#just clearing clips from my files
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vonxodd · 4 months ago
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IMMACULATE (2024)
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bluebeads-art · 2 months ago
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As the flash hits your eye, you feel something crashing into you from all directions. Below you is obvious, Bonbon situated themself to bump into you while the picture was taken. You look to your right, and Mirabelle’s cheek is pressed up to yours. On your left, Isabeau’s sheepishly hugged you to his side. There’s a hand in your hair, too, and it feels like Madame Odile. [...] “We need a souvenir of this trip,” Mirabelle adds. She rushes to the ground to pick up the picture and snort-laughs as she looks at it. “Oh no, Siffrin looks like we’re holding him hostage!” — Curtain Call, Chapter 9, by @openphrase123 (Link in the replies)
2024 October 22nd
Fanfic fanart fanfic fanart!! When I read the "hostage" line, it invoked such a clear image in my head of Siffrin tensed up like a startled prey animal that it got added to my list of things to maybe draw immediately.
Dooon't think about the words 'left' and 'right' in that quote too hard. I know how to read I prommy. :) (I did Not process those words and lost the coin flip in the composition phase...)
Close-up and ramblings about the cans of worms I unleashed upon myself under the cut
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Time taken on this was [head in hands] 48 hours and 37 minutes.... That bloated number has two culprits:
1) I got a new tablet! My old one was 10 years old. Its plastic was melting and the electronics had ghosts in 'em, so it needed the sweet release of retirement. However, I had just gotten to the line art phase when the switch happened. Clumsily getting used to the new one during the most precise phase of the process did devastating things to my perfectionism.
2) I made a GRAVE mistake with how I chose to color this. I wanted to keep the grayscale layers for accuracy instead of just slapping a B&W filter over the colored version, so all the colors come from gradient maps, color balance layers, overlay layers, and raster layers clipped to other layers. Listen. I'm used to working with lots of layers. I like keeping things separate so I can edit them more easily. But this is the worst layer system I have ever created. Going from color to B&W requires toggling exactly 20 layers & folders on or off. There are 87 visible layers total. This file lags when you edit it. I've never wanted CSP v1.13 to have layer comps more in my life.
Not helping matters was Isabeau. I said he was the easiest to draw in my last post, but he took that as a challenge, apparently. It's a simple fist-on-hip pose, why was that so hard!?! His face gave me grief too.
Odile's lil' wave got added at the end of the line art phase. I've never added to a sketch that late in the game before, but I felt bad about how little screen area she got, haha. Girl, I tried, but this composition was not kind to you.
Giving Isa, Odile, and Siffrin skin colors felt cursed. Well... "color" is maybe a stretch for Sif. The pallor from being affection-jumpscared isn't helping. In the dev's nose reveal post, they said that Siffrin isn't white but is white-passing, so BOOM albinism headcanon. Like c'mon, they wear a big hat and have most of their skin covered because the sun is a deadly laser when you have little to no melanin and idk if sunblock exists in-universe. Heck, maybe most Islanders have it, their whole religion is about the night sky so maybe they're nocturnal. This makes perfect sense. :)
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alsofoundinpeas · 1 month ago
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No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)
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Summary: After JJ's insensitive remarks toward Spencer become too much to ignore, Y/N steps in to comfort him, igniting a friendship that rapidly grows into something more. Though Y/N falls for him first, Spencer soon finds himself falling even harder, realizing no one has ever cared for him the way she does—and he's ready to return it in full.
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Oral/Facesitting (f!receiving), dirty talk, praise kink (if you squint), masturbating (m!only), fingering (f!receiving), unprotected sex/PinV sex (wrap it before you tap it lovelies pls), c** swallowing (I don't know how else to put that HAHAHA), slight overstim (for both parties), slightly ooc!JJ (for the plot), one brief argument scene between the reader and JJ. Fluff and smut. Coworkers to friends to lovers.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader/afab!reader
A/N: I love a little "she fell first, he fell harder" trope, so I'm hoping you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :) I am once again pleading my case that I am NOT a JJ hater!! I just saw a clip of this scene from season 3 and was inspired because I too have been in Spencer's shoes and honestly it hurts, so I wanted to change up the outcome a little bit. The title comes from Taylor Swift's "So High School" but the fic isn't necessarily based around the song if that makes sense. As always, please tell me what you think! If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)
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Y/N had never been particularly fond of JJ. They worked well together, of course—professionalism came first—but there was something about JJ that rubbed her the wrong way. It felt so high school to say, but Y/N had always seen her as a bit of a "mean girl."
Y/N had joined the BAU a year after Spencer, and she’d witnessed firsthand the awkwardness when Spencer, shy and eager, had asked JJ to go to a football game with him as a date after Gideon had given him tickets. A sweet, innocent gesture, only for JJ to show up with Penelope in tow, turning the evening into a humiliating disaster for Spencer. That was just one of the many moments Y/N had found herself bristling at JJ's treatment of him. Despite JJ’s consistent indifference and occasional cruelty, Spencer’s feelings for her had never wavered. 
Until today.
Spencer sat across from JJ on the jet, eager to share his excitement about the book he was reading and its similarities with Pinocchio, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as he rambled on. He barely noticed the lack of interest in JJ's eyes, her eyebrows raised in a near-sarcastic expression as she muttered a disinterested "Wow" in the middle of his sentence. She tossed the case file onto the table without a second glance and stood. "Interesting. Coffee?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness, her smile a brittle, saccharine mask. 
Spencer froze, his words dying in his throat as she swiftly walked away. He felt a sinking sensation in his chest—an awkward mix of humiliation and disappointment. Was he that annoying? His hands trembled slightly as he glanced down at the book in his lap, the pages now feeling heavier than they had moments ago. He cleared his throat, but the discomfort lingered, thick in the air.
Y/N had been watching the whole exchange from her spot on the couch, her eyes narrowing as she watched JJ throw her head back in a loud laugh at something Morgan had said about “escaping the robot” from across the jet. That was the breaking point. Y/N's stomach twisted with frustration. She was tired—so tired—of watching JJ repeatedly gut the sweet boy simply because he had a hopeless crush on her, one that JJ clearly saw as beneath her.  
Swinging her legs from where they were tucked underneath her, Y/N stood and made her way to the seat JJ had previously been occupying, sliding into it abruptly.
Spencer’s head jerked up as she quickly filled the seat, blinking hard as confusion washed over his features. “Oh! Uh, hey Y/N… was there something you needed?” he asked softly, his gaze dropping back to the table, hoping she wouldn’t notice the wounded look in his eyes.
“I was listening to your conversation earlier and wanted to ask if you would continue. Please.”
Spencer’s mouth parted in surprise, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. She… wanted to listen to him? He swallowed, his brows furrowing slightly as he hesitated before speaking. “You... you don’t have to do that just to make me feel better, you know.”
Y/N shook her head firmly, her hands coming together on the table as she leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his. “Spencer,” she said softly, her voice steady. “I’m not asking you to continue because I feel sorry for you. I’m asking because I actually want to hear what you have to say.” Her tone was gentle yet sincere, and there was no mistaking the genuine interest in her words.
Spencer’s heart raced as he stared at her, his mind struggling to catch up with the moment before he finally opened his mouth, stumbling over the words to continue his excited rant from earlier. Spencer felt something shift inside him with every hum of acknowledgment, nod, and occasional question or light joke. It hit him all at once—this was how she always spoke to him: fully engaged, genuinely curious. She didn’t see him as the genius or the outcast. She saw him as... just Spencer. A person. Not a curiosity. Not a burden. Just him.
And for the rest of the flight, Y/N encouraged Spencer to spill every single thought that came to mind, entranced by the sweet boy in front of her for the entire time.
It was late when they finally landed, the team worn out and eager to get home. With quick goodbyes and Hotch’s promise of a day off tomorrow, the group trickled out of the office, one by one. When Spencer was left alone in the bullpen, he let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat at his desk under the guise of needing to look for something before leaving. His thoughts kept drifting back to the interaction with Y/N on the jet. He couldn’t shake it. And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.
It wasn’t like they weren’t already friends—talking to her was nothing out of the ordinary. But something about their interaction today felt different. Maybe it was how quickly she’d stepped in when she saw he was hurt? Then again, the more Spencer thought about it, the more he realized that wasn’t all that unusual either. He’d often felt out of place—whether it was the team’s teasing that sometimes went too far, JJ’s backhanded compliments that left him more bewildered than flattered, or the officers who looked past him because of his age or appearance.
And every time, without fail, Y/N had been there. She was always the one picking up the pieces of his bruised confidence, offering him quiet support with nothing more than a kind word or a warm smile, never asking for anything in return.
“Spencer?” 
Spencer jumped, the unexpected voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He spun around in his seat, heart racing, to find Y/N standing there, her hands raised in a placating gesture. He’d thought she’d already left with the rest of the team, but apparently, he’d been wrong.  
“Whoa, take it easy—it's just me. Are you okay?” Y/N approached slowly, her expression softening with concern as Spencer took slow, deep breaths, trying to steady his racing heart.
“Uh, yeah! I-I’m fine,” Spencer stammered, wincing as his voice cracked. “I just… I thought everyone had already left.”
“Oh, sorry,” she said with a chuckle, flashing a sheepish grin. “I told Hotch I’d drop everything off in evidence before heading out, but I kind of took my time.” She shrugged, then glanced at him. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he thought about her question. What was he still doing here, other than overthinking a simple conversation on the jet? He cleared his throat and stood up from his desk. “I thought I left a certain book here, but... it turns out it’s actually at home.” The weak excuse was followed by a nervous laugh as Spencer fidgeted with his fingers, silently hoping she wouldn’t question him further. 
It seemed luck was on his side, as she nodded slowly—her disbelief clear, but deciding not to press. Instead, she offered a soft smile and tilted her head toward the elevator. “Well, if you're heading out now, would you like to walk with me to my car?” Y/N asked, her voice laced with a hint of hope. “I can give you a ride so you don’t have to take the metro so late.”
Spencer was momentarily surprised by the offer, but before he could overanalyze it, he found himself nodding. She’d offered him rides before, and he’d always turned her down, worried he’d be inconveniencing her or that she was just being polite. But tonight, after the grueling case, he felt too drained to talk himself out of it. Honestly, he wasn’t opposed to spending a little more time with her—just the two of them.
“Um… that would be really nice, actually. Thank you.” 
Y/N waved it off with a playful grin. “It’s really no big deal, Spencer. I honestly wish you'd take me up on it more often. I worry about you on those late trains, and I live just five minutes from you. It’d be nice to have some company on the way home.” 
They continued their light conversation the entire way to the parking garage, pausing only when they got to her car. Y/N fumbled with her keys, unlocking the doors quickly before they slid inside.
The first thing Spencer noticed was the sweet fragrance of her perfume, filling the small space around them. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but now he found himself trying hard not to breathe in too deeply, captivated by the scent and wanting more of it. The smell of her shampoo blended with the fragrance, intensifying as she turned her head to back out of her parking spot. Spencer hadn’t even realized the car had started until that moment.
The next thing he noticed was the sticker on her dash reading Amor Fati. A faint smile curled at his lips as he shifted his gaze to her. He watched her silently for a moment as she focused on the road.
“Lover of fate, huh?”
“Hm?” Y/N frowned in confusion, shooting him a quick sideways glance as she stopped at a red light. It took a moment before she realized what he was referring to. “Oh, yeah. What about it, doc?” She chuckled, her voice light and teasing.
Spencer hummed, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, nothing… But, did you know that Friedrich Nietzsche built most of his philosophy around that phrase?”
They plunged into a lively conversation, exchanging thoughts on various philosophers and their personal interpretations of the phrase. Spencer was captivated. The only other person who had ever indulged him in such “nerdy” discussions was Penelope (mostly about Doctor Who, of course). It was oddly refreshing, but at the same time, it only added fuel to the fire of his overthinking.
What was it that kept him so hopelessly fixated on JJ? She could be a good friend at times—he wouldn’t deny that—but there were moments when he felt like nothing more than a charity case. Like that kid who clings to someone at school, oblivious to the fact that they don’t actually want to talk to them. She was beautiful, of course—anyone could see that. But they didn’t share much in common, and their hobbies barely aligned. So why did he always end up seeking her out, when there were so many other people he could spend time with?
After the incident on the jet, Spencer had made a decision. He was done pouring so much energy into the blonde liaison and instead would focus on building a genuine friendship with Y/N. Not just the casual co-worker relationship they had, but something real. Maybe that’s why her sudden attention on the jet had caught him off guard. Maybe it wasn’t a crush forming, but rather a deep-rooted loneliness, a subconscious desire for a true friend. That had to be it.
The drive to his apartment seemed to fly by, and as Spencer stepped out of the car, he was surprised by the sense of reluctance that settled over him. He murmured his thanks and goodnight to Y/N, offering a shy smile, his thoughts lingering on the brief but unexpected moment of connection.
"Hey, Spencer?" Y/N called just as he was about to close the door. He paused, and she went on, her tone genuine. "I meant what I said. If you ever want to skip the metro and ride with me instead, I’d love the company. Honestly, I enjoyed our drive so much more than the usual Top 40 hits on the radio."
Spencer’s smile grew, a hesitant nod accompanying the soft bite of his lower lip. This was the opportunity to build something real with her, and for once, he decided not to second-guess it. “I’d really like that, actually.”
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, a blend of relief and excitement bubbling up inside her. A smile spread across her face as she let out a soft breath. "Great. I’m looking forward to it," she said, her voice warm. "Goodnight, Spencer. Enjoy your day off tomorrow."
The first week of Spencer’s newfound behavior had Y/N feeling… disoriented, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not at all. She was genuinely thrilled by the extra attention, but she couldn’t quite figure out what had caused the sudden shift in their dynamic.
Spencer had begun riding home with her after work, both of them quickly growing fond of the newfound companionship. Throughout the day, he found himself gravitating toward her desk more often, offering to help with paperwork or providing a second opinion when she second guessed something. As they spent more time together, their conversations became easier—what had started as awkward exchanges soon evolved into Spencer initiating talks, no longer waiting for her to take the lead.
The irritated huff that escaped JJ’s lips as she stormed past everyone and into her office after Spencer politely declined her offer to sit with her and sort through case files, made it clear—Y/N wasn’t the only one noticing the change.
The next notable shift came when the BAU was called to California for a case. As everyone filed onto the jet and took their usual seats, there was one exception: Spencer Reid. When Y/N settled onto the couch, she was greeted by a soft, uncertain voice.
“Can I join you?” Spencer asked, his fingers nervously tugging at the end of his cardigan sleeves as he blinked at her with those sweet, vulnerable brown eyes.
The entire team glanced up in surprise, caught off guard by Spencer's decision not to take his usual spot across from JJ. Y/N, both puzzled and pleased, quickly moved to make space, patting the seat beside her with an encouraging smile.
"Of course, Spence. Go right ahead."
Spencer let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders drooping in relief as he settled into the seat next to Y/N, the tension he hadn’t realized he was carrying easing from his body. Ignoring the gawking from the others, he leaned in slightly, feeling more at ease in her presence. As Y/N opened the case file, he glanced at her with a small smile, ready to dive into the work with her by his side.
Morgan chuckled from across the jet, looking at JJ with raised brows as she scoffed to herself. "What'd you do to piss off the kid?"
“I didn’t do anything! And when did she start calling him ‘Spence’?” JJ grumbled, her arms crossed defensively as she narrowed her eyes at the two of them.
“Whoa,” Morgan muttered, his smile dropping into a frown. “Didn’t realize I was hitting a sore spot. What’s it matter what she calls him, anyway?”
JJ stiffened, her words catching in her throat as she struggled to respond. Morgan was right—she wasn’t the only one who could give Spencer a nickname. But that was her name for him, and it stung a little more now, given the distance that had been growing between them.
"It’s nothing," JJ replied quickly, forcing a casual shrug. "I was just surprised, that’s all." But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the unease lingering in her chest, unsure why it bothered her so much.
The remainder of the flight was spent with the team discussing the case, Hotch assigning tasks for when they touched down. Once they had gone over everything they could, the conversation tapered off, and silence settled over the cabin. Each team member retreated into their own thoughts, but Y/N and Spencer remained deep in discussion, quietly exchanging ideas about the unsub.
As they leaned in to continue their conversation, they unknowingly inched closer, drawn together by the ease of their shared focus. And when Spencer felt Y/N's knee brush against his, he kept his leg still, savoring the contact in silence—his secret to keep.
It took Spencer just over two months to finally gather the courage to ask Y/N to hang out outside of work or their shared car rides—something he had started contributing to so he could get more comfortable with driving. She’d quickly climbed the ranks of people he favored and felt comfortable with, but the fear of rejection still held him back. He didn’t want to jeopardize the connection they’d built, especially when it felt so important to him.
