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#I KNOW IT WILL BE FINE BUT HAVING TO HEAR THEM COPE WITH THAT JUST AGSJAOKAKALA
reidrum · 2 days
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good night moon | s.r
A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!
cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him
wc: 2.4k
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trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.
fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.
“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.
this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.
“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.
“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”
“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”
you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”
the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.
you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.
“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.
“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”
the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.
that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.
and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.
since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.
you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.
so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.
spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.
and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.
spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”
“hi.”
“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”
“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”
spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”
you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”
spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.
after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”
still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”
he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.
now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.
you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.
spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.
“what’s in the bag?”
“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.
you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.
candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.
“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”
your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?
the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.
so you did.
“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“
“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.
spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”
“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”
“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.
“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.
“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”
spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”
“i’m tired.” you lament.
“then lets go sleep.”
“i can’t.”
“why not?”
“im scared.”
“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”
spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.
you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.
“could you stay for bit?”
“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.
thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.
spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.
“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”
“are you sure?” you let out meekly,
“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.
after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.
you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.
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moonlit-orchid · 2 months
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"final problem" this, "final problem" that
You know what I'm waiting for?
The three Garridebs
Specifically That One Scene in The Three Garridebs
If we do not get that scene, I will cry
If we do get that scene, I... will probably also cry but for a different reason
Anyway, The Three Garridebs is the one I'll be waiting for
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bueris · 15 days
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okay maybe I should seriously reconsider my path in life and sell my soul to marketing or journalism instead
#okay venting in the tags you are very welcome to ignore or not respond to it i just need to yell somewhere#i always thought id be an art therapist because well i care about people and want to help them and love art#but everyday i wake up feeling like a fraud and an imposter so like. should i really be doing all that when im not entirely#certain i cpuld handle it??? like i know i haven't gotten the meaty bit of the education towards that yet but like#university costs a disgusting amount of money here and if i pick the wronf thing im likely doomed forever thanks to awful government#i know things could get better like they did after thatcher but honestly im not putting any bets on it considering how the current labour#party is so like if i fuck up here im basically dead#also can i actually do art uni. like could i cope with that. im deeply unethused with art at the moment and honestly will i evwr be#idk#it was jusr a thing i always did but education around it is fucking soul sucking#also the emotional weight of hearing and solving people's problems as a therapist. i would consider myself quite empathetic for the most#part i feel other people's pain quite strongly and obviously as a therapist id be feeling that quite a bit so could i actually cope with it?#ik therapists have therapists but still#i mean im doing work experience at an occupational therapy place so ill just be extra inquisitive about it all to make sure im going#the way i wanna#I'll be fine by the end of a levels ill probably understand what i want in life#if not then gap year to work it out#should probably look at unis for english language too then#sigh#ucas website i may as well marry you#ill be okay im getting in my head about stuff im actually pretty good at art even if there are things i can improve on (like patience lol)#yeah maybe the voice telling me i suck doesnt know shit and should shut up#yeah#shut it nasty voice you're wrong actually!!! im doing just fine and you're being overly critical#they should make a brain that's your friend and not mush that hides the amalgamation of every bad thing ever in its crevices#crevices shoyild be filled with kindness and love.#sex jokes about that#why the fuck is yahoo mail syncing i dont use you you washed up search engine#bue waffling#vent post
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todayisafridaynight · 8 months
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theres no better place for my ichi ringtone to go off than during my exam tbh
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jackett-slut · 6 months
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ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.
#vent. sort of.#okay. why do i have absolutely no clue what i want or like. like in life. career/job/college/life etc wise. no interests beyond casual.#and amateur level interests. which is fine but i don’t think i want them to go higher and therefore aren’t careers you know. i like them#for fun. but like all my friends have interests and things they’re studying or doing that i hear it and i’m like oh my god yeah that’s them#that’s perfect. that’s so them. of course. makes perfect sense. and they have the history of hobbies and interest in the topic to back that#choice up. but me? man i have fucking nothing. i feel like i have been in survival mode forever and i literally have not had the opportunit#or ability to develop myself and my interests or even my fucking STYLE or ANYTHING!!! it seems worthless FOR ME. WHY????????#that’s the survival mode talking. but like what am i supposed to do now. i feel like a fucking shell of a person. like the only thing that#passes through this brain is whatever my current hyperfixation is and whatever new hell/trauma/issue i’m dealing with in my life. that’s it#man i remember being a kid and having vibrancy and passion and interests. and it just left. maybe it left when my brother was born when i#was 10. maybe it left during any one of the traumautic experiences or abuse during my teenage years.#but then i wonder what my friends see. like do i have interests and likes in their eyes? i mean space has been My Thing to my friends for#years now but even my interest and love for that was a coping mechanism (escapism) and i’m not interested in the science beyond what i can#use to cope and mentally escape or use in my head as hope for escape.#MAN i feel like i’m so fucked. like i don’t know what the fuck to do. i don’t want to do anything. maybe i’m depressed?#i mean i know i do and have dealt with depression but i mean maybe that’s what this is from.#maybe i’m autistic? maybe adhd and maybe that’s why i have whims and phases that never stick? i don’t know.#maybe it’s from the dysphoria? maybe it’s like bc i can’t picture a future for myself bc of that? probably not cuz i have trans friends who#do indeed have solid interests and senses of self.#so. i don’t fucking know.#i don’t fucking know. i don’t know what to do. i feel like i’m falling behind and like i’ll never get out and i’ll never get my head into#my own real life and the present in order to figure out who i am and what i like and want. i’ve got NOTHING. HEAD. EMPTY. WHAT THE FUCK.#what the fuck. what do people do when they run up against this problem. i don’t know.#maybe this rn is just because i’m on my period. i don’t know. fuck.#maybe it’s dissociation. or like FROM my lifelong dissociation issues. hmm.#okay but THEN i’m like okay this is a really privileged problem to have like. i have a choice in what i want to do. which is nice. and i am#not even being rushed by my family. so like. then i feel even worse for feeling this way. fuck. maybe it’s fine maybe it’s all fine.#maybe this just happens sometimes and a person has no interests and it’s fine. i don’t fucking know. doesn’t seem to be that way for most#people but maybe. who knows#vent
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jedi-bird · 1 year
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Grief is such a funny thing. You can be perfectly fine until you're not. You can get past that, sometimes with difficulty, until you hear something that completely makes you fall apart; sometimes that something is unrelated to the original thing but feels like it hurts even more. It never fully goes away but it can get easier to bear with time. Grief is something I do not wish upon anyone, though in truth it is the price of love and worth all in the end.
