a question rises in you that simply has to be asked, or you will burst.

“Does this mean that, going forward, our sleepovers can include makeouts?” You pull away from Spencer’s chest enough to watch the shade of pink blossom in his cheeks, his pupils dilating as he looks into your eyes, and he nods.

“I-I believe that is a feature that is well-worth adding to our list of sleepover activities.”

And when he says it like that, how can a girl be expected to do anything but kiss him senseless in response?

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #Spotify

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kozachenko · 3 months

Text

[Click image for better quality]

I FIGURED OUT A WAY TO FUCKING MAKE THE IMAGE SMALLER FOR POSTING ON TUMBLR WITHOUT SACRIFICING THE ACTUAL QUALITY OF THE IMAGE OH MY GOD

Ok so, what I did is go into the clip studio paint file, make a new file, copy and paste the group in the original file, merge everything, get rid of the extra stuff outside of the canvas, and then make the flattened image smaller and crop the canvas. Once you have that, export it and you're done. This helps maintain the actual quality of the image and also helps shrink the file size down to something actually postable (if anyone has a better way of doing this please tell me)

[Edit]: Ok I guess posting something to Tumblr just naturally compresses the image a bit more somehow because I'm looking at it now and zooming in too much makes it a bit blurry so I'm still gonna have to futz around with image quality for future pieces oof

Artist's Note:

I'm so glad I figured out a way to do this because I like working on a big canvas so I can get as much detail in as I possibly can. Only problems are how laggy it gets while drawing lol.

I had an idea for a drawing with Reimu and Zanmu because I really like thinking about their potential dynamic a lot. I also wanted an excuse to draw Zanmu again but in my normal rendering style because last time I drew her she was in my more sketchy style with generally flat colours so I wanted to draw her again. Speaking of, looking at the sketch for this is a jumpscare that I never enjoy seeing, like, man am I glad I didn't use those for my final piece.

Also about her spear. I was originally gonna make it like the ones she had in game, but it kinda threw off the whole piece. It was too big, too blue, and too flat, so I just went "fuck it" and gave her a different one instead. My headcanon justifying this is that the ones she uses in game are for danmaku battles whereas in any other fight she just uses a proper yari, or she still uses the yari and just makes it all glowy to power it up, maybe both lol. I pulled as much inspiration as I could from Sengoku era spears, and even put in some blue into the decorative part of the spear and also added a little skull to pay tribute to the original spear. Also, in my research I saw some art of izanami and izanagi making japan and saw that the yari izanagi has had a little decorative tassley thingy on it so I took some inspo from that and just made it one of Zanmu's tassles (Idk when that art was from or if the spear was still accurate to Sengoku period Japan but hey, probably the same reasons Eirin puts little bow ties on her arrows, it's just for personalization purposes).

I love rendering hair and clothes so much omg, while I like the super curly hair Zanmu, the longer, wavier hair suits her better for this drawing (I imagine it only does that like how Ghibli characters hair moves when they feel angry lol). I love making Zanmu's hair all messy and crazy, as well as giving her grey hairs, this woman has aged like a fine wine. Also, if the hem on the ends of her sleeves, top of her shirt, and her pants look like gold to you, that's because it is! It's fairly light so she's not collapsing under the weight, but it's gold! (I don't care how impractical it is, it's just cool). Not the undershirt though, it's made of a gold fabric. I had a cute idea with Reimu's hair to make it have a red shine to it. I also changed up Reimu's outfit so it isn't just a blob of red. I like it a lot when Reimu's skirt and outfit is segmented into different layers, so I wanted to incorporate that.

I tried to draw their hands differently as well, but IDK how noticeable that is. Also, I am super happy with how the side profiles for the two of them turned out, I used to struggle a lot with how to make the side profile of a character actually look like the character, so I'm really happy that they actually look like themselves.

Also added in the tree and rocks in the background as an homage to Zanmu's character art in Touhou 19, just because I was getting kinda stumped on what to do with the background lol.