Spencer’s fear dissolved when he asked Y/N to come over and watch a film he’d picked up at an antique shop. Her excited smile and enthusiastic "Duh, I'd love to!" made him realize that she’d likely been waiting for him to take the first step all along.
He was grateful for how Y/N allowed him to move at his own pace, understanding that his accelerated path through high school and college had made it difficult for him to form connections. She never rushed him, giving him the space to open up when he was ready and letting their relationship develop naturally.
Y/N arrived at Spencer’s apartment, her arms loaded with snacks and dressed in cozy clothes, her excitement palpable. She enjoyed their car rides, of course, but an hour together hardly seemed enough compared to the time she truly longed to spend with him.
Y/N had been captivated by Spencer for years, but the more time they spent together, the harder her heart beat for him—every smile, every laugh, every conversation only added to her growing feelings. She told herself she was content with just being friends, that having him in her life, even in the smallest way, was enough. But deep down, she knew the truth—her heart yearned for something more, something that seemed just out of reach.
"Y/N! Hi, welcome in!"
The door swung open to reveal Spencer, his grin wide with excitement as he motioned for her to step inside. The sight of him—beaming with an almost childlike enthusiasm—made her smile in return. His apartment matched her expectations in the best way possible: shelves overflowing with books and quirky knick-knacks, soft, ambient light spilling from lamps that cast a cozy glow across the room, and a desk strewn with an organized mess of case files and open journals. It was a perfect reflection of Spencer—intellectually chaotic, but with an undeniable charm and warmth.
Spencer's heart skipped a beat as she entered the living room, and for a moment, he lost track of everything around him. He had always seen her dressed up for work—polished, professional, a perfect image of control. But now, in her casual clothes, with her hair down and no hint of the usual makeup, she looked entirely different.
She was still stunning, but it was a softer kind of beauty, one that crept up on him and left him breathless before he even realized it. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable at first glance, but once he took her in, he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away. Spencer had always thought he knew Y/N, but this version of her… this version felt like a secret he wasn’t ready to discover yet.
"Where would you like these?" Y/N asked, lifting her arms up with the snacks.
The sound of her voice broke Spencer from his daze, and he quickly moved to help, grabbing a few items to set them down on the coffee table. "Oh, uh, you didn’t have to bring snacks," he stammered, his hands fumbling with the food as he awkwardly rearranged it. "I was just going to order takeout or something. You’re the guest," he added, his words tumbling out in a nervous rush. His mind was racing, still caught in the subtle sweetness of her perfume that lingered in the air as he leaned in to grab the bags, making it hard to focus.
Y/N shrugged, a small grin playing on her lips as she set the snacks down. "I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And if you’re still craving takeout later, I won't stop you from ordering it. Sound good?"
He nodded, his nose twitching as he grinned, feeling his tension ease. It was just Y/N, he reminded himself. There was no reason to feel this flustered.
An hour later, with the movie playing and a bag of gummy bears between them, Spencer quickly realized he'd been wrong. He had plenty of reasons to feel flustered.
The film, which had subtitles, was riddled with translation errors. Each time a jumbled sentence appeared, Y/N would lean in close, her breath warm against his ear causing shivers up and down his spine as she whispered, "What does that one mean?" Her thigh brushed against his, neither of them making any effort to break the contact. Spencer felt an almost electric warmth spread through him from the slight touch, his body aching for more. Was he really that starved for affection?
That night seemed to crack something deep inside him, like a dam giving way to a flood of longing for touch.
Spencer—who had always been wary of physical contact—now found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he hadn’t anticipated. Every time they handed each other papers or worked on case files together, he’d make sure their fingers brushed. As he passed by her desk, he’d let his fingers trace along her shoulder blades, offering her a quiet smile that she always returned. After particularly exhausting days, he’d seek her out, leaning into her embrace, letting her arms offer him comfort and grounding. And during their hangouts, Spencer no longer hesitated to inch closer, letting his side press against hers, or allowing her to stretch her legs over his lap. The proximity felt natural, and he couldn’t help but crave it more.
It only got worse as time went on. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. It wasn't just casual touches anymore—it was almost as if every opportunity to be near her was a chance to close the distance between them. Y/N couldn't get enough of it. And the team? They definitely noticed. JJ, in particular, seemed to pick up on it right away.
JJ had attempted to confront Spencer about his growing closeness with Y/N before, but each time, he waved her off, insisting that he and Y/N had simply discovered they had more in common than he'd realized and that he just wanted to be her friend. JJ wasn’t convinced—not for a second. It was obvious to her that Spencer was falling for Y/N, and for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, it left a bad taste in her mouth. It wasn’t that she harbored romantic feelings for him, but she had grown accustomed to his attention. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed being the one to receive it.
The tension finally boiled over when the team was dispatched to a case in Oregon.
It had been six months since the incident on the jet, and Y/N and Spencer had become almost inseparable. Garcia and Morgan, delighted by their closeness, often teased them and playfully begged them to just admit they were dating—though both vehemently insisted that their relationship was purely platonic. Rossi and Emily often exchanged knowing looks on the jet, with Emily even going so far as to snap a picture of Y/N and Spencer sleeping on the couch after a case—a cute picture featuring Spencer’s head resting on Y/N’s and her face tucked into his shoulder as they peacefully dozed together. Even Hotch seemed to approve, having reviewed the Bureau’s internal fraternization policies just in case Strauss raised an issue. The only person who didn’t seem thrilled about it was JJ.
Two days in Oregon, and the team was already facing an uphill battle. They’d been working non-stop to build a profile for the unsub, but so far, nothing had gone right. There were no witnesses who could provide a description, a local officer had already compromised key evidence from the first crime scene, and the victims seemed to have no clear link to one another. Frustration was mounting for everyone, but for JJ it was mounting for an entirely separate reason.
Spencer had been managing his frustration through subtle touches with Y/N—brief brushes of his hand against her lower back as he passed, pressing his head into her shoulder with a frustrated groan after combing through their limited information for hours... But the moment that pushed JJ to her breaking point was when Spencer, noticing an officer staring at Y/N, pulled her possessively into him, his hand firmly gripping her waist until that officer left the room.
"Y/N?"
JJ's voice was tight as she stepped into the conference room the local officers had set up for the BAU to use during their case, spotting Y/N standing in front of the pinned-up map of the area as she studied the locations where the victims had been found. Spencer had just left, going to start more coffee for them since they were running low. The rest of the team was out in the field, reinvestigating the crime scenes for anything that may have been missed initially.
Y/N looked up, her brow furrowing as JJ closed the door. They weren’t close on a personal level, and Y/N couldn’t think of any reason, related to the case or otherwise, for JJ to want to speak with her alone.
"...Yes?"
JJ lingered near the end of the table, her arms crossed across her chest as she leveled Y/N with a look that immediately had her on edge. "I’m not trying to pry, but as his best friend, I have to ask… what’s going on between you and Spencer?" Her face was twisted in a scowl, her head tilting as she waited for a response.
Y/N's eyebrows nearly shot up into her hairline at that, a scoffed laugh leaving her lips before she could stop it. His best friend. Was she serious?
"Excuse me?"
"What's going on with you and Spencer?" JJ repeated, her voice deliberate. "Everyone’s noticed how he’s been acting—the constant touching, for one, is a bit much, don’t you think? He never wants to hang out with me anymore. It’s like he's all about you now. So, are you two seeing each other or what?"
Y/N turned to face JJ fully, her lips tightening into a thin line as she took a steadying breath. Her audacity was astounding, truly. The last thing she wanted today was to argue with this fucking—
"That's hilarious, Jennifer. Really," Y/N chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—Spencer is an adult who can make his own decisions? I’m not the reason he doesn't want to spend time with you."
JJ stiffened at the mention of her name, scoffing in response. "Oh, clearly you have something to do with it. Before you started driving him home, he followed me around like a lost puppy. Now he barely even wants to be around me!"
That struck a nerve in Y/N, like a live wire finally sparked to life. A lost puppy? Was that truly how little she thought of him? Y/N's head tilted, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone as she spoke again.
"Don't you ever talk about Spencer like that again. He's not your fucking pet, Jennifer!"
Her voice was menacing as she stepped forward, grim satisfaction coursing through her as JJ stumbled backward.
"Spencer is a brilliant, capable man who’s never deserved the way you or anyone else have made him feel less than that. We’re not dating. But if we were, I wouldn’t be ashamed of him. Unlike you, who found the idea of a man like him adoring you repulsive instead of seeing it for the gift it was. Spencer Reid is a fucking treasure, and it’s entirely your fault you never realized how lucky you were to have his attention."
Y/N's face was flushed red with anger, her chest heaving as she seethed.
"So again, I have nothing to do with him not wanting to spend time with you anymore. Maybe he finally realized that you're just not as great of a person as you pretend to be."
Rather than waiting for the teary-eyed, speechless blonde to reply, Y/N grabbed her things and stormed out, heading out to take an early lunch. But as she swung the door open, she was met with Spencer standing right there, and before she could react, she collided with his chest. His hands immediately flew to her waist, steadying her as she looked up sheepishly.
"Shit! I’m sorry, Spence," Y/N muttered, still fuming from her conversation with JJ. Her face turned even redder when she realized he might have heard some of it, but she didn’t regret a word of what she’d said.
He hadn't just heard some of it... He'd heard all of it. When he’d left earlier, he’d turned back, intending to ask if she wanted to take a break from the map. Instead, he had been met with the sight of JJ closing the door, and he curiously (shamefully) pressed up against it to know what was going on.
Admittedly, it stung to hear JJ talk about him like that, even though he already knew she'd taken advantage of his past crush on her. But Y/N's words and how she defended him hit him harder than expected. It became clear in that instant—no one had ever been there for him the way she always had been, and somewhere along the way, he'd fallen deeply in love with her.
"Hey, hey, it’s alright," Spencer said quietly, his hands smoothing over her waist before resting gently on her shoulders. "Go take your lunch. You’ve earned a break. I’ll keep working on the geographical profile until you return."
Y/N offered a weary but grateful smile before walking away, leaving Spencer alone to process the revelation weighing on him.
That night, Spencer paced his hotel room, caught between waiting until they were home to tell Y/N how he felt or just saying it now. He felt like an idiot for not recognizing it sooner, for convincing himself his feelings for her were purely platonic. But now that he knew, it consumed him. He wanted to shout it to the heavens, to tell the world he was in love with her.
Spencer knew what he had to do. He realized that confessing his feelings in the middle of a case wasn’t ideal, but the thought of waiting any longer to let her know how much she meant to him was unbearable. That’s why, before he could talk himself out of it, he found himself standing outside her door at midnight, knocking softly.
"Spence? You okay?"
Her sleepy voice tugged at his heart as she opened the door, rubbing her eyes and letting out a soft yawn. She smiled faintly, gesturing for him to come in. The room was cloaked in darkness, but the moonlight spilling through the curtains illuminated the crumpled sheets, evidence of her restless sleep.
His heart hammered in his chest as he breathed in unsteadily, lowering himself onto the edge of her bed. She crawled back to the middle, flicking on the bedside lamp, the soft light casting a warm glow between them. His courage started to falter, but the gentle concern in her eyes anchored him. He remembered why he was here—because with her, he felt safe enough to face this, no matter how vulnerable he felt.
"Y/N, I—" Spencer began, his voice catching for a moment, but he continued anyway. "I heard what happened with JJ earlier, and it made me realize something I should’ve recognized a long time ago. I was so caught up in denial that it didn’t hit me until now. And I’m so sorry for that…"
Oh, fuck. He was starting to ramble. This isn't how he wanted this to go at all—
"Y/N... I'm in love with you. I am so, so in love with you that it aches. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And it’s not just the way you look, though I could spend hours talking about how stunning you are. It’s who you are, the goodness that radiates from you. You make me want to be better, to wake up every day and try to be at least half the person you are. You care for everyone around you like it’s your purpose, and I want to be the one who takes care of you for once because you truly deserve that. I’ve never felt anything like this, and if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. But I just—I needed you to know."
Y/N’s jaw dropped as Spencer’s confession filled the air, her eyes welling with tears as the words she had longed for spilled from him. She moved swiftly, sitting up from the pillows and crawling toward him, a tear dripping down her cheek as she rested her hands on his shoulders.
"I love you too, Spencer Reid," she breathed, her voice trembling with sincerity. "I love you with everything I am."
Spencer’s lungs burned as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He returned her watery smile, his heart overflowing with love for the woman before him. Carefully, he cupped her face, his thumb following the line of her cheeks, his eyes filled with a quiet mix of wonder and adoration.
“Can I kiss you? Please?”
Her lips were on his the second he uttered the last syllable.
The kiss was both gentle and intense, their lips meeting with a deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment of crossing the line from friendship into something more. There was a hunger beneath the tenderness, an unspoken yearning finally being released. Their lips parted for only a second, allowing them to suck in a quick breath before they were back on each other. Each kiss was a quiet revelation, better than they had ever dreamed.
What started as an innocent declaration of their feelings for each other quickly evolved into something more ravenous as Spencer’s tongue prodded at the seam of her lips. The soft exhale Y/N released as their tongues brushed together had Spencer groaning, one of his hands sliding to cradle the back of her head as he savored the taste of her and the feeling of her lips against his. His other hand gingerly slid down her body, settling on her hip as he leaned forward, guiding her to rest against the pillows.
Y/N’s thighs parted eagerly to make room for him between them, her hands lacing through his hair as she tugged him impossibly closer. His elbows dug into the mattress beside her body as he hovered above her, swallowing the moan that slipped from her lips when their hips pressed together. He chased her lips when she tipped her head back, kissing her with an intensity that made her dizzy and had her whining into his mouth.
"I-I want— Spence, please—"
Y/N pleaded as his lips trailed down the side of her neck to suck a mark into her collarbone, though she wasn't even sure what she was begging for. She just knew she needed him. Her body felt like it was aflame, ignited by the spark that was Spencer's tongue soothing the possessive bruise now blooming across her skin. She needed him so desperately that her mind became a blur, consumed by an endless craving, unable to focus on anything but the overwhelming desire for more—more of him, more of this, more of everything he offered.
The thin fabric of their pajamas did little to conceal the feeling of his stiff cock grinding against her in subtle rocks of his hips as his hands began to roam her body, only adding to the overwhelming need she felt coursing through her. Spencer hushed her with a gentle peck, his lips lingering against hers for a brief, sweet moment before he moved to kiss her nose, her cheeks, and finally her forehead. With each gentle kiss, she couldn't help but giggle softly, her laughter melting into the space between them.
"I know, pretty girl. You're already so worked up and all I've done is kiss you," he cooed, the words taking her by surprise. He wasn't wrong. A wet patch had started seeping through the cotton of her pants, something his fingers had taken an interest in as he began to lightly skim up and down her clit with his knuckles over the damp fabric. "No one ever takes care of you, do they, baby? Let me be the one to take care of you, Y/N. Please?" He paused, gently lifting her chin so he could meet her gaze.
Spencer’s words quieted the storm raging inside her, and she took a deep breath, her body finally relaxing. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a strong desire to let go, to stop carrying the weight of everything alone. To finally surrender and let someone take care of her. So she did exactly that.
"Yes. God, yes. Please, Spencer," Y/N whispered, her eyes searching his, full of need and trust.
It was as if a switch flipped the moment Spencer got the confirmation he needed.
His lips were back on hers in an instant, devouring her as though she'd melt away if he stopped touching her for even a second. He rolled them over, breaking the kiss to glide his hands underneath the rumpled t-shirt Y/N had on for bed and lifting it over her head in one swift motion. Ignoring her soft squeal of surprise, he brought his hands down to her hips, massaging the skin there before sliding his hands under the waistband of her pajama pants to grip her ass.
"Look at you… You're nothing short of incredible. Absolutely breathtaking," Spencer murmured, staring up at her in awe. The soft brown of his eyes had faded, overtaken by the dark void of his dilated pupils, as if a veil had been drawn across them. "I can't even begin to express how lucky I am to have you... how beautiful you are."
Y/N’s cheeks flushed under his gaze, her teeth gently catching her lower lip as she placed her hands beside his head for support. She shivered as her nipples brushed against the fabric of his shirt, hardened by the cool air of the hotel room and the desire she felt coursing through her. She answered with a hum and ducked her head shyly, mouthing at the sensitive skin underneath his jaw as she wriggled impatiently in his hold.
Spencer chuckled breathlessly, squeezing her ass again before retracting his hands. His fingers danced along the waistband of her pants teasingly before he began to tug them down, dragging her panties with them. His heart raced as she wiggled out of them, hammering against his chest with a rhythm that felt almost deafening. He couldn’t comprehend what he’d done to deserve someone like her, but he would spend a lifetime making sure she knew just how precious she was to him.
"It's your turn to strip," Y/N mumbled as she sat up, straddling his waist as her hands found their way under his shirt. "I feel so... exposed."
