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reiderwriter · 3 days

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🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫

Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).

A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality.

He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him.

Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock.

All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card.

He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it.

Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports.

Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you.

Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people.

It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit.

You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance.

And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff.

Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still.

Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own.

“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk.

“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered.

“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-”

“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through.

“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.”

She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in.

You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him.

You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7.

How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape.

How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery.

You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.

“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help.

“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.”

“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?”

“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics.

You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling.

“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”

Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details.

“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.”

“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there.

“Reid?”

“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.”

“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back.

“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued.

“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets.

“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?”

He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face.

He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful.

He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust.

A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range.

“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss.

“Doctor Reid?” You asked.

“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.”

You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand.

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“You said to show you-”

“You're not wearing a vest.”

You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now.

He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around.

You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs.

You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets.

Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent.

“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”

His advice was actually good and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip.

“Like this?”

“A little more… here, let me.”

You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance.

“Try now.”

Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you.

You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.

"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!”

“Do it again and we can celebrate.”

Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot.

“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”

He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body.

If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too.

You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun.

Straight into the center of the target.

“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.

He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word.

“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week.

“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.”

He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality.

You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass.

Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy.

He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.

“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder.

“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.”

“I'm not-”

“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form.

Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest.

That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.

“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?”

The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy.

He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire.

“Grab your vest. Let's try again.”

A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate.

Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing.

“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend.

“What do you need?”

“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"

He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.

“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal.

“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”

You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful.

“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit.

“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.”

Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days.

He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome.

Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you.

Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties.

“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him.

Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't.

“You can do better than that, Y/N.”

You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you.

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went.

“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.”

He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again.

“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?”

He quickly turned the gun on you pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside.

“S-Spencer, fuck-”

“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place.

“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.”

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch.

You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon.

“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”

“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.”

You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head.

With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs.

Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes.

“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.”

You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck.

“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?”

You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward.

You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's office.

Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat.

“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently.

“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?”

You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him.

He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass.

“Fuck, more. Please more!”

He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you.

“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.”

He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him.

Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants.

“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you.

You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face.

With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well.

Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations.

He kept snapping pictures.

Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him.

He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect.

In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you.

“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?”

It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it.

Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you.

“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.”

Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing.

His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop.

“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.”

He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever.

“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed.

“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him lying on the floor next to you.

“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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mariasont · 2 days

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Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?"

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look.

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--"

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you.

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over.

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe.

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?"

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest.

He decided this was his new lucky tie.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x receptionist #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #dr reid #reid #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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bigfatbreak · 2 days

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Hello I love your art!!! I was reading through your changeling au and Felix mentions that fae are creatures of mirth. They literally need attention to survive. But what kind of attention? I guess I'm wondering because Adrien has been in the public eye for a while now, but has been personally neglected for even longer. What does that mean for him? Is he starving? Is he in danger of dying? Does he even know it? (I assume not given he doesn't even know he's Fae).

If he is starving / in danger of starving who is the first to realize this?

it depends on the mirth, on the attention, on what it is they seek. Without making things too complicated - I don't like to define everything into neat little boxes after all, there's fun in nuance - Felix is just explaining from his experience, the Fae he was with tended to be "entertained" by certain aspects of their playing, which was the mirth that kept them relevant. Relevancy more than anything is really what keeps their wheels greased.

In Adrien's case though, the reason he's cloying for so many names and to have so many thralls and attendants is because he SHOULD be a more social creature and has been kept woefully alone. He is kinda starving in the way a fae starves - he's relevant, but only in an image his father constructs OF him, which means it isn't REALLY him - and he has no one to play with. No friends, no lovers, and no rivals, makes a very sad fae

#replies #did this make sense ? I have very specific lore in my brain for how this shit works #and it can be sort of confusing to parse #starving doesn't work the same for fae as it does for people #being creatures of mirth #its why they like sweet foods generally. they dont eat it to eat #they eat it to taste something sweet #they take people's names to have people to play with #to feed their desire for entertainment and relevancy #how do i put this another way... anyone in the crowd have adhd? or the tisms? you know hyperfixations #like REAL hyperfixations. not just “I'm interested in this”#I mean “I am legitimately unable to focus on anything BUT this one thing”#“I have made this thing apart of my personality and I need it to survive and I know everything about it and I NEED to talk to someone it”#imagine you exist. but you're the hyperfixation #and you exist... MORE. in a real way. when people focus on you. some aspect of you #want to mimic you or are apart of you or are owned by you. now youre more real.#like that.

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042502 · 1 day

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𔓕 ່ ⃝⃝🧡 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐎 : 𓈒 𝇋♡︎𝇌

ೀ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Random situations of Chris being your boyfriend.

ೀ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. Mentions of sexual relations, insults, established relationship, appearances by Nick and Matt, video format, daily life.

ೀ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. I don't speak English. The truth is that I wrote this with loose ideas, maybe we will have a second part, I don't know. I leave you a link below in case you liked what you read 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

WHEN THEY LEAVE THE SHOPPING HE WOULD CARRY YOUR BAG.

"You look great" Chris looks at Matt and blows him a kiss.

“Thank you sweetie” Chris makes a silly pose with your bag.

"You're so gay," Nick scoffs.

"Stop shaking my bag" You ask your boyfriend.

HE LOVES THAT YOU CARESS HIS HAIR. AND YOU HAVE USED THIS TO YOUR ADVANTAGE MANY TIMES.

"Chris!!" You approach him jumping happily.

"Before you speak: no, I don't have, I don't want to and I can't" he jokes and you make a cute pout.

"I really need it, I've been waiting for this moment all my life" Chris rolls his eyes for a few seconds and you show him the screen of your cell phone.

"That? A concert?" He looks at you and you nod repeatedly, then drop your body onto the couch next to him and snuggle around his arm. while he holds your cell phone by sliding his finger on the screen. "Zayn? Is he giving a concert? I thought he was on his damn farm tending to a potato," he joked.

"He's back and you know how much I want to see him."

"I know, but it's impossible, I have a full agenda. We can see it next year." Chris gives you a kind smile.

"Chris we don't know if he will be back next year! Please!" Chris still refused, you have nothing left but to use your fire tool, Your nails dig into your boyfriend's disheveled hair and you see him close his eyes enjoying the caress.

"We could talk to the boys and go all together, we'll enjoy it" you continue sweetening Chris with your caresses.

"Okay, let's talk to them" upon Chris's approval you stop petting him and run in search of the boys.

HE ALSO ENJOYS RECEIVING AND GIVING YOU MESSAGES ON YOUR FEET.

You may be lying on the couch enjoying a lazy afternoon watching movies on Netflix.

At some point he would leave his feet within reach of your hands and ended up giving him some gentle massages.

HE DOESN'T LIKE SILLY COUPLE NICKNAMES, BUT HE'LL CALL YOU "MA" OR SIMPLY BY YOUR NAME.

"Chris said many, many, many, but exaggeratedly many times" Nick adjusts his glasses "he said many" Chris interrupts him.

"I think it was understood"

"Well, he's said many times that he wouldn't call his future girlfriend stupid nicknames." Chris and Matt understood where Nick was going.

"Yes, yes, yes" Matt sits back in his seat to look at his brothers. "We've heard Chris say many times that he wouldn't use ridiculous nicknames with his girlfriend and he literally now."

"He calls her MA!" Nick shouts and fake laughs.

"It's not ridiculous and it's not like that, it's not stupid" Chris exluss.

"You don't know how funny it is when we wake up and the first thing I hear is saying 'good morning ma' it's so stupid."

"Hey!" Chris shouts.

"You haven't heard anything bad, I heard him talking to her like a baby, Chris sounds something like... Oh, I really need you to give me affection" the three of them burst into a big laugh.