In terms of a story idea with Reimu and Zanmu, idk why but the potential plotline of Zanmu wanting to ascend to godhood is so fascinating to me. Like, it is very possible that if she just convinced everyone she was a god (which would be very easy for her to do), she would become one in a heartbeat. Also, if she were to become a god, with her ability to return stuff to nothing, could she hypothetically get similar abilities to (Jojo Part 5 spoiler btw) GER? Like, idk about the death timeloop stuff, but the concept has been haunting me every night as I have been trying to find loopholes in GER's ability for a while now ( for no reason in particular). Back to the main topic, I imagine that she would probably tell Reimu that if she were to become a god she would take over the Hakurei shrine since the god there might as well be dead, and Reimu just says to her, "Over my dead body bitch." Like, I have no idea how to summarize their dynamic but like, it's the type of hero-villain dynamic where the phrase "We're not so different, you and I" would definitely be a phrase said during a fight. I think that if another IN style game were to release, Reimu and Zanmu would be in a team together. They could also have an interesting mentor and pupil kind of dynamic. Can you tell that Zanmu has been charging my mind rent these part few months? Like, instead of living in my head rent free, she kinda just uno reversed the whole situation and now she's the one charging me rent. What happens if I get evicted from my own brain? Actually, scratch that, I don't think I wanna know.

#touhou project #art #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #touhou #東方project #zanmu nippaku #unfinished dream of all living ghost #reimu hakurei #東方

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paradiseprincesss · 24 days

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Absolutely ANYTHING with psychiatrist reader x patient jon crane! We don’t have enough of these 😭 and I loveee your fics so far!

Just a suggestion, maybe him meeting reader who has suppressed feelings for him in order to not cross any professional boundaries, at her place after breaking out of Arkham. Could be angsty with some intense lovemaking afterwards (once again, it’s totally up to you what you want to write. This was just an idea I had. No smut is fine too)

experience - jonathan crane x psychiatrist!reader

hello my love - this is such a good idea! i tried to write it the way you explained it so i hope this lives up to all ur expectations haha <3 and thank you for the kind words! i had so much fun writing this!

summary: falling in love with your patient was not something you ever thought you'd experience - but what if he's fallen for you too?

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut 18+ mdni!!, mentions of suicide, swearing, p in v, masturbation, slight choking, kind of size kink lowkeyyy, just sex lol

working at arkham asylum was...interesting to say the least. you were in the last year of your psychiatry residency, and after this you'd be a full, licensed, practicing doctor specializing in psychiatry. it was exciting for sure, but dealing with your patients at arkham was no easy feat.

you'd seen it all - criminals, drug addicts, the insane; all of it. every single day there was something, wether that was an patient or inmate causing a riot or someone having a mental breakdown and hanging themselves in their cell - there was always something happening.

however, there was one patient; inmate - that stood out the most to you; jonathan crane.

he'd been your patient for the last eight months as none of your colleagues wanted to take him on because of who he was - but you loved a challenge. you wanted to prove yourself to your higher-ups, you wanted to show the preceptor in charge your residency program to see what you were capable of.

so, you offered to take him off everyone else's hands - and well, you'd come to partially regret that decision. however, your higher-ups and preceptor were impressed by your skills. he wasn't easy to deal with, that's for sure. he was the scarecrow after all - and don't forget, he was a psychiatrist himself.

though, you had a hold on him the same way he had a hold on you - but you didn't tell him that. jonathan made it clear from the start that he found you attractive, even behind bars and wrapped up in a straightjacket he would find ways to flirt with you, talk to you, or get your attention.

today, you had a scheduled session with jonathan to see if any progress was being made regarding his medication (which you knew he never took), and his behaviour.

your black pumps clicked against the wooden floor, and you closed the door quietly behind you, taking a seat in your office chair. you pulled up his file quickly on your laptop, and he sat a few feet away from you on the plush couch in your office. straightjacket and all.

"good morning, jonathan." you say, finally looking up from your laptop and locking eyes with him - god, his eyes were so pretty.

he never addressed you as "doctor" with your last name following, but instead, he insisted on calling you by your first name, or some pet name he felt like using that day.

you didn't mind actually, he was one of your more...tame and easy patients that you had, if not the easiest to deal with.

"you look beautiful as always." he said, and you smile at him sweetly. "thank you, jonathan."

today, you wore a black, mid-length pencil skirt and white blouse, with your hair down in your favourite style, some black pumps - and you finished it off with your doctors coat, of course.

skimming over his file, you type a few quick notes into your laptop - freshly done nails clicking over the keys in the otherwise silent office. after that, you got up and went over to him, helping him out of the straightjacket as he sat there in his white arkham inmate jumpsuit.

at first, you didn't let him have this privilege, but as he proved himself to be non-temperamental over time, it started off with the loosening of the straightjacket just a little...then taking it off fully but making sure he wore handcuffs. slowly, under your careful watch, you allowed him the freedom of zero restraints in your office once he proved he wasn't a threat or a danger towards you.