Spencer’s brows quirked in amusement, a quiet laugh slipping out before he could stop it as she shoved the shirt up and over his head. She slithered down his body, grinning up at him before placing a kiss on his hip bone. His pants soon joined the growing pile of clothes on the ground, followed shortly after by his boxers.
"There. Is that better, sweetheart?" Spencer teased, but the words went completely unheard as she gawked at him.
Y/N kneeled between his spread legs, her hands planted firmly on his thighs as she took in the sight of him. He lay before her like something straight out of her most vivid dreams, more stunning than she’d ever imagined. He was effortlessly handsome—his hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from their kisses, and freckles and scars scattered across his shoulders and chest like a map of his past. His muscles were lean and toned, and the sparse hair trailing down beneath his belly button was far more enticing than it should've been. His cock was as pretty as he was, the flushed head of his more than impressive arousal matching the pink of his cheeks.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
"C'mere. I'm supposed to be taking care of you," Spencer grinned, motioning for Y/N to crawl back over him.
Instead of letting her settle with her thighs around his hips like she had previously been, he tugged insistently, her brows furrowing in confusion as she wobbled above him.
"Spencer, what—"
"Get up here," Spencer crooned, finally managing to maneuver her forward so her pussy hovered over his mouth. "And sit down."
Y/N's jaw dropped, her hands flying out to catch herself as she gripped the headboard. She was taken aback, utterly speechless. Here she was, being manhandled by Spencer Reid. The same quiet, awkward genius who rambled endlessly about statistics and couldn’t sit still for more than a minute was man-handling her and demanding she sit on his face. Was she dreaming?
"Are you— are you sure?" Y/N squeaked, staring down at him with wide eyes. "You really don't have to—"
Spencer turned his head so he could pepper open-mouthed kisses up and down her inner thigh, coaxing a soft moan from her as his warm breath fanned across her soaked folds.
"Stop all that worrying, pretty girl. I told you I'd take care of you—let me keep my word."
Before she could protest, Spencer gripped her hips, pulling her down at the same time he tilted his head up to lap his tongue over her core. Any hesitation Y/N had left evaporated from her body as a guttural moan ripped its way from her throat, her eyes fluttering shut as Spencer dragged his tongue over her clit. His movements were languid but hungry as he reveled in the taste of her, relishing her essence as though it was the very thing he needed to fuel his existence.
The air was filled with a mixture of moans and the slick sound of Spencer's mouth working between her legs, only amplifying the intense pleasure swimming through her body. Once Spencer was sure Y/N would stay put, he let one of his hands fall away from her hips, tracing it down his body until it wrapped around his cock. The breathy sounds she was letting out had him painfully hard, his thumb spreading the bead of precum spilling from the tip down the length of him as he began to pump himself.
"Oh, fuck—" Y/N whined as she forced her eyes open, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of Spencer touching himself. The sight had her thighs trembling, a low groan rumbling in her throat as she turned her gaze down to look at him underneath her.
His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows pinched together in pleasure as his hand began to move faster. It was downright sinful. She'd never seen anything more beautiful.
Spencer alternated between fucking his tongue into her and sucking gently at her clit, the combination hurtling her toward her orgasm at a speed she never thought was possible. Y/N's hips rocked against his face, frantic whimpers slipping from her lips as her face began to scrunch in pleasure. The needy moans he was letting out against her skin pushed her over the edge as a sharp gasp broke free into the air, followed by a loud cry as her hands dropped from the headboard to tangle into his hair while she came.
Spencer whimpered as he let go of himself, instead using his hands to anchor her down while he gently worked her through her climax. He pressed a small kiss to her clit before she squirmed away, falling onto the bed beside him as her chest heaved. A look of adoration lingered on his face as he stroked her side and hair, pressing his lips to her forehead while she caught her breath.
Y/N flashed a small grin, rolling her eyes at his proud expression. A comforting heaviness settled in her limbs, pulling her deeper into the bed as she released a soft sigh. It took her a few moments to push herself up on her elbow, shifting to face him instead of lying flat on her back.
"How am I ever supposed to get anything done again now that I know you can do that?" Y/N murmured with a hint of exasperation, tilting her head to nuzzle her nose against his.
Spencer’s breath hitched as she draped her leg across his waist, hissing quietly as the head of his cock brushed against her warmth. He hummed, feigning thought before shrugging with a playful grin. "Could be a reward for a job well done," he teased, brushing a lingering kiss across her lips as his hand rubbed up and down her thigh.
"Yeah?" Y/N's hips began to slowly rock back and forth, the friction from his cock pressing between her folds making her head spin. "Well, can I reward you for a job well done then?"
Spencer's fingers flexed against her thigh, a low noise escaping him as he fought to keep his eyes on hers.
It made sense to him now why sailors would plummet into icy waters at the sound of a siren's call. If that call was anything as alluring as the sound of her voice, he'd happily do the same. She could demand the most heinous things of him right now and he'd do them simply because she asked.
But tonight was about her.
So instead of caving and begging for her touch, he shook his head, his lips quirking up at the pout forming on her lips. "As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetheart. Not the other way around."
"Okay... so then take care of me by fucking me. Please?"
Spencer's resolve broke at her words. How could he possibly deny her? He'd be an absolute fool not to give her whatever her heart wished for.
His lips met hers in a fervent kiss as he moved to hover over her once more. Two of his fingers found her soaked pussy and sank inside of her with little resistance, a smug grin finding its way to his face as she gasped loudly into his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her jaw before he whispered into her ear.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
Y/N bucked her hips up into his touch, writhing underneath him as she nodded frantically. There wasn't a thing in this world that she wanted more. "Yes, Spence, please. Please fuck me. I need it—"
Spencer groaned, latching his lips onto the side of her neck as he inhaled sharply through his nose before he sat back on his heels. His fingers slipped out of her, her eyes widening as he brought the digits to his mouth and sucked them clean with a satisfied hum.
"Flip over."
Y/N followed his command without hesitation, the rush of anticipation making her feel almost detached, as though she were on autopilot, waiting to see what he would do next. Her breath caught in her throat as his lips pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder before he reached for a pillow, tucking it underneath her hips to prop her up. A low whine emitted from her chest as she felt the flushed head of his arousal bump against her entrance, her hips canting back in an attempt to get him to push forward as he leaned forward, his chest brushing her back as he planted his hands into the mattress beside her.
"Do you want it like this, sweetheart? No condom? Because I can go find one..." Spencer murmured into her ear, his breathing labored as he teased her opening.
"Please— Wanna feel you, Spence," She whined into the pillow, arching her hips into his touch, though he remained just out of reach.
Spencer's eyes squeezed shut as a pang of arousal shot through him, taking a shuddering breath to mentally prepare himself not to blow his load before he even fucked her. With a kiss to the back of her head, Spencer began to press forward, easing into her inch by inch.
Y/N's mouth gaped open against the pillow she'd tugged underneath her head in a silent moan, the sensation of him finally filling her more intense than she'd expected. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he bottomed out, a pitiful whimper slipping free as she wiggled her hips in an attempt to adjust to the feeling. Her walls clenched around him instinctively as she adjusted, causing a broken moan to fall from his lips as his head rested against her shoulder, his breath puffing across her skin in warm bursts.
His right arm kept him braced above her while his left arm made its way under her chest, pulling her close as his hand began to grope at her breasts. His fingertips pinched one of her nipples, reveling in the soft moan she let out. "Are you ready for me to move, pretty girl?" He breathed, peppering kisses along the side of her face as he waited for her to relax.
At her nod, Spencer began to move, his thrusts slow but powerful as he repeatedly drove into her. He shifted up onto his knees, pulling her hips back into his languid thrusts as she moaned beneath him. The angle allowed him to brush her G-spot with every stroke, causing her toes to curl with each pang of pleasure that wracked her body. His hands squeezed the flesh of her ass, a low whine bubbling in his throat as he took in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her.
It was downright erotic, the sight of her arousal coating the wiry curls at the base of him driving him insane. She was so fucking wet for him. The knowledge that he was making her feel this good made his head spin. He couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He needed to show her how deeply this was affecting him, to make her understand the intensity of the way she made him feel.
Everyone knew Spencer liked to run his mouth. It wasn't a surprise that this remained true during sex. What surprised Y/N, however, was how absolutely filthy of a mouth the man had. Spencer, the same Spencer who had barely uttered a curse in all the years she'd known him, was now stringing together words that would make even the most foul-mouthed person blush.
His pace increased with each word he murmured, small "ah, ah, ah's" spilling from her lips as he began to really pound into her.
"Does that feel good? Huh? Finally being taken care of the way you deserve?"
"Fuck— look at you, baby. Taking my cock so well. Do you like that? You like feeling me stretch you open?"
"Such a perfect pussy, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. So tight. My beautiful girl."
Every vulgar word he breathed into the space between them had her mind reeling, her body teetering on the edge of release as her walls fluttered around him. Desperate moans began to spill from her as she took everything he had to offer, her teeth digging into her lower lip to try to stifle the noises in an attempt not to wake everyone on that floor of the hotel. Spencer's gaze was locked on the way her ass rippled with each thrust, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as his brows pinched together and his mouth hung open.
"S-Spence— I'm so close—" Y/N whimpered, burying her face into the pillow beneath her as she moaned helplessly.
He dragged one of his hands away from where it was squeezing her hip, shoving it between her hips and the pillow propping her up as he began to stroke her clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go, sweet girl. Cum around my cock. Show me how good I make you feel."
She cried out at that, thrashing underneath him as the tension coiling in her lower belly finally snapped. Spencer's hips stuttered, a guttural moan wrenching its way from his throat as she squeezed around him, her legs trembling as one of the most powerful orgasms she'd ever experienced washed over her in waves.
"God— fuck, I'm about to cum," Spencer grunted, his eyes squeezing shut briefly as he swallowed hard, his chest heaving with exertion as he fucked her through it. "Where do you want it, pretty girl?"
"Wanna taste you... Spence, please—" Y/N slurred beneath him, weakly pushing up on her elbows to turn and look at him over her shoulder. Her bottom lip was swollen and lightly bruised from how hard she'd been biting at it, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears as the pleasure began to overwhelm her.
The sight of her looking so ruined almost had him spilling inside of her, and with a muffled curse he pulled out of her, fisting his cock as she rolled onto her back and stuck her tongue out patiently. He shuffled up her body, bracing himself with one hand against the headboard as he gazed down at her reverently. The amusement he felt from the brief feeling of deja vu from having her in a similar position earlier that night was short-lived as his head tipped back, a strained whimper filling the air as her tongue brushed against the head of his cock.
It only took a few pumps for him to cum, his eyes rolling back into his head when she sat up to take him further into her mouth as rope after rope of his essence flooded her throat. Y/N sucked gently, working him through his orgasm until his hips were jerking and he was whining, pulling off of his softening cock with a slick 'pop'. He crumpled onto the bed next to her, his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage as he struggled to catch his breath.
Spencer wrapped her tightly in his arms, his lips brushing against the top of her head with soft, repeated kisses. Between each tender touch, he murmured how incredible she made him feel, how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to share this life with her, let alone love her the way he did. Y/N whispered back, her voice soft but full of conviction, telling him how deeply she cherished him and how every part of her was filled with love for him.
Her fingers idly traced patterns across the flushed skin of his chest until he caught her hand, pressing tender kisses to her knuckles before quietly slipping out of bed. She groaned petulantly as he pulled her to her feet, ushering her towards the bathroom with a pat to her butt and a mumbled but passionate lecture on the timeframe after sex in which she needed to pee to avoid getting a UTI. Even though she knew he was right, she still rolled her eyes as she trudged into the bathroom. She decided to brush her teeth while she was there as well, giggling to herself at the thought of kissing Spencer with the taste of him still in her mouth.
When she stepped out, Spencer had changed the sheets and set a bottle of water on the nightstand, flashing a drowsy grin as she slipped into bed next to him and turned the lamp out. "What's all this about?" she teased, her smile breaking into a yawn.
"I'm taking care of you, just like I said I would."
It didn’t take long for exhaustion to settle in, both of them murmuring good nights between soft kisses. As they drifted off together, Y/N felt certain he would be taking care of her for the rest of his life—and she was just as sure that she would do the same for him.
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Continued A/N's: Happy (late) start to December!! I really hope you guys enjoy this :') I plan on doing a little something (maybe, possibly ;) ) for Christmas, so stay tuned for updates on what that little something may be. Also, a loving reminder that my requests are open! :) <3 K
REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.
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yandere-daydreams · 9 months ago
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file #5: the lactation fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!sukuna x reader (jjk).
length: 1.8k.
warnings: afab!reader, heian era sukuna, vaguely dubious consent, lactation (not the way you’d expect though), fem!dom, verbal degradation (m. receiving), breast milk, and mentions of death/cannibalism.
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If you could say you’d learned anything about Sukuna, it would have to be that he was not the kind of man you could expect predictability from.
That was, if you could even call him a man at all. It would be more accurate to say that he was not the kind of monster you could expect predictability from, which made sense – monsters were rarely known for having a rational motivation for their senselessness. With Sukuna, though, it was less that you were forced to guess how violent he’d be and more whether he’d be violent with you at all. It was as common for him to demand that you spend the afternoon laying on a shady riverbank, feeding him honey and grapes, as it was for him to threaten to gut you like cattle should you make one more snide comment about the bloodstains his constantly wandering hands tend to leave on your clothes. His other servant, the inexpressive butcher who spoke to you rarely and reeked constantly of blood, claimed to be able to find a pattern to the chaos, but whatever knowledge they might’ve gleaned over their time with him, they’d never seen fit to share with you. You found your own ways of coping, though.
Like right now, for instance – as you hung limply over Sukuna’s shoulder, kept in place only by the hand pressing into the small of your back. Despite the way his arm bit into your stomach, a slight scowl that’d been playing on his lips when he snatched you away from what you’d been doing, you did your best to keep your mind empty, your thoughts limited to a blank ambiance. If there was as good of a chance that he was going to kill you and feast on your decaying flesh as there was that he simply needed someone to fix yet another tear in his favored yukata, you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself by panicking prematurely.
Still, you were vaguely aware of the passing scenery as he hauled you through grand, vacant halls and into the master’s chambers. Sukuna would find a place to dwell wherever he roamed, whether that meant sleeping in a damp cave or on a bed of woven cloud and quail feathers, but a part of you was undeniably (and guiltily) glad that he had a clear preference for the latter. Currently, you were biding your time until Sukuna’s next feeding spree in a palace that used to belong to a wealthy merchant; a merchant whose organs were, if memory served, currently being divided into portions and dried on a rack of—
You were pulled out of your thoughts as Sukuna dropped you onto a bed of down-stuffed pillows and silk sheets. Wordlessly, he fell beside you and, using his lower set of arms, hauled you onto his chest, forcing you to straddle his abdomen. With only a slight huff, a roll of your eyes, you settled into place – bracing your hands on his midriff. “My lord, I have other obligations to—”
“I am the only obligation you should be paying any mind to.” His tone was clipped, his voice gruff. Clearly, he was in one of his poorer moods, today. “Get on with it” he barked, making with a vague gesture to his upper chest. “I don’t have all day, brat.”
You spared a half-second to scan over him. He treated you like a tailor, among other things, but at the moment, his chest was bare, and this wasn’t exactly comparable to the countless times he’d dropped the tattered shreds of a kimono or yukata into your lap and told you to make something more or less wearable. “I… I’m afraid I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to be doing, sir.”
He rolled his eyes, and you bit back the urge to return his irritation. “Y’know, just…” Another gesture to his chest, this one shortly followed by a disappointed, breathy noise. “Empty them out. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, again.”
Empty them…?
Again, you glanced down, your attention landing on the swell of his chest. He was always sickeningly bulky, prone to wearing his strength on the layers of muscle blanketing his biceps and thighs, but his chest did seem more swollen that it normally was, now that you thought to look, the usually hardened flesh visibly more plush, more tender. You shifted your weight, your fingertips digging into the swell of his right pec, and you felt something warm and wet trickle over the back of your hand and onto the velveteen cushions below you.
Sukuna let out an airy groan, and your mind went entirely blank.
Reflexively, you tried to pull away, but Sukuna had always been faster than you. His hand was wrapped around your wrist before you could so much as break contact, keeping your palm pressed into his pec (breast?). “Don’t act like such a baby. It’s a task even an idiot could manage.” With his hand draped over your own, he ground the heel of your palm into the plush of his pec, and this time, you weren’t lucky enough to look away in time – your eyes falling to his chest as a thin stream of a surprisingly white, surprisingly thick fluid dribbled out of his nipple in short, stilted bursts. Milk, your mind filled in, against your will. Except, it couldn’t be. Sukuna wasn’t human. Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.