MOSTLY HE IS THE ONE WHO CHOOSES ABOVE ALL, YOU JUST TRUST HIS CHOICE.

"What are you going to order?" Nick asks you as he sticks his head out the window.

"Huh, I don't know... Same as Chris."

"You don't even know what he's going to order." Matt stretches and looks at you in the rearview mirror.

"What are you going to order then Chris?" Nick looks at his brother.

"Pepsi, a double burger, medium fries, you know," he shrugs, before Nick repeats the order and speaks again. "The hamburger should not have onions"

"Since when have you not eaten onion?" Matt asks with a slight frown.

"She doesn't eat onions" he points to the seat behind him, in your direction and you smile.

PHYSICAL CONTACT IS THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE. ESPECIALLY THE HUGS.

Chris has said that he is not a demonstrative man, but you don't feel that is the case. Every time he can he is adding your hands and playing with your fingers or just giving you little caresses.

"I don't think that's true," says Madi.

"I'm telling you, yes, I read it in the news." Matt moved his fingers over the screen of his cell phone looking for the news he was talking about.

"Check the history," you suggest to Matt..

You had your hands on the table while you were talking animatedly with the boys, Chris was next to you playing with the chain that decorated his left wrist.

"Look there it says clearly" Matt brings his cell phone to his friend showing her the news.

You laughed cheerfully as Chris's hand took one of your hands to play with. You smile and give him a small friendly squeeze, he intertwined your hands, then patted, tried to hold one of your fingers, among other strange things he did.

On other occasions where perhaps he wanted to be more discreet, such as when he was at his parents' house or yours, he just slid his hand under the table and left it on your thighs.

"Your aunt has mentioned countless times that she makes pudding even tastier than mine, can you believe it?" Your mother was talking to you while she was preparing tea to drink.

"That's impossible, I had the pleasure of trying the pudding you made and it is exquisite, there can't be a better one." Chris compliments your mother and she turns to look at him and says "I know" making them both laugh.

Chris's hand sought your touch under the table, leaving his hand on your thigh and then pulling you closer to him to give small squeezes from time to time.

Although he had many signs of physical affection, the one that stood out the most were his beautiful hugs. Chris's hugs were magical, they recharge you with abundant good energy. They make you feel renewed.

"Good morning ma" you hear your boyfriend speaking at your side of the bed.

Your eyes slowly open and you can see him smiling. You push your way through the sheets to be greeted by his arms in a warm embrace.

"Hmh Chris..." You murmur. "I told you that if you are going to sleep without your shirt, cover yourself well with the sheets." the top of his chest was freezing, then you'd have a sick Chris from taking in cold air.

"I'm sorry ma"

Hugs in the morning are essential to have a good start to the day, but they weren't the only ones. While you are preparing something to eat, he hugs you from behind, When you're in the bathroom getting ready, he also gives you your dose of hugs. He's actually very good at giving hugs.

HE HAS NO PROBLEM TELLING YOU HOW HE FEELS ABOUT YOU, HE IS VERY COMMUNICATIVE. EVERYTHING THAT GOES THROUGH HIS HEAD HE LETS YOU KNOW.

"Which of the three do you think is the most sentimental?" Chris read the question for his brother Justin.

"Hmm, none of them are exactly sentimental, but at the same time they are all a little bit."

"I consider it to be me" Nick speaks.

"I'm going to answer that maybe Nick..." He thinks. "Also Chris" looks at his brother.

"Chris?" Matt asks confused.

"Yeah, he's always making a sentimental moment out of nowhere, speaking from his heart and stuff like that. Even lately when his girlfriend is around he's telling her how much he appreciates having her in his life... You know, I don't know if it's because now he has a partner and it makes him twice as sentimental."

"It's true," Nick agrees.

"I, I consider myself to be" Chris brings the microphone closer to his mouth. "I'm actually not ashamed to say how I feel about her in front of someone else, I feel like the fact that I am like that makes our relationship more stable. Because we are very communicative with each other" he explains and his brothers congratulate him on their beautiful relationship.

"Tell him something now," Matt challenges and Chris smiles in amusement.

"Listen, right now I miss you a lot. I really want to see you so I can hug you for a long time and tell me how your day was. Remember that I love you very much and you are the girl of my life" He finishes the message and his brothers applaud excitedly.

HE DOESN'T ADMIT IT BUT HE LIKES IT WHEN YOU STYLE HIS HAIR OR WHEN YOU DO SKINCARE TOGETHER.

"IT'S BURNING ME!!" He screams when I put a mask on his face.

"Chris is a cucumber mask" she adjusted the corners of the mask while he complained.

"Why is yours pink?" He sits down in front of you and you laugh.

"Because it's made of a different material, yours is green" you point out.

"I prefer orange." He takes the comb and runs it through your hair. "Why is your hair straight today?" Chris used a confused tone of voice.

"Apply a product to keep it straight" you explain and he continues running the comb through your long hair.

"It looks good, but I like your naturally curly hair" you smile and break the distance between the two of you by joining your lips.

You take the comb out of his hand and now you are the one combing his hair.

"Will you let me make you a crazy hairstyle?" Chris I agree and you start tying his hair with little rubber bands.

The door to the room opens and you both look in its direction, finding you mother watching.

"You guys look ridiculous" the three of them laugh.

CHRIS IS TOO HARD IN BED, IT'S NOT HIS VANILLA, ROMANTIC STYLE. ALTHOUGH SOMETIMES HE AGREES TO BE IT FOR YOU.

“It’s so boring” Chris pulls his head back to look at you.

His body was lying between your legs, while you were sitting. They were both enjoying a good movie, but then a sex scene comes out.

"They're fucking, what do you mean?" You're mocking.

"That's boring sex," says the screen. "It should be called super boring sex"

"Just because your style of sex is holding me by the hair while you're giving me hard from behind, doesn't mean that that type of sex is fun." He stretched his hair, forcing him to look at me again. He bites his lip.

"I just think our style is a little more interesting” he smiles and you lean in to kiss him.

"You have to admit that sometimes soft sex is nice."

"We never did" you click your tongue denying Chris's words. "We did it?"

"Did you forget?" you pretend to be offended.

"I know, on your birthday. But I just wanted to make you feel more... I don't know, I wanted to be something romantic I guess"

"You were, I didn't expect you to be. I like the surprise" you stroke his hair.

CHRIS IS THE KIND OF BOYFRIEND WHO WANTED TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP SOLELY TO WEAR A MATCHING HALLOWEEN COSTUME.

"Today we're going to go see our Halloween costumes" Nick speaks excitedly towards the camera in front of him. "We were talking seriously about this, you know, it's very important."

"I still don't know what I want to use." Matt looks at Nick and Nick looks at him seriously. "You're an Idiot"

They arrived at the place and were walking through the hallways full of different costumes. Matt was holding the camera as it focuses on Nick and Chris looking at some.

"It's packed," Chris comments and grabs a crazy hat to put on his head. "I'm kind of excited, I've always wanted to have a girlfriend to wear a complementary type of costume, I think it's actually the only logical reason why I wanted to have one" He takes off his hat and leaves it where he found it.

"Chris has literally said hundreds of times that he didn't want to have a girlfriend, but if he did want one it would be to wear a silly matching suit." Nick adds, still appearing next to Chris.

"It's true" Chris continues looking at the suits. "So today is the day to wear a fun outfit with y/n."

"I hope it's SpongeBob and Patrick" Matt speaks behind the camera and Chris looks at him excitedly.

"Definitely not, they are best friends," says Nick. "It would be weird to see SpongeBob stick his tongue in Patrick's Throat ."

CHRIS LOVES IT WHEN THEY SHOWER TOGETHER.