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wrecking · 2 years
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genuinely just want to lay in bed and cry all the time as of late but you know i can’t just like Do that so i need to find some form of outlet for this
edit: i did not expect the tags to be this long, sorry for that
#d#haven't felt this consistently bad in a long time#idk what it is specifically like if it's the college thing or the injury thing or the Me Suffering Mentally thing or all 3#as time has gone on since i finished high school i've always kinda struggled imagining .  any sort of future for myself at all#i feel like i'm coming to the realization that i'm not really ever going to be not codependent just because i'm so Like This#and like that's fine in my head but i know everyone else is going to hate it all the time and also hate me for it#and it just makes me so.  why can't i have been born into a family that actually listens to me or respects me#why can't i get out either.  at least without tearing this whole family apart#not like it matters much to me cuz i've always felt like a stranger but i know it'd destroy them#but also all of this ^^^ shouldn't even fucking MATTER right now because i'm struggling enough with college prep and trying to cope#esp with the 15000000 doctor's visits and health scares and everyone insisting i have to uproot every aspect of my current routine#for whatever god damn reason (some valid some not) so i'm just constantly uneasy and uncomfortable and i feel like i'm getting more unstable#it's frustrating watching my parents seem cordially concerned about my health or my college status or something#but anytime it's not what they want to hear or i disagree with them about something it's immediately back to them treating me horribly#and also the fact i can't like.  add onto this at all cuz to my parents i'm so.  clueless that if i reveal any of this-#i will spend the next 100000 years fighting for anything i say to be seen legitimately regarding anything at all.#like i can't change anything without fighting like hell but i also can't stay the same so it feels like i'm losing all my agency#and being forced into things i'm either not ready for or don't want#but i can't oppose or speak out or ask for anything else because either i'm ungrateful or too naive to be involved in the conversation#i feel like i'm being excluded from the conversation if you will about my entire life.  everything about me i find out after everyone else#god sorry i ranted in the tags tonight.  gonna just post this and delete it in a few hours :zany:
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norakitkat · 3 months
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During one of them week-long tours, my roomie and i, along with a friend of hers, allegedly watched peppa pig at midnight and laughed our asses off at the friend's commentary
Now, years later, we (fam and i) constantly have peppa pig on tv, among other cartoons..
I miss it sometimes
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real-life-cloud · 8 months
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:((
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mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley in a Heatwave (HC)
sorry for being away, i’m back now <3 we brits CANNOT deal with heatwaves, when it gets over 26°c/80°f i just lay in my room in the dark because i can’t cope with heat and i know si is the same
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I just know that Simon can’t deal with heatwaves. He’s fine on missions abroad, but the second it gets hot in England, you will never hear the end of it…
Simon Riley who has a thing about wasting energy (like every British dad ever) and would rather sit and boil than run a second fan if you’re already using one. Of course, he wouldn’t stop his girl from keeping herself cool. "You can ‘ave it, baby, m’not even hot," meanwhile he’s visibly burning up.
Simon Riley who gets all grumpy when it’s too hot - he sleeps way more than usual, with no bedsheets because they’re "too hot", but still insisting on at least having a leg touching you.
Simon Riley who, speaking of sleeping, you often find sleeping in his boxers (occasionally, not even those). It’s just too hot, he doesn’t want to get sweaty, so he just opts to lay in his boxers in your shady bedroom. Taking up the whole bed. As always.
Simon Riley who loves to have loooong showers when it’s hot - he doesn’t get that sweaty, but he just really enjoys them. You wouldn’t think such a rough military man would be the type to spend half an hour in the bathroom, but you don’t know Si. That man loves a shower, he so takes his time just feeling the water. And gets all defensive when you tease him for it.
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this was a speedy one but I’m wanting to get back into writing, I wrote like two a day for two weeks and then just stopped 😭
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fafefae · 5 months
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thinking about how in episode four after angel yells at husk. husk realized two things and then did them.
he first realized that he went about looking at angel all wrong, and shared a piece of his own painful past to rectify that. he recognized someone going through what he's going through, and shared a piece of his past to get angel to realize that too.
and secondly, husk doesn't try to comfort angel about it. he knows that the last thing anyone in angels position wants to hear is empty comfort, and he realizes that. so what he says in response to that realization is this:
"You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked, well let me just say you're correct."
he AFFIRMS angels feelings, because husk IS in angels position. the song isnt husk taking a jab at angel when hes down. its an acknowledgement of his pain, which is EXACTLY what angel needed.
sure a solution to the problem would be nice and probably preferred, but a solution is just NOT possible right now, so the next best thing husk can do is acknowledge that pain and tell him "yeah, its fucked up, and its okay to be fucked up about how fucked up it is."
"There was a time I thought that no one could relate, to the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged, but letting walls down it can sometimes set you straight..."
because they're both survivors, and husk knows that being able to have someone to lean on while you're going through something thats impossible to escape from is the best way of coping with it. and even then, he doesnt make fun of angels coping mechanisms. angel can drink and do drugs and have sex all he wants, husk doesnt care.
"It's okay to be a-" "coked-up dick-sucking hoe?" "Baby that's fine by me."
but husk wont let him self destruct with these coping mechanisms. he wont let angel actually hurt himself, because theres a difference between coping via it, and using it to hammer the hurt in more, and the only time husk stepped in with angel was when he knew angel was in danger of hurting himself with it.
fuck. theyre both losers man. FUCK!
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charlietheepicwriter7 · 4 months
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S̶̤̋̉t̸o̶̝̍r̵̛͠m̸̠͌͝
Look, I know I promised a continuation of "Get in the Water," but I had this idea and just had to write it, okay? So this is the non-canon sequel, the canon one is still in progress.