More out of curiosity than anything, you pressed your palm down again with just a little more force, a little less trepidation. The jet was stronger, this time, and Sukuna’s eyes closed, his lips soon drawn into a thin line only occasionally parting to let out a deep breath or raspy groan. His hand dropped away entirely as you fell into a steady kneading pattern – both of his upper arms soon crossed above his head, as he often did when he was lounging in a particularly entrancing patch of sunlight, while their lower counterparts remained on your waist. “Use both hands,” he grunted, and not bothering to suppress your scowl, you did. Soon enough, milk (because, as unsettling as it was, you just didn’t know what else to call it) frothed steadily, painting both sides of his chest with unorganized streaks of splotchy white – delicate ribbons spread over a canvas of ink and scars.
Despite yourself, you found yourself focusing on that. The word, almost jarringly quaint, repeated in the back of your mind; milk, milk, milk. Almost in a trance, you found yourself bowing your head, lowering yourself until your chest was slotted against his. After making sure his eyes were still closed, his attention still on the steady movement of your hands, you ran the flat of your tongue over his left nipple and—
Oh.
It was sweet.
His hand was on the back of your head in an instant, but you were already latched on – your lips sealed around his nipple, sucking harshly. There wasn’t a point trying to be gentle with Sukuna, not when you’d seen him take spears to heart without so much as a wayward flinch, but any passing temptation to veer towards delicacy was quickly forgotten as thick fingers knotted themselves in your hair, a reverberating moan tearing past his lips as you lapped and suckled, letting whatever you couldn’t swallow down flood out of the corner of your mouth. He could’ve pried you away, if he’d wanted to, could’ve torn off your head with little more than a flick of his wrist, but all he offered was a weak – pathetic – tug, a few garbled curses spat under his breath. “Brat,” he hissed, as you drank greedily. “Just— Just do your damn job and—”
“You’re so fucking loud,” you muttered, pulling back just far enough to be audible. “For once in your life, would it kill you to be quiet?”
You couldn’t see him, but you’d seen him baring his teeth often enough to recognize his tone. “Know your place, huma—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before you could think better of it, you braced yourself and bit down, burying your teeth into the tender meat of his chest. You tasted blood, heard Sukuna moan, and felt his body jolt underneath you, hips jutting against yours as something long and thick twitched against your ass. You pulled away as quickly as you could, already grinning. “Are you…?
“Be quiet.”
He was. You could feel his cock against your ass - already hard, already pulsing. Or, his cocks, rather, both standing stiff against his lower stomach despite the loose fabric of his robes. Carefully, you shifted back, straddling his thighs, as you slowly removed the thin sash sitting low on his waist, as you dragged the silken fabric aside in favor of wrapping your fist around the thicker of his paired cocks; your fingers barely grazing each other where they were supposed to overlap. “No wonder you’re always so temperamental,” you went on, speaking slowly, giving him every chance to cut you off, to throw you to the side, to tear you limb from limp. He only scowled, though, only pouted, clenching his eyes shut as thick beads of arousal blotted and dripped over the back of your hand. “To think the King of Curses would get this hard from some powerless human sucking on his leaking tits… You must be so pent up, you just don’t care who touches you, huh?”
His hold on your hips tightened, threatening to bruise. You barely noticed, already distracted by the slight tremble in his bottom lip, the pitchy whine that escaped his grit teeth as you shifted your weight onto your knees and aligned the blunt, flushed tip of his cock with your entrance. You took measured seconds to lower yourself onto him, ignoring the burning stretch in favor of focusing on the heat of it, the immediate and overwhelming fullness. You’d barely gotten the head of his cock inside of you when you stopped, going completely still. A second passed before Sukuna seemed to notice, another before one of his many eyes flickered open – immediately landing on you.
It was barely a whisper, a breath. He was mumbling, as much as you knew Sukuna would loathe you for accusing him of something so meek aloud. “Do your—” A bubbling groan, a hitched gasp as your pussy clenched around him. “Do your damn job, brat.”
Your attempts to bite back your wide, beaming smile were only half-successful. “It would be my pleasure, my lord.”
You rolled your hips as you lowered yourself back to his height, trapping his unsheathed cock between your body and his as your mouth found its way back to his nipple. It was barely another minute before he was swearing, groaning, bucking into you from below in short, stilted thrusts – like he was afraid of so much as coming close to slipping out. It was all you could do to stay concentrated on the task at-hand, to stop your mind from wandering from the taste on him on your tongue, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside your pussy. Still, you found the time to allow yourself a single, self-indulgent thought – one so ridiculous and so simpering that you couldn’t help but laugh against his skin.
Maybe, just maybe, there were sides of Sukuna that weren’t so difficult to predict, after all.  
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babybatsunite · 2 months ago
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My girl - Spencer Reid x tattooed!fem reader
Genre: Fluff, romance
Word count: 1,5k
Summary: Spencer’s tough girlfriend, Y/n, was never the type to take shit from anyone. And it's not like a new recruit with attitude problems would be any different.
Warnings: Misogynistic views, homophobic language, English is not my first language.
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The Quantico bullpen was buzzing as usual – ringing phones, the hum of the coffee maker, and agents running around with files. The BAU had been assigned a fresh case earlier that morning, leaving Spencer buried in boring paperwork.
It was around lunchtime when Spencer’s focus was interrupted by the familiar click of boots and a voice that sent his heart racing every time he heard it.
“Hey, genius,” you called, holding up a brown paper bag. “Thought you might want something that doesn’t taste like printer ink for lunch.”
Spencer’s head shot up, his lips curving into a soft smile as he took you in—blue hair tied up messily, tattoos peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your dark flannel, ripped black jeans, and those scuffed combat boots you refused to part with. You looked effortlessly cool, as always.
“Y/N,” he said, standing up to greet you. “You didn’t have to do that!” Spencer said, kissing your lips softly.
You smirked. “Please, you’d survive on coffee and air if I didn’t step in.”
The interaction caught the attention of several team members. JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing glances, while Morgan shot Spencer a teasing grin. “Ah, the queen herself. You spoil him too much, Y/N.”
“Somebody’s gotta,” you shot back playfully, setting the bag on Spencer’s desk. “The man doesn’t even own a proper umbrella.”
“I do!” Spencer said defensively.
“That's not a travel-sized shower curtain?” you teased, earning a round of laughter from the nearby agents.
Everything was lighthearted and fine, until the new recruit, Agent Carter, sauntered over. Carter had been with the team for about two weeks, and while he was competent in the field, people whispered around about him being a complete asshole.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his tone clipped, eyes raking over your appearance with clear disdain.
You raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just here to see my boyfriend.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Boyfriend? Here? You sure you’re not lost? You don’t exactly scream ‘i have a boyfriend.’” His tone was biting, with a sneer. “More like… a dealer who stumbled in from a punk concert.”
You stared at him for a beat, processing his words. “Wow,” you said flatly. “You’re bold for someone who looks like he barely passed the academy fitness test.”
“Who’s this?” Carter asked, nodding toward you with a smirk that made your skin crawl.
“This is Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice friendly but firm. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Carter’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “No way. Didn’t peg you for the type, Reid.” You frowned but stayed quiet, observing the situation.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Spencer asked, his posture tensing slightly.
Carter shrugged, his tone casual but dripping with condescension. “I mean, no offense, but she kinda looks like… I don’t know, a lesbian junkie or something.”
The room went silent. JJ’s jaw dropped, Morgan stood up straighter, and Garcia’s eyes widened like saucers. Spencer’s face hardened—a rare sight, but one that immediately made everyone uncomfortable.
“That’s incredibly disrespectful,” Spencer said, his voice colder than anyone had ever heard it. “Y/N has a PhD in chemistry and is one of the smartest people I know.”
Carter laughed, clearly not reading the room. “Sure, she’s smart. But, come on, man. Look at her. She’s wearing more tattoos than clothes-”
“Excuse me?” you said, stepping forward before Spencer could react. Your tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, one that Spencer learned to identify quite early in your relationship. You were pissed.
The recruit scoffed, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. “I’m just saying, you don’t look the part. In fact—” He glanced at Spencer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. “—you kind of look like the man in the relationship. If that’s what we’re calling it.”
The bullpen went silent. A few heads turned, agents pausing mid-task to watch the scene unfold. Spencer’s cheeks flushed red, but before he could step in, you beat him to it.
You laughed—low, sharp, and dangerous. “Wow,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s the best you’ve got? I look like a man? Cute. Here’s the thing, son: there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian, and I don’t give a single damn what you or anyone else thinks I look like. I didn’t show up here for your approval, and I sure as hell don’t need it.”
You stepped even closer, your boots nearly touching his. The recruit visibly stiffened, his confidence faltering as you stared him down.
“Y/N,” Spencer called out, his voice a mix of warning and pleading.
You ignored him, stepping closer to the recruit with a calm tone that somehow made you more intimidating. “But let’s make one thing crystal clear,” you continued, your voice dropping to a near growl. “If you ever disrespect me or Spencer again, I’ll make sure you regret it. And not in a fun, HR-friendly way.”
The recruit opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked to Spencer for support, but Spencer just stood there, arms crossed, letting you handle it.
“Got it?” you asked, patting Carter’s shoulders. Your tone was sweet but with an edge sharp enough to cut glass.
The recruit nodded stiffly, clearly out of his depth.
“Good,” you said, stepping back. You looked at Spencer as if nothing had happened, flashing him a casual smile. “There you go, Penny. I hope you enjoy your lunch.”
Spencer blinked, torn between mortification and admiration. “Uh, thanks,” he said, taking the bag.
As you turned to leave, you shot the recruit one last look. “Oh, and FYI,” you added, smirking. “If I was the man in the relationship, you’d be begging me to fuck you. Think about that.”
The bullpen erupted in quiet murmurs as you walked out, leaving the recruit red-faced and stunned.
Spencer sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair. The team slowly gathered around him, grinning.
“Dude,” Morgan said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Your girl is savage.”
“Yeah,” JJ agreed, smirking. “How’d you land someone like her again?”
Spencer groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I have no idea,” he muttered.
---
Back at your shared apartment, whatever happened that day seemed like a distant memory. You were both curled up on the couch, freshly showered, with the muted hum of a playlist Spencer had made playing in the background. Spencer was lying with his head in your lap, legs stretched out along the cushions, while you twirled a strand of his long hair around your fingers.
A half-smoked cigarette rested in the ashtray on the coffee table, the faint smell of it lingering in the air. Spencer’s book was closed on his chest, his brown eyes tracing the tattoos on your arm gently.
“You know,” he said suddenly, his voice soft.
“Hm?” you hummed, looking down at him.
“I don’t understand why some people think you’re a lesbian.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the comment, then snorted. “Oh, yeah? That guy got in your head, huh?”
He shook his head quickly, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s just… I’ve been thinking about it. I mean, it doesn’t make sense. You’ve been with me for over five years. You’re—well, you’re you. You’re not exactly subtle about being with me. It’s not like you’re walking around holding a giant ‘I’m gay’ sign.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Babe, people are just dumb. I dress dark, I’ve got tattoos, and I don’t really scream ‘girlfriend of a genius FBI agent.’” You paused, smirking as you leaned down slightly. “Plus, you can’t lie—there’s a part of you that gets a little kick out of people being shocked I’m with you.”
His ears turned pink, and he looked away sheepishly. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, smiling.
You chuckled, brushing your thumb against his cheek, bringing his face towards you. “Look, I don’t blame them for getting the wrong idea. You’re my girl, after all.”
That caught him off guard. Spencer blinked up at you, a startled laugh escaping his lips. “Wait—what?”
“You heard me,” you said, leaning back smugly. “You’re my girl. Pretty, soft, and way too nice for your own good.”
“Pretty?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief but his smile growing. “I’m pretty now?”
“Oh, yeah,” you said, nodding firmly. “You’ve got that whole delicate, intellectual vibe going. Pretty as hell.”
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached up and poked your side, making you squirm. “Well, if I’m pretty, what does that make you?”
You shrugged, grinning. “The badass who gets to call you hers.”
Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, pulling you down into a kiss.
“And yet, you’re still here,” you teased against his lips.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he replied with his voice low.
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other, as the night stretched on. Pretty boy and his badass girlfriend, what a team, huh.
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lowkeyerror · 1 month ago
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Help With The Curriculum pt 2
Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Notes: Smut, strap, dry humping, choking, fingering, 2x use of daddy in non-sexually explicity context, dirty talk, lap-sitting, mentions of edging, mentions of exhibitionlism, mentions of overstimulation, Rio Vidal 😩
Summary: You sit in on one of Agatha’s lectures and enjoy some time with her during passing period... however that time with Agatha might have attracted the attention of someone else.
An: Not promising a fully fledged fic but ill keep posting parts of this until I lose interest. Also couldn't help but add Rio... eventual Rio x Agatha x Reader smut but idk if it'll just be one part or permanent in this fic 🙇‍♀️
Previous Part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist
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You end up spending Saturday and Sunday at Agatha’s. It wasn’t planned, but it was hard to leave. You already felt so comfortable with the woman. The only reason you found yourself back at home had to do with the papers you were supposed to grade Friday.
You spent most of your Monday grading the work. Images and thoughts of the other professor poked at the back of your mind, but you tried to stay focused. You figured that you could text her as a reward for finishing the grading.
Your phone dings as you’re on the final paper. You think about letting it wait, considering you’re almost done, but it dings again. The impulses get the better of you and you pick it up.
Agatha: I have an 8am tomorrow
Agatha: If you want to sit in on my lecture
You smile, knowing that you’d be in her classroom bright and early to watch her teach.
Y/n: I’ll be there
Agatha: Your class starts 15 after mine ends. It’d probably take you 5 mins to walk over…
Y/n: Probably, why?
Agatha: Well you said you wanted to fuck me in the lecture hall. You think you can get me off in 10 mins?
Y/n: I can do it in 5 ;-)
Agatha: We'll see about that professor
You now had a better reason to look forward to your Tuesday. After those messages you didn't have it in you to further grade the last assignment. You opted to just give that one lucky student an A.
For the rest of the day your mind wandered to how you were going to use those 5 minutes to get Agatha off. You couldn’t help but smile as dirty thoughts filled your head.
You’d be playing mind games from the second you stepped inside of her classroom. Your usual casual classroom attire was being quickly abandoned for something that better fit your title of professor. A grey 3-piece Herringbone suit. You wore your hair back, out of your face.
You had a pocket chain clipped to your pants, while a watch sat on your wrist. There was something special packed in your pants that you planned on using to tease the other professor.
You filed into her classroom with the other students. Opposite to her approach in your classroom, you sat in the back corner of her lecture hall. You wanted her to see you. With your legs spread open and a hand tentatively resting high up on your thigh.
Your other hand held up your head as you locked your eyes on her. When her eyes met yours, you could see them narrow at your appearance. You sent her a polite smile, which you could tell she was fighting not to return.
She briefly welcomed her students back and then  immediately got into the lecture. There was an assertive flip to her character that intrigued you. You could get lost in her tone of speaking. She hardly looked at you, but when she did, you were always readjusting the crotch of your pants.
“Your exam is tomorrow; multiple choice and 3 short answer questions. All of the answers should be in your notes, I’d study them thoroughly. You are dismissed.”
Her classroom cleared much faster than yours had the previous Friday. You had waited for the last student to leave before rising from your seat. You took your time locking the doors to the room, before heading down to Agatha.
You could tell that she had a sly remark on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t get a chance to speak as your lips attacked hers. You were rough as you kissed her, complete disregard for pleasantries.
You pressed her up against the desk. Enough to where she could feel the strap through your pants, she moaned as you slowly rocked your hips. No words were necessary, only the sounds of your breathing.
Your hand reached around her front, eager to plunge into her wetness. Once you make it past her waistband, you have to hold yourself back from taking her bottoms completely off. Her panties are ruined.
“Fuck, I made you this wet, just sitting there? You saw my hand on this big fake cock, and couldn’t help but make a mess of yourself, professor?”
She throws her head back as you rub her clit, “Look so sexy baby, I want you inside me.”
You chuckle darkly into her ear, “All weekend wasn’t enough huh? You just want me to fill you up every day.”
You keep your thumb on her clit and easily push 2 fingers inside of her. Your free hand loops around to rest on her neck. She tilts her head back to be able to meet your lips. You can feel her clenching around your fingers already.
“Desperate fucking slut, so needy for me. I’d take you like this for hours, till that puddle in your panties becomes a fucking ocean. Make you cum enough to coat my strap in your juices. Have your filthy mouth suck it off, just to spread you open and shove it in that hungry hole. The way you’re sucking up my fingers, fuck I know you need my cock buried inside of you.”
She begins to pant, “I want it. I want your cock, please. Please I’ll do anything, just let me have it.”
You pout, “Aww we don’t have time right now Aggie. I need you to cum on fingers so I can shove them in your mouth and go teach my class.”
She whines and starts moving with your fingers, “Y/n.”