"No Chris"

"Please, it will be faster if we do it together" Chris begs you.

The situation was the following, you were taking a shower because this afternoon they were going to have a good time at the mini golf. Chris always complains that you take too long in the bathroom, so he says it's much better if you do it together.

Things that you know very well are not like that, they are in the shower even longer if he comes in with you.

"Chris, we really have to get there early," you explain as the hot water slides over your soapy body.

"I just like doing it with you." Chris sits on the toilet seat.

You sigh for a few seconds and agree to let him take a shower with you.

PACIFIERS AREN'T HIS STYLE, BUT LET'S JUST SAY HE SOMETIMES LEAVES SOME BEHIND.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask your boyfriend, who has been staring at you since you got out of the shower.

You walk past him combing your hair. Now you are in front of him waiting for him to answer you.

"It's nothing, I just have a pretty girl by my side" he smiles. "So, who did you say were going to that high school reunion?" You sigh heavily knowing that you had already had this conversation yesterday.

You had a small reunion with your former high school classmates, absolutely everyone would be there. You had mentioned this to your boyfriend and he was not very comfortable with you attending, especially because your ex would be there and he couldn't go since he had to record with his brothers.

They had a little argument about not going and it ended in a lot of heated sex.

"We already talked about this Chris, don't worry. "I'll just have dinner and come back, I won't stay for the party, I'll most likely be here at home when you get back from recording." You give him a quick kiss on the lips.

"It's okay, you look pretty" you model your outfits for him..

"Thank you" you approach the mirror and then you see it, those bruises decorating your neck. You turn around looking at the culprit. "What is this?"

"I didn't do it right, we should do it again" he jokes.

YOU ALWAYS BUY HIM SNACKS SO HE CAN EAT WHEN IT'S TIME TO FILM IN THE CAR.

"We have no topic of conversation in this video..." Matt starts the video talking.

"Yeah, we didn't do our homework this week," Nick continues.

Chris takes a chocolate bar out of his sweatshirt pocket, Matt and Nick look at him and they both extend their hands in Chris' direction.

"Absolutely not, I'm not going to share" he stretches his chocolate away from his brothers.

"Every food that enters this car becomes everyone's food," Nick tells him.

"Y/n bought this one for me" he breaks it up and gives it to his brothers.

"Since when does she buy you candy?" Nick asks, devouring his share of chocolate.

"Since Matt made the chocolate prank on me" Matt laughs at his brother. "Since then she buys me snacks so I can eat during the videos"

"She's so sweet" Nick says. "Y/n would love you even more if you gave me snacks too" he speaks into the camera to send the message to you, he winks and sticks out his tongue.

"Stop flirting with me girl." Chris punches Nick in the arm.

"Ou, ou, ou, Ouch. HEY! STOP! I'M GAY!" Nick shouts.

ೀ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. I hope you like it, thank you for reading, don't leave without first giving me a like and a nice comment. Don't forget to share with your friends! And remember if you want to be part of the taglist to receive a notification every time I publish a fic, ask me in the comments! That's all for now, goodbye! 🤍

ೀ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. @luverboychris @l34n @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @adirtylittleheart @ilovechrisssturniolo-deactivate @melonjollyranche @sssoniaswiftt @ecliphttlunar @jetaimevous @khxna @aliceloveschris

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writers-potion · 2 days

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Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have.

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward.

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals.

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them.

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for.

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness

Does your character have empathy?

A sociopathic kind of madness is different.

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there.

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc.

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing.

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it.

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself)

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away.

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down.

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide.

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

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thethirdromana · 2 days

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I keep thinking about that post about the woman who went to the Italian restaurant and got really annoyed at being given free garlic bread.

(In summary, if you didn't see it: a group of friends went to an Italian restaurant. The owner greeted them with typical warm Italian hospitality. They got free garlic bread and free drinks. This one woman hated the whole experience, and found it pushy and inappropriate. All of her friends were baffled and so was most of tumblr.)

I think this tracks with a lot of experiences online and especially in interactions with strangers in fandom.

There are posts that go around every so often: is it OK to spam-reblog someone's art? Is it creepy to comment on all of someone's fic? Will people like it if I make art of their OC or their fanfic? Is it OK even to ask?

And the answer always comes back: yes, people love it when you spam-reblog their art, they love comments on their fic, they love it when people make art of something they created.

And the thing is that's true… 99.9% of the time.

The reason people worry about this stuff in the first place is because there are people who complain about these things, who do find it pushy or creepy or whatever. They are a tiny minority but they're out there. In some cases they have good reason, in some cases they're just weird or misanthropic or whatever.

They are the people who don't want free garlic bread. And just as nearly everyone else who goes to that restaurant doesn't want the free garlic bread to stop because of that one woman who had a problem with it, nearly everyone participating in fandom online doesn't want people to stop doing all those lovely things because of the small handful of people who've been grumpy about it.

Sometimes being nice will rub someone up the wrong way, and instinctively that makes us want to retreat back into our shells and stop interacting. Sometimes someone will say "stop reblogging all my art, you weirdo". But that's only a reason to interact differently with that one person, not with everyone. Some people just don't like free garlic bread. But most people do.

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mariclerc · 23 hours

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So, i watched the video of the radio between Charles and his new engineer at Imola. Safe to say i got some ideas, and was wondering if you could write something with Charles and engineer!reader? Basically something where reader is Charles’ engineer and he’s developed feelings for her, during a race ( could be Imola, or Monaco as thats this weekend) she talks to him like Bryan does and he realizes he has a praise kink. Could lead to smut if you’re comfortable with that. Thank you in advance.

Thank you for this request, I did my best to develop it as much as possible, I hope you like it!! <3<3

Strategies and praises | cl16 (+18)

Summary: you like to praise your driver, but you have no idea how much good it does him. Warning: fluff and some light smut.

a/n: CHARLES WON IN MONACO OH MY GOD, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! HE REALLY DID IT, I'M SO SO PROUD OF HIM!!! (not to jinx him I wrote this between Friday and Saturday so you won't have exactly the positions like in the race)

The Monaco Grand Prix is in full swing, everyone is excited and ecstatic as they want to know how the local driver, Charles, will do. You, as his race engineer, are under a bit of pressure, as well as him, but it's nothing you can't control. For you it is a race of mere strategy and that's it, since many overtakings do not usually occur, and that is why you and Charles spend a lot of time studying the different strategies that may happen in the race.

“If we get one last run with the mediums in quali, we can achieve pole position.” He says and you nod.

“That's right, it's just a matter of the track staying the same throughout qualifying and, in case you already have provisional pole and a red flag or something happens, you're already insured there.” you say as you finish reviewing some telemetry data.

Suddenly he lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair, ruffling it a little. You know he is stressed and overwhelmed by this weekend, it's not that he doesn't like it, on the contrary, it's the constant pressure to have a good race at home.

“But... But what if I qualify further back? I don't know, that will change the whole strategy, right?” He asks in a whisper, you nod.

“Ehm... That might change the strategy a little bit, of course, but it's nothing we can't recover with a couple of undercuts or overcuts...” you say to finally close your laptop.

You look at Charles and notice how your words calmed him down a bit, you have been his engineer since he arrived at Ferrari in 2019 and you have been known for giving him some praises every so often in the race. And a couple of times you have been criticized for some questionable decisions in the race, but he was in charge of clearing your name with pride those times, which you are very grateful to him since he always believes in you and you in him.

It's already race day and you find yourself with a lot of nerves, the day before Charles had qualified P3 and, although it was not what we expected, there was a certain tension and hope on the pit wall. The roar of the crowd fills Charles helmet as he navigates the tight corners of Monaco. You, his engineer, his voice of reason in the chaos, cut through the static.

