#it’s hard to escape 😔

[haliaiii]

argenti sketch 🌹

[crystallizsch]

“I don't remember the last time I went waltzing in fancy dresses... Come dance with me! You’re my guinea pig for tonight to see if I still got the moves, hehe. Maybe then I’ll have a shot at this ‘Midnight Princess’ thing. …Chill, I’m just kidding. Or am I?”

Yuusha Tala Midnight Waltz (fan event by @midnightmah07)

MAH HI HI CONGRATS ON 1.5K FOLLOWERS 💥💥💥🎉🎉🎉

i’m really glad to have met you, it’s fun chatting and seeing you in the dash!! thank you for doing this fun event and being such a cool person and sharing your art/writing/ocs!! i hope you keep doing what you love, you deserve this so much and more!! 🫶🫶🫶💖💕💖💕🔥🙏

[bookish-bi-mormon]

Me a few weeks ago: Brennan Lee Mulligan is a very talented story teller and I appreciate his work 🙏😌 would love to be able to craft a story as well as him one day. He's also a relatively attractive guy.

Me now: ... Oh. I see. I need him 🫠🫣😳

[grassbreads]

Oh god, seven seas redid their website, (or at least the pages for their danmei imprint) and it's SO much more annoying to browse now

There's no images on the main list of series? You can no longer see the cover and release date for each volume from the home page for a novel?? And they have a new fancy patterned background that, though very pretty, makes their small white font super unpleasant to read.

Why.

[possum-tooth]

not that i care ab m*rvel but how do u cast the same guy for 2 separate characters without it being weird

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[bokutoko]

osamu didn’t really have a favorite color.

it wasn’t until he saw you after school one chilly autumn day, your face lighting up with the question, “is that jacket new, ‘samu?”

he nodded—he didn’t think too much of it when he got it for his birthday, so he surely didn’t expect anyone else to notice. “a gift from ma.”

“i like it, it’s my favorite color,” you took in his full appearance, your eyes looking him up and down, “it suits ya.” a cackle escaped you at osamu’s flustered face, only growing louder with him grumbling, “shaddup.” osamu’s biggest tell was always his accent thickening, and you knew it.

as winter came, osamu found himself wearing that same jacket to and from school every day, ignoring atsumu’s relentless “whadda simp” comments, as a part of him hoped you’d one day be chilly enough to need his coat.

and when that day came, with his jacket hugging your figure as you nuzzled in his leftover body heat, osamu found it hard to breathe.

in that moment, he realized he’d found his new favorite color—yours.

a/n: sorry osamu if reader’s favorite color is pink😔 bro’s looking like pepto-bismol.

want more osamu? check out this blurb :)

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[mohammedaldeeb]

A Humanitarian Appeal from the Depths of Suffering🥹:

The War on Gaza, Our Losses, and the Struggles We Endure

In these difficult and painful times😔, I find it hard to find words that truly express the depth of the suffering I, 💔😓

along with my family, am going through. I am writing this message from a place of desperation and need, as a doctor working in a hospital in Gaza. Life here has become a constant battle for survival, and each day brings new challenges that test our will to continue😭.

We were once living a peaceful and stable life🙂, building our hopes and dreams😥, working towards a future for ourselves and our loved ones🥺.

However, the recent war on Gaza has turned our world upside down😢. I have lost my job💔,

and with it, my only source of income, due to the destruction of the facilities where I worked😭.

The physical destruction around us has been devastating😓, and many projects I was involved in to support the families of patients have come to a halt😢. The economic losses are staggering, and the road to recovery seems almost impossible😥.

The war on Gaza has not only taken our peace of mind but has also brought with it an unbearable level of suffering😓.

The cost of living has skyrocketed,

and we are struggling to meet even the most basic needs of daily life😣.

The situation has become unbearable, and it feels like we’re trapped in a vicious cycle of poverty, fear, and despair.

How can a family survive when they cannot even afford food, let alone the necessities of life?😭😥💔

As a doctor, I stand at the frontline, trying to save lives amidst the wreckage of war😢.

I treat the injured, manage critical cases, and do my best to bring comfort to those who need it most. 🥹

However, at the same time, I face personal struggles that are just as overwhelming😢. The hospital is in dire need of medical supplies and personnel, and we are doing all we can to save lives with limited resources. But the pain of seeing my own family suffering while I try to help others is a constant burden.

How can I help those in need when I cannot even provide for my loved ones?😣😣

Today, as I face this immense struggle😔,

I turn to you, dear reader, with a plea for help🙏🏻😥.

This is not just a request for personal assistance🙏🏻🥹, but a desperate call for hope and a chance to rebuild my life and support my family.

I need your help to share my story😓, so that it reaches as many people as possible.