You kiss her forehead, “I know baby, I know. You have to be good for me. Do what I say and I’ll make it worth your while, professor.”
You squeeze her throat a little tighter and pick up the pace with your fingers. Agatha lets out a shrill scream, causing you to cover her mouth quickly. You feel her slump against you, causing you to slow your pace before fully removing your fingers from her.
Before you can move away from her, she grabs your wrist, guiding your fingers into her mouth. She allows the tips to hit the back of her throat while keeping eye contact with you.
Your fingers fall out of her mouth and you delicately grab her by the chin. You peck her lips sweetly.
“You owe me one hell of a reward, Professor L/n,” she mumbles.
Her hand trails down the front of your suit pants until she finds what she’s looking for. She squeezes the toy lightly, palming it with her hand.
“I keep my promises, Professor Harkness. I still have a few to make good on, but in the meantime, I have a lecture to teach,” you wink at her.
She steals on last kiss from you, “Don’t be late.”
Agatha playfully smacks your ass when you turn around and you laugh at her antics. As you reach the exit of her classroom you turn back for a second, “Oh, and Professor Harkness. I really enjoyed your lesson.”
You leave her lecture room with a smile on your face. On the way to your own class, you find yourself walking in stride with fellow history professor, Rio Vidal.
“You’re getting awfully cozy with Professor Harkness.”
You shrug, “She needed some help with the curriculum, wanted a fresh new perspective.”
The brown eyed woman hums, “Hmm, I’ve never known her to ask for help.”
“Well, maybe you just don’t have much help to offer her these days,” you match her tone.
“I heard she sat in on your lecture, mind if I do the same?” She disregards your last statement.
Again you shrug, “Feel free, Professor Vidal.”
You feel her gaze trail up your side profile. It lingers on your pants, and you have to stop yourself from readjusting.
“You can call me Rio.”
“Y/n,” you say curtly.
Once at your classroom, you already have a few students waiting outside. You let them in and head to the front of the class. Rio takes a seat in the front corner of the lecture.
As promised before break you spend the whole class reviewing. The last thing you do is hand out the assignments you graded yesterday. You sit at your desk, eyes drifting over to Rio.
“Well, I can see now why everyone is so enticed by you. You’re charming, smart, and well-dressed. No wonder students and professors alike are always muttering about you,” she walks to stand in front of your desk.
Your face heats under her gaze, “I’m hearing about my  reputation more now than ever before.”
She stares at you like she could devour you. Her hands rest wide on your desk and her head drops to look at you.
“I don’t think she could handle what you have to offer, cupcake,” Rio leans into the desk.
“What are you talking about?” You sit back straight in your chair, keeping a calm attitude.
“Oh, now you want to play dumb professor,” she leans in further to whisper in your ear, “I heard you two early. Trust me kid, I know what Agatha sounds like. There’s only one reason I’d hear her making those kind of noises.”
“Jealous or something?”
She smiles widely shaking her head. She walks around to the side of the desk, “Not of you. Like I said, I’m very familiar with Agatha. I’m less familiar with you."
She gets on her knees and crawls over to you. Her hands wrap around your leg to rest on your knees, “ I need to know you better.”
“Don’t even think about it Vidal,” you scoot back away from her.
“I'd listen to her if I were you, Rio,” Agatha’s voice echoes across the room.
Rio only smirks and stand to her feet, “Hello, my love. Long time, no chat.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way,” Agatha quickly makes her way to the desk. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stares at Rio.
The brown eyed woman frowns, “How long are we going to play this game, Agatha?”
“Play time is over Rio” Agatha says.
Rio shakes her head, “You fucking some hot, younger, girl, doesn't mean shit. She only fucked you as a rebound Y/n.”
“You’re only saying that because you wished you fucked her first,” Agatha shoots back at Rio.
“If I had 5 minutes alone with her, she would’ve taken me over the desk,” Rio glares at Agatha.
“You always did have a thing for sloppy seconds,” Agatha returns.
“I take it you two have a past,” you interject.
“Present, and a future, cupcake,” Rio winks at you.
You stand up, “I’m not your cupcake, Professor Vidal. I only plan on saying this one time, so I hope you’re a good listener. I. Don’t. Like. Sharing.”
“Oooo daddy runs a little hot I see,” Rio teases you.
You can feel your jaw twitch, “You’re a fucking brat.”
Rio bats her eyelashes at you, ���You going to tame me, daddy?”
Agatha cuts in her tone stern, “Rio, leave now.”
Rio whines the blue-eyed woman’s name, “Agatha.”
“Out,” Agatha reinforces.
The woman huffs out an air of irritation before leaving the classroom.
“You know I figured you hooked up with Professor Vidal, but I didn’t picture her being such a brat,” you sit back down when you address Agatha.
The woman sits in your lap, facing you. Her hands play with the hairs on the back of your neck. She can feel the dildo pressing against her, but refrains from moving.
“She’s untamable,” Agatha says dismissively.
You scoff, “No one is untamable.”
Agatha rolls her eyes, “Trust me, Rio lives for the thrill of the punishment.”
“You punish her a lot?”
“I suppose I did,” Agatha meets your eyes.
“Tell me about it.”
Your hands found purchase on her hips. You guided her slowly back and forth across the length of the strap in your pants.
“One time I made go out with a toy inside of her and no panties. I spanked her for every wet spot she left when she was sitting,” Agatha says and you guide her a little faster.
“More.”
“I slapped her cunt until it was nice and tender and then I made her bounce on my strap until she came 7 times.”
You press Agatha down firmer on you, “Another.”
You were pulsing at the thought of Agatha dominating Professor Vidal. Her bratty attitude had upset you, but it had also turned you on. You wish you could put her in her place.
“I edged her for 2 hours until she nearly collapsed after squirting harder than I've ever seen anyone squirt in my life. Seeing her face down in her own juices, eyes fluttering, tongue out trying to taste herself on the floor. God, that was my favorite.”
You groan wanting more than fuck Agatha right here on your desk. She’s about to cum again while haven't came once today. It feels you are torturing yourself.
It's as if Agatha had read your thoughts. She sticks on of her hands down your pants. She slips it past the harness to feel your clit.
“You want to cum with me, professor,” Agatha smirks as she rubs your clit.
“Fuck yes,” you moan, laying your head on her chest.
It didn't take much more for you to cum together. Your breath was ragged, and your hunger for each other was only partially satiated.
“Listen up, ‘Mrs. I don’t like sharing’ if you’re going to try to become brat tamer of the year, you aren’t doing it without me,” Agatha says placing a kiss on your cheek.
She attempts to get up, but you hold her place, “Fine, when she comes to see you,  call me. I want us both to have fun with her.”
Agatha laughs, “She’s irritating in the way you just want to fuck it out of her, isn’t she?”
You nod, “But you can’t let her know that. Her ego is too big, that’s why she’s bratty now.”
Agatha agrees with you, “Good point, I have to go teach my next class, but I’ll see you tonight. Your place, for my reward.”
She kisses you sweetly, once more  before exiting your classroom.
Now you had two things on your mind. Agatha’s reward and your opportunity to punish Rio. Both things that you were very much looking forward too.
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gghostwriter · 5 months ago
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hi dear author! how are you?
I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3
Thank you!!
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist
Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid
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The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did. 
But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above. 
Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.
———
Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction. 
“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”
“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—” 
The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.
“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”
A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”
The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—
“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”
Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner. 
“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.
“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”
He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”
With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.
Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you. 
When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 
He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.
He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.
“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.
The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.
Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”
Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”
He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”
“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”
Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”
“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.
 “Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.
Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”
“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.” 
His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—” 
Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”
Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said. 
“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.
The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.” 
Silence. 
“I-I’m what?!” 
The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”
The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?” 
You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!” 
He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.” 
You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?” 
He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father. 
You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel— 
“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—” 
He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings. 
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”
You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”
He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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colleendoran · 2 years ago
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How Do I Do Stuff
The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.
I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.
Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.
I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.
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I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.
This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.
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I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.
This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.
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But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.
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He's pretty, too.
If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.
Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.
Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.
Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.
However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.
Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.
The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.
Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.
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I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.
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While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.
So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.
If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.
Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.
Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.
So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.
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magical-reid · 19 days ago
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Written in the Margins
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Perspective: Third person limited (from Spencer’s perspective)
Timeline: Early Season 7
Word Count: 1.2 K
Summary: Spencer Reid teams up with you, a sharp and insightful local researcher, to help the BAU solve a series of murders staged like literary tragedies in Glenhaven, New York. As the investigation progresses, an undeniable connection forms between you two, leading to a blossoming relationship that continues even after the case is closed.
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The town of Glenhaven was a small, tight-knit community nestled in the hills of upstate New York, where Victorian homes lined the streets like forgotten characters in a half-finished novel. The BAU had been called in after three murders, each victim a young woman in her twenties, staged like they’d stepped out of a literary tragedy. Notes were left behind at each scene—typewritten passages pulled from classic novels, arranged with the unsub’s unnerving precision.
When Spencer Reid entered the precinct, he wasn’t expecting much from the local resources—just the usual flurry of files, hastily snapped crime scene photos, and an overwhelmed detective in desperate need of federal help. He certainly wasn’t expecting you.
You were leaning over a table, a thick stack of notes in front of you, scribbling furiously with an ink-stained hand. Dressed casually but confidently, you looked thoroughly out of place in the harsh fluorescent light of the precinct. The lead detective, Harper, stood over you, looking exasperated.
“Miss Y/L/N, I’ve told you before. You’re not part of this investigation,” Harper said, his tone clipped.
“Then maybe you should stop using my research,” you shot back, flipping through your notes before shoving a page toward him. “See this? This isn’t just a random Steinbeck quote. It’s a clue. A trail. Your unsub isn’t quoting these lines because they’re creepy; he’s building something.”
Detective Harper sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, just as Spencer approached.
“Building what?” Spencer asked. His voice was calm, curious.
You turned toward him, your brow furrowing slightly as you assessed him, clearly wondering if he’d take you seriously. Spencer didn’t miss the faint trace of ink on your jaw, like you’d been chewing on your pen while deep in thought.
“A narrative,” you said, holding his gaze. “He’s telling a story—one murder at a time.”
Spencer hadn’t meant to let you stick around. Truly. But as the hours ticked by, it became clear that you weren’t just some amateur with a theory. Your insights were sharp, your connections logical, and you noticed things even the BAU team hadn’t picked up on.
“We’ve been approaching this like he’s pulling quotes at random,” you said later that day, pacing as you spoke. “But look here. These aren’t just literary excerpts—they’re thematic. Each one is about doors. Opening them, closing them, walking through them.”
You turned to Spencer, eyes alight with determination. “If he’s fixated on this metaphor, maybe the locations of the murders are symbolic, too. The first was near a locked gate. The second, an abandoned church. The third…”
“A condemned theater,” Spencer finished, his mind racing alongside yours. “He’s choosing places where doors—physical or metaphorical—are significant.”
The way you grinned at him in that moment was almost enough to make him forget about the case entirely.
“You’re not so bad for an academic,” you teased, crossing your arms.
Spencer felt his cheeks warm, but he refused to look away. “And you’re not so bad for a…civilian,” he countered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The tension between you and Spencer only grew as the investigation continued. Every time your fingers brushed while passing notes, every time your eyes lingered a little too long on his, the air between you seemed to hum with unspoken possibilities.
It didn’t help that the team noticed.
“So,” Morgan said one morning, leaning against the precinct’s kitchenette counter while Spencer poured himself a cup of coffee. “You and the writer seem to be getting along.”
“We’re collaborating,” Spencer said quickly, though the flush on his neck betrayed him.
“Uh-huh,” Morgan said, smirking. “And what exactly were you collaborating on last night when I walked in and saw you both leaning over the same file, about an inch away from each other’s faces?”
Spencer didn’t dignify that with a response.
It was late on the second night of the case when the two of you ended up alone in the precinct’s conference room. The rest of the team had gone to get some sleep, but Spencer, as always, was restless, and you seemed equally unwilling to leave the work unfinished.
“You’re staring,” you said softly, not looking up from the sheet of notes in front of you.
“I’m not,” Spencer replied, too quickly.
You raised an eyebrow, finally meeting his gaze. “Yes, you are.”
Spencer hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he scrambled for a reply. “I was…thinking.”
“About?”
The truth was, he had been thinking—about the way you chewed your lip when you were concentrating, the way your laugh was soft but genuine, the way your mind worked with such creativity that it left him breathless. But he couldn’t say any of that.
“About the case,” he lied.
You tilted your head, unconvinced. “Sure you were.”
The silence stretched between you, charged and electric, until you finally spoke again, your voice quieter this time.
“You’re not like I expected.”
Spencer blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, leaning back in your chair. “You’re this genius profiler, right? I thought you’d be…I don’t know. Intimidating. Detached. But you’re—”
“Awkward?” Spencer supplied, the corner of his mouth quirking upward.
“I was going to say kind,” you corrected, your tone soft.
For a moment, Spencer didn’t know what to say. The look in your eyes—warm, curious, and slightly vulnerable—made his heart trip over itself.
“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
When the case finally broke, it was your insight that led them to the unsub’s lair—an abandoned library on the edge of town.
Spencer had insisted you stay behind when they moved in to apprehend him, but even after the unsub was in custody, Spencer’s thoughts kept drifting back to you. When he returned to the precinct to find you pacing the room, your hands clenched tightly around your notebook, the relief on your face when you saw him nearly knocked the air from his lungs.
“You’re okay,” you said, rushing toward him.
“I’m okay,” he assured you, his voice gentle.
Before he could stop himself, Spencer reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm—a fleeting touch, but one that sent a shiver down his spine.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “We wouldn’t have solved this without you.”
You smiled, but there was a flicker of something deeper in your eyes—something unspoken but unmistakable. “You’re welcome.”
Epilogue
Weeks later, Spencer was still thinking about you. He’d memorized the note you left for him, tucked inside a copy of your newest manuscript:
For Dr. Spencer Reid—proof that the best stories are written together.
He hadn’t planned to reach out, but when his phone buzzed with a text from you one evening, his heart skipped a beat.
So…dinner?
His reply was immediate.
Absolutely.
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simplyanjuta · 4 months ago
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Transferring animations between rigs (e.g. adult to child)
The steps below describe how to transfer an animation from an adult rig to a child rig but the method should be applicable for any transfer between human rigs.
However, I haven't tested other constellations. Let me know if you have any other tips, suggestions, corrections or run into any issues.
Many thanks to thepancake1 for helping figuring out the details that are not obvious at all 💛
I posted this little guide in Creator Musings for someone wondering about it but sharing it here as well.
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Step 1)
Export the adult sim animation you want to transfer (=your source) to Blender.
Open a blend file with a child rig (=your target).
Append the adult rig with the animation to the child rig in Blender (File > Append > Select the blend file > folder "Object" > select rig and mesh there)
Select the animation from the adult rig for the child rig (select the child rig in the Outliner menu > select the scene tab in the properties panel below > in "S4S AnimationTools" select the adult animation as the "active animation")
This will get the job mostly done, but the animation will be offset and jumping around, as you see below. To correct for that you will need to set up several constraints as described in step 2.
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Step 2)
As you see below the height of the ROOT_bind of the adult sim and child sim differ by about a factor of 0,7:
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You can check the exact location in edit mode:
The ROOT_bind of the child rig is located at 0.6920, the ROOT_bind of the adult rig at 1.0112 on the Z axis, which gives a factor of 0.6920/1.0112=0.6843354430379747
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With that information you now need to do the following (see image below for comparison, I also uploaded my blend file with the set up here):
In the Dope Sheet menu, select "Action Editor" and press "New Action" there to make a copy of the selected animation.
In the Dope Sheet Summary uncheck ROOT_bind (thus disabling the animation on the root bind for the child rig). Update/Correction: However, the rotation channels need to stay enabled (this only matters if the ROOT_bind is rotated in an animation). The setting should look like this:
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In the Transform menu type in -0,6920 on the X axis for ROOT_bind (thus resetting its position to 0 in the animation; can't properly explain why X axis is chosen here instead of Y but it has sth to do with how local rotations of a bone are determined according to pancake)
Create a "Copy Location" constraint for ROOT_bind of the child rig targetting it to the ROOT_bind of the adult rig (this is done in the Properties panel > Bone Constraints), set Influence to 0.6843354430379747 (factor calculated above), deselect "Z"
Create a second "Copy Location" constraint for ROOT_bind in the same way but this time deselect "X" and "Y" and instead select "Z" and check "Offset".
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The animation will now play as expected:
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Step 3)
All you need to do now is bake the animation (thus applying all the constraints you set up). Select Pose > Animation > "Bake Action...", then check "Visual Keying" and "Clear Constraints" in the pop up. The animation will now work stand alone and you can delete the adult rig.
Alternatively, if you use Pancakes animation tools, you just need to export the clips, the constraints will be applied automatically.