“Charles, that was a phenomenal lap! You took the Rascasse beautifully, just keep pushing, we can still make a good climb!” you say on the radio. “Just try to make it clean, okay? You're doing a very good job.”

A small smile tugs at Charles' lips under the helmet... He wasn't just pushing or fighting for the podium anymore, he was pushing to hear your voice, to impress you, to make you feel proud of him.

You watch the telemetry with a focused intensity, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Perfect line through Beau Rivage, Charles. You're a monster machine! Let's catch them boy! I know you can do it!” you said watching his lap, he had made a couple of overcuts.

The compliment hangs heavy in the air between you and Charles, a blush creeps up his neck even though you can't see it. He pushes even harder, the car straining under his command.

Charles crosses the finish line, a hard-fought P3. He lets out a guttural yell of exhilaration, the adrenaline coursing through him. Maybe it's not a home win as he wished, but it's a podium and it's something at least.

“Great job, team! That was incredible. Y/n, you were brilliant on the strategy, thank you so much!” you heard his voice over the radio communication and you smiled.

“It was nothing Charles, now let's celebrate! You deserve it more than anyone!” you also say through the radio. “You did an absolutely amazing drive, Charles. You were phenomenal out there. We should celebrate after the podium ceremony!” you say and you let out a little giggle.

A shiver runs down Charles' spine... It wasn't just the post-race adrenaline, it was the way you said it, the subtle soft praise laced with something more, and that sweet and soft giggle of yours. All your colleagues on the pit wall hug you and congratulate you for such a spectacular strategy, Fred also congratulates you with a loving hug. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Relief and pride wash over you, how proud you are to work with someone like Charles is priceless, he is someone who always strives to achieve his own.

At the end of the podium and the interviews, the paddock was practically deserted, you found yourself putting some things in your briefcase when you hear Charles calling you to meet you in his driver's room.

The room is a mess of post-race adrenaline, empty water bottles litter the table, fireproof gloves are tossed on a chair, and Charles himself is sprawled on the sofa, he's still in his race suit, sweat clinging to his toned chest through the fireproofs. He looks exhausted but exhilarated and handsome to your eyes. You knock on the door.

“Come in!” You hear him say and you enter the room, a shy and tired smile adorns your face.

“Hey, you wanted to see me champ?” you asked softly.

Charles beckons you in, a shy smile playing on his lips. He pats the space beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, come sit, please. There's a few things we need to go over, but...” He trails off, his gaze lingering on you a beat too long. You raise an eyebrow, amusement tugging at your lips.

“But what?”

“You did amazing today, you know that? We pulled off a miracle out there, keeping the position.” he smiled shyly.

You smiled lovingly at him. “We did, didn't we? Thanks for trusting my calls. You were a rocket ship on that track, Charles.”

His gaze lingers on you a beat too long. You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling a warmth spread through you.

“Always. You're the best engineer I've ever had. Not just because of the numbers, but...” his voice became a little low, he hesitate a bit, then leans in, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you believe in me... Even when I don't believe in myself, even when everyone doubts about my abilities or myself in general.”

Your heart skips a beat, you reach out, your fingers softly grazing his cheek. The touch seems to spark something in him, he leans into your hand, his eyes searching yours.

You blushed a little. “Hey, I'll always believe in you, Charles! You're incredible. You know that, right?”

His eyes hold yours, a new intensity there. He cups your face, his thumb brushing across your lips.

“There's something else I want you to know... Something I've realized lately.” he says with a husky voice.

He trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips, you feel a shiver run down your spine, he leans in slowly, and you meet him halfway. The kiss is electric, fueled by unspoken emotions and the adrenaline of the race. His hands explore your back gently, sending shivers down your spine.

“Your voice...” he kiss you again. “on the radio...” he give you another kiss. “it does things to me...” he said between kisses.

A laugh escapes your lips, breathless. “Like what, Charles?” you ask him teasingly.

He kisses your jaw, his voice a low rumble. “Like... it makes me want to drive faster, makes me want to win, to archive even more podiums... Especially when you...” He hesitates, then whispers in your ear. “Especially when you tell me I'm doing good, when you tell me that I can do it.” he said huskily.

A blush creeps up your neck. You realize what he's saying, a heat pooling in your core.

“So... you like a little praise, huh?” you whisper too.

He kisses your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “More than you know, mon ange, especially if it comes from you.”

The air crackles with unspoken desire. You let out a soft gasp as Charles undoes the buttons of your t-shirt, his touch lingering on the fabric. You reach up and cup his face, pulling him close for another kiss. This time, it's deeper, filled with a new urgency. His hands slide down your back, sending a fire down your spine.

“Then tell me, Charles. What do you want to hear?” you said breathlessly.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes blazing. “Tell me you're proud of me, tell me I drove flawlessly. Tell me you knew I could do it... Please.” he says in a whisper, practically begging you.

You run your hand through his hair, a slow smile spreading across your face. “I am so incredibly proud of you, Charles. You were phenomenal out there, you took that car to its limits and never gave up. You're a phenomenal driver, the best on the grid.”

His eyes lock on yours, the praise filling him with a surge of heat that goes beyond the race. He leans in again, his voice a husky whisper.

“More, keep going amour. Tell me you knew I could keep that podium, even when I doubted myself.”

You trace the outline of his jaw with your thumb, your voice dropping to a low purr. “I always knew you could keep that podium, Charles. You have this incredible talent, this fire inside you. You were born to be a champion!”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands explore your body, finding the small of your back, urging you closer.

“Don't stop please. You make me want to push myself even further, make me want to win every single race left, just to hear you say that again.” says with a ragged voice.

The praise fuels your own desire. You pull back slightly, your gaze flickering over his race suit, you smile.

“Then let's celebrate your podium properly, shall we? Show me just how good you are at taking some orders.” you say with a husky voice, and a triumphant grin splits his face.

The air hums with a different kind of electricity now. Charles's eyes darken, the praise turning him on far more than he expected. He leans in, his voice a low rumble.

“You don't just believe in my driving, do you baby?”

His hand dips under your shirt, brushing softly against your skin. You gasp, a shiver running through you.

“No, Charles. I believe in you... All of you. Your talent, your strength, your incredible heart. You're the most determined, passionate person I know! And seeing you out there, pushing yourself, it does something to me too...”

His touch ignites a fire within you, mirroring the one he feels. You trace a line down his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his damp race suit.

“What does it do, bellissima?” he says with a husky voice.

You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. “It makes me want to celebrate with you in a very different way.” you whispered in his ear.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. A slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of satisfaction and desire.

“Tell me then, how do you want to celebrate?” he asks.

You run your hand down his arm, sending a spark through both of you. “Let me show you how proud I am of the man you are, not just the driver. How much I admire your strength, your focus, everything that makes you so incredible.”

His breath hitches, and he pulls you close again. This kiss is different, slower, filled with a deeper meaning. His touch explores your body, finding the places that make you shiver, places no one had ever discovered before.

“Then show me, bellissima. Show me everything you've been holding back.” he said with a rough voice.

You pull back slightly, your eyes locked on his. “But first, tell me one more thing. Did you ever think your engineer might be a little turned on by seeing you dominate the track?” you say shyly.

His laugh is a low rumble, filled with pure, unadulterated desire.

“Not until now, but believe me, gorgeous, the feeling is most definitely mutual.”

He finally pulls your shirt up all the way, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. As he slowly undresses you, his eyes never leave yours, a mixture of gratitude and raw desire burning bright. The celebration takes a turn neither of you expected, fueled by the adrenaline of the race, the praise that goes beyond the track, and the deep connection that has been simmering beneath the surface all along.