They escaped. Batman dragged Damian's frozen body away from the Lazarus Pit and through the tunnels as Danyal's screams-sobs-wails echoed behind them. Eventually the sound ebbed away and they emerged to the surface.
A debrief was demanded from everyone; even Todd was in the Cave. Damian trembled, his only sign of distress, his mind stuck on Danyal's face, his brother's voice rebounding around his head.
Father's debrief had been rough. Damian could barely explain what happened, why he was drawn to the waters, why Danyal wanted to drown him. He'd only explained the Danyal was someone he'd killed while with the League, and Father was the only one to doubt his explanation.
Damian took the first opportunity to escape to the showers. Stripping down, Damian turned the faucet and the bathroom lit up bright green.
He flinched away, and when he opened his eyes, the water was just water. A stone sunk into his stomach.
The next day, while Father was consulting with Justice League Dark, Grayson and Drake returned to the caves for their own investigation of the Pits. And while they found the cavern--found by tracking the batarang Father threw--it was desert dry. There was no sign of Lazarus Water, nor did it look like it had ever been there.
That night, as Damian was washing his face before bed, he filled the sink basin with water. He turned away for one second, but when he looked back, he almost dipped his face under the green slime oozing out the spout. He bolted, and when he returned with a startled Father, the water had returned to normal.
Grayson insisted on taking him out for lunch the following day, citing that Damian needed a "break." Damian was furious, but allowed it; Justice League Dark was visiting the cave to discuss the... incident, and Damian wanted to interrogate them. He... he needed to know if that was really Danyal or not. If his sweet brother could have been twisted after his murder into that monster, that Siren crooning at him to choose to die.
He'd never contemplated the fate of his brother's immortal soul before. Had he done this to him? Could Damian had avoided this by killing him honorably, instead of cowardly poisoning Danyal so he'd pass away in his sleep?
Damian allowed Grayson order for him. He wasn't hungry. The clouds above swirled ominously as he followed Grayson to a nearby awning with a picnic bench underneath.
Grayson took a bite of his gyro. "So? How have you been coping these past few days?"
"I'm not an invalid, Grayson," Damian hissed, glaring. "I'm fine."
A frozen breath brushed across his ear. "Ĺ̶̥̲̪̀̐ỉ̷̢̜̚a̴̧͖͛r̶̺̫̾͗̃͜,̶͕̐" Danyal whispered in his ear.
Grayson didn't notice or hear Danyal's voice. "You see, I don't believe you. One of your dead League friends is supernaturally gunning for you, Dami; it's normal to feel out of sorts."
Damian scoffed. "Nothing about this situation is normal."
He looked down at his food and sighed. "Yeah, that's for sure. I'm sorry, Damian. I wish this wasn't happening to you."
"And I wish the creature would just attack already," Damian griped. "It's the waiting that will kill me, not that fake."
Like someone had been listening, the sky opened up and it rained green throughout Gotham.
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reiding-writing · 6 months
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Omg imagine Reid being incredibly touch starved and literally having this very primal craving for affection to the point it's all he can think about but he cannot for the life of him get over his fear of germs and it's just all this angst and ahh
deprivation [ s.r ]
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Summary:
Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.
WARNINGS: germophobia, self deprecation, touch deprivation, emotional breakdown
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort
wc: 2.8k
masterlist!!
a/n: great minds must think alike because i was actually already working on this when the request came in😭
i made this less angsty than originally planned, but i hope it suffices nonetheless the less, thanks for the request! <33
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Spencer Reid was exhausted in every sense of the word.
His muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was so burnt out he didn’t even have any thing to say when JJ had incorrectly mentioned a ‘fact’ about a certain sub-species of butterfly that was supposedly native to Oregon.
His exhaustion only proved to get worse as the jet took off for Virginia, but the unfortunate rampaging of his own mind proved any chance of him sleeping on the flight home impossible.
“Hey… Are you okay?” Your voice seems to echo across the silence of the cabin despite you practically whispering to avoid waking your teammates, and Spencer’s eyes flicker up towards you, clearly not having expected you to be awake.
You stand up from your seat, walking down the aisle to take a seat on the sofa next to Spencer, his head resting in his hands as his eyes followed you. “You’ve been really quiet since the case ended,”
“I’m fine…” He said the words, but it wasn’t reflective of his tone of voice. There was something there. Something more, something beneath the words.
A sadness.
An uncertainty.
And if you listened to his voice, not just to his words, you’d hear a hint of pain, a deep seeded sense of misery that he was concealing beneath the usual layers of stoicism.
“Spencer you’re talking to a professional profiler, which I don’t even need to be to know that you’re not okay.” You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your mouth, turning to sit sideways to face him properly.
"I'm fine," He said the words again, and this time they held a touch of force. But the words did not match his tone, still pained, wounded, and silently pleading with him to just be honest with you.
And as the words came out of his mouth, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if hoping that what he was feeling would be gone by the time he opened them again.
But when they fluttered open through his eyelashes he was still on the sofa of the jet and you were still sitting there and he still felt miserable.
“If you don’t want to talk about it then I won’t pressure you,” You dejectedly resign yourself at Spencer’s insistence, leaning your left side against the back of the sofa. “But just know i’m here for you if you ever want to get something off your chest okay?”
"It's just...It's just-" He paused, biting his lip as if unsure about what he was about to say. He knew it may be dangerous to let himself slip. So he considered his words carefully before he spoke again. "...it's just been hard...I’m so stressed and...I'm...feeling vulnerable. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."
“Everyone’s gonna feel like that at some point Spence, especially in our line of work,” You tilt your head slightly at him, a soft expression painting your features that matches your tone.
"I know..." He said, " But...I don't like feeling like...like i can't cope. Like I'm scared. That's not who I am. I'm supposed to be the rational one. The smart one." Spencer dragged his palms up his face and back over his hair, leaning back against the sofa with his head leaned back against the wall.
“I don’t like being scared,”
And there, again, in that simple sentence was another hint of the hurt that his apprehension hadn’t managed to fully hide. “I’m meant to be better than that.”
“Spencer just because you are a functioning genius does not mean that you’re not allowed to be scared, that’s a part of what makes you human,” Your face furrows as you become increasingly concerned for Spencer and his mindset.