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domm1etae · 2 months ago
Note
Hello!! If requests are still open can I ask for a Seonghwa/reader office fic? Ever since I've found that one office asmr video he did I can't stop thinking about it 😭
Overtime Attraction
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seonghwa x reader
oneshot | mdni
2.5k
Y/N’s strict, no-nonsense boss Seonghwa calls them in for a late-night “work session” that quickly turns into way more than just project revisions
nsfw tags under
readers gender not specif. , top seonghwa, boss/employee, workplace tension, power dynamics, praise kink, slow burn, buildup, desk sex, possessive seonghwa, tension release, passionate make-out, teasing, thigh touching, mutual pining, eye contact, unguarded moments, lap straddling, finger teasing, deep kissing, after-hours intimacy, needy touches
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Y/N hurried down the marble hallway, heels clicking in sync with the beat of the clock ticking on the wall. It was 8:59, and every second mattered when it came to Park Seonghwa. As their boss, he was notorious for his unwavering punctuality and no-nonsense attitude. Nothing frustrated him more than tardiness, and Y/N had been on the receiving end of his reprimands enough times to know they didn’t want to push his patience any further.
Sliding into their desk just as the clock struck nine, Y/N let out a small sigh of relief. But the relief was short-lived. Seonghwa’s office door opened, and he stepped out with his usual commanding presence. He scanned the room, his sharp gaze briefly landing on Y/N, and for a moment, they could feel their pulse race.
“Team meeting in the conference room. Now,” he announced, his tone clipped and direct. No unnecessary pleasantries. Just business as always.
Y/N grabbed their notebook, gathering themselves before following him. As they settled into their usual seat, they couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves. This project was crucial, and Seonghwa had been working them all hard to ensure everything went perfectly. His expectations were high, and they didn’t want to be the one who let the team down.
Seonghwa took his seat at the head of the table, flipping through his notes with focused precision. He went over every aspect of the project, analyzing each detail and making it clear exactly what he wanted. His calm, authoritative tone filled the room, and Y/N found themselves hyper-aware of every word, jotting down notes to ensure they wouldn’t miss a thing. But despite their efforts, Seonghwa’s expression remained as unreadable as ever.
At the end of the meeting, as everyone else began packing up to leave, Seonghwa’s gaze fell on Y/N. He raised an eyebrow, his face as composed as always.
“Y/N, stay behind a moment.”
Y/N felt their stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and dread. Had they made a mistake? They waited as the room emptied, glancing up at Seonghwa as he watched everyone file out. Once the door closed, he leaned back, his fingers steepled in thought.
“There’s a section in your report from last night that has some errors,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “Some critical data was left out. I’ll need to go over it with you later to make sure it’s fixed before tomorrow.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of embarrassment. They’d spent hours on that report, meticulously checking each line, but evidently, it hadn’t been enough to meet his standards. “Of course, sir. I’m really sorry about the oversight—I thought I’d gotten everything.”
Seonghwa’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “I know you worked hard, and I appreciate the effort. But my standards are high for a reason.” He glanced at his watch. “I have meetings the rest of the day, so we’ll handle this tonight after hours. Make sure you’re available.”
Y/N’s heart skipped at the idea of being alone in the office with Seonghwa, especially given the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks. There was something about him—his intense focus, his precision—that made it hard not to be captivated by him. And though they’d never admit it, the idea of a private meeting with him was thrilling.
“Understood,” they replied, maintaining their composure despite the rush of anticipation.
Throughout the day, Y/N worked tirelessly to finish other tasks while nervously glancing at the clock. The office gradually emptied, and by 7 PM, they and Seonghwa were the only ones left. As the last few coworkers waved goodbye, Seonghwa finally emerged from his office, his expression as composed as ever.
“Y/N,” he called, gesturing for them to follow him. They stood up, clutching their notes and laptop, and walked into his office, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement settle over them as he closed the door behind them.
He sat down across from them, pulling up the document on his computer. “Let’s start from the top,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact as he scanned through the lines. They worked through the report, his voice low and steady as he pointed out each section that needed correction.
But as the minutes ticked by, the air between them grew more charged. Every time his hand brushed over the mouse, or his shoulder accidentally brushed theirs, Y/N felt their heart skip a beat. His closeness was almost dizzying, and the usual stoic, unbreakable mask he wore seemed to falter slightly as they moved through the corrections together.
At one point, as they both reached for the same section on the screen, their hands met, lingering longer than necessary. Y/N looked up, catching the flicker of something deeper in his gaze—a hint of warmth, of something that wasn’t entirely professional. His fingers lingered on theirs, and he didn’t pull away.
Seonghwa cleared his throat, finally releasing their hand. But his gaze remained intense, locked on them with an unreadable expression. “Y/N,” he began, his voice lower than before, carrying a hint of vulnerability. “I… don’t usually let things like this happen.”
Y/N’s heart pounded. “Me neither,” they whispered, barely able to find their voice. There was something raw in his expression, something they hadn’t seen before. And in that moment, the weight of his controlled, disciplined exterior finally broke.
He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from their face. “You’ve been working so hard,” he murmured, his fingers grazing their cheek with surprising tenderness. “But I think there’s been something between us for a while now.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, and before they could respond, he closed the distance between them, his lips brushing softly against theirs. The kiss was gentle at first, almost cautious, as if testing the waters. But as they melted into his touch, his grip on their waist tightened, pulling them closer. His strict, measured demeanor fell away, replaced by a passion that left them breathless.
Seonghwa lifted them onto his desk, his hands exploring with a newfound freedom that left them shivering. He whispered praise, his words quiet and reverent, as if he were savoring each moment. “I’ve wanted this for longer than I should admit,” he murmured against their skin, his voice thick with desire.
Y/N wrapped their arms around his neck, pulling him closer, their own restraint slipping away. The air was charged, heavy with everything unspoken between them.
Seonghwa’s lips brushed against Y/N’s, deepening the kiss as his hands found their waist, pulling them flush against him. Y/N’s legs shifted, one knee rising as they positioned themselves on his lap, their skirt hiking up as they straddled him. A low sound rumbled from his chest, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine as his fingers traced circles on their thighs.
“Y/N…” Seonghwa’s breath ghosted over their lips, his voice thick with a want he had carefully kept buried until now. “You… have no idea…”
Y/N’s fingers traced up to his tie, tugging it slightly, silently urging him closer. He let out a soft groan, pressing his hips forward so they could feel the evidence of his own need. His hands traveled up their sides, grazing over the fabric of their blouse, his touch just shy of indulgent.
“More,” Y/N whispered, the word escaping them in a needy breath. They felt their pulse quicken as his hands finally traveled to cup their face, his thumb brushing softly over their bottom lip before trailing down, brushing over the sensitive spot at the base of their neck.
A sly smile played on Seonghwa’s lips as he watched their reactions, reveling in every hitch of their breath and the faint flush on their cheeks. “Oh, you want more?” His voice held a note of control, deep and rich, as if he was savoring each moment of their unraveling.
“Yes…” they murmured, and he raised an eyebrow, his hands sliding back down to grip their waist firmly. They gasped softly as he lifted them onto his desk, his expression darkening as he took in the sight of them, legs spread just enough to reveal the hint of lace at the edge of their skirt.
He leaned in, capturing their lips again, a little rougher this time, his gloved hand reaching to cradle their cheek while his other hand trailed to their thigh, inching upward with a slow deliberateness. Each kiss became more intense, more consuming, until they felt dizzy with need. His thumb traced small circles on the bare skin just below the hem of their skirt, his lips moving to trail down their neck, nibbling softly as he went.
Y/N’s hands clutched the back of his blazer, pulling him close as he teased them, letting out a quiet whimper as his hand finally ventured to the edge of their underwear. “Seonghwa, please…”
He smiled against their skin, his breath warm as he whispered, “Shh, we’re not alone yet. Do you really want someone to hear?” But despite his caution, his thumb pressed into them through the fabric, earning a muffled gasp from Y/N as they bit their lip to keep quiet.
"Good. Just like that,” he murmured, his voice heavy with approval, as he toyed with them, keeping the touch just light enough to drive them wild with need. “Be good for me, and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
Unable to contain their need any longer, they pressed their hips up to meet his touch, their body aching for more as he continued to tease, his fingers tracing soft circles around their most sensitive spot, still separated by just a thin layer of fabric. His control, his restraint, was maddening, and he relished every second of watching them unravel under his touch.
With his other hand still steady on their cheek, he finally whispered against their lips, “Hold on to me, Y/N.”
Seonghwa’s voice was steady and sure, like he was holding the reins even as the world tilted beneath them both. Y/N’s pulse quickened, their hands clutching his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm line of his back. His words echoed in their mind—Hold on to me. They did as he commanded, wrapping their legs around his waist, drawing him closer still, as he continued his slow, torturous exploration.
His fingers traced the waistband of their underwear, skimming over their skin just enough to leave a tingling path. He maintained eye contact, a look of both mischief and fierce intent in his gaze, as if savoring the power he held in their shared secret, here, alone in his office after hours. Y/N was panting softly, struggling to keep quiet even as their restraint unraveled under his measured, relentless touch.
Seonghwa’s lips met the edge of their jawline, and he brushed his nose along their cheek, lingering by their ear. His whisper was barely audible, but it sent a shiver down their spine. “You’re so beautiful like this, Y/N,” he murmured. “So responsive… so ready for me.”
Y/N’s head tilted back, giving him access to the curve of their neck, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. His lips trailed down, placing open-mouthed kisses along their throat, teeth grazing just enough to leave a whisper of pressure before he soothed each spot with his tongue. His hand slid up their thigh, and this time, he didn’t stop at the edge of their underwear. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, finding their center, slick and warm with anticipation.
A shaky breath escaped Y/N as his fingers began to move, slow and sure, teasing and tracing over every sensitive spot he discovered. Y/N’s hands found his tie again, tugging at it reflexively as their head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as they lost themselves in the sensation. His touch was skilled, and the friction drove them to the brink, each movement adding fuel to the smoldering fire between them.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice low, a trace of roughness seeping into his usually controlled tone. Y/N’s gaze met his, and the intensity in his eyes made them feel as if they were laid bare, every inch of desire on display for him alone. He didn’t look away, his fingers moving with greater purpose now, watching every small gasp and whimper, reveling in the effect he had on them.
When he finally withdrew his hand, Y/N bit back a whine of protest, only to feel him shift them back on the desk, guiding them to lie back. The cold surface beneath was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from his body as he loomed over them, lips curved in a self-assured smirk.
“Be patient, Y/N,” he whispered as he leaned down, his hands tracing the curves of their body before he carefully unbuttoned their blouse, his touch gentle yet decisive. “We don’t want to rush this… not after all that time spent building up to it.”
With each article of clothing he removed, his gaze became more intense, drinking in the sight of them with an appreciative, possessive gleam. When they were finally bared before him, he let his hands roam, mapping every inch of them, his touch both comforting and electrifying.
His lips claimed theirs again, and this time, there was no restraint. His kiss was demanding, consuming, his hands gripping their hips as he settled between their legs. They could feel the hard press of him against their core, both of them beyond any semblance of control. His fingers laced with theirs as he aligned himself, pressing forward with an exquisite slowness that made them gasp. His forehead rested against theirs as he whispered, “You’re mine tonight, Y/N. Every part of you.”
With every thrust, his control slipped just a bit further, and he abandoned the careful restraint he had kept around his desire for so long. They clung to each other, their shared need overcoming any lingering hesitations, their breaths mingling in the heated silence of the empty office.
Each movement was a promise fulfilled, a long-held tension finally released, as he guided them to the brink, his voice a steady, grounding presence in their ear, murmuring words of praise and desire that left them trembling beneath him. And as they reached their peak together, Seonghwa’s name fell from Y/N’s lips in a breathless whisper, echoing into the quiet, marking the end of one kind of distance—and the beginning of something far more consuming.
They stayed close, breaths slowing as they held each other, still entangled on his desk. Seonghwa’s fingers gently traced along their arm, as if reluctant to let them go, even now. He smiled, soft and real, his usually sharp expression softened in a rare, unguarded moment.
“Tomorrow…” he began, a hint of amusement in his voice, “you might just have to stay late again.”
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x-junwrites-x · 5 months ago
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Miguel O’Hara x Reader
Pregnancy Announcement(slight angst)
Tw: slight angst, past character loss mention
_________________
Miguel pauses, looking up at you from the open files on the holographic screens in front of him.
“What do you mean…you’re pregnant?” He stammered, lips parted as he looked at you with empty eyes. His brow furrowed, searching your face as if you were joking.
You suddenly felt nervous at the sight, arms instinctually going to rest over your stomach.
“Uhm, yeah, I’m a little over two months.” You say, feeling your words catch in your throat at the sight of his pale face. “Miguel? I know we didn’t plan it, but I just hope…I’d like to keep it.” You wait a second, feeling the air become tense while waiting for him to say something. He just stepped back from the holograms, arms moving to cross over his chest.
“That’s why you were feeling sick.” He murmured, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. A scowl showed on his face. He almost looks constipated, a voice in your head offered unhelpfully.
“Miguel?” Your brow pinched, head beginning to swirl with thoughts of the worst scenarios. He could get angry, you knew that. You knew of his temper, along with his pentiant of throwing things in his tantrums. You resisted the urge to take a step back from him as he took a few short breaths, eyes suddenly looking down at the ground. He stood like a tower, unmoving and unbreakable. But if you looked closer, you could tell that the news was weighing on him in the way his shoulders sagged.
“Please…Miguel…could you say something? We can talk about this.” You tried, slowly reaching a hand out towards his crossed arms. He still wasn’t looking at you, seemingly trapped in his head with his own thoughts.
His crimson eyes snapped to your hand as it rested gently on his forearm. It almost looked like he was afraid.
“I…it caught me off guard.” He grunts out suddenly, unmoving from your touch despite his lack of eye contact. “Do you really want to keep it?” His voice sounded cold and clipped, making your hand retreat.
“Yes, but if you really don’t want to have it, we…we can end this here.” You said, voice finding strength as you buried your fingers into your top. He looked at you then, surprising you at the shine over them.
“Miguel, what’s going on?” You asked, worried lacing in your voice. He suppressed a shudder, moving forward suddenly towards you. You froze, surprised again as he suddenly wrapped you in a tight hug. Strong hands finding their way across your back, searching.
“It’s just,” He started quietly, voice sounding thick with emotion over your shoulder, “You know I had a daughter once before, yeah?”
You nod, teeth finding your bottom lip as you slowly realize where his head was at.
“Oh, Miguel.” You moved back from his hold slightly to look at him with sad eyes.
“I want you to keep it.” His crimson eyes gleamed in the light of his office, “I’m just…remembering what happened last time.” He cleared his throat.
Your hand found a way around his waist, bringing him closer to you. He dropped his head to the crown of yours, leaving a kiss in your hair.
“Nothing would make me happier.” His voice was gentle as he left another kiss on your head. “I’m just afraid.” You reach up to rest a hand over his cheek, giving him a sympathetic smile. A small and brave thing.
“We can take the leap together, it won’t be like last time. We have a whole spider society that has our backs if anything goes wrong.” I said lightly, voice dropping into something soft, “But seriously, I’d love to do this with you, only if you feel that you’re ready. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for you before, and I understand your apprehension now.”
He shook his head, hands moving to cover your arm over your stomach.
“No, I’m ready. For you, I can do anything.” He huffed, thumbs smoothing over the material of your top. “Gabriela will forever be in my heart and mind, but creating life with you…it’s all I could have dreamed of.”
You gave a teary laugh, moving to press your face into his neck as he curled around you.
“I love you, Miggy.” You whispered, feeling his arms wound tighter around you.
“And I you, mi corazon.”
298 notes · View notes
murfeelee · 7 days ago
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TW3 GoW File Dump!
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This set includes 22 items converted from God of War 2018, for your sims of the Spartan and/or Norse persuasion!
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Alfheim Light Crystal as Light (Floor | Wall)
Alfheim Tree (10k Polys)
Bifrost as Table Light
Coin Piles 3 | 4 (§10000, ANI Moneybag Script REQUIRED) (found in Hobbies/Skills)
Dragon Arc as Decor
Dragon Firepit (8k Polys)
Elf Statue (10k Polys)
Floor Panel as Rug
Leaves (Giant | Not So Giant)
Jotnar Shrines as Wardrobe (10k Polys) (SN EP REQUIRED)
Kratos Vase
Lemnos Juice as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)
Lemnos Wine as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)
Library Sconce (Wall Light)
Lyre as Guitar
Nornir Chest as Land Chest (IP EP REQUIRED) (found in Debug)
Rock Face as Wall Climbing (found in Hobbies/Skills)
Scroll Case as 2-Storey Bookcase (20k Polys)
Wall Ivy (10k polys)
And here are 9 far lazier items only inspired by GoW, not directly converted from it:
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EA's Double Doors RETEXTURED
EA's Ranch Stones Column RETEXTURED (PETS EP REQUIRED)
Elven Family Lock as Decor (Animated)
Decor Glass Crow (Wings Down | Wings Up)
Idunn Apple as WA EP Edible Morsel (GLOWS)
Light Bridge as Floor Light (use with glass floor rugs)
Tapestry as Wall Art
The Light (Outdoor Light)
Happy New Year, and enjoy!