His eyes scanned your body at a slow place, he was drinking you in just by looking. His lips met yours in a gentle touch and your back met the couch as he hovered over you. Looking into his eyes you kissed him again, biting his lip which elicited a groan from him and a smile from you.

“Oh god amore, are you sure you want this?” He asked. “We can’t go back after you say yes.” he added in a low voice that send shivers down your spine.

“Yes, I’m sure Charles.” you replied bringing his lips down to yours. Detaching his lips from yours he kissed down your body, your skin crawls when you feel his warm lips on your body, slowly kissing every curve and dip that adorns your silhouette, leaving a burning path on your skin, you let out a sigh. “God, you're so good to me Cha...” You whisper between a light sigh, your words made him let out a light growl, he felt his body react to your praise.

“Oh mon amour, je te ferai te sentir si bien... I will make myself worthy of your praise...” He says in a low and sensual voice, the mixture of French and English makes your head go crazy. (Oh my love, I'll make you feel so good...)

His lips continue their journey down your chest, taking the time to kiss your breasts gently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world, then he went down to your abdomen where he left loose kisses in the area, making you release one or another soft sigh. He continued down until he reached your core, he smiled at the sight of you completely naked, he softly kissed the inside of your thighs and your heart started beating super fast.

He started to leave sloppy kisses until he reached your folds, he began to leave sloppy kisses and licks on your wet folds, you raised your hips a little to give him easy access to that area, and he began to devour you slowly, he was taking his time to taste you. Your soft moans didn't take long, he slowly sucked on your clit, making you let out a loud moan that probably rang throughout the deserted paddock, but that's the least of it now.

“Keep doing that Charlie...” you say with heavy breathing and that gave him the impetus to continue savoring you with such passion, you hold on to his soft, silky hair. “God, you're such a... You're such a good boy.” you moan slightly.

Your words lit the fire in him a little bit more and he continued tasting you completely in his mouth, you were like a blessing in his life, like something he had wanted to try for a long time. You felt your walls tighten and a strong wave of pleasure washed over you, you felt like you were going to faint right there.

“Cha... Charlie... I'm... I'm close.” you whispered as you whimpered in pleasure, he stopped his ministrations on your core and looked up at you, god he looked so damn hot, his cheeks flushed, his face sweaty from the strenuous work he was doing down there.

He smiled and took off his boxers, revealing his erect cock, he brought his lips to yours and kissed you softly and sweetly, it was as if he didn't want to let this moment between you go. “If... If you don't feel comfortable or something, just tell me and I'll stop instantly, okay darling?” He said in a hushed whisper looking deeply at your eyes.

You looked and him and smiled shyly. “Charlie, I... I want this the same way you want it, okay? I want you to continue.” you whispered and he nodded. “Just do it, okay honey?”

He aligned himself with your entrance and gently entered you, giving you time to adapt to his big size, your breathing became erratic, he began to move slowly and a little loosely at the same time. He wanted to satisfy you, to please you, make you feel like you are the one who have the power in this precise moment... His hands ran over your body, just as they did at the beginning, until they reached your hips and he placed them there, his thumbs made circles in that area, he began to thrust into you with a little more rhythm. He began to breathe heavily, his hot breath coming into contact with your neck and that gave you chills down your spine, his movements were meticulously perfect, he took the moment to appreciate you and enjoy this.

You felt your walls tightening around him, making the two of you let out moans at the same time, to you, he looked like a Greek god at that moment, sweat taking over his toned torso, his darkened and dilated pupils watching you as if you were a goddess or some kind of miraculous apparition in his life.

“Mhm, bébé, I'm... I'm gonna cum.” he whispered against your neck, his agitated and husky voice a delight to your ears. “God, you feel so good around me chérie.” He murmured as he kissed the skin of your neck, making you sigh again and again.

You moaned as you felt the pleasure wash over you. “Such a good boy my precious Charlie.” you said with a husky voice. “I'm close too, handsome.” you whimpered and you closed your eyes.

The climax reached you two making you tremble with pleasure, your legs trembled and you felt how your breathing stopped being erratic. He rested his forehead against yours and kissed every little part of your face, while you just smiled, the love you feel for this man is incredible, something that goes beyond a simple discussion of strategies or friendly companionship.

When you finally felt that everything in you was completely normal, you spoke. “That... That was, amazing charlie.” you whispered softly, giving him a kiss on his cheek, he smiled. “You made me feel good... I haven't felt like this in a long time.” there was no lie in your statement, it had been a long time since the last time someone had made you feel as good as Charles had.

He smiled and blushed. “It was nothing sunshine, everything for you and only you.” he kissed your cheek. “I think you deserve good things more than anyone else.” he whispered too.

After a few seconds, silence was present in the room, but it was a fairly comfortable one, your hands were intertwined with his and your thumb caressed the back of his hand, you smiled shyly at the sight, it was something that looked so cute and innocent.

He smiled again and looked at you with great affection in his eyes. “I love you, darling... Thank you for this!” He whispered sweetly and kissed your temple.

You smiled tenderly. “I love you too charlie.” you whispered too. “Don't you think we should take even a quick shower?” You say and let out a shy giggle.

He smiles and raises his eyebrows, blushing. “Oh... Of course love!”

You just smile at him again and you kiss his cheek. “And then you take me to my hotel?”

He denied and picked you up in his arms to walk to the small bathroom in his driver room, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh, no my love... We will go to my house!” He said.

You raised your eyebrows and chuckled. “But... And my things? Everything is in the hotel...” You started to say but he interrupted you, leaving several small kisses on your lips.

“Don't worry about it honey, we'll look for that before we go to my house.” he smiled. “Just worry about being pretty and smart, my honey.” you giggled at his words.

“You forgot to mention bossy.” he laughed and blushed.

“Oh sure, a little bossy, but that's how I like you.” he whispered on your lips and kissed you again.

You just smiled while you went into the shower, you felt very happy because you never thought that Charles had something for you and that at the end of the day it was something that you also wanted at some point. You admired him as a driver, that was for sure, but as a person it was a totally inexplicable thing. Today showed you that, apart from being good at taking orders, he was excellent pleasing you and showing his true emotions, you can't wait to see where this new journey might take you both.

#formula one x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc #mariclerc fics #charles x you #charles leclerc soft smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc soft

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moonstruckme · 11 hours

Note

Hello!! Starting this off with the mushy gushy stuff like how much I adore your writing and talent and how I hope you know how appreciated you are, all that jazz 👐 Anywhosies, onto the nitty gritty, the other day in my psych lecture I learned more in depth about operant conditioning, which is a theory by B.F Skinner about how a behavior is either reinforced or encouraged through a series of punishments and/or reinforcements, and i thought of our resident brainiac, Spencer Reid! He seems the type to be interested in theories like that and there application in day-to-day life, and so what else is he supposed to do other than condition fem!reader! (Consensually and safely of course) obviously he wouldn’t have malicious intent, but say reader wasn’t super confident in the bedroom, he would steadily over time ‘condition’ her into being more open about her wants and needs through rewards when she’s vocal! If you are in any way uncomfortable writing this please feel free to disregard! <33333

This was fun!! Thank you for requesting babe :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, edging

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 912 words

You gasp, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Spencer looks up at you interestedly.

“That’s progress,” he says, but frowns when he sees your lip. He lets go of your leg to encourage it free. “Don’t do that, please.”

“Sorry,” you manage, breathless. You feel shaky.

Spencer offers you a smile, brown eyes so kind it hurts. “That’s okay. We’re learning, right? I don’t expect you to pick it up all at once.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that and in the end you don’t have to, Spencer’s fingers sliding over your folds and stealing your breath again.

“I want to kiss you,” he says, his own breathing affected by your reaction. He’s bolder in bed than you expected him to be, more direct, but really you should have seen it coming. Spence is relentless when he’s working a case. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Please.”

