#apologises in advance in case i've forgotten anyone

[reiderwriter]

hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw

prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."

A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!

Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)

You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.

You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.

But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.

After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.

“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”

He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.

You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.

“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.

And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.

But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.

He used every excuse to put his hands on you.

He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.

You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.

He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.

You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.

His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.

You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.

Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.

And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.

You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.

So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.

“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.

“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.

“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.

“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”

“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.

He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.

“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”

You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.

The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.

He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.

He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.

You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.

You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.

He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.

Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.

With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.

Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.

He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.

“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.

“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.

“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.

He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.

His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.

“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.

You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.

The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.

You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.

Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.

Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.

You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.

Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.

There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.

He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.

When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.

A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.

“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.

He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.

His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.

Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.

Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.

“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.

Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.

Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.

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

[eliottdemauries]

GOD PRIDE MND PEEPS.

#psa: i know both nico and sander are pan but their pansexuality is never mentioned hence why it says bi #skam #skamfr #skam france #skamit #skam italia #skam españa #skames #skamnl #wtfock #druck #skam austin #* #skamverse #skamverseedits #apologises in advance in case i've forgotten anyone

[walsiegirl]

You don't have to answer this question if you don't want to, but it's been bothering my mind quite a bit lately - how did you come to your conclusion in believing Geoffrey to be innocent in his case? I'm not judging or hating, I'm just curious. This is all coming from a fan new to him and his work, who really admires him but is feeling unsure. Again, you don't have to answer if you're not comfortable. I've looked at both sides and I'm just very, very confused as to what the truth really is, so I figured getting an older fan's perspective would help me understand anything I might be missing. Thank you in advance.🙏

Hi Anon! Sorry it took me a while to get back to you, I’ve been away and stuff.

This is a tough one and there honestly isn’t a right or wrong answer; it’s absolutely fine to be unsure and I cannot say one hundred percent he is innocent, nor can I say he is guilty. The way the case was initially reported was unfair to both parties, and they both went through essentially a trial by media, with others jumping in either with their own accusations or opinions, before anything really came to court. From a legal perspective, yes Geoffrey has won his case against the newspaper as there was, to over simplify it, little evidence to the contrary, which was a relief for those of us who have always admired him. But does that mean he hasn’t done anything wrong at all? It’s truly impossible to say.

When I very first heard about the allegations, I was confused, devastated and I wondered if I had got him completely wrong from the start. It’s taken time, reflection, and coming to terms with the fact that even people one admires may fuck up some times (some bigger than others) to help me feel, if not sure about things, then at least able to come to terms with it all to a degree. So straight off, I’m sorry I can’t give you a definitive answer, but I can ramble around the points that are central to the reason I still feel able to enjoy his work and the memories he gave me.

Firstly, I think Geoffrey Rush has enough integrity as a person to own up if he’s fucked up. Again, I’m going on my gut, it’s fine to disagree with me and people will. When presented with the allegations, he denied them, but he also stepped down from any positions of responsibility he felt he should not hold whilst being under scrutiny, and also apologised to former co-stars if he had made them feel uncomfortable with his work methodology. That isn’t him being silent and not acknowledging the problem, it’s taking a stand to start to work through it without being arrogant enough to go on as normal. It’s about starting a discourse.

Rolling on from that, I think the “making co-stars feel uncomfortable/sexually harassing co-stars” is probably the area of contention. I don’t personally feel or believe that Geoff would intentionally go out of his way to demean, oppress or harass people - again I am open to being proved wrong, this is just gut feeling and intuition - but Geoffrey is a naturally cheeky, playful, possibly even controversial character who I could easily see pushing boundaries in professional spheres - perhaps being overly extravagant, overly touchy-feely, overly jokey. This could easily make people feel uncomfortable and harassed. I think sometimes it can be too easy when you’re successful to become complacent and forget that not everyone is onboard with your ways of doing things and ways of being, with your self confidence and ego. A lot of people, myself included, are very good at being polite and tolerating things they find uncomfortable because they’re too worried/scared/tolerant to say otherwise. If you’re faced with an A-list actor who has a lot of clout, then by all means you may feel unable to speak up about feeling uncomfortable or not enjoying the way they treat you or work with you. It’s like being faced with the person at work who has been established at your company for a long time and is being overly familiar with you - do you dare tell the boss their favourite is too much for you? Probably not, you want to keep your job. And this kind of power imbalance may be where the issue lies.

