#he's got the lower back dimples 🥹

[justc2world]

Lord, I'm not your strongest soldier

📸 Shiga Sports Japan Instagram

[reidsrambles]

Something More and Second Chances

Chapter 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader // Second chance

Description: You're stunned when your former friends with benefits shows up at your new job—and nearly a decade after you ghosted him. It turns out, he works in the same building, and he definitely hasn't forgotten about you. Will your apologies be enough? What happens if he does forgive you? Does time truly heal all wounds? (Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI], smut, friends with benefits, oral sex (F receiving), PIV sex, condomless sex, IUD birth control, mention of abortion (in the context of being on the same page prior to sex), riding, soft dom M, praise kink F.

This fic is quite emotionally heavy, and both Spencer and Reader delve deep into past traumas. None is current. If any of these topics may be triggering or upsetting to you, please skip this one: child abuse, child abandonment, attachment issues, foster care, adoption, CPS, bullying, trust issues, mental health issues, misunderstandings, ghosting, and Reader mentions that she possibly committed emotional infidelity in the past, thinking about Spencer while with another partner.

A/N: This is my (very late) fic for @imagining-in-the-margins's FWB challenge! Life's been a bit crazy lately. Your girl now has a boyfriend who takes up a lot of her time. 🥹👉👈

Names used: Baby, good girl

Words (this chapter): 1,706

Words (total): 12,462

There’s only one person you had hoped to never face again in this lifetime, and he’s standing a mere twenty feet in front of you.

You hear him before you see him. His laugh echoes off the walls of the large, airy library, and the normal hushed murmur goes silent in response. Working the front desk today, you have nowhere to hide. 

A flush sweeps across his cheeks as he scans the room. A few people at tables nearby lift their heads but lower them just as quickly. Nobody can be bothered to care. Nobody except you.

As you wait for his gaze to fall upon your face, time lags to a snail’s pace. An inescapable cataclysm of fate. 

This must be punishment for some unspeakable crime committed in a past lifetime. Or maybe this is just karma biting you in the ass? It has to be. How else could he be here? This place is locked down like Fort Knox. 

He bounces on his feet, looking at the floor. Left, right, left, right. He was never that good at staying still, especially when nervous. An FBI badge dangling from his belt loop catches your attention as he shifts. A firearm is holstered at his hip on the other side of his body.

He belongs here. 

“Okay, Garcia. Well, I just got down here, so I��ll call you back once I find it,” he says quietly. 

Realization crosses his face as soon as his eyes land on you. The thump of the kick drum in your chest rattles your body, and everything in your peripheral fades until all that exists is him.

He presses his lips together and slides his cell phone into his pocket.

The last time you saw those lips, you traced the crease of his dimple with your finger, without hurry. Early morning sun. His sleepy smile. He was so happy. The soft, thin cotton bed sheet draped over your naked bodies, and Spencer looked at you like you were his everything; his worshipping stare turned you translucent. 

The light caught his face, and the blue-green of his eyes glistened with an auric sheen. As you watched the dance of color, a vice grip tightened around your rib cage. In that one brief moment, something clicked within you. 

How hadn’t you seen it before? 

A newfound clarity painted him maroon. A flag waved in warning. That was the morning you left without another word. That was the morning you had to accept that, for his sake and yours, you’d never be able to see Spencer Reid again.

This has to be some sick joke. 

You snap out of your daze and look at the new Academy recruit standing in front of the desk, still patiently waiting for an answer to his question. “I’m so sorry about that. I had completely lost my train of thought,” you laugh, trying to maintain your professionalism. 

“So, on the lower level,” you continue briskly, “is the law library. That’s where you’ll find law books, periodicals, and any government documents. Those have to be used in-library, though, and you can’t check them out. Older, more sensitive documents—and anything requiring special authorization—are kept in climate-controlled, locked storage, so you’d have to inquire with one of us regarding any of those items. The 2nd floor is where we keep any books designated for leisure reading. Other than that, if you need help to locate anything, you can come ask me or any of my colleagues.” 