He doesn’t go where you expect him to, his mouth finding the tender bit of skin below your ear.

“Is this nice?” he asks, kissing slowly downward. You trail your hands up his back and rock into his fingers, only just starting to get into it when he moves down to your breast. “How about this?”

You suppress a horrifically needy sound, and for a minute it seems like Spencer takes the hint. He mouths up the side of your breast, teeth scraping lightly as he gets closer to the pert bud of your nipple.

“Yeah?”

He strokes a lithe hand up your side, thumb soothing over the opposite side of your tit. His fingers part your folds, moving towards your clit, and you’re burning up, incinerating from the inside out. You wind your fingers in Spencer’s hair just before the hand at your breast leaves. It takes both of your hands by the wrists, guiding them above your head.

Spencer smooths his thumb over your pulse, not pinning you (he’d never deny you anything you want, not really), not so much a restraint as a reminder. You have an agreement.

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “Yeah, there is good.”

“Thank you,” he says, and if you couldn’t tell he means it by his tone, Spencer gives you extra encouragement by pushing two gentle fingers into your hole. Your lips part in a soundless gasp as he covers them with his.

“You know, when you like something, your body responds.” He brings his other hand back to your breast, cupping experimentally. His index finger grazes your nipple so lightly you could have mistaken it for a breeze. “But it would make things even easier if you told me yourself. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I can.” Your brain goes all staticy as Spencer’s thumb finds your clit, searching for purchase in the wetness he’s been tormenting out of you for god knows how long now. “I can, please, I can.”

“You don’t need to say please, it’s okay. You can just tell me what you want.”

The problem is, you have no notes, truly. Spencer’s fingers are working in and out of you at the perfect pace, deliciously long and brain-fuzzingly dextrous. His thumb skates crude figure-eights over the bead of your clit until you’re trembling, your hands balled up tight in the bedsheets.

Middle and marriage sponge over something sweet inside you, and you clench around him, swallowing a moan.

Spencer makes a quiet, satisfied sound. “Here?”

His fingers press into the spot again, and you gasp, arching off the bed. They go still.

“Yesyesyes,” you say, words all jumbling together in your desperation. “There. There.”

“Here,” he checks, just to be sure, as his fingers move over the spot again.

“Yes.” Tears sting your eyes. “Yes, there. Spence—”

Spencer waits a few beats. When you don’t seem likely to continue, he prompts gently, “Are you going to cum? You should say so, if you are.”

He’s doubtless seen the quivering that’s taken your thighs, but you nod anyway, panting out another fraught, “Yes.”

“Okay.” He kisses the corner of your lips sweetly as he picks up his pace. “Thank you for telling me.”

You moan without quieting yourself when his grip tightens on your breast. Spencer rewards you for it, kissing dedicatedly at your bottom lip while he kneads the fat, sending pleasure like waves of deep bass buzzing through you. His other thumb increases its pressure on your clit, the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you hardly audible over both of your breathing as he finds that spot again, and again, until you think you probably scream.

Spencer assures you later that you didn’t. That, actually, the sound you made seemed half choked back, and that’s another thing he’d like to work on next time. But for now, he’s happy enough to treat you to a myriad of kisses, soft, sweet presses of his mouth without want for anything more. He encourages you up to use the bathroom, and when you come back, lets you lay on top of him on a clean part of the bed, your cheek pressed to his chest.

“Okay,” you sigh, eyes closing as Spencer’s hand coasts down the bare skin of your back. “You wanna know what I want, for next time?”

“Of course I do,” he says genuinely.

“I want you to use your handcuffs.”

Spencer’s hand stills. You lift your head, and he looks curious. “I think we have time for that tonight, don’t you?”

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barcaatthemoon · 18 hours

Note

Could you do “I’m only going to say this once. You’re the only one I think about, day in, day out. And it’s so fucking scary, feeling like this.” with lia wälti pls

running || lia walti x reader ||

"(y/n)!" lia called out as she chased after you. nobody had understood why you had pitched a fit whenever jonas told you about playing against city. to be fair, you hadn't told the team about your ex that played on the team. "where are you going?"

"home," you answered. lia watched as you shoved your things from your locker into your bag. "i can't be here anymore."

"stop-," lia placed her hands on yours to stop you, "-talk to me. i want to help you if you'll let me. what happened out there?"

"she's so frustrating. all i wanted was a little more, but she wanted it to be casual. now she's out there kissing her new girlfriend out and fucking proud." tears brimmed around your eyes. lia sighed as she pulled you in for a hug. it hurt to hear you caught up on your ex, but she hated to see you upset even more. "and i'm not even into her anymore, but it just hurts."

"i understand," lia told you. her voice was soft, just as soft as her hands as they cradled your face. "sometimes, we see things that bring up old feelings. why don't you get cleaned up and we can go to the bus."

at this, you froze a little, "j-just the two of us?"

"i don't see anyone else around, and i really want to make sure you're not all alone. there's not anything wrong with that, is there?" lia asked you. she was terrified of hearing you tell her that you hated her or something. lia tried so hard with you, and sometimes, you tried to avoid her like the plague.

"no, i guess not," you mumbled.

"you guess not?" lia looked heartbroken, and in a rushed attempt to fix things, you definitely caught a case of word vomit.

"i'm only gonna say this once because that's all i can manage. you're the only one i think about, day in and day out. and it's so fucking scary, feeling like this. one day you're just going to come to your senses, and i'll have to go sprinting back to america again," you said.

"i won't push you away, and i'd never let you run that far from me. i love arsenal, it's my home, but i'd follow you to america," lia told you. she didn't miss the way that your eyes lit up, but there wasn't much more to focus on for either of you when she leaned over to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader

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alastor-x-reader-stories · 1 day

Text

To Rate a Hug part 2 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, humor, antics, shenanigans, Alastor is a petty bitch, Lucifer is a dork, Reader is also a dork

part 1

Alastor’s ear twitched at the sound of someone shouting your name. He glanced over, seeing Lucifer skip up to you like a lovestruck fool.

“Hey, Luci!” You said with a grin, scooping up the fallen angel in a hug. Lucifer’s eyes briefly took on a heart shape as he hugged you back, a light blush on his cheeks.

Alastor turned his attention back to his reading. A low growl permeated from his chest without his permission which agitated him even more. Wasn’t the thing you said at that silly little activity about wanting his attention? Why now has that shifted to Lucifer?

Was it because he gave you what you wanted?

Alastor gritted his teeth, grin straining. This is a ridiculous waste of thought. If this pettiness is simply because he wouldn’t indulge in your strange desires than it wasn’t worth his time-

“Alastor, you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his musings. He quickly composed himself and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course, my dear!” He said “Whatever makes you think otherwise?”

“Um. Probably because you’re hunched over in the corner growling.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alastor’s eye twitched. Why was this idiot still here?

“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” He said with mock interest “I imagine the King of Hell has quite a full schedule.”

Lucifer shrugged “Not really. I’m kind of just here to look pretty.”

You snickered at that, covering your mouth with one hand. Lucifer stood up taller, puffing his chest out.

“Yes, well. I do.” He said, slipping away into the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears went down, watching Alastor slip away. Did the conversation from the other day bother him that much? If that’s the case you’d need to apologize. And, well, no time like the present.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” You said, shooting Lucifer a smile. The King jumped a bit at your voice, startled out of the glaring contest he was having with where Alastor just was. He frowned at you.

“Um. Maybe you shouldn’t?”

You picked him up and held him out at arm’s length “Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but I think this is partially my fault, so I need to talk to him.”

“How is it your fault he’s an asshole?” Lucifer said, flailing his arms about.