"I-...I know..." He said the words, but the underlying message was clear. He might know that he was supposed to have emotions and he might know that expressing them is healthy, but there was a part of him that was screaming at him to suppress them.
To bury his feelings and pretend to be the robot that his childhood (or lack thereof) had forced him to be.
He wasn't trying to be resistant, he was just...afraid.
“When was the last time you cried Spencer?” The question blurted it’s way out of your mouth as your concern for Spencer only continued to grow.
"Why would you ask me that?" His tone of voice was almost affronted by the question as if he were a little wounded that you had brought up something so sensitive.
He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and you swear that you could see his eyes glass over even in the dim lighting of the cabin. “Because i want to know exactly how much pent up emotion you’re dealing with right now,”
You make a conscious effort to relax your features as you look at him, sighing softly. “Please answer the question…”
Spencer took a second as he deliberated whether or not to answer your question, staring blankly across the cabin so he wouldn’t have to look at you.
"958 days ago."
He said the words coldly, but you could hear the emotion in the way he spoke them. This is the moment when he finally cracked. When he finally realised that hiding the way he felt wasn't a sustainable solution.
And its was also the point when he started to break down. The tears finally started to flow, and he couldn't stop them as much as he tried.
“Spence…” You reach out a hand towards him, but you barely get it up out of your lap before he firmly stops you.
"Don't..."
The words come out of him sharply, but there's something in his tone that saying the opposite. There’s a note of desperation in them. A plea. A cry for help. Because he wants you to touch him, he needs you to. But he's resistant to the idea, he keeps resisting it. “80% of communicable diseases are passed by physical contact. I don’t want to get sick.”
You curl up your hand into a ball as you let it fall back into your lap, pursing your lips as Spencer uses his statistical knowledge to stop you from touching him.
You knew he had an aversion to touch. That he was hyper aware of practically any illness that could possibly be transferred through human contact. You knew that he kept himself at a physical distance from everyone for a reason.
But you also knew that despite all of that he needed physical comfort. Words just weren’t going to cut it.
“It’s okay to need to be comforted…”
"I can get through this myself." He cuts you off harshly, and if you didn’t know that he was obviously mentally struggling his tone would’ve cut you deep.
He's in pain.
He's miserable.
And he's been alone for too long.
He needs emotional intimacy. He needs the affection and comfort of his friends.
He just can't bring himself to actually say that.
“Spencer, let me comfort you. please.” You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes follow a tear that falls down his face, leaving a water streak in its wake.
“It’s not healthy for you to ball yourself up like this,” You plead desperately with him to let down his emotional barriers and just let you help him.
"There's nothing wrong with me." His words are still cold, but he's wavering now. His shoulders are lowering, his hands loosening from fists to lying flat on either side of him.
He wants you to touch him. He wants the affection that he's been deprived of for so long. But there's still that part in him that's resisting. The voice in his head telling him he can't.
“There doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you for you to need comfort Spencer,” You attempt again to hesitantly reach out a hand towards you, but your advances are again immediately shot down.
"Please.. Don't touch me." His words come out weakly. He's desperately resisting, but the tears are still flowing down his cheeks and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down.
“…Are you sure?” You hand retreats back to your side the second he denies you, but you both know he’s not entirely convinced of his own boundaries.
"I'm sure."
He's lying.
The tears were still streaming down his cheeks, and even one quick look at his eyes could tell you that he was desperate to be touched.
He was craving human interaction. But the words were still coming out of his mouth. He wasn't ready yet, not quite yet.
Your hand falls to the gap between the two of you on the sofa, a few inches left between his hand and yours as you suppress a sigh at the clear desperation coating his face despite his denial of your touch.
But you don’t want to overstep the boundary, even if he’s not 100% sure of it himself.
He stares back at you, still resisting the urge to reach out for your hand, even though he's not sure why. He knows that he would feel better if he could grab you and put his head on your shoulder, letting the weight of all of his problems wash away.
But there was still the little voice in his head shouting "Don't. Don't touch them. Don't." And he was struggling. Fighting with every inch of his being for self-control.
As the two of you fall into a slightly tense silence, you make a small movement to breaking Spencer’s self made barrier as you edge your pinky finger towards his own, just barely brushing his skin as you keep your eyes plastered on the opposite wall.
His eyes follow your fingers as they inch their way closer and closer to his. And when - at long last - you make contact, Spencer freezes. Time seems to just stand still as his eyes are transfixed on the single point of contact between your fingers and his.
He doesn't move, he doesn't speak. He just watches.
Over 200 breeds of bacteria are passed through people’s hands for every second they’re in contact.
But he can’t seem to pull himself away.
Because this is the connection he seeks. This is the release he needs. And finally, finally he gets it.
You continue to gently bridge the gap as your pinky finger links itself with Spencer’s, squeezing it with a gentle pressure as you try desperately to stop your eyes from averting back to him.
The second your finger links with his, a dam of emotions breaks. The tears flow faster and he lets out a whimper in the back of his throat.
As soon as you touch him, he leans into the feeling and turns his hand over, pressing his palm and his other fingers against your own, wanting more, needing more of this sensation that he's been starved of for so long.
You respond enthusiastically at his acceptance of the contact, interlacing your fingers together and giving his hand a soft squeeze as you finally bring your gaze back towards his face.
“You’re going to be alright Spencer…”
The moment your hand falls into his is a moment of sweet release. The flood gates have opened, the dam has broken, and there are no barriers between him and the overwhelming emotions he's been forced to bottle up.
And as the dam breaks so too does that small, insistent voice telling him to reject contact. That small voice that tells him he can't have physical affection.
Because that small voice is wrong.
And when you squeeze his hand he brings no hesitation into melting into you completely and burying his face into the crook of your neck.
You immediately shift to accommodate Spencer’s weight against your body, breaking the contact of your hands to pull him into a firm but comforting embrace, rubbing soft lines up and down his back as the other held his head against your shoulder.
With tears still flowing down his cheeks and his head buried in your neck, he lets out a soft, contented whimper.
His body relaxes in your embrace, and just lies there in your arms.
He's safe. He's finally safe, and it feels good. He no longer needs to hold himself together. And for the first time in years, he feels loved.