"let's get you out of this." you say softly, and he stays quiet for a moment, just stretching once the restraint was fully off of him. you had a different method of approaching him than the other doctors who worked (and gave up) with him.

you noticed that in a calmer, less hectic environment he responded better. so instead of having check-ups in his cell or in an interrogation room like you did with all your other patients, you let him chill in your office - restraint free.

you returned to your chair, and started to type away as you asked him the usual questions.

"how are you feeling today?"

"fine, i missed seeing your face though. seeing you three times a week isn't enough for me anymore." he says to you, making you stop typing and look up at him.

"please elaborate for me, jonathan." you say clinically, trying to ignore the way your heart started to race when he said that.

"you know what i mean. you're the only thing keeping me sane in here." he says to you with a pleading tone, making you sigh as you continue to write down your clinical notes onto the laptop.

"but you're making progress, jonathan. you seem to be doing better, there's no need for me to be seeing you more frequently." you answer curtly, but pause for a moment for letting the next few words slip out in a hushed tone, "...unless you feel like you need a few extra therapy sessions on a weekly basis."

he smirks, looking you up and down - clearly checking you out with no shame. "that's exactly what i need. i'm going crazy without you. i'd be so good to you if you were mine..." he throws in that last part quickly, but you catch it.

you clear your throat and try not to pay any mind to it, as to appear professional - but he's slowly breaking your walls down. he already has. you couldn't even lie to yourself - you were attracted to your patient. fuck, maybe you were even in love with him - how could you not be?

the fluffy brown hair, slightly tousled and messy, those beautiful, blue eyes that reminded you of sapphires, those plump, pink lips that-

no, stop it, you told yourself, focus on your job.

"ah, um- have you been taking your medications?" you ask softly, giving him a small smile to which he returns. "...yeah." he says hesitantly, and you know he's lying - you find the little cup the nurses gave him full of the pills he's supposed to be taking every time you check up on how he's feeling in his cell.

but you turn a blind eye - you may have been giving him special treatment because you were attracted to him, but you tried to tell yourself it was fine, that it wasn't like you were breaking any professional boundaries because technically, you didn't act on his advances - yet.

"good, just wanted to make sure." you speak in a hushed tone again, typing up all information in his file.

"you're a really good doctor." he says, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you, "you work hard, i can tell."

"thanks, jonathan." you say, trying your hardest to sound detached as you keep your eyes on the laptop in front of you, continuing to type away but he speaks again.

"you're welcome. you're so pretty." he sighs, "is it wrong for me to be having these thoughts about-? never mind, actually."

now it was your turn to sigh, looking up at him with a raised brow. you knew what he was doing, he was literally trying to play mind games with you. he was on purposely trying to get you to pry so he could flirt with you more - but that was your job...right? to pry?

"what thoughts?" you ask, biting your lip. "i have to ask cause...it's my job to know what's going on up here." you gesture to your own temple. he knew that this was indeed your job - to know what was going through his mind.

buuuuut you were definitely curious. the way he would talk to you gave you butterflies. the way he would act out and act violently to everyone except you gave you butterflies - even though it shouldn't have.

"i just can't get you out of my mind, pretty girl. you do things to me. 'm thinking about you when i'm all alone in my cell, how your body would feel. how it feels to kiss you, hold you. what it's like to love you." he breaths out, and you look at him incredulously, feeling your cheeks heat up at his admission.

"well," you stay, breathing slightly staggered now, "you must have an active imagination, then." you couldn't look him in the eye after that. you were trying so hard to suppress your feelings for him that were ever growing.

although one part of you knew it was wrong on both ends, wrong of you to let him effect you this way (and letting it happen), and wrong of him to be talking to you like this - you couldn't stop yourself. however, a part of you wondered if this was really how he felt - or if it was just some ploy to get out of arkham. perhaps he thought if he could get into your head, you would either help him escape or sign his release papers.

you always tried to force yourself to believe that to prevent your fantasies from growing any further - but it drove you wild.

"i know you feel the same way," his voice cut through the silence, snapping you out of your thoughts again, "i have a doctorate in psychiatry - don't forget i can also see right through you and your thoughts too."

"i-i can assure you that this is strictly professional - you and i. i mean, even if it were true, that it was mutual, it wouldn't work. you're my patient in an asylum for the criminally insane and i'm your doctor because you are criminally insane." you say, looking at him with a stoic expression, though both you and him knew of the feelings that were lurking underneath your "professional" facade. "plus, saying this won't help you get out of here any quicker. i'm not stupid."

you entirely regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, and he shot you a look of surprise.

suddenly, he got up off the couch and made his way over to your desk - your heart now palpitating in ways you didn't even realize was physically possible.

he placed his hands on the desk, looming over you - but not in a psychotic way - or threatening, even. he just looked at you up and down, with a small smirk.