“Well…Maybe my comment in the Truth or Dare thing made him uncomfortable…”

“That’s his problem, then.” He snorted, crossing his arms.

You sighed, gently placing Lucifer back on the ground. You put his hands on both of his shoulder and leaned down to be eye-level. “Again, I appreciate where you’re coming from. But I feel like I should talk to him about this so I’m going to.”

He bit his lip, brows furrowing. “Uh….Okay.” He ran a hand down his face “Just. Just be careful, all right?”

You grinned “Nah, I’mma run with scissors.”

“That’s like, the opposite of careful.” Lucifer pouted. He took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. “See you later.”

You said your farewell and scuttled off. Alastor would likely be in either his room or his radio tower, you figured. Which were both typically off-limits but you’d be sure to get his permission before barging in. You stopped by his tower first and knocked on the door a couple of times. When that got no response at all you scurried over to his room and knocked a couple times.

“Who’s there?”

Oh boy you could not resist. “Owl says!”

“…Owl says who?”

“That they do!” You said, cackling at your own stupid joke. There was another staticy cackle that quickly joined your own. The door opened and Alastor grinned down at you.

“Very silly joke, my dear. What can I help you with?”

You snorted, wiping a hand under your eyes to brush away the tears. “Well, you’re in a better mood.”

“Difficult not to be when someone surprises you with a horrible knock-knock joke.” He said with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

“Good point.” You said “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Fascinatingly enough, you already are.” He said, tilting his head.

“Not what I meant-“

“I know, I know. Come on in.” He said, putting a hand between your shoulders and pushing you inside. He kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe and stood there probably doing something but you weren’t paying attention, staring instead at Alastor’s room.

Half of it was a fancy-looking hunting lodge, while the other half a swamp. Fireflies blinked in and out over the waters and you could hear crickets and frog chattering. It smelled like damp moss and sawdust with just hints of coffee.

“Nice room.” You said dumbly. Alastor chuckled, pushing you over to the soft-looking lounge chairs and sitting you down. He sat across from you, crossing his legs in front of him and folding his hand on his lap.

“Now, what did you need to talk about?”

“Oh! Yeah.” You said and turned your attention away from the giant gator skeleton mounted on the wall. “I wanted to apologize.”

He tilted his head “…For what?”

“Um. I think I made you uncomfortable.” You rubbed the back of your neck “With the ‘who I’d want to hug’ comment? I really should’ve kept that to myself. I mean, I know you like your personal space and don’t really want people thinking of invading it-.” You stopped your rambling and took a steadying breath. “So. Yes. I wanted to apologize.”

Empty static hung in the air. You started rocking in your seat, hunching over yourself. Alastor just stared at you, glowing red eyes a sharp contract to the gentle greens and browns behind him.

“I suppose I didn’t expect you to give up quite that easily.” He said, grin unmoving. He tilted his head to the opposite side, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly “If that’s something you wanted so badly, after all…”

You blinked. “Um.” Then realization hit you with a brick “…Did you want me to try hugging you?”

The audible record scratch gave you an answer. Alastor straightened up, clasped hands tightening into a white-knuckled grip.

What he wanted was your attention back on him, and not that fool of a king. What he wanted was you to pursue him and not Lucifer.

“Perhaps.” Alastor said.

You sighed. “Then you should’ve said so, Alastor. I’m not a mind reader. What I got from our talk after that was you thought I wanted something from you and that made you uncomfortable.”

Alastor’s ear twitched. “…So you’re diverting your attention to Lucifer because….?”

You shrugged “Dude’s touch-starved. You give him a hug and he turns into the happiest person in Hell.”

You jumped when Alastor had appeared right in front you. His grin was wide. “So it’s pity that has your attention on him?”

“Uh. No.” You muttered, pushing him away “Really it’s just… Well he gives pretty good hugs. Once I realized I can pick him up to the hug was pretty much perfect.”

“Oh I’m sure I can be much better.” Alastor said with a huff, waving you off. “You wouldn’t have to break your spine or pick someone up for a embrace of much higher quality.”

You rose your eyebrow, ears flicking. “Okay. Before I continue. Our conversation has lead be to believe you want me to try and hug you. Is this correct?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Not really, saying giving mixed signals and being cryptic are your favorite past times.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Alastor’s grin stiffened. His ears pinned back as he suddenly found the swamp more interesting. He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper appeared over your face. You jumped, startled, then took the paper and read it.

Yes pursue the hug thing and tell NO ONE.

You snorted, biting your lip not to laugh. But then you laughed anyway.

“Oooooh buddy you have no idea what kind of game you’re playing now.” You said with a sinister grin. “I’mma hug you.”

“I’m sure your attempts will be amusing.” He said casually, checking his claws.

“I warn you, I have many sinister plans at my disposal.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Starting my first plan. A-hem. Can I hug you?”

“Mmm….Nope!”

Well that didn’t work.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #humor #communication for the win

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minswriting · 24 hours

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spencer reid + car sex after he got out of prison yes please!!

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | car sex, p in v, degradation, unprotected sex

“pull over,” spencer said with irritation in his voice as you drove.

it had been a few weeks since spencer had gotten out of prison. the bau had just finished another case and it was a bit of a difficult one. you were driving back to quantico with only spencer, a decision made by you to get spencer alone for awhile.

your relationship with spencer was complicated to say the least. you guys had a sort of colleagues-with-feelings-but-don’t-want-to-admit-it-so-you-opt-for-sex-instead sort of situation going on. so you had taken the opportunity for finally have time alone as you guys hadn’t had time to really be alone since before he went to prison.

“is everything okay?” you asked as you pulled the car over on the empty highway and put it into park. you turned your head to look at spencer, who just leaned in to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. you let out a small noise of surprise before kissing spencer back, placing a hand on his cheek.

“need to feel you,” spencer murmured, his hot breath on your lips. you nodded your head, unbuckling your seatbelt as spencer did the same.

it didn’t take long before your pants were pulled off and your panties were pulled to the side. spencer’s pants were unzipped enough to let his cock out as you sunk down onto his cock. the both of you let out moans as you relished in being full again. it has been far too long since you had been with spencer and your body craved for his cock.

“i missed this,” spencer groaned, keeping you still for a moment as he took in inside of you. you instinctively clenched your walls around his cock, causing him to hiss in pleasure.

“i missed you so much,” you murmured shakily as you leaned forward to rest your head on spencer’s shoulder. his arms wrapped around your waist.

“i missed you too, baby,” spencer replied softly as he held you. and after a few moments of silence, he began to thrust up into you, causing you to moan in his ear. “i thought about this every single day since i got arrested,” he grunted into your ear as he moved his hips. “dreamt about your dripping pussy and how you’re always so wet for me like a bitch in heat.”

you moaned at spencer’s words and the feeling of his cock inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut. spencer hadn’t been one to degrade you often during sex. but when he did, it never failed to turn you on. especially because the words just sounded oh-so-good leaving spencer’s lips. “i love your cock,” you said, bouncing your hips up and down to meet spencer’s thrusts. “always makes me feel so good.”

“yeah?” he asked. “did you touch yourself while thinking about me while i was locked up?”

you nodded your head, moaning loudly as spencer gave a particularly harsh thrust. “yes!” you whined. “oh fuck. fucked myself so much wishing it was you, spence.”

“naughty naughty girl,” spencer replied, burying his head in between your neck and shoulder. “who knew you were such a fucking slut?”

the sex was desperate and a bit awkward due to being in such a confined space. but it felt amazing nevertheless. having not had sex in the last few weeks, months even, it was not hard for either of you to guess that the other was extremely pent up. but you knew especially that spencer was.