So you are saying the allegations are all true? you’re probably asking now. No but I can easily see where there are lots of grey areas in this debacle rather than two black and white possibilities of guilty and not. Things may have been taken out of context or blown out of proportion - or not, who knows? When you’re acting and in close bodily contact with other people, and in theatre/film/tv this is a constant, there is a high risk you might touch people inappropriately. Was there true harassment in this instance, or were actions misjudged? Were comments said in jest, in humour, in affection misconstrued as creepy and inappropriate, or was that their real intent? When you only have two contrasting views, it’s impossible to know the truth. Also everything an individual experiences is relative - what one person may feel is harassment, the next may think is a funny joke or not even notice. This is where consent and communication come in - it’s important people, particularly those in positions of “power”, check in on their other halves/colleagues/co-stars once in a while to make sure everything is ok. If there isn’t trust and communication, then you end up with dumpster fires like this.

So what else can I ramble about? 

People fuck up. All the time. The difference with being accused of fucking up when you’re an A-list Oscar winner is that the whole world will know about it and lynch you for it, regardless of your guilt, and the internet is very good for spreading information quickly, both truth and lies and everything in between. Though it is fine to hold people to account and question accusations, it’s worth remembering that we all have fucked up in our lives; not all to the same degree, and some things it is utterly fine to not to forgive someone for, but I think one of the reasons I came around about things was that I can think of a few occasions in my life where I have royally fucked up, and if I had been famous I would not have lived it down. As I’m not famous though, the fuck-ups were resolved to a greater or lesser degree and now are mostly forgotten - except by me who can never forgive myself and will think about it until I die. I guess I just realised that I cannot judge because I have been a dick in my time, too. It’s not an excuse, I’m not trying to say that fuck ups are excusable if they have happened, but again there has to be a point where we move on or else we just get stuck feeling suicidal and not being able to recover. The important thing is to make amends and face your mistakes if they have been made. Can we let celebrities fuck up and come back? Depends on the fuck up of course, and sometimes it may be they lose their liberties, they need to regain trust, but sometimes there can be rehabilitation and success again - like Robert Downey Jr.

And though positive past conduct does not mean a person will never do or hasn’t done wrong, a lot of people who have worked with Geoff either as a co-star, or have directed him, etc, have voiced their support for him and enjoyed working with him. On a personal note, I will always have ridiculously positive memories of meeting him and writing to him. It’s a totally different kettle of fish to working professionally with him, of course, but I can’t forget that during the 2000s he used to like to keep a distant eye on the discourse between his fans online; he liked to know if his fans would be at such-and-such an event, and he even brought me a promo book about The Golden Age as a thank you when I dragged my arse down to Norfolk in the UK to see him at an event in 2007; he often felt more friend than celebrity to us. He was polite and curious, asked little questions like what you studied at university, what dog you had, what your username meant. He was exceptionally trusting of us, too.  And I just remember how chill he could be - I remember him texting his wife when a group of us met him in NY after his play there, or he’d step out for a smoke, and you’re like that’s a normal person, he’s checking in with his fam, doing his own thing, but he’s still got time for us. He was always a down to earth, friendly guy, beyond generous with his time and we all as a fan community felt appreciated by him. It was beyond cool. And I can’t forget that kindness, the fact he made me feel that I mattered. His benevolence has naturally garnered much loyalty in me.

And finally I also ask myself, if this was a family member, or a close friend, would I abandon them in bad weather? And the answer is no. Even if they fucked up badly, you help family and friends get through things, you help them rehabilitate, you support them making amends, and support them making reparations to anyone who has been hurt or wronged if need be. When I have fucked up, I haven’t been abandoned; yes reprimanded, yes cowed, but I’ve been given the opportunity to make amends and bounce back.

So long answer is, there is no answer. I have never affirmed or denied his innocence or guilt because I can’t. It has to come down to gut feeling in the end and trying to weigh up the mass of information and misinformation. It’s about invading the professional and private lives of people we probably have no business looking into. It’s about understanding that celebrities are just people, and they can potentially fuck up as badly as we do, but they may also be innocent of accusations like we can be too. It’s accepting that we can’t know any truths unless solid evidence is presented either way. So at present, I will continue to enjoy his films, his tv shows, his legacy, and appreciate everything he ever did for me either directly, or indirectly through his work. But I am also open-minded enough that if any hard evidence ever presented itself to the contrary, there may come a day I need to reappraise my position. But hopefully he is true to his word and to his success in winning his case, and he can work toward recovery and potentially even acting again, though the blow has been great, both to him and his accuser. He may never work again. My greatest fear is that if he is genuinely completely innocent of everything, then he has had the greatest joy in his life taken from him. I try not to dwell on that too much.

I hope that diatribe helps. It’s the elephant in the room that is hard to acknowledge but no one can tell you how to feel about it. It has to come from your own heart and soul. I also appreciate there are many other elements to consider but I can’t possibly cover all bases. It’s probably worth saying that I have been a victim of being groomed by a man so I understand the importance of women or vulnerable peoples having a voice, but that doesn’t necessarily mean every accusation against men is true, either.