"why can't you just give in? i'm not going to tell anyone. it's not like i can, anyway." he said jokingly, but went back to being serious quickly. "please."

the way he said "please" made your breath hitch, and you look up at him with poorly concealed desire. "w-we can't, okay? we just...can't."

"but i have feelings for you - and i know you do too." he insists, and you get up out of your chair, walking over to him, having to look up at him due to your height difference.

"how i feel isn't important," you state, trying so hard not to break your facade. "if you really cared about me, you would stop doing this to me. stop making my job harder than it has to be, please jonathan. it's- it's just not fair. telling me this won't make me sign those papers-"

"fuck the papers, i don't need anything as long as i have you. you're-" he exasperates, but pauses before continuing, "you're all i have in here, you're the only one who's treated me like a person, like a real person with valid emotions. you know who i am and you don't have any fear - you aren't scared of me. you see me for...me."

silence.

after he confessed that to you, it was silent. he stood there, looking at you through his wire-frame glasses that he always wore, and you stood there in shock. at that moment, you didn't know what to say - what to do.

"i'm not feeling well," you suddenly say, "i-i'm going to take the rest of the day off. i'm going to call a nurse to escort you back to your cell." you say quickly, trying to keep your composure.

you weren't very good at that when he was around, but he didn't say anything. he let you process your emotions in your own way - of course he would. but he was plotting.

you paged a nurse to escort him back to his cell early, and you didn't dare look at him when they took him out of your office - too embarrassed and such to do so.

that night, when you got home, you decided to take the next few days off work before returning - you were too high strung with anxiety for work right now; and the cause of that anxiety was literally at work.

you ran yourself a hot shower, dried your hair, and got ready for bed throwing on your silk nightie in your favourite colour. that night, you couldn't sleep at all - constantly tossing and turning in bed, thoughts running wild.

why did it all have to be so complicated?

you didn't understand, honestly. the one guy who actually managed to steal your heart happened to be...him.

you laid in the dark quietly, the only thing light source being the tv on the wall of your bedroom. the sound of your tv playing faintly in the silence, some random show you put on was on in the background.

"can't sleep either?" a familiar voice said softly from the doorway of your bedroom, causing you to let out a small scream from being startled - nobody expects someone to be in their house at nearly 3 am unnoticed.

"what the fuck?!" you say, reaching to turn the light on your bedside table on, and sat up in your bed - seeing the one and only jonathan crane standing in your bedroom looking a little different than before.

he had escaped, that much was clear. but instead of that stupid inmate jumpsuit, he was in his actual suit and tie attire but no scarecrow mask.

"sorry, darling." he cringed at the way he startled you. "hear me out, please. you look beautiful, by the way. you always do."

"jonathan-" you warned.

"i know." he says, walking towards you, now sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched in both fear and awe. "i can't let you go. if 'professional boundaries' are whats standing between us-"

"you broke into my house, jonathan!" you exclaim, cutting him off but he just gives you a small smile, which made your heart leap. "and i'm sorry for that," he explains, "but like i said, now there is nothing standing in between us."

you look at him, and your jaw almost drops. was he for real right now?

"i just wanted you to know that, um, i wasn't just saying those things with the hope that you'd ya know - release me from arkham." he says to you softly, and you nod. "well, you've made that pretty clear by doing...this." you tell him, a small smile playing on your lips.

god, he was crazy - but he was crazy over you, and maybe you were fucked up in your own little way because you found it endearing, the thought of it all excited you.

"you don't need to fight the feeling anymore." he informs you softly, reaching a hand out for you to take - and you do. his hands were surprisingly soft, a little calloused but soft.

"you know how i feel about you, i want to be yours - i want us." you finally tell him.

"be mine, then." he whispers, and you crawl over to him on your king sized bed. you crawl onto his lap, and you can already feel him getting harder by the minute.

"i can't sleep, dr. crane." you tease, calling him 'dr. crane,' instead of the usual 'jonathan.'

he places a trail of kisses down your neck softly, pushing your hair back to do so, and whispers softly to you. "why don't you let me take care of you for once?"

the words gave you shivers, and you felt yourself getting wetter with every word he said - hanging onto them with desperation. "please, baby." you whisper, and he pulls you into a frenzied kiss.

his lips were soft - so soft. you kiss him back and he takes his time with you, hands roaming all over your body as he explored your mouth. you moaned softly into the kiss, giving him the green light to keep going. he pulled away from the kiss hesitantly to undress you.

slowly, he pulled the skimpy little nightie you wore to bed down, past your shoulders - then all the way down. you felt the cold air of your room hit your bare chest, but that feeling was replaced with the new sensation of jonathans warm mouth taking one of your nipples in his mouth. he took the bud in his mouth, licking and sucking.