Wow. Practicing that little spiel in the mirror like the dweeb you are did actually help.

You beam a smile at the kid, no older than his early-20s. To your relief, he thanks you and walks away. 

You don’t have to wonder if Spencer recognizes you. He hasn’t looked away yet.

The library’s front desk is a stocky, rectangular enclosure, dwarfed by the grandeur of the sunlight-soaked atrium. The large skylights battle it out with the building’s air-conditioning, and even though it’s a cool fall day, you have to continuously blot the dampness from your forehead to save your makeup. Suddenly, you’re far too warm for your usual blazer, though. You stand and drape the jacket over your office chair.

Still warm as an oven, you pass behind your coworker, Sarah, the other librarian working the front desk with you today, and place a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m going to be right back. Can you cover for me for a few?” you whisper. 

“Only if you cover for me later so I can get an extra smoke break in,” she says, not bothering to look away from the email she’s writing.

You shake your head. “Sure, whatever. Fine.” 

A half door built-in to the large, rectangular desk is all that separates you from the rest of the library. You walk, but Spencer remains parked until you look at him, finally acknowledging him. You jerk your head to the side, gesturing for him to follow you, and his feet finally start. 

Ironically, you met Spencer in a library. Loving parents funded your English Lit degree and living expenses—not that you ever lived anything but frugally. All through undergrad, you worked in the university’s library, pushing your little book cart around and putting things back where they belonged. All your paychecks went straight into a savings account. Your parents would eventually tire of you, and you’d be left high and dry, you’d assumed, though you never let that thought escape your subconscious.

“Who’s the lanky nerd in the corner?” your new 18-year-old, first-year coworker whispered far too loudly. She had a bad habit of being extremely blunt, you’d quickly learned. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “He’s been here most days either working or reading. Doesn’t seem to have any friends. Joann said he’s some freaky genius on his 3rd PhD, but he always puts his own books back, so I’ve never had to deal with him.” You grabbed another book and returned it to its home on the shelf, hoping that if you didn’t look her way, she’d drop the conversation. Quietly escaping into your own thoughts while shelving was your respite. It was serenity… Until she showed up.

“Hey, freaky genius guy,” she whisper-yelled, somehow getting his attention, “my coworker thinks you’re cute!” 

Yeah, she only lasted two weeks in that position before the librarians had enough of her antics.

You mouthed an angry and confused “What the fuck?” to her before going to apologize. He was so awkward, but he did try to keep the conversation going. An enigma. Maybe the loner didn’t want to be so lonely? In regular chats, you learned a bit more about the guy. Though, on the surface, you had very little in common, you and Spencer ended up being better matched than previously thought, and you became fast friends. 

The conversation shifted from classic literature to niche science topics that shouldn’t have interested you, but his passion was infectious enough to capture you. He taught you how to play chess, and you’d sneak over to his table mid-shift to get a few turns in at a time. You always lost to him, but you liked the challenge and started skimming chess books at the library for different plays. One day, he related something in the conversation to Star Wars. When you admitted to never having seen any of them, it led to the first of many movie nights at your place. He showed up with his personal copy of A New Hope and a big bag of popcorn.  

Those horrid two weeks of babysitting the coworker were good for something, at least. It was strange, but nice, to have a friend.

Beep, the card reader chimes. The green light flashes, and you push into an empty conference room of the library. Spencer follows you inside, putting a solid five-feet of distance between you.

“Hi,” is all you say. The forced chirpiness of your customer service voice is on its last legs, only a single word into this conversation. A trip to the gynecologist for a pap smear would be more fun than a conversation with a man whose heart you smashed into a million pieces like a fucking coward. 

Spencer gestures to the badge on your lanyard with a flick of his head. “You, uh—work here?”

Taking the badge between your fingers, you quickly examine it. Your mugshot-esque headshot and the required stone-cold expression are in direct contrast to the radiant smile and cheery disposition you paint on while at work. You’ve seen FBI badges on TV and in the movies, and even though yours signifies you belong to the Library and Information Services department, it still feels odd to be wearing it.