“I’ve got you…” You whisper the affirmation softly into Spencer’s hair as you rest your nose against the crown of his head.
He lets out more soft whimpers, his body relaxing as he leans into the comfort of your embrace, finally allowing himself to just let go.
He takes in big breaths, drinking in your scent as he tries to slow his breathing. He's still crying, but the tears aren't so severe anymore. He's finally started to calm down.
You lean backwards against the seat to support both of your weights comfortably as you focus on soothing Spencer through his emotions, running your fingers gently through his hair and massaging softly at his scalp.
The soft strokes against his head bring a wave of shivers, but they aren't like the shivers that he had felt when he'd been shaking so much.
These are better, these are warm and comforting, and it was like the tension was leaving his body from his head all the way down to his toes.
It feels good, it feels right.
Your touch was healing, and his whole body is relaxing in the gentle massage of your fingers.
“when was the last time you got a full night’s rest Spence..?” The question is soft against his ear as you continue to gently scratch and massage Spencer’s scalp, pulling him slightly towards you with your other arm to secure him safely in your lap.
“I… A while ago…” His words were hushed and sleepy, the exhaustion evident in the slight rasp that was present in his voice. He's been so caught up in the case and the work that he hasn't given a moment's thought to taking care of himself.
He's running on caffeine and willpower. He’s exhausted.
“You should get some sleep…” You carefully adjust the way yo two are sat until you are lying flat on your back with Spencer splayed out on top of you, burying himself in your presence at every point possible.
“I will…”
He's lying.
And based on the fact that his eyes are still squeezed tight against you and the way he's practically buried his body into yours it's clear that even he knows that he's lying.
There's no way that he can sleep right now. Not when he's finally feeling safe. When he's finally found comfort. He plans to bask in it for as long as possible.
“I’ll still be here when you wake up Spencer,” You know that he knows that you know he’s lying. “Get some rest,”
"But-"
He wants to hold this moment, to cling to this moment, trying to delay the passing of time just a little longer.
"I-“
He falters, realising that he's fighting against losing an argument that has already ended. He forces himself to breathe in and out in a slow and deliberate way as he resigns himself to the inevitability of falling asleep.
“…promise?”
He sounds less like a genius and more like a scared child when he says those words. A child who wants to be reassured. Who wants to be told that everything will be okay. That he'll be taken care of when he wakes up from his slumber.
“I promise.”
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moondirti · 20 days
Text
sorry to the soft simon lovers but i am fixating on the idea of him being too abrasive for greater society. no, hear me out. he can't be normal after what he’s been through. after what he's done.
cw: dead dove. sadism. inferred sexism and stalking. punitive harassment. idk guys he's gross. 18+ MDNI
he's just a little too odd, grim, ugly, cruel, rude. he stares too long and makes jokes that strike the wrong chord in most. he's into things that are not as sexual as they are humiliating to his partners, and can not be satisfied by any relationship his therapist would deem as healthy. even physically, he's torn in all the wrong places. his scars aren’t rugged but almost painful to look at. his hands are huge and calloused and 60 grit sandpaper against soft skin. his nose is crooked. his hair is shorn short. he has a mean smile, watery eyes.
the one thing keeping him from being completely ostracised is the flag on his arm, the one he fights for. but it's like putting a tarp over some horrible, disfigured mess – you can still see the general shape of it underneath. most shrug it off as fine, go figure. you teach a soldier to kill and they cope by being killers. it's funny because simon's issues began way before he enlisted – he spoors it back to conception, when his father gave him a part of himself that can never be scoured clean. the military is just where he resides to conceal the stink of miasma he'll never rid of. piss over piss. putting a reason to the barbarity.
for a while, it's enough. he sticks to the corners. for all his sadism, he's not keen on subjecting the general public to his complications. he's smart enough to separate good from what makes him feel good. he only interacts with others like him – price, mostly, who's better at playing pretend but has issues that bury their roots just as deep. or maybe he's able to see simon for what he really is, and the novelty of not having to bite his tongue is enough to form a gossamer bridge of friendship. he sleeps with masochists who don't know what's good for them, all of them men (though it never pays when they're into what he's inflicting). in between missions, he'll disappear to his shitty apartment that he pays for in cash and drink himself to oblivion as he scrolls through a deprecating XXX site.
if he gets inebriated enough, he'll open up tinder and swipe through the birds advertising themselves, as if he were the holy arbitrator of what's attractive. safe because he made it so that no one would match with him; his profile is blank. no bio, no age. Riley as his first name and a picture of a shutterstock german shepherd because having one photo was a requirement.
the lifestyle probably exacerbates his problems.
maybe that's why he reaches a point of no return when he gets a text late one night. he doesn't give his number to anyone, so the only app it could be from–
your dog's cute. what's his name?
it's to his sloshed astonishment that someone swiped right on him. not even him, but a barebones, dodgy profile he curated to keep everyone at arms length when he chooses to indulge in his destructive habits. you're cute too, suspiciously darling and a whole open book – five pictures, a colourful description and your city of residence. you cannot be short of options, certainly not enough to drive you to a point of desperation, so there's no mistaking what this is.
you're setting up a little pet project. something to bat at like a cat does a ball of yarn, with no intention to commit or ever see him in real life. perhaps you chose him because there’s nowhere to go but up. or because his disinterest seems glaringly obvious, and a simple risk assessment told you that you wouldn't suffer an obsessive stalker if you ever chose to ghost him.
unfortunately for you, that couldn't be further from the truth. that simple question is enough to push him over the edge.
he's tired of holding back.
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tayytayy12 · 1 month
Text
I hate it here (a lot less when I’m with you) | OP81 x Reader
Summary - Reader just got out of a mildly toxic relationship and released a song about what her coping mechanism was during that time, but when her new relationship gets leaked by the paparazzi, she decides to show off her new favourite person.