"oh, baby." you say, letting out a breathless moan at the sensation. in response, he took hold of your other breast and started to play with your nipple between his fingers.

"fuck, need you so bad." you say, profanities leaving your mouth every five seconds with the way he was touching you. "yeah? tell me how badly you need me, sweetheart." he says to you, coming back up to trail kisses along your jawline and neck.

"i need you so bad, jon. please, you're everything i want." you tell him, breathless and soaked. he snaked his hand up to your neck and gave it a light squeeze, keeping his hand there. "fucking jerked off to the thought of you every night in arkham," he says, making your cheeks heat up from the thought, "every time we had our little scheduled meetings - fuck, you looked so good. just the thought of you alone had me cumming all over my fist instantly."

"i-i touched myself to the thought of you in my bed, too." you tell him, making him smirk. "did you?" he cooed, "why don't you show me how you did it. let me see."

that had you blushing, and you swallowed. you nervously laid back, propped up on your elbows as he watched. with a little hesitance, you spread your legs - suddenly feeling very vulnerable. he watched you intently, still smirking, and ran his hand along your lower leg - slowly trailing it up to your thighs, rubbing up and down.

"don't be shy, sweetheart." he says lowly, licking his lips at the sight of your glistening cunt on full display for him. you take your hand and slowly started to rub your clit in front of him, and you can feel how wet you are.

tossing your head back slightly, and closing your eyes you let out a filthy moan, and he groans at the sight of you. you hear his belt buckle being undone, and you open your eyes to see him pulling his cock out - fat and leaking at the tip.

he positioned himself between your spread legs - your hand still rubbing your clit. he started to stroke his cock slowly, the pre cum leaking out the pink head of his cock. it was so big it looked like it could split you in two. "feel good, princess?" he asked, making you nod and moan.

"f-fuck, yeah. f-feels ah- so good, baby." you respond, and he started to rub the head of his cock through your sticky, soaking folds making you whine. "please!"

he chuckled lowly, and pushed into your soaked cunt with no warning. your hands flew to his shoulders, and his hand snaked to your clit to replace yours. "oh fuck-" you say, his cock stretching you out to the limit. you felt so full.

"jesus, sweetheart," he moans as he sunk into you, "fuck- tightest pussy i've ever had. best pussy i've ever had, actually." he decided as he started to thrust himself in and out of you.

"right there, baby ah-" you moan, looking up at him. his fat cock was stretching you so good - he was so deep. as his fingers played with your clit, you couldn't help but start screaming out his name.

"jonathan, fuuuck-!" you were a screaming, moaning mess for him - and he adored it. the sight alone almost had him cumming into your tight little cunt. as he pounded the same spot in your cunt, you felt yourself about to cum for him.

"i-i'm gonna fucking cum, please." you started to beg incoherently, and he moaned as he felt your pussy tighten up around his cock. "cum for me baby, i wanna see your pretty face when you cum." he says to you softly, voice saccharine.

as you came all over his cock, you swore you saw stars. the feeling was otherworldly when your orgasm washed over you. jonathans thrusts started to get sloppy and erratic indicating that he was about to cum, too.

"gonna fill this little pussy up, make sure everyone knows your mine, fuck-" he grunted, "you're gonna be dripping with my cum."

he fucked his cock into you a few more times before stilling with a groan, and his cock twitched inside of you; spilling all of his cum into your cunt, filling you up with everything he had.

he pulled out slowly, and used his fingers to push his cum back into your cunt as soon as it started to leak out, causing you to moan. "what a sight." he sighs out of breath, and you giggle breathlessly to that.

"can we cuddle?" you ask quietly, and he was already pulling you into his arms. "open." he says, fingers covered with both your fluids mixed together at your lips. you wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking them and swallowing the mixture with a little moan. "such a pretty, obedient girl." he coos, making you blush.

you settle into his arms, exhausted, and he holds you close as his heart beat heavily in his chest. he placed a kiss on the top of your head, and you felt your eyes grow heavy.

when you went back to work, you knew you would have to pretend that you didn't know where or how jonathan escaped arkham (to be fair - you still weren't 100% sure on how he actually escaped), but that was still a few days down the road - you were too fucked out and sleepy to think about that right now.