“I do, yeah. Just started two weeks ago, actually.”

He nods, rocking back and forth on his heels. Your performative amiability slips from your grasp. False pleasantries won’t work with Spencer.

“Look,” you add, “we don’t have to interact after this, if you don’t want to. One of the other librarians can help you or check you out when you stop by, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“You’re a librarian?” he asks; less like a question and more like a stunning realization. 

After you left Spencer’s apartment a decade ago, you packed up the essentials and drove eight hours home. You took leave from school, but you’re sure classmates and acquaintance assumed that you dropped out, and with only a few months left of your degree. You didn’t just cut contact with Spencer; You cut contact with everyone. 

“No,” he continues, “it’s not that. It’s just… I have so much I want to say and no idea how to say it all. I obviously wasn’t expecting to run into you.”

You keep your focus directed at the sting of your nails pressing into your palm as you attempt to steady your breathing. Work isn’t an ideal place to be crying, attempting to apologize for all the pain you caused. 

“Do you want to grab a coffee sometime and talk?” you ask sheepishly. 

“I happen to be free tonight after work, if that’s good for you?”

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” you nod, flashing him a shy smile.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

[succubusyuyu]

if you could write a drabble of jaehyun fucking y/n in the elevator.. plsplspls 🥹 (referring to the post u reposted)

the part where he looks into the elevator camera ?:! /9;8/ i almost fainted

thank you!!!

I swear I was doing my requests in order but this one just got my eyes and damn I LOVE IT 😭😭 i just needed to do it or i will go mad also thank you @multifandomslxt for the thoughts anon was talking about (i love your posts 🥹🥹

when you started dating jaehyun you thought you won the lottery, he isn't just hot and handsome, he is cute, soft, gentle, sooo nice and well, fucks you like a pornstar, you could do a checklist of places you wanted to be fucked and he happily would try to make it happen, but in a crowded elevator was never in your list.

you swear you aren't making it on purpose, the elevator was just so crowded and the only place you can fit is close to jaehyun, back on his chest making him smile when he places his hands on your waist and brings you close, so maybe it's his fault too that every time the elevator jolts your ass rub against his cock, but just because every time he brings you closer.

you didn't realize in the beginning, but soon the bulge against your ass starts to get bigger, and you know jaehyun is tempted too, because his hands start to caressing your sides a way too rough like he was holding himself back and we'll you're a good girlfriend you would never make your dear boyfriend suffer like that.

your hands find his neck to bring his face close to you, your lips find his ears and it's on that clowded elevator that you whispers, "just do it, baby."

he smirks against your cheek, "so be quiet, love, and be a good girl for me, ok?"

the sound of him undoing his belt is a way too loud, and makes everyone look at you, and he just smiles, a dimple smile making the rest of the people just bow slightly and turn their heads back, not even realizing that in the middle of it he already took his cock out and is sliding the glistening head between your thighs. you tighten your legs and feel him buck further and the back, the hot length sliding against your wet panties.

you know your cheeks are red, you can feel the heat of your face, but you can't cover it, the only thing you can cover with your prada purse is where his dick is pocking on the front of your dress, before he stops, because he does it, he would fuck your thighs until he's leaking on the tip and his cock is twitching between your soft skin to then get deep inside you, pushing your panties to the side and thrusting into you until bottomed.

jaehyun is discreet, he thrusts inside your tight pussy slowly, never fully leaving you, just going centimeters back and diving in again, everything as you watch the people leaving the elevator and his thrusts getting messier, until just one person is left and the last thrust before the person leave is so hard that you have to pretending be coughing when in reality you're almost moaning loud.

"everything ok, baby?" jaehyun asks when the woman turn to look at you.