Download zips (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare
Descriptions & pics under the cut:
Most of this stuff's pretty clear-cut, but I wanted to just explain a few quick things.
The Alfheim Light Crystals, Bifrost, Idunn Apple, and The Light all have Fullbright, so they always glow, even if you turn the lights off. (The Idunn Apple mesh is a wee too big for my liking, but oh well.)
Coin Piles 3 | 4 (§10,000, ANI Moneybag Script REQUIRED) (found in Hobbies/Skills)
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Shoutout to @thecardinalsims at MTS for helping me with these! 👍
Fully recolorable, these 2 coin piles cost 1 simoleon, but when your sims scoop them up, they get 10k! You're welcome! 🤑💰
Elven "Family" Lock as Decor (Animated)
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Fully recolorable. This was cloned from a clock, so the pieces turn as the big/little hands turn on EA's clocks. I've never actually caught it at the right time when all the pieces properly align, esp. since I use the Time Mod like crazy and never really know what time it is in-game.
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Giant/Not So Giant Leaves
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Fully recolorable, found under Plants. These leaves are HUGE, which is why I added a smaller version, cuz jfc. 😅
Jotnar Shrines as Wardrobe (10k Polys) (SN EP REQUIRED)
I apologize in advance for these. I don't really intend for them to be used as EA dressers--I just wanted something with open/closed door animations (so alas, I also had to squeeze the mesh down to fit EA's dimensions). But by god these are dumb AF if your sim actually tries to rifle around inside for clothes (which I ofc removed)--
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--or Aesir forbid, they actually enter it to hide/portal travel to Narnia/woohoo. 😬 There is NOTHING on the other side, so your sim WILL be seen floating like a doofus behind the mesh (through the walls).
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Anyways, if you pause your game during the .5 seconds that the doors are ever open, you'll be graced with all the effing hard work I went through to add as many Jotnar panel variations as possible:
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In order: Bergelmir, Hrungnir, Jormungandr, Skadi, Skoll & Hati, Starkadr, Surtr, Thrym, Tyr1, Tyr2, Ymir (sorry, no Groa U_U).
Lemnos Juice/Wine as Drinkable Beverage (ARSIL MOD REQUIRED)
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The juice is regular kid-friendly juice, but the wine is strong alcohol only for adults (*cough* Kratos wtf were you thinking giving your kid 1000yr old alcohol to drink, someone call CPS on this fool! *cough*). So now your Spartan sims of all ages can safely & responsibly enjoy sippin on gin & juice~! 🥂 As always, the mesh clipping into their faces is out of control, but oh well.
Lyre as Guitar
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Fully recolorable variation included. NOT a fan of where the fingers sit (esp. for kids), but OH WELL.
Nornir Chest as Land Chest (IP EP REQUIRED) (found in Debug)
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Fully recolorable variation included. For some strange reason, I couldn't clone the WA EP chests (which I prefer), but thank goodness IP has a land chest I could use instead. (IIRC you can set it with all kinds of treasures with testingcheatsenabled true and/or Nraas' DebugEnabler or something, IDER.)
Rock Face as Wall Climbing (found in Hobbies/Skills)
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This is based on the rock climbing station at the EA Store, but you DON'T need it for this one to work!
Comes in different fully recolorable variations, with/without Faye's "Yellow Paint" guiding the way.
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Scroll Case as 2-Storey Bookcase (20k Polys)
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Fully recolorable variation included. Yes. I know. The polys are insane. I decimated as many as I could, but AAA games are just so effing high poly. U_U
And that's that!
Happy New Year, and enjoy!
Download zips (package files): Mediafire | SimFileShare
75 notes · View notes
simp-ly-writes · 1 year ago
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Lasting Pictures: Up and Under (pt.2)
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Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader
Summary: Signing the papers was one thing, actually going back and doing the work was another. Memories come hurling back at you as you try and navigate this new lifestyle while getting to know the members of your new task force- some warm up quicker to you than others but are your trials all for nothing? Or maybe, just maybe this new start has other possibilities for you as well....
Warnings: 4952 words, Slow burn, heavy imagery of anxiety attack and PTSD, descriptions of blood and swearing.
A/N: Hey ya'll thank you all so much for all the love on the first post, weird to see so many people liking my shitty writing. Anyways! todays chapter is dedicated to my fellow stranger @cosychick who made this chapter possible (TYSM again, seriously). On another note... I may have written a lot again... and have an outline for many more chapters... hope you guys enjoy this next part! let me know what you think~
Masterlist | Taglist | edited.
Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist
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The cheers surrounding the room are soon put to an end as the boys soon get ordered to return back to their duties on base as you and Gabby stay behind with Laswell. She opens your file on the table, flipping towards the back as she comments on your years of leave from the military. Your task force had all been promoted within the ranks and some were found less on field and more in strategy. You smiled at this newfound information, as it slightly fell when Laswell said how poorly they took your leave and lack of communication afterwards while tailing off on a few names that have you blinking your eyes quickly.
The room falling quiet once more, Gabby grasps your hand in her own- rubbing small circles into the back of it in an effort to comfort you. You squeeze it twice in response; awaiting Laswell to continue her commentary as a knock can be heard coming from the door, Price enters then closes it behind himself as he takes his seat back beside Laswell with his own paperwork in hand and places it on the table. He motions with a flick of his wrist for you guys to continue as he grabs for a pair of glasses and takes the lid of a pen off; beginning to flip through the sheets, signing every few pages while referencing others. Laswell continues to speak while opening a second file with your polaroid clipped to the front. 
“Has your body fully healed from the incident?”
“Yes, ma’am”
“Do you still take medication for it or any other symptoms you have experienced as a result?”
“Yes I do”
Laswell hums in response, flickering to the next page as you lightly sigh in relief and Gabby comments, “May I speak freely?”
“You may”
“They have made a full recovery, I made sure of it before contacting them…” Gabby looks over at you, happiness is found in her squished cheeks from smiling so brightly as she drops your hand to reach over the table for your papers, “...I recommend still going through with the fitness regulation test for formal qualities- but they would pass easily nonetheless.”
Price decides to lift his head and joins the conversation once more, “some practice missions with 141 before sending directly to the field would be of value to us all as well. Time is limited- I know-”
You smile slightly at his addition, nodding your head in agreement before finishing his sentence, “but a little team building never hurt nobody” you tease lightly back as John matches your smile before returning back to the work at hand. Gabby leans over, clearing her throat loudly to whisper in your ear, “So what type of team building do you have planned~?” 
Swatting her away while covering your cheeks from your blush, John chuckles to himself as you shrink into your sweater, cursing Gabby mentally as Laswell gives you all a tisk with a small smile gracing its way across her features; her tone lightening. 
“You will get along great with the team, Dice, from what I read and see here today. 0-700 tomorrow for your assessment and I want you to move on to base with the rest of the team temporarily to redevelop your skills for the imminent future. Deployment is set for two weeks from now. That is all, thank you both” Laswell finishes, collecting her belongings before tapping Price on the shoulder on her way out. 
Stacking the papers into a neat pile; he looks between you and Gabby before sliding an unsigned document, tapping his finger to where he wants you to sign and handing you his pen. Glancing down at it, its weight is surprisingly heavy and the small engraving of 141 on the lid has you smiling, you look over the page- reading through each clause before signing your name at the bottom and sliding it back with a sigh. 
Gabby slaps your shoulder with yet another cheer as she calls for drinks tonight that has you shaking your head at the idea. “I have my assessment in the morning scales, can’t be going out and doing that just yet.”
“Lame” Gabby states back childishly before asking if you wanted a drive back, you smile thankfully at this as you begin to stand from your seat. Knees a bit weak from staying in the same position for too long. Yet as your hand hovers over the door handle, a small call out from the table has you turning back to face your new captain. 
“Welcome to the team Y/N”
“Thank you Captain” 
--
Keys swing around Gabbys finger as you both make your way towards the parking lot at the back of the base. Walking through the halls and across the pavement; viewing all the helicopters and equipment tucked nearly away has memories sending goosebumps across your skin, nerves and excitement mixing together in your anxiety driven cocktail as you follow in Fish’s shadow. 
Gabby clicks the small device twice as the car flashes its lights with a small honk. Yet as you begin to enter the vehicle a calling out of your name from another car has you smacking your head against the roof of the car and eliciting a loud groan as you rub the spot gently, turning to face whomever got you into this state. 
Gaz smiles apologetically from the rolled-down window as he asks if you want help tomorrow moving your stuff on to base, he mentioned that your new captain already sent a message to the infamous groupchat you had yet to be added to. Smiling at the man's kindness you accept as he asks for your number. Walking up to his car, exchanging phones; you place your name alone in his as Gaz places a petrol symbol for himself that has you giggling when you read it. Tapping the top of his car in a sign of goodbye, he drives through the gates and away. 
Turning back you see Gabby leaned against the car with a cheeky grin, “do I need to report anything to the council already, lieutenant?” 
“Yet?! Do you honestly think I am getting with any of them, or that they would have any interest in all of this shit?” You reply while flinging your hands up and down your body, emphasising your statement. 
“Well.. you and Soap looked to be getting cosy…”
“I needed physical comfort, you know this”
“Mmhmm”
“Gabby! I swear to god-”
“Mmhmm” 
“Even with my last team, we almost never did any of that shit”
“Almost?” She teases back.
“Not like that Gabs! ugh!”
Gabby does not bother to listen to anymore of your protests as she hops backs into the vehicle, the engine roaring to life as you sit yourself into the passengers side with a huff, buckling your seatbelt before helping her to check the blindspots and give directions back to your place. 
--
The drive back is peaceful after the hellish day you have had. Gabby flipped you off while driving away as your neighbour complained about hearing your cat moving about your apartment too loudly. Apologising you turned the key in the hole and entered, the space was dark with a small candle coming from the kitchen. Cursing to yourself for leaving it unattended, blowing it out you called for Spoons to make sure he didn’t hurt himself from it. 
Checking the cat over in your arms and sighing out in relief, you hunched down slightly so they could move to your shoulders and motioned to get their medication before you started the debate of ordering in or cooking dinner for yourself. Opening the fridge you cursed to find it empty, resting your forehead against its metal door to cool your head, you felt for your phone the jean pocket as Spoons meows loudly in your ear. 
Placing him on the counter and closing the door with your foot, you order delivery and feel for your wallet; walking yourself back into the living and falling onto the cushioned seat, feet pressed atop the coffee table as you threw a weighted blanket over yourself and turned the television on. Doctor Who played across the screen as you chucked at their antics and companions' poorly timed jokes, the doorbell ringing and a tip being served before you switched to the VOD for the football game. 
Your team was losing severely as you whisper-yelled at the screen, afraid of getting a thorough beating from your elderly neighbour. You flicked it off before it finished and noticed that your plate was empty. Placing the containers in the fridge and washing your dishes in the sink, you see Spoons sleeping on the half-wall separating your kitchen from the dining room. Their belly turned upwards as light snores exited their body. Snapping a quick picture to show Ghost in the morning, you began your nightly routine. 
Showering, brushing and flossing your teeth, alongside applying your moisturizers. You shuffled underneath the covers while doing some last minute scrolling through your phone. Rolling your eyes when you saw the endless stream of reels being sent from Gabbys personal account that had you switching your ringer off and placing it on to charge. Setting your alarm clock to sound you closed your eyes as your body jerked throughout the night, awaking in a cold sweat as only a few hours had passed before doing your best at returning back to sleep.
--
The loud sound of ringing gradually made its way across your ears as you groaned and blindly reached over to turn it off; you ended up swatting it off the nightstand, the loud crash had you sitting upright from the sound of it smacking against the hardwood floors. Being stubborn to get out of bed just yet, you reach across the room to pick it up and shut it up. Falling back into the covers you reach for your phone and smile seeing your parents’ name in the notifications, they wish you a strong return back with a string of emojis that has you shaking your head while replying, slightly regretting for introducing them to that submenu on the keyboard.
Stretching and rolling out your yoga mat, you do our daily exercises before setting the kettle to boil and heading for a quick shower. The mirror clouds over as you draw a small heart across its surface while scrolling for just the right song to start getting ready to. 
Coming back out- refreshed you dig through the back of your closet to find parts of your old uniform that you didn’t have the heart to send down to the storage rooms. Placing it across your frame and looking at yourself in the foyer mirror. A tear slides itself down your cheek as you swiftly wipe it away. Spoons soon comes between your legs pawing to be fed as you lightly smile down at them. 
Apologizing to your furry friend, you give them their daily medication and head out the door, to your car in the underground parkade. 06:10 reads on the dash as you drive back to the base from memory. While at a light you start a call with Gabby, hoping that she would fess up to what types of testing you will go through today, yet she gave you nothing much to your dismay other than some teasing as usual. 
“Did you end up talking to Gaz more last night when you exchanged numbers?”
“No, I talked to my parent though.”
“Oh! I miss them, are they still single?”
“Gabs I swear-”
“Hey! Just an honest question…”
“Sure, sure.”
“Are you here yet?”
“Almost, about a block away”
“Okay good.”
“Everything al’right?”
“Oh yeah, Soap just keeps telling me I'm no fun now that he’s met you, butthurt honestly.” 
“Well I have always been the funnier one.”
“Thanks, just what I needed to hear.”
“You know me- social skills, simply perfection…” you end with a giggle in your voice, “...okay im at the gate now, see you in a few.”
Pulling the car into an empty parking spot, you ended the call while hauling your work bag with your camera inside over your shoulder from the passenger's seat and take your metal water bottle with you. Locking the car with a click you walked towards the main building and picked yourself up a new badge. Wincing at your picture, you hide it in your jacket pocket as you make your way down the hall and towards the locker rooms to put your stuff down. 
--
Taking in a deep breath, you made your way out to the fields and saw everyone standing in a circle, speaking in hushed tones before halting at the sounds of your footsteps nearning. Giving the group a small wave, Gabby came over and wished you luck with a large hug and kiss against your cheek before returning back to her duties. Laswell stood to the side, clipboard in hand as she began to look at her watch, anxious to begin and return to her stack of files as well. 
Soap speedily walks his way over to you, clapping a hand on your shoulder and pulling you in to his side, he wishes you good luck and a few other words told in his native tongue that you didn’t quite catch before Ghost is shouting across the field, in what would appear an aggressive tone to any new listener. 
“English, Jonny”
“Fuckin’ Britts you lot”
“Hey you! Don't assume my nationality you prick”
Soap looks at you wide-eyed and apologetically as words and curses fall out of his mouth like a waterfall. Gaz can he heard chucking off to the side as you pat Soaps shoulder and tell him that you were just pulling his leg. He nods his head and sighs out in relief while looking up towards the grey skies. Making your way over to greet the Captain and Ghost, they both offer you a firm handshake once more as you provide a wide smile back before heading towards Gaz sitting on a nearby bench beside Laswell. 
Sitting beside him, he starts making small talk and eventually asks what you are doing directly after this. Looking towards Laswell she shrugs and reminds you of the team-building you promised to do before calling you to the starting line. Gaz makes a quick note for you to continue your conversation later as he shouts you a good luck as you make your way away. He sits up from the bench and moves to stand beside Simon and the others in line to the side.
--
Nearing the starting line, you notice a series of vertical obstacles ranging from a rope climb, an outstanding rock wall and a fence hop. Leaning your body to the side, you look further down to see a tire you will need to push alongside a series of pylons lining a large section of the tarmac. A long run, how great after all of that. 
Shaking your head of the negativity, you closed your eyes and evened your breathing before sending Laswell a nod of your head, ready to tackle this course to the best of your ability. The sound of a shout coming from the Station Chief has your body moving faster than your mind as you hoist yourself up the rope and jump down to the other side. 
Your body wavers slightly upon impact yet as soon as your knees steady once more you are running up the rock wall to boost yourself up, skipping half of it as you hear Gaz praising your technique while waiting running to wait for you on the other side. Using your feet and hands, you slip slightly from the lack of gloves or chalk before running down the ramp on the other side. Next you are sprinting over to hop over three sizes of fences as Soap claps loudly at the end telling you how many obstacles you have left. 
Smiling to yourself in a layer of sweat, you side-hop the last small fence before whipping your forehead with the backside of your arm and collapse yourself to the floor in low crawl under the wire frames above. The mud finds its way into your boots and underneath your fingernails as you sigh happily at its cool texture on your skin. 