"go to sleep, sweetheart." he says to you softly, turning the light on your bedside table off, "i'll be here when you wake up - i'll always be here. i love you."

with a content sigh, and a sleepily mumbled little "i love you too," you fell asleep wrapped up in your no-longer-forbidden lovers embrace for the night.

together at last.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy imagine #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x f!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian x fem!reader #dr jonathan crane #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x female reader #jonathan crane x y/n #cillian x y/n #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x y/n

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months

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Hey, I love your fics. I wanted to request a bat!bro reader who’s 16 where Bruce has split custody with his mum (he grew up with his mum and wanted split) but it turns out his mum was just using him to get money from Bruce and is kind of neglectful? And he always gives it to her bc he’s a mamas boy?

Stay safe and don’t forget to stay hydrated <33

Thanks anon, you stay hydrated too.

Summary: (Y/N) lives with his mom, but it's not going well.

Warnings: Bruce is protective, neglective mom, brothers are worried for (Y/N), Clark is investigating too, emotional (Y/N).

Bruce noticed something about his son (Y/N). He had split custody with his mother because (Y/N) wanted to be with both of his parents equally. Bruce respected that wish and made an effort to work with his mother.

At first, his mom has agreed too and the two of them worked together to make sure that their son is happy. Bruce's other sons were happy with the results and they loved spending a week with the brother.

But now, there is something that has been going on, but Bruce couldn't quite pinpoint it on anything. He noticed that his former fling had much more nicer clothes. Bruce has sent a very hefty sum in child support for (Y/N), knowing that she is a single mom and she is not as rich as he is.

There wasn't anything wrong with buying new clothes for yourself, but he keeps seeing (Y/N) in the same clothes all the time. Bruce has tried to see it in a logical way, but there was a paranoia in his mind.

He knew that there were stories about women using men's child support to pay for themselves, especially if the men are rich and the sums are very hefty.

Just like in Bruce's case.

He didn't want to be paranoid because it would seem like he was crazy, but what if he was right about (Y/N)'s mom? (Y/N) seemed more anxious and more withdrawn. And when he wasn't in that mood, he became clingy, almost like he was deprived of love at home.

He wasn't clingy before and Bruce found it to be suspicious. He thought about involving CPS and other organizations, but he didn't have any official evidence. Just because someone starts being clingy, doesn't have to mean that they are neglected.

However, it is weird.

Bruce made sure to observe what was going on with (Y/N). The others agreed that something was off with their brother. (Y/N) has always been a happy kid, outgoing and loved to hang out with his brothers, dad and unofficial grandfather, but now, (Y/N) has completely changed.

Sure, you could argue that teenagers change and it was true. But not this quickly and not this drastic.

Bruce has officially decided to get involved, deciding to ask Clark for help. Clark is an investigative journalist and he would be able to do this unnoticed. And Clark would do anything do help his nephew.

He just adored (Y/N) and would do anything to make sure that he is okay. So, he has decided to see what (Y/N)'s mom is doing. All of this looked like a case of neglect and Clark could only hope at this point.

Hopes dies last.

But he knew that the chances are slim of that. He made sure that he followed his mom without her noticing. At first, everything was fine. Until he saw that she was rarely home. She spent her days shopping, hanging out with her friends, spending nights with random men...

And amidst all of that, (Y/N) was all alone. He had become an adult. He had to make himself meals, he had to do everything in the house. Not to mention that he had to pay the bills himself.

And recently the heating got cut off because the mom didn't pay it. Now, that was something that Clark couldn't take. His nephew doesn't deserve this.

He told Bruce that and Bruce has called CPS. Those sums are for (Y/N) and not for her. He got a lawyer too and now he had to wait. Now, she refused Bruce to see his own son.

And now she has messed up.

Bruce quickly filed for full custody, not allowing her to use his son as a weapon. Not going to happen. Absolutely not. The court hearings and preceding's were quick and efficient and Bruce was happy that (Y/N) was finally in his custody.

And it was discovered that his mom committed financial crimes and FBI was looking into her. (Y/N) didn't need to know that and he didn't need to be involved in that.

He really didn't need to be involved in that. But the one thing that makes Bruce mad every time he thought about it was the fact that she used his love and manipulated it.

(Y/N) has always been a mama's boy and she used it as a weapon against her own son. And despite (Y/N) being happy that he left that home behind, but there was this... Weird feeling.

He felt guilty and happy at the same time. He shouldn't be happy that his mother is going to jail soon, but at the same time he shouldn't feel guilty that he is now going to have a better life.

But she wasn't a bad mother at first. She was a great mom, but he knew that money has changed her. Those hefty sums were for him and yet, he gave her the amount every month.