"yes-" you cough again, when one of his hands sneaks under your dress to the front of your panties, "just the weather, it's making me sick again." he smiles gently at you as you watch the woman turn her head and leave the elevator.

jaehyun hits the button to stop the elevator, and finally he's fucking you, still discreet, but all that while looking at the elevator camera, like he's challenging someone, or just seducing, hands on your hips and thrusting in you so deep that you have to props your hand on the wall to hold yourself. beads of sweat drop down his forehead, and you bit your lower lip when his hips start to buck, telling you that he's about to come.

jaehyun brings you close and kisses your neck as he comes messily inside you, groaning low against your ear. you come untouched next, just by his dick hitting that spot inside you and filling you with his cum.

"I'm making sure they will delete the images, ok, love?" he whispers against your ear when you come back from the bliss. "or I could save it to watch later, what do you think, or own sextape." he jokes, smirking and placing a kiss on your cheek, you chuckles, it's terrible that you love his pervert ideas.

sometimes being the boss have some privileges for sure, like fuck your girlfriend on the elevator on the way to your office. you would never complain of these privileges, he probably will be eating you out on his office next anyways.

[sakuradeservedbetter91]

Bink! Can we please hear about Norman Fucking Rockwell for the WIP name game I'm intrigued

ALEX! YES SIR YOU MAY! 🥹🥰

So. This fic. Oh boy. I started writing it back when I came back to writing fanfic in 2020 after finding the lovely ShiSaku ship, and that's when I started actually interacting in fandom and talking to people and not being a lurker! Bc I've read fic for YEARS, and I've left comments and what not back when I was active on ff dot net (which also has my very old and first fanfics I wrote when I was in high school 💀).

And like, my first spicy, smutty fic I published was my KankuSaku fic after I came back to writing fanfic, BUT THIS FIC. This was the first fic where I actually wrote smut. I just never finished it before the KankuSaku one, and ofc, as is my usual now, I got a ton of other plot bunnies and fic ideas I started writing as my attention span drifted 🤣

ANYWAY, around this time is when Lana Del Rey's album Norman Fucking Rockwell!! had just come out and I was listening to it on repeat, and I got the crazy idea to write a ShiSaku fic for each song on that album bc I kept getting inspired🤣 I have a whole document of the ideas for each song.

And so, ANYWAY, long story short, this is one of my first fics I started writing and haven't finished yet bc it's a doozy and is going to be longer than initially planned.

The premise is a modern au AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES, and some mutually secret pining but also maybe they're both in denial, and also best friends with benefits turned lovers. ANYWAY.

Here's a lil snippet for your trouble and having to read all this 🥹 this is also the part of the fic where I definitely used some lines from the song 🤣 SOME SPICE AHEAD 🫡

“God damn,” Sakura panted, long pink hair spread out against her bedroom pillow. Sheet pulled up over her naked chest, forehead slicked with sweat, Sakura looked to her left and arched a brow. “I know it’s been a while for me, but god damn, Shisui.”

He smirked and gave a throaty chuckle before leaning back against her headboard, arms crossed behind his head, her gray sheets low on his hips. She bit her lip as her eyes trailed the lines of his abdomen, remembering how she was trapped beneath his body moments ago.

“God damn is right,” Shisui said, a dimpled grin still on his face as he noticed her appraisal. He raked one hand through his unkempt curls, obsidian eyes crinkled as he continued, “Now why didn’t we do that years ago? I know I’m good at sex, but it’s never been that good.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, ignoring the flutter in her heart as she turned on her side and cradled her head in her left hand. She knew why it was so good for her, but she knew it couldn’t possibly be the same reason for him.

“Shisui, years ago we weren’t even friends,” Sakura said. She looked away quickly when Shisui scoffed and reached out to poke her forehead, trying not to blush. Years ago, as a teen, Sakura had an embarrassing crush on him, but she’d never tell him that.

“Oh, come on. You, Sasuke, and Naruto were joined at the hip growing up,” Shisui started, “and Itachi and I were always there to play with you when those two brats had one of their spats.”

Sakura looked back at him and giggled, batting her eyelashes cheekily before saying, “Hmm, I remember Itachi nicely humoring me while I waited those two idiots out, but I don’t remember you. I only remember an annoying nuisance pulling on my pigtails. Must not have happened.”