“such a slut for you, spence,” you moaned into his ear, grinding your hips against his. “only you.” your walls clenched around his cock purposefully to make your point.

spencer let out a low groan. he brought a hand to your hair, gently moving your head so that he could kiss your lips properly. the kiss was hot, desperate, and definitely hard to maintain with you bouncing on his cock and his thrusts up into you.

it didn’t take long for you guys to cum at all. spencer had brought his hand down to your pussy, rubbing your clit to help you reach your peak as he began cumming inside of you with moans that went into your mouth. you began to cum as well, thighs shaking and back arching as you came on spencer’s cock.

and when you both were finished, you stared at one another for a few moments. an unspoken exchange of “i love you’s” and “thank you’s” that you don’t expect to hear out loud any time soon. because in the end you’re still colleagues. and adding feelings into the mists would just complicate things.

after a bunch of maneuvering and awkward elbows in random places, you had gotten your pants back on and back into the drivers seat while spencer tucked himself away and zipped himself up. the both of you went back to as you were before, pretending as though nothing happened.

#🌸 — min’s asks #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminals minds x reader

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lolotr · 2 days

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the devlin episode has so much fucking nuance, especially in the relationship between crystal and edwin

someone else has pointed out that edwin correcting himself from "I could lose Charles" to "we could lose Charles" is huge, yes. he realizes that while Charles is hugely important to him, charles is hugely important to Crystal too

and he's also confronted with the fact that crystal is important to Charles as well, since Charles told her something he'd never told Edwin. something about her + the devlin case + the break in their comfortable duo allowed him to open up. Edwin is forced to see her coming as a good thing.

over eps 2 and 3, he's also realized that she's smart and an asset to the agency outside of just being a medium. she has good instincts and skills, skills he and Charles don't have.

so while he still hasn't taken to her personally, he's grown to appreciate her more. nothing like working together to save your friend to really seal your own bond.

then, Edwin does something incredible: he admits he doesn't know something.

"I don't know how any of this works."

not a huge revelation, right? of course he doesn't know how to work a VCR. but. BUT. Charles JUST pointed out that Edwin gets snippy when he doesn't know something. we've seen him act out like that before (see, for example, how he deals with the whole bracelet situation, even though it's kind of his fault). so instead of being sassy and bitchy about it, he admits it simply. to Crystal, of all people. that's a level of vulnerability he hasn't allowed himself with her.

this episode is a turning point in their friendship and you can't change my mind

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #charles rowland #i have a lot of feelings abt the friendships in this show okay #haterboy and hatergirl have a specific hold on me

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deadsetobsessions · 3 days

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Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

——

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

#Danny Phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc #Jason Todd #alley drunk! danny au #Danny making one (1) good decision #danny: hmm perhaps Jazz had a point #also Danny: I don’t need therapy but Jason might #get therapy if you can y’all #tw: alcholism #tw: implied abuse #but like in Jason’s past #Jazz Fenton #Jazz Fenton ironically haunting Danny from her grave

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sabertoothwalrus · 2 days

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OK PREFACING WITH IM SORRY IF I ALREADY SENT THIS EXACT ASK BUT MY WIFI KILLED ITSSLF AS I SENT IT SO IDK IF IT ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH. but in case it didn’t . i know youve gotten this countless times in the past because i blog stalked just in case youve mentioned something similar before but i need to know if you have any specific inspirations when you draw exaggerated expressions specifically like these two images of marcille. ive actually cried laughing over this comic and being able to communicate this type of visceral emotion is such an insane skill and ive followed your art for probably close to a decade through various fandoms so watching you develop this style has been fucking awesome and epic. like i cannot articulate how funny these are to me i just need you to understand i look at this comic to inspire me to draw now. the closest comparison i can draw to the feelings they evoke are like those mspaint reaction images and also mspaint tails i included for reference even though you probably know exactly what im talking about anyways but its actually so much harder to do that intentionally when you study art. also i lied you literally don’t even need to answer this i just had to let you know how obsessed i am over your silly comics and now ive written out a whole ass discussion post about it. im sorry if this is weird at all i think my daily prescribed amphetamines r wearing off and i know this is such a dumb specific thing to fixate on and im so sorry if its not something you want to hear about your art. ive just always seen that as an artist this type of expressive stupid silly style is something that comes after a significant amount of time and practice and study and style development despite being “simple” in theory. its just so cool to have worked with your own style so much that youre able to go “off model” from it and still maintain consistency with the rest of the piece. i said it already and im sorry this is actually rendundant now but the ability to communicate such raw emotion somehow decreases from at its height when someone is a beginner artist learning how to proportion and keep a steady line and what looks “normal” but somehow it all comes full circle because taking all that experience and using it to almost return to where you started but in a fully informed and intentional way so you can make choices to draw characters like this when the situation calls for it is just dhcidogakgoshfhw. i think i need to cut myself off or im going to talk in circles im sorry tumblr user sabertoothwalrus i just am fascinated by your style and progress and the years you’ve dedicated to art can be seen in so many places but this is just one that stands out to me specifically.

MMMMM what a fun question!!!

I'm not gonna lie, I think it's just Letting A Drawing Be Bad. I definitely think the people that struggle with this the most are people who have genuinely very pretty art styles, to the point of being kind of perfectionist about it. and to Draw Funny often means Drawing Fast and Weird. Pretty is kind of the antithesis of funny (unless being pretty is the punchline). do drawings that make yourself laugh. tracing/lining funny sketches almost always makes them less funny.

one of my favorite types of humor is when it skews more deadpan, actually. This is one of the reasons I love Adventure Time. minimal expressions and flat line delivery + absurd context is a really good combo. the key to comedy has more to do with contrast! if your drawings are allllll crazy ren & stimpy all the time, they're not funny anymore cause it's just "normal". if it's all subdued UNTIL it's extreme, and vice versa, then it's funny. The reason this comic is so funny is because of the complete lack of any expression. I feel like the one you sent of Marcille shouting "WHAT" is funnier when you know how much she tries to be dainty and feminine and delicate, how much she values her appearance, and how averse she is to "gross" or "weird" things.

something I find really annoying (and this is with comics/animation in general, not the expressions themselves) is when the joke goes on for too long. Like you'll have the joke, then the punchline, and THEN the characters reacting to the punchline??? Like the author didn't trust that their audience would find the joke funny, so they basically drew in a laugh track. But, this is distinct from a character's reaction being the punchline (like how the examples you gave from my Marcille comic are). MY POINT IS sometimes expressions aren't as funny on their own as you think, and context can affect how you feel about it!

as far as inspirations go!

my own face! even if I don't have a mirror, I like making the expressions myself so I can "feel" where the points of tension on my face are, and it gives me a sense of what to exaggerate.

my brother's art, believe it or not! we've been trying to make each other laugh with our drawings since we were kids, and he's really good at it.

ATLA has some great expressions

OK KO has been a reallyyyy good source for me lately. That show is so tailored to my sense of humor and the expressions and line deliveries feel exactly like the kinds of things I'd come up with. The tone, timing, and art style are all really close to the tv show pitch I'm working on, so when I feel like I've "strayed" too much from it (like after drawing a bunch of dungeon meshi, and my art feels tighter and... idk "manga-ier"?) I like to go and watch a couple episodes of OK KO to loosen back up

A lot of things like OG Spongebob, Calvin & Hobbes, the Simpsons, Chowder, etc etc

memes in general. if it makes you laugh, keep it in mind

and lastly, I wouldn't say I ever try to mimic funny expressions I see. Like if I watch a show for inspo, I'm not pausing it to copy specific drawings, I'm just trying to notice patterns and pay attention to what about it I find funny.

talking about being funny is really bizarre and I dunno if it makes it lose some of the magic. Ultimately it's something you can't think about too much, and just gotta go with your gut.

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