He knows he shouldn't blame himself for it, but in the end he does. How he didn't see the manipulation of his love and adoration for her? How could he have been so blind?

So stupid too?

Bruce knew that he had to talk with (Y/N) about the situation. He started living with them full time a little over two weeks ago. It has not been easy for (Y/N), knowing that his mother was a criminal now and completely changing the way he lived.

He was still withdrawn and Bruce knew that he had to talk to (Y/N). He needed to make sure that (Y/N) knows that he is not at fault. Not happening.

He went to his room where (Y/N) was reading and Bruce gave him a smile as he entered the room sitting next to him. (Y/N) marked the page and put the book down.

It has been silent and (Y/N) couldn't really look at Bruce. And what does Bruce does? He brings (Y/N) into his lap, allowing him to finally find some comfort. (Y/N) didn't want to be clingy anymore, but he wanted comfort.

" Now, I want you to just listen and not talk, okay? " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded.

" None of this is on you. She didn't take good care of you and none of this is on you. Whatever you might see in the media, is not true. You don't have to, no you shouldn't feel guilty. " Bruce has started, gently rocking his son.

He loved to rock him, even when he was a baby he rocked him. (Y/N) loved it a lot and it would always calm him down.

" Now, you mother made her own choices and now she has to answer for them. I know that you feel guilty and once again, you shouldn't feel guilty. You are going to have at least 3 warm meals with us, you won't have to do any chores anymore, you won't worry about bills and more importantly, " Bruce paused, glancing down at his son who was softly shaking while sobbing.

" Now, if you ever need something, do not hesitate. We are all here for you. All of us. From Damian to Alfred. All of us. " Bruce has said, giving him a soft kiss to the side of his head. He nodded to his sons who were waiting outside of the room.

They have entered and hugged their brother tightly, making sure to let him know that he is not at fault. Damian was the one who was the most vocal about it.

(Y/N) was so overwhelmed with emotions, but was happy to have so much support in his life. He didn't really have that support with his mom and all of this has made his head spin. All of it.

But he was happy none the less.

" Thanks guys. Love you all. " (Y/N) said so quietly and Dick openly cooed at (Y/N). Everyone felt their heart bursting from the sheer happiness.

Now they had their brother back. With a little bit more time, he is going to be his old self.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #batkids #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader

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lotte-s-web · 4 months

Text

❝relax ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader, inspo taken from @eyesxxyou's oral fixation

₊˚⭑ warnings: throatfucking with fingers, hobie's fingers in your mouth, mild choking (?), drooling, saliva, implied oral sex (m receiving)

You were stressed. The bright light of your laptop illuminated your face with a ghostly glow as the PDF your professor posted burned its way into your cornea. You were supposed to be hanging out with Hobie, but the workload your school had dumped on the students this semester seemed determined to suck all the joy out of your life and take up most if not all of your time.

Bad as it was already, it got worse when you purposefully ignored it, a feeling of impending doom always hanging over your mind and tainting any attempts to enjoy yourself and unwind. Hell, it was so bad that Hobie, who was always eager to pull you away from work and hang out, had reluctantly let you go back to your laptop after noticing your eyes warrily flit back to the device too many times during a conversation.

In fairness, you’d tried to resist, to tell him that you’d be fine, you didn’t have that much to do, but he’d just raised an eyebrow and pointed out the way your hands were anxiously scratching at themselves, itching to get something done. He’d just laid back and told you that if you were really that stressed because of his presence that he’d let you work so you could get it off your mind. No pressure.

And that’s how you ended up here, sat on your bed with eyes boring into your screen while your hand moved between restlessly gripping at your hair and scribbling down on your notebook any keywords and ideas that came to mind. Your mind felt blocked, too stuffed with stress to think and it was pissing you off how whatever the file was saying seemed to slip out of your mind, escaping like sand between your fingers.

Hobie sat across from you, feet kicked up on your desk, watching as your brows furrowed and your jaw clenched, one hand tangled in your hair while the other tapped your pen against your laptop restlessly. Your teeth were grinding against each other, brows creasing in frustration and concentration as you tried to extract any information at all from the document, your hand clenching around your hair and pen in irritation.

He frowns, taking his feet off your desk to swivel around and set them on the floor, facing you. You don’t budge, still clenching everything so tightly. He sighs and gets up, walking over to stand in front of you.

That gets your attention, your hands loosening their grip and your body relaxing ever so slightly as the disdainful look in your eyes disappears the moment they set on his face above you, replaced with mild confusion at his frown. Hobie’s eyes soften as they zero in on your jaw; it’s still clenched.