Nearing the end you look ahead of yourself to see the long awaited large tire sitting flush against the ground. Picking yourself up to stand and shaking your hands violently while running over, you heave it up with a large grunt and push it to fall. Completing these repetitive actions tenfold before showing the tire over the designated cones. The long awaited run now awaited you as Price praised you with a large smile, yours matching his own as your feet began to pick up pace once more, now desperately trying to reach the end of the course in time. 
The soon becomes in view as you see Laswell standing there, stopwatch in hand as Gabby appears beside her, jumping enthusiastically and pointing at your approaching frame. This momentarily distracts you from the pain you are feeling throughout your body as it takes everything in you to run the last quarter mile. 
Yet as you near, the shouting of all your awaiting squad members, the sound of your blood pumping through your ears and your laboured breaths has you faltering slightly as your world spins and the finish line is closer than ever before. 
Memories cloud over your senses as you can feel the sweat dripping off your neck and down your back. The feeling of cold metal combing itself against your skin has you shivering in your overheated state as your stomach begins to turn itself outwards.
You don’t notice yourself running across the finish line and slightly pass before a pair of arms wrap themselves around your frame and hold you steady as they shake your shoulders in an effort to make you become present. 
You can feel a distant hand running circles on to your lower back as they brush the hair out of your eyes and behind your ears before resting their hand against your forehead, checking your temperature while making a hand motion in the other as the sounds of multiple boots rushing over have you swaying in their hold and holding your stomach as you kneel over. Knees falling to the pavement as you collapse on to your side. Eyes blurry as you see the rough contours of faces shaking your legs and holding your chin before they push you into recovery position as you throw up your guts on to someone's boots. 
Apologising subconsciously in a gravel filled tone. The sounds of cries over power your being as you shrink into yourself, tears falling. But soon enough you feel laying down beside you as they tug you over and point to the clouds in the sky while you rub your eyes. The multiple pairs of eyes on you have fallen significantly as you take in a large breath and whip your eyes and cheeks with the back of your hand. 
Looking over to your left you see Gabby staring at you smiling, remenist to what you would do as kids in your backyard, making stories out of all the clouds above and promises of your futures together. How times have changed as the pavement burned itself against the back of your head that still felt a bit fuzzy and your hands shook slightly against your sides. 
As Gabby directs you to copy her breathing and calls for your bag to be brought over while searching for your medication side, she asks softly if you remember to take some yesterday. Eyes going wide you shake your head and groan to yourself while placing the back side of your hand to rest against your forehead, shielding your eyes from the sun beginning to poke its way through the clouds. 
Doing your best to hoist yourself to a sitting position, your frame wobbles slightly as Gabby rapidly turns her body around and her face turns into horror. Her hands are filled as she watches you sway and almost crash your head against the tarmac once more yet thankfully an arm had you hoisted up against their side as they joined you on the floor. 
Smiling over to Gaz thankfully he rubbed your shoulder and Gabby kneeled down to hand you a cup of water and a few pills. Looking at them in your hand, shuffling them slightly in your palm you threw them into your mouth, tipping your head back consciously as the water made its way down your system. 
Gaz then handed you a pack of crackers that were obviously from an MRE. You winched in reaction that had Gaz giggling at your face before it fell when Fish just about punched him to remove it. Shaking your head slightly at the two and telling Gaz you know he meant nothing poor of it, you begin to take small bites out of the cracker while looking around to find where everyone else went. 
As you stare down the field, you see Laswell and Price in a heated argument as the boys stand to his side, a few grand hand gestures are made as Soap flings his arms around wildly, almost hitting Ghost in the face that has him holding his limbs still so the Captain can focus. 
Looking towards Gaz once more you ask simply, “Hey Gaz…” He hums to you in reply while his focus is on making sure that you continue to eat, “...Shouldn’t you be down there listening to what Laswell and Price have to say?”
“I think something more important came up that held my attention”
As you move to apologise, Gaz holds his other hand up slightly as you pause your next words. His eyes crinkle slightly as he stares eye level into your own, your mouth opens slightly at the sight of his smile so close to your face, yet you shake your head blaming it on all the anxiety still coursing its way through your system. 
“Sometimes all we need is to sit down with someone so that the world can figure itself out.”  
You humm in reply as clears her throat softly as you both jerk your bodies in reaction, forgetting her presence in front of you. She shakes her head and chuckles lightly at both of your reactions before saying, “what about some words of wisdom for yours truly, Garrick?” While fluttering her eyelashes. 
Rolling your eyes you can’t help but chuckle at your best friends seemingly never ending sass as you ask, “Garrick?” While tilting your head to the side, staring at Gaz’s profile as he simply explains that it's his last name and you nod to this newfound information. 
“My full name is actually Kyle “Gaz” Garrick”
“Kyle Garrick” You test the name out upon your lips as he gives you once of his famous smiles once more while squeezing your shoulder.
“My name sounds a whole lot better while coming out from between your lips”
Gasping at his comment, you blush widely in response while holding your cheeks with the palms of your hand in an effort to hide your growing embarrassment. Groaning while leaning forward, your head falls into Gabbys lap as she laughs once more at you while combing her fingers through your hair as Gaz slides his hand to rest against your back.
Mumbling in Gabbys secure hold about his touch not helping your state. You hear a loud laugh as he reacts with his hand apologising. The lack of his touch as you question the equally relieved and disappointed emotions flashes across your brain. Yet this bubble of a moment would soon be broken as the rest of the team returned around you.
Everyone eventually sat down on the pavement that had you mentally giggling to yourself, the ghost of a smile makes its way across your features as you notice the formation you all have made is reminiscent of the duck, duck, goose game. 
Soap soon leans over to whisper in your ear, “tag, you’re it” while poking your shoulder jokingly. Wincing in an exaggerated manner has Soap quickly asking if you alright as you smile kindly in response, “I’m feeling a lot better now, thank you Soap” 
He nods back in response before shifting his focus to Gaz, eyeing how close he is sitting against you now all the more obvious as Gabby moved herself to sit between Laswell and Ghost. Yet making no comments on his observations that has relief spreading across your skin. You did not need anymore teasing.
Looking back around the circle yourself, you notice as the Captain does a quick look over of you before nodding his head in approval and turning his attention towards Laswell who appears to be choosing their next words carefully as you feel Ghosts gaze settling hot against your profile.
Tilting your head slightly, you notice how he plays with his gloves and how soft his eyes appear behind the mask as if asking you a simple question to your state. Offering a small smile and nod in recognition you watch out of the corner of your eye as his fidgeting stops and he too eyes Laswells next words. 
Clearing her throat, her eyes make their way around the circle and stop at you, “you have done well today Y/L/N, flying colours for the obstacle course and impressive return I must add. Yet after today…” Her sentence drifts off as she lacks the words necessary to continue, looking over to Price for help.
The Captain holds your eyes softly in his own as he finishes for Laswell, “from discussions earlier and your best interests in mind, Laswell and the team have decided that we won’t be putting you on attack for now.” A large sigh escapes your mouth as you feel conflicted on how to feel about not fully coming back. 
Price continues, “until then you come with us on missions to gather intelligence for Fish under our watch.”
“I understand sir” you respond back, doing the best to hide your emotion in your voice as you see Soap shift himself closer to your side in noticing your slight change in tone. Your eyes are still being held by the captains as you see his eyes wince slightly at your response before his face returns to its professional state. 
Slapping his hands against his knees with a throat clearing he stands up from the sitting circle and dismisses the meeting, turning around and walking his way back inside the main building. Laswell follows suit, dragging Gabby alongside her while they both compare paper-workloads. 
Gabby turns around mouthing an apology for leaving so soon as you look back and see Ghost is now a bit further away with Soap as they appear to be chatting seriously over something together before Ghost locks him into a headlock. Shaking your lead and looking away all you hear are the sounds of them scraping one another in the background as you find Kyle waiting to ask you something. 
“Do you want me to come over tonight?” Kyle questions softly while tilting his head, awaiting your response.
“To come over?”
“Oh ah-apologies, I meant to move your things temporarily on base”
“Oh,” You laugh lightly while shaking your head of the drifting thoughts you were having, “...yeah some help would be great Kyle! Thank you so much for the offer once more.”
“It's really nothing Y/N.”
“Still…”
“Well, how about after you treat me to some coffee together the day after?”
“I like the sound of that,” You say while doing your best to hide the ever growing smile spreading its way across your rosy cheeks as you notice Gaz smiling back at your adorable self. 
“Why do you get to call Gaz by their first name and not me?! I thought I was your favorite based upon yesterday, what has this British man done to your head beauty?” Soap cries out while quickly walking back over to you as Ghost is nowhere to be seen. 
Your head throws back in laughter as your shoulders rise and fall in swift motions. Gaz shakes his head at his squad member, shoving his shoulder lightly from around your frame with the hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips. While Soap remains completely serious in the matter, grabbing your shoulders lightly to make sure you are facing him when you respond. 
“Okay then Soap…” Your voice deepens teasingly at the mention of his callsign “...so what would you like me to call you?”
You watch as his eyebrows raise and a smirk slides its way across his features that has you already groaning, predicting what he is going to say as you can hear Kyle laughing behind you at the interaction.
“Mhmm, well there are a number of things I would love you to call me…” You roll your eyes at this comment,  “...Yet for now let's stick to Johnny.”
“Johnny?”
“You got it, Johnny.”
“Can’t promise I can say it with a scottish accent like you do”
“Humor me”
“Please don’t make me.”
“Just once, c'mon, promise not to record this one…”
“This one!”
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right, Johnny” You respond in a horrible Scottish accent that has Soap reeling with laughter as he grips your shoulder and pulls you into a hug as Gaz laughs harder in the background. The flash of a camera can be heard as you call pause to face the sound to see Ghost pocketing his phone inside his black hoodie. 
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╰┈➤ A/N: so... what did you guys think? Have a favorite member so far? Thank you serious for reading all of this lol.
Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist
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missvelvetsstuff · 8 months ago
Text
No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.
Previous chapter:
"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"
Chapter 3
Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks
Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.
Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.
Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"
Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.
Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."
She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly
"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."
Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."
Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.
"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.
Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."
Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."
Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.
"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."
He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."
Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"
Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."
Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."
She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.
"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."
Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.
"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."
He picked his head up and looked at Cookie
"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."
Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."
Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."
She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."
Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."
Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"
Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."
Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."
She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.
Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.
He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.
Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.
When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.
She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.
"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."
Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."
Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"
Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."
Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."
Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."
Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.
Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."
Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."
Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.
When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.
"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"
He looked to Sharon for an explanation.
Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"
"Of course agent Carter."
A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.
Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.
"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."
Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."
Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."
He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."
Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."
Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.
Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.
Chapter 4
The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx
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0kurakura0 · 2 months ago
Text
Case Files Pt.2
Simon Riley "Ghost" x UN lawyer Reader
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TF 141 receives a visit from a UN prosecutor working at the ICC. This overworked prosecutor is trying to build a case against war criminals and must team up with them to catch these criminals. Along the way, they may even catch feelings for a brooding soldier. slow-burn, M/F, cursing
>> Part 1
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Months had passed since the last confrontation between Task Force 141 and the UN lawyer, who had left their mission in utter disarray by arresting Leopold. Task Force 141, now back in their usual routine, was gathered once again in the same briefing room. The air was thick with the preparation for their new mission. Ghost leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his mask reflecting the room's dim light. Soap sat beside him, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm. Gaz, ever the calm one, observed them both while Price stood at the front, casting a glance at the door every so often.
Laswell’s voice crackled over the speaker, as she started the briefing. “All right, gentlemen, today we’re being called in for an operation in Lebanon. Our target is an arms dealer with deep ties to black-market weapon trades across Europe and the Middle East. The objective is to take him down and dismantle his network of contacts and clients,” she explained, her tone steady.
Soap leaned forward. “Right, so what’s the catch? Seems simple enough.”
“Simple?” Laswell chuckled darkly. “Not exactly. This time, the UN wants direct involvement. They’ve assigned an attorney to accompany you. Their goal is to ensure any evidence you gather will hold up for an international prosecution.”
Soap leans over to Gaz whispering “What the chances of it being the li’le lass from last ti-,”
The door creaked open, and in walked ____, the same woman who had arrested Leopold months before. She wore the same crisp suit, her demeanor equally unyielding, though there was a slight tension in her shoulders. As she entered her gaze met Ghost’s, and he narrowed his eyes under the mask, the sense of annoyance already brewing in his mind. He wasn’t the only one; the entire team looked taken aback.
“Thanks, Soap,” Gaz says in annoyance before Price clears his throat towards them signaling them to shut up. “Sorry cap,” both Saop and Gaz say. Once Price turned back to the center table Gaz shoves Saop in the side. 
Laswell continued, undeterred. “Gentlemen, meet _____. She’ll be joining you in the field to help secure solid evidence against our target.”
Soap snickered quietly, leaning toward Ghost with a whisper. “Back again, huh? Bet she’s thrilled to be workin’ with us.”
Ghost rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. “Don’t see why we need a suit in the field.”
_____’s lips tightened as she caught the comment, and she addressed the room in a clipped tone. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but orders are orders. My goal is the same as yours—to put this man behind bars, not just take him out. I’m here to make sure every piece of evidence we collect is admissible. That’s it.”
Price cleared his throat, attempting to defuse the tension. “We’re all on the same side here. _____, I trust you’ll stay out of the way when things get… heated.”
_____’s eyes flashed, her voice steady. “As long as the evidence remains intact, I’ll give you the space you need to do your job.”
Laswell’s voice broke in again, her tone a bit softer. “Everyone here has their part to play. Work together. This arms dealer has slipped through the cracks before, and if we’re not meticulous, he’ll do it again.”
The room fell silent, each of the operatives turning to look at one another with various shades of reluctance and tension. Gaz leaned forward, breaking the silence with a low voice. “Fine. Let’s just make sure we’re all on the same page when things kick off. We all want the same outcome, so let’s keep it that way.”
Price nodded, grateful for Gaz’s level-headedness. “Well said, Gaz. Let’s get to work, then.”
As they filed out of the room, Ghost’s gaze lingered on ____. She met his eyes, her expression cold but focused. He grunted under his breath and followed the others, his mood simmering. This mission was going to be anything but simple, it was going to be a right pain in his ass. 
~A short while after the meeting~
_____ POV
“Sir, respectfully, I don't understand why I am doing fieldwork, that's not something we do!” I say on the phone to my superior, Clarkson as I stand outside the meeting room in the hallway. 
“I know but we need all the evidence and help we can get on Tarek. He has been eluding us for too long and every time we get any type of evidence he somehow finds a way to destroy it. Just bear with it for now you'll be fine” Clarkson says in a stern but understanding voice. 
Clarkson has been my superior ever since I joined the UN law sector. He is a good man and has always been there to help me in situations. Iv looked up to him in a sense I guess. He always is just amazing with his work never losing a case and always being the most confident person in the room. I just don't understand why he would send me of all people to do this. Like seriously I'm not a soldier! I am a lawyer goddammit! I cry in my head till I answer back with a simple “i understand” in a defeated tone. 
“Just stay safe. I'll be checking in on you to make sure and hear of your progress. And ____ stay safe out there don't put yourself in any unwanted situations.” He says before saying goodbye and hanging up.
I sigh leaning my back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling before giving myself a little pep talk. “You can do this ____, just show these guys that they can't walk all over me.” hump I smile to myself “Not even that brooding skull dude” I keep smiling at myself as I continue to gaslight myself. 
“Just stay out of our way, suit,” a low gruff voice says from the side of me.
I freeze. Without turning my body I move my eyes to the left of me to see the dude I most definitely verbally called brooding a minute ago. 
“HOLY FUCK” I scream jumping at least a foot away from him as I see him just standing there next to me. “WTF you can't just sneak up on people like that what the hell and why are you trying to listen in on my call or something!” I yell at him as I place a hand over my heart trying to find my heartbeat.
“Last time I checked you don't own this hallway and it's your fucken fault for taking a call right outside of the briefing room. And a word of advice: stay out of our way unless the only evidence you and your superior will end up with is a dead lawyer,” he says as he moves closer to me looking down on me to try and intimidate me.
“Is that a threat?” I glare back up at him.
“A warning,” he says as he shoves past me pushing me to the side in the process. As he continues down the hallway.
That asshole…..THAT COMPLETE ASSHOLE. I CAN'T BELIEVE HE SAID THAT TO ME.
As he rounded the corner down the hallway and disappeared from sight. in all my 4 years of law school maturity and glory, I raise both my hands and flip him off before turning down the opposite way. 
“ Just stay out of our way meh meh meh. Prick” I say grumping going down the hallway. I need a raise after this shit. 
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Hey all here is part 2 actually came out faster than I thought I would type it out but had a burst of energy lol. chapters will be getting longer from here on out since I can play with it more. The next one will probably come out at Thanksgiving time.
well, I hope yall like it :)
also really love all the support I've been getting from everyone it's so nice if anyone has requests more than happy to do them.
also master list coming soon
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