Warnings | Mentions of a past toxic relationship/ breakup, swearing
FaceClaim | Gracie Abrams
Requested | Yes - No
Type | SMAU
Yourusername
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Liked by | AaronDessner, PheobeBridgers and 2,987,425 others
Tagged | @/AaronDessner
Yourusername | Long Pond Studios has always been a place where I’ve let my emotions and feelings guide my songwriting completely, every song that I’ve written and recorded in this place has been a complete raw reflection of my feelings, and I’m forever grateful that I can trust you enough to share them all with you without the slightest moment of hesitation. That’s why, I’m surprise releasing my brand new song, ‘I hate it here’ now. This song is about a method I’ve used to cope for the past few years of my life when I wasn’t in the best situation, and I hope that it will help any of you who are or were in the same situation I was. This song was made with my soulmate of a collaborator, chosen friend, found family of mine, Aaron and were so incredibly proud of it and we can’t wait for you to hear it. Sorry for being away for so long, I love you 🤍
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User1 - OMFG SHES ALIVE !!!
User2 - ONLY TOOK FIVE MONTHS TO CONFIRM YOU’RE ALIVE AND BREATHING
AaronDessner - My favourite one together so far 🤍
Yourusername - Love you forever 🤍
User3 - WTFDYM ‘I HATE IT HERE’ EXPLAIN?
User4 - GO LISTEN TO IT ITS SOOOOOOOOOO GOOD
User5 - A SURPRISE DROP? WE’RE SPOILED
User6 - When Aarons a co-writer AND the producer, you know for a fact the song will change your life (and make the therapy bill triple)
Liked by author
User7 - Girl don’t apologise
User8 - FR like she gets cheated on, takes a brake and then apologises to us 😭 like girl it’s okay
JackAntanoff - *Alexa play Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo*
Yourusername- Your times coming synth man 🤫 LOVE YOU STILL
User9 - WDYM HIS TIME IS COMING YOU CRYPTIC WOMAN
User10 - “I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind.” That’s all I have to say.
User11 - Y/n could write Romeo and Juliet but Shakespeare couldn’t write I hate it here
User11 - “I place you need a key to get to, the only one is mine” girly I hope someone makes you want to make a copy one day
Yourusername - God I love you lmao
User11 - OMFG Y/n loves me I can die happy
User12 - “tell me something awful, like you are a poet.” BC HE ALWAYS PAINTED HER BLUE SKYS THE DARKEST GREY, RUINING HER DAY BY TELLING HER AWFUL SHIT LIKE HES A TORTURED POET !!!!!! (I knew Coney Island wasn’t fictional you fucking delusional people, no one in a happy relationship writes that shit 💕💕💕)
User13 - “This man made me feel worthless.” Y/EX/N ISTG WHEN I FIND YOU. COUNT UR MINUTES
User14 - “I'm lonely but I'm good, I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine” bitch where did you find my diary
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Yourusername
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Liked by, SabrinaCarpenter, OscarPiastri and 2,191,910 others
Tagged | @/SabrinaCarpenter
Yourusername - I’m sorry who’s this woman debuting at no.1 on the billboard hot one hundred? My god it is me, I can’t believe this, I love you I love you I love you thank you so so much from the bottom of my heart, I mean it, I really do. MY GOD I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. (And my baby with her first top ten entry, I love you Sabby, Go stream espresso, it is that sweet 🤍💕) OKAY ONE LAST THANK YOU. 💕🤍💕🤍💕
Okay I lied but being among names like Beyoncé, Ariana Grande, SZA and Kendrick Lamar is one of the biggest honours ever, I’m huge fans of them all and to be in the same space as them is an honour no words can express, I love you all, the most caring sweet fans on the whole planet 💕💕💕💕
(And yes, it was a reference to a physical key, this is it)
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User14 - We made the right one famous guys
User15 - I’m actually crying, when did she stop being our little secret
SabrinaCarpenter - My biggest fan 🩷
Yourusername - Your biggest fan 🩷
User16 - Oscar in the likes for what?
User17 - Who?
User18 - Oscar Piastri, he’s a 23 yr old f1 driver
User19 - What is vroom vroom boy doing here
AaronDessner - Truly blessed to work with you
Yourusername - I’m the blessed one don’t even
User20 - Only y/n could send a five minute long, slow, alt pop song with a main piano background, basically a depressing lullaby bop, to number one above all these TikTok songs
User21 - She’s actually adorable
OscarPiastri - Been on repeat!
Liked by author
User22 - UM HELLO WHAT ARE U DOING HERE LITTLE ORANGE MAN?
User23 - This is all bc of me btw
Celebrity.updates
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Liked by, user24, and 82,828 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername @/OscarPiastri
Celebrity.updates - NEW COUPLE!!! Fast upcoming pop star, Y/n Y/l/n (21) seen out late at night on the streets of London with Formula one driver, Oscar Piastri (23), according to the source of these pictures the two were laughing and running around the streets together, when Oscar caught up to her and hugged her to him and kissed her. Rumours say that Y/n met Piastri through her ex partner who’s an engineer for f1 team Alpine, the pair seem to be quite smitten and loving with each other. What’s your thoughts on this?
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User25 - WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN
User26 - Posting these photos is bad enough, but tagging them in it is crazy
User28 - Neither of them have even been hinting at a relationship at all, they clearly didn’t want anyone to know yet
User29 - Can’t these sickos just let them live, they’re people too
User30 - Whoever took these is messed up
User31 - They do look rlly happy together though
User32 - The fact that her ex is an alpine engineer makes this situation so much more funny and interesting
SabrinaCarpenter - You’re actually disgusting
User33 - TELL THEM SAB
User34 - The fact that she’s not even wrong
User35 - the fact that she defends Y/n with no hesitation
User36 - The friendship we all need in our lives
Yourusername
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Liked by, OscarPiastri, SabrinaCarpenter and 2,928,198 others
Tagged | @/OscarPiastri
Yourusername - I hate it here a lot less when I’m with you 🤍 my favourite polite cat xxxx
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LandoNorris- Finally. The pair of you at the paddock hiding in MY divers room bc you were scared someone would see you in Oscar’s. Sigh.