“Hobes? You need something?” You ask, tilting the screen of your laptop downward to show you were paying attention to him, setting down your pen on top of your notebook. You don’t expect it when his hand reaches out to hold your jaw, his thumb brushing the line where it meets your chin. His other hand goes to shut your laptop closed; you pay it no mind. Your eyes flutter at his touch, your body melting just a bit more into the warmth of his palm.

He tilts your head up and leans down to press a kiss to your lips, slipping his thumb between the seal he’s created to press down on your lower lip and pull your loosened lips apart ever so slightly. He pulls away, gazed settled on the way your jaw was still tense. His brows furrow, his thumb dragging over your soft lower lip.

“Love, y’gotta relax,” he chides softly, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You don’t resist, parting your teeth to let his thumb hook into your jaw and pry it open. “Y’re g’na get a migraine if ya keep bein’ tense like tha’.”

He sighs when you just continue to look up at him, eyes shining dumbly with the desire to please. His other hand then settles on the back of your neck, making you shiver, before it travels up to tangle itself in the hair at the back of your head.

“Loosen up, dove,” he murmurs at you, “let me help ya.” He gently pulls your head back as you whine at the touch defiantly, voice betraying the way your body seemed so eager to follow him. His voice vibrates through your chest as he hums approvingly, your jaw unlocking to let his hands move you to their will. Your eyes are wide open and settled on him, eager for his validation.

He keeps you like that, staring intensely into the cavern of your mouth as he watches drool collect behind your tongue, threatening to overflow and drip out of your lips and down your chin. You whine as your jaw and mouth grow tired, bringing your tongue beneath the rough pad of his thumb to lick over it as drool starts to leak out the corner of your lips.

He chuckles at that, shaking his head as he removes his hand from your hair to hold at your neck, keeping you stable as he takes his other hand away from your mouth. He coos at you, bringing his hand back to your mouth to tap slender fingers on the wet muscle of your tongue, making you moan as he starts to slide them deeper into your throat.

You gag as the long digits curl into the soft flesh within it, hands coming up to grab at his wrist in an attempt to pull him back and make him go slower. Then the hand around your neck tightens just a bit and you moan, reluctantly removing your hands from his wrist and keeping them to yourself.

“Y’can take i’,” he encourages, starting to slide his fingers across your tongue and down your throat, training your gag reflex to retract at the intrusion of his hand, “be good, love.” He smiles at you as you nod, growing compliant under the influence of the long digits making space for themselves within the soft walls of your throat. He fucks your mouth at a steady rhythm, soaking in the soft sounds of your compliant pleasure in taking just his digits.

The longer your mouth stays agape, the more drool collects on your tongue, coating his fingers and your own chin in a wet, glistening sheen. You moan as your gag reflex subsides, throat tightening around the soaked digits at every dip into the soft pocket. The sound of soft, wet squelching and your small sounds of pleasure fill the room as Hobie stays silent, watching, observing the effect he has on you. You look up at him, eager, hoping, desperate for more than just his fingers.

Lust darkens his gaze as he notices your hunger, his fingers stilling within your throat before retracting completely, leaving your chin and lap wet with your own saliva. He takes a look at his digits, staring at the sheen you’ve left at them as he parts them, watching as a single string of saliva connects them all.

You stay like that for a moment, staring at each other intently as you wait for one or the other to make a move. It’s he who moves first, taking his other hand away from your neck to caress your cheek tenderly. “Eager, aren’t ya?” He asks softly, smiling down at you as you melt into his hand. So pretty, he thinks, sighing softly at the hungry look in your eyes, so obedient.

“Ya still feel li' bein’ good f’me?” He asks, his other hand moving to his belt. Your breath hitches and you turn your head to move your face into his palm, keeping eye contact with him as you press a wet kiss into his wrist, telling him everything he needs to know.

His grin grows, his hand moving to hold your hair firmly and keep you in place as he undoes the buckle of his belt and the zip of his jeans. You sigh into his hand as your eyes settle on the motion, his hand moving yet again to brush over your lip and tilt your head up so your eyes can meet. He parts your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly before pulling away to press his tip at the seam of them.

“Then stay still f’me, doll. 've got a good use fo’ tha’ pretty li’l mouth o’ yours.”

You close your eyes, and comply.

๋࣭ ⭑ tag/s: @eyesxxyou

#lotte's fics #sorry for the length🙏#not too proud of this one ngl #ig its good to get SOMETHING out there though #spiderman #spider punk #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #atsv hobie #atsv hobie smut #astv hobie smut #astv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie smut #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown fic

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