“Oi, come here you,” Shisui growled playfully, leaning over and grabbing Sakura by her hips, dragging her on top of him. The sheet fell away from her chest, yet even indifferent to her bareness, Sakura still blushed as Shisui eyed her petite breasts with a grin.

Sakura steadied herself on his lap, bending her legs around his waist, hands resting on his shoulders as she looked into his hooded eyes now that she was on top of him again, nestled against his lower body. Shisui settled his hands on her waist, thumbs slowly rubbing circles into her skin underneath the waistband of her underwear he was too impatient to take off earlier. As he increased the pressure of his thumbs, Sakura hummed at the warmth and closed her eyes, rolling her neck until she heard a pop.

Suddenly, the warmth was gone and Sakura was gasping for breath as her back hit her mattress. Shisui hovered over her, his fingers tickling her sides and drifting towards her armpits–her most ticklish spot. His mouth ticked upwards as mischief bloomed in his eyes.

“S-stop, S-Shisui, oh my god, s-stop!” Sakura laughed, rolling around and clenching her arms against her body to ward off his attack.

Shisui laughed and Sakura’s heart stuttered like it always did, but she ignored it as his fingers drifted down towards the back of her knees. She kicked out trying to escape his grasp.

“Didn’t happen, huh?” Shisui sang, laughter in his throat. “How do I know all your most sensitive places then, huh?”

Sakura giggled and then screamed as Shisui reached the back of her knees despite all her kicking. After a moment of struggling, she finally got out from under him, wrestling him back onto the bed. She locked her knees around his pelvis and pressed her torso flush against his, breasts flat against his chest as her arms pinned his shoulders down. Sakura marveled at how Shisui was still so warm but focused on catching her breath.

Huskily, Sakura said between breaths, “Shisui, we just spent the past two hours fucking each other’s brains out. Of course you know all my sensitive areas.”

“Ah, but do you know mine, Sakura-chan?” Shisui asked, bucking his hips against hers, one eyebrow arched in a challenge.

Sakura laughed, squirming at the sudden arousal she felt at his actions. Looking down at him, she smirked and said, “You know, for someone so tall, and older I might add, you act like such a fucking man-child sometimes, Shisui-kun.”

“You love it,” Shisui murmured, bringing his hands back to her hips and pushing them down against his.

[seitmai]

"Nailed the assignment, honey.  You look pretty."  His megawatt smile beams at you and you can’t help but smile sweetly back.  On any other first date, the pet names would tick you off.  But they just suit the slight Texan drawl in his voice and come off as endearing.  You two embrace in a gentle hug, the nerves of a date evident between you two.  It's odd to be nervous around someone you've already slept with, but for some reason that feeling simmers below the surface.

Aww the nervousness is kinda cute 🥹

"You'd mentioned the other night you were working a ton.  What do you do exactly?" Hangman changes the subject.  You took some time to explain the 1000ft view of your work, and he nods along, asking questions here and there to put together a better picture of your day to day. You're surprised he's such an active listener.  

Love an active listener

All you gather is that it's pretty strenuous, and that Hangman needs to be one of the best.  You're not surprised.  The man had an ego you spotted a mile away the other night, and you were sure it carried with him through every facet of his day.  Not just at bars getting girls. 

That's just so spot on

"I'm not gonna lie, you sort of struck a nerve the other day."  Jake admits suddenly, looking at you with some intensity masked by a playful tilt of the head.  Your brow knit together in slight confusion.  He leans in towards the table, continuing, eyes finding yours as that cocky smirk dances across his features.  "Besides the fact it was the single, sexiest thing I have ever been privileged to witness-"

🤭😏😌

"Yes."  He is emphatic.  "I needed an ego check.  One that actually got through to me.  This mission, this environment, I can't be getting wrapped up in the dick measuring contest of it.  The competition, it's getting me distracted.  Just a few weeks while I'm here, and then I'm out of your hair.  Keep me in line."  It's a proposition.  A sexual one at that, with the way his voice lowers and his eyes darken.  Heat builds between your legs, against your better judgement.  Jake Seresin is the golden boy; Hollywood good looks, amazing physique, and the ability to charm the scales off a snake.  You'd be an idiot to give that up for the next few weeks, but you also guess no one has said no to him before.  In that moment, part of you wanted to check his ego.  But he was receptive, and more importantly, he was honest.  What more you could really ask for in a fling?