Yourusername - You love me
User37 - OH MY GOD
User38 - I need to know the bears name
OscarPiastri- She named him Gerald
Yourusername - Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s our son
OscarPiastri - Sorry baby
User39 - Hysterical
OscarPiastri - My favourite smiling dog 🤍
Yourusername- Excuse me did you just call me a bitch
OscarPiastri- NO I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT
User40 - The dynamic is already everything to me
User41 - Even his GF knows he’s a polite cat
Yourusername - He so is (he’s in denial)
User42 -“ I hate it here a lot less with you” Shut the fuck up
OscarPiastri
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Liked by, Yourusername, LoganSargeant and 1,872,001 others
Tagged | @/Yourusername
OscarPiastri - She made me a copy 🗝️🤍
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User43 - Someone sedate me
User44 - SHE. MADE. HIM. A. COPY.
User45 - WTFFFTTFTFTD
User46 - Literally the ultimate Oscar on Alpine revenge
Liked by author
Yourusername - I don’t need my secret gardens, or my lunar valleys anymore, because I have you 🤍
OscarPiastri- My favourite and only girl 🤍
User47 - I’m taking a nap on the highway
///////
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byuntrash101 · 11 months
Text
dirty laundry & wet dreams
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reader x perv!han smut | mdni 2.4k jisung has a big fat crush on you and the only way he can cope with his feeings is to jack off to the thought of you with the clothes he's stolen nsfw tags under the cut
perv!jisung, roommates AU, somnophilia (that means non con), bodywhorship (f), panty snifffer!han, scent kink, jisung is just obssesed with you tbh, jisung takes pictures of you while you sleep, getting caught kink, groping, masturbation (m), oral (f), squirting, cum eating
a/n: i have been thinking about this for a long a time. thank you everyone that voted for han i think the perv thing suits him he just extra pervy and we love to see it <3 also dont mind me being obsessed with his hair (im fine) (no im not)
DISCLAIMER: PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE TAGS AND TO CLICK OFF IF ANYTHING SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING YOU WOULDN’T ENJOY.
skz masterlist | navigation
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Jisung sighed in frustration again. Still nothing! He’s been salvaging your laundry basket for this past week and there’s nothing he’s interested in. 
He settled for your dirty gym tank top and stuffed it in his pocket before leaving the shared bathroom and heading to his room.
You see, Jisung has had a silly little crush on you for a year now and that’s the only way he knows that helps him cope. That way he can act normal to you during the day, doing standard roommate stuff, like sharing a meal or watching anime together on your tiny laptop screen set on the coffee table in your student flat.
That way he can do all these without catching his eyes plunging into your cleavage showing every time you bent down a little to scoop food into your mouth. Or he can keep his hands to himself when you're sitting so close to him in the small couch, when your beautiful thighs are pressed to his own and he feels this rush through his body, grabbing a cushion to hide away the growing problem in his groin. His thumb lightly brushing over it under the cushion as he laughs at the show and comments casually on it with you. As if it’s nothing. 
Because he knows at night he’ll swipe your PJ's and press them to his face as if he was ready to absorb them through his nostrils. Snort your scent like a drug and let it take him to ecstasy, his mind traveling to a place where you are his, where he can smell and taste you. where he can feel your heated lips on his, where he can hear your blazing skin clashing against his, where he can feel how tight you are, how wet you are just for him, trembling, shaking, moaning for him.
But tonight it doesn't work. He took the sport top off his face out of frustration. He stayed there immobile laid on his bed as the heavy and hot  summer air engulfed itself through his cracked window. 
The smell doesn't do it for him… Of course it’s nice, it smells like you! But it also smelled like perfume and deodorant… that he didn’t like he liked your true smell, like nature intended it! To him you didn't need these artifices, your most natural self was perfect.
That’s why he would always steal your PJ’s because usually you hop in the shower at night then hop into your night clothes and spend the night in them, beautifully infusing them with your divine scent and refined flavour and Jisung would steal them in the morning to soil them at night. That was his perfect routine. He doesn't know why you’re keeping your dirty PJ’s in your room now, not putting them in the basket every morning like you used to. 
But tonight he decides it’s too much, it’s been weeks he hasn’t been able to take a good whiff of your scent and he decides he’s just going to get the clothes directly from your bedroom. Before he has the chance to chicken out he slips on his shorts back and heads to your room.
He almost levitates in the hall. He feels a light warm breeze on his bare chest as he tiptoes to your room. 
Thankfully your door is pressed shut not locked he doesn't even have to push on the creaking handle just lightly push in the door. But his heart stops when he spots you.
You are sound asleep, the city lights seeping from your open window, the light summer wind gently blowing on your heated and soft skin. Your breath quietly whistles as the air slither in and out of your lips between your teeth. Your hair beautifully spilled onto the pillow. You are absolutely breathtaking and also completely nude.
Jisung hears his heart beat in his ears, the accelerated blood flow drilling in his eardrums, making his chest heave up and down silently, sucking in one shaky breath after the other.
He only wanted to swipe a top and maybe a pair of panties from you he never ever even dared to hope to find you like this. Spread on your bed in all your glory. Never has he had the privilege to have such a view so he admired your body for long seconds, without a care for the discarded PJ’s next to your bed. Those were the last things on Jisung’s mind right now. 
He was only obsessed with you, with the way you breathed so calmly, with the way the light breeze made your perfect nipples harden, with the way your heavenly face seemed so peaceful, so tranquil with both your arms resting beside it as you laid on your back, your breast lightly spilling to your sides. Your beautiful legs extended in front of you. You looked fabricated, too perfect to be earthly. A piece of art, a masterpiece, a perfection only achievable by God themselves. 
Jisung swallowed thickly as he velvet traded to your bedside, entranced by your form. His eyes trailed down from your neck to your breasts to your stomach and even lower. What he wouldn’t give for you to spread your legs. Just a little so he could have a small peak at the object of his every thought. The secret and mysterious wonder he has been only able to imagine for this past year. If only you could just move, just a little bit.
Squeeeeek
One of the boards of the wooden floor creaked as Jisung stepped on it. He froze in his tracks, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows knitting on his forehead. He stayed completely still and held his breath, his eyes instantly snapping back to your face. And he prayed, he prayed so piously in silence that you wouldn’t wake up to see him hunched over you like a creep.
And his prayers were answered. You didn’t wake up, instead you just lightly squirmed and parted your thighs.
Jisung’s jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes fell lower on your frame again, only this time it was right on your center. The brunette couldn’t believe his eyes he couldn’t process. You were absolutely beautiful. Every inch of you, from head to toe, was perfection and he couldn’t help but to stare you down right between the legs. 