That's a very simple answer: nothing, let's gooo

 "I'm sure people have at least called you on your arrogance, right?"

They better have, it's impossible not to lol

He smiles that big, full face smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes and sends big dimples tugging across his face.  The one that's way more genuine than the usual smirk. "I like that smile way better than the flyboy smirk".

Nothing better than a bright, true smile 🥰

"Let me make it up to you.”  The words ring confident, unworried.  “I'm a fast learner, and I always rise to the challenge."  Despite your mild insult, Jake's machismo comes swaggering back. He gently pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, drawing your attention to his mouth.

Oh he can't resist a challenge 😏

“I bet you’re so wet for me, girl.  I told you I am a fast learner, I’m going to make you feel so good.  So fucking good.  You’re never going to second guess what I can do in bed ever again.”  His hips are gyrating across you, denim against the thin spandex of your underwear.  In that moment, you believe him.  You are fully confident that this man will unravel you, finding the right thread to pull before you are undone.  His confidence, cockiness, ego, whatever you want to call it has totally convinced you right now that he would make good on his promise.  

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

His cock is straining painfully tight against his jeans and he presses his his down into the couch for some relief, trying to remind himself that he was making good on a promise.  The mission tonight was your pleasure, not his.  And Jake “Hangman” Seresin always finishes the mission.  

He really is a man on a mission 🤤🫡

Fuck.  He kind of forgot how hot that could be.  Or maybe he didn’t realize how hot it could be when the woman was not putting on a show or he wasn’t just spending a little time on her to get to the good stuff.

I volunteer to be a regular reminder 😌

When he put the idea of fucking out of his mind, he realized, giving some oral could be really good stuff.  Another revelation.  

😏😌

The Dinner Date [ The Dry Spell Part II ]

[ A few people asked for it, so here we go. Clearly I have set this up to be a series. 4 parts, probably. I know where I want it to go but I don’t quite know how to get there. I just know I wanted a more mature, confident woman in the readers place to contrast a lot of great fics Ive read so far. Can you tell I’m 30something? ]

⚠️Warnings: Minors, do not engage. 18+ content. Smut. Oral(female receiving), swearing (duh), mentions of alcohol, allusions to sexting, confident characters all around.

Part I: The Dry Spell

Part III: The Interruption 

. . . .

You hadn’t taken Hangman seriously when he asked for a date.  

You were naked in the shower after your one night stand, and you thought he was just feigning interest.  He gave some reasons why he had to get back to the base for an early morning, but Hangman was insistent on getting your number before he left.  He went so far as to text you right then and there, seeing your phone light up with the message to ensure it was, in fact, the right number.  

You didn’t think he’d actually call, so you were almost confused when his callsign showed up your lock screen two days later.  It was around 11am and you were just getting in the door after a run along the beach.  You were even more shocked that you answered.

“Hey there” - His voice was casual.  It sounded like he was in the car.  "Are you free tonight?“

You paused.  When he said he wanted dinner you figured a late night drink on another Friday, barely a step above a booty call, was what he really meant.  

"Please say yes.”  He chuckled softly on the other end of the call.  

Truth is, you were free.  You didn’t have to go in until late on Monday now that work had slowed down for a bit.  Your entire office was taking an extended weekend in celebration of completing the project from hell.  All that was left for your day were domestic chores.  Dinner with the pilot hottie sounded way better.

“hmm…I could be…” you trailed off, your tone playful.  You were almost mad at the smile that tugged at corner of your lips. 

“ ‘Atta girl.  I’ll pick you up at 6.”

“See you then, Hangman.”

“Wear something pretty."  Click.

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