But the uncomfortable feeling of his shorts restricting his hard on brought him back. There was no way he could just swipe the PJ’s now and go back. He couldn’t do it, whatever it was that he was trying to do in his room and failing miserably he had to do right here, right now. Why would he go back and imagine you when he could simply look at you?
With a shaky breath and trembling hands he whipped his painfully hard cock out. He didn’t even bother tugging down the shorts, only passing the member through one of the legs of the shorts. 
He grabbed his dick at the base firmly and slowly pulled his closed fist up to his tip, pressing the precum out of the slit.
Fuckkkk
He wanted to say this outloud but he possibly couldn’t. He couldn't risk waking you up.
A large bead of precum rolled out of his slit and down his shaft which he caught between his fingers, picking up the pace.
He wanted to go slower; he wanted to take his time looking at you and milking himself for you. But he couldn’t. He was too riled up, looking at you peacefully sleeping, unsuspecting of what he was doing right over you. The adrenaline pumped through his veins as his fist did around his hard cock. 
Jisung accelerated again, eyebrows meeting on his forehead as he felt himself inching closer to his release, he let out a barely audible grunt and immediately his eyes snapped up to your face which was still tranquil. He didn’t stop jacking himself off, soon the slick noises of his precum coated dick erupted but he couldn’t stop and you were so profoundly asleep that you seem like you didn’t notice the agitation around you.
Jisung felt himself twitch in his hand; he was so close. So close for you. 
Y/n, I’m cumming for you
Jisung screamed in his mind only moments before he crossed the edge, his upper body shuddering from ecstasy as he tensed his thighs, big spurts of thick white cum squirting from his pulsing and throbbing cock as he let his jaw hang loose. Thick ropes of hot cum crashing all over your stomach, thighs and even between your parted legs lazily dripping over your folds.
He was so entranced by your nude body layed and spreaded out for him to see that he didn’t think about the mess he would create if he let himself go right here but it was too late now and the mess was done. 
He fished out his phone from the pocket of his shorts. If he was already deep in it he might as well take a souvenir. He checked approximately two hundred times that his phone was on mute and that he didn’t have the flash on before snapping a few pictures of this breathtaking scene. Your body as his canvas and his warm cum as the art. 
Jisung started to panic when you started to squirm again, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he looked over the room in a hurry maybe hoping to find a rag of sorts but there was nothing and he just stood there with his lip between his teeth once again praying that he didn't wake you. But fortunately you settled down again.
So that's when he had the craziest but possibly most brilliant idea he’s ever had. The only way to thoroughly leave your room without leaving clues was to eat his own cum off you. 
He thought about it for a second. If he used one of your clothes hanging on your chair, you would certainly notice the white stains later when you were going to do your laundry. If he took back the piece of clothing and washed it himself you would also notice your shirt disappear and magically reappear clean and folded…
So with this reasoning he kneeled on the floor at the edge of the bed and stuck his tongue out, inching closer to your stomach. He laid his tongue flat and swiped it across your burning skin, he scooped the thick and sticky cum right into his mouth. The strong bitter and salty taste took over his tastebuds. He then went down to clean his mess on your thighs and finally to your center.
He swiped his tongue across your folds. Much to his surprise -and contentment- he tasted something else blending with his own taste. 
You.
He looked back for a second to notice the slight glimmering of your slick barely peaking between your folds. Jisung couldn't hold back from bringing his nose to your center, taking a big whiff of you. 
So that’s what sex with you would smell like. He carefully licked again. That's how it would taste like. Both of your flavours and scents beautifully mixing to result in this intoxicating cocktail that was making Jisung’s head spin.
The addicting flavour spread through his mind like wildfire setting his soul ablaze. He licked again, this time a little less gentle and right on your clit.
And he froze when you let out a barely audible, very quiet little moan. Jisung felt his skin crawl back onto his flesh, the hairs of his forearms standing. He looked at you again, you were still sound asleep.
Was it possible that somehow you were feeling him between your thighs while you were still dreaming. Jisung didn’t know. The only thing that was certain to him was that he needed more of you. He licked again and he was rewarded by another moan followed by the brief mention of a word. A word he heard a thousand times hanging from your sweet lips. A word so mundanely banal. His name.
His name slipped out of your pretty mouth to crash onto him, hitting him right in the chest. His name said so perfectly.
“Jisung…aaah” you moaned softly, almost whimpering.
He froze again and carefully peeled his eyes off your center to look at your face. But you appeared to be still sleeping. So it meant you were dreaming of him. Your body felt good and your mind chose him to explain this feeling. 
He couldn’t take it anymore he started to swirl his tongue around your clit. Everything was just too much. Your divine nude form layed on the bed, your smell, your taste and now your voice moaning his name.
Jisung didn't want this to ever stop. He started to move his tongue rapidly around your now swollen little bundle of nerves as he jerked off his cock again with both his hands. Rutting inside his fists like a street dog in heat as he feasted on your taste, lapping at your entrance and plunging his tongue inside of you to swipe his tongue back up to your swollen clit, sucking around the erected nub until you were breathless, pearls of sweat rolling on your forehead. 
Jisung felt you throb on his tongue and suddenly your body tenses up, your head thrown back and you squirted all over his open and welcoming mouth. He relished on your cum, swallowing your release in big gulps as he made himself cum again with you, careful to only spill his seed in his hand this time around. Mind numbing euphoria coursing through his body from his lower stomach. He gently guided you through your orgasm, softly lapping at your throbbing clit until your body went limp.
***
Jisung started eating breakfast before you this morning. He couldn't help but smirk when you emerged from the hall with small groggy eyes.
“Hey sleepy head!” he greeted you with this signature adorable smile, his fluffy cheeks rising like bread dough. You responded by a sleepy groan.
“Actually I think I dreamt of you” You frowned trying to recall the blurry memories of the dream…
Jisung’s wholesome smile turned into a sly smirk as he attempted to hide it in his cereal bowl.
“Oh really?”
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a/n: sooo how was it????? did you like it??? my first han fic and it broke me tbh. like im sucker for perv han i just love him okay? this blog is the official perv han lover support group <3
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