Your support, through donations and sharing this story, will allow me to help my family escape the horrors of war and start a new life abroad, where we can live in safety and dignity🙏🏻🥹❤️.

I need the resources to travel abroad to continue my education l😔and provide a future for my family🙏🏻😓. Pursuing my studies and advancing my career in medicine is my way of ensuring that I can make a lasting difference, both for myself and for the people of Gaza. But I cannot do this alone.

The funds I am seeking will help me cover travel expenses, medical costs for my family, and the basic needs that we are struggling to meet each day😥.

The financial burden is overwhelming😭,

and without your support, I fear that my dreams, and the future of my family, will slip further out of reach😥😭💔.

Every donation, no matter how small, will make a difference.

Every act of kindness, every person who shares this message, will help light the way for us in this dark time🙏🏻😢.

I humbly ask you to help me spread this story. Share this story with your friends, family, and networks. Let it reach those who have the means and the will to help🥹🥺❤️.

Together, we can make a difference. Your kindness, your generosity, and your willingness to stand by us will mean the world💝🥹🙏🏻.

In these dark times, solidarity is the light that can guide us😔💔. Your support is not just an act of charity; it is an act of humanity❤️❤️.

You are not only helping an individual, but you are also supporting a family in dire need of hope and a better future😃❤️.

I will forever be grateful for any assistance you can provide, whether it’s a financial contribution, sharing this story, or offering a kind word of encouragement.

Your help will give us the strength to continue, and it will remind us that in the midst of all this suffering, there is still hope, there is still kindness, and there are still people who care😃❤️.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart❤️❤️, for your time, your attention, and your compassion.

Together, we can create a future where we can live with dignity, rebuild what has been lost😔, and give our children the hope they deserve💝🥹🙏🏻.

Solidarity is Hope, and Helping is Life💚❤️💛🖤🇵🇸 .

vetted by \

@90-ghost (number 212)

@mangocheesecakes ,

@sayruq

@el-shab-hussein

@nabulsi

[screampied]

i want to sit on higuruma’s face and ride his nose so badly 😔😔

☆ higuruma x fem! reader

⤷ tags: cunnilingus, praise, riding higuruma’s nose

the minute you ask him, he’s so compliant.

at first you were sure higuruma would make fun of you. although, he’s the exact opposite—you find yourself hovering just over his mouth, barely.

higuruma’s fingers gently ghost against your hips before bringing a kiss against the middle fabric part of your panties.

“hey, if you wanna ride my nose, angel then jus’ do it,” and his voice was smooth, you stare at him, and by the second you’re growing more and more wet. “don’t be shy.”

“…o-okay,”

you mumbled, your knees bent, you were just casually lingering over him—you move yourself done just a bit and your panties rub against his nose.

higuruma chuckles, you were so frantic solely by the movement of your hips. higuruma licks a stripe against your underwear, watching you squirm in desperation before he moves the string to the side. “get nice ‘n comfy, that’s it.”

you gnaw on your lip, starting to move your hips just a bit against his face. you felt the tip of his nose repeatedly tap and prod against your pussy. the moment you felt his tongue softly go against your folds, you shudder from his touch.

“h—hiro,” you’d squeak out, and darkened eyes of his meet yours.

a single hand of his has a firm grip on your right thigh as he’s returning you a sensual stare. “fuck..” you panted, and he’s easily stimulating your clit with just a few licks and sucks of his tongue. you’re grinding against his face ploddingly, almost as if you were hesitating at first before he brings to hands to make you sit all on him.

the sounds of your own breathing started to pick up, and he looked so pretty underneath you—just his eyes half-lidded, lips slightly parted and a tiny smirk pressing against the very corners of his lips.

fingers of yours started to go through his hair, giving it a slight yank, it’s unintentional and it drags out a groan from higuruma.

“easy, girl. easy.”

“sorry...”

you moaned, feeling his nose continuously rub against your pussy. the soft middle part just swiping all against your clit, his lips were attached, never releasing its grip.

it doesn’t take much long before your legs start to shake and judder. you felt yourself slowly reaching up to that pleasurable point.

“angel…just relax, i got you.” he purrs in a raspy voice, departing his lips for a brief moment just to kiss all against your puffed folds.

you were drenched, soaked even. his tongue had your eyes rolling back, backwards. higuruma teasingly brings a thumb towards your pussy and runs down your slit just for him to give it a sweet kiss. “could have you sit on my face all day, gorgeous.”

and he meant that, because after you always whined on wanting to ride his face—more specifically, his nose.

you’d find yourself doing it all the time, just sitting there, looking pretty until you came all on his face. “hiromi, hiro—”

“oh, i know,” he murmurs, and higuruma starts to stroke himself. you made him so hard he couldn’t help but touch himself. low husky grunts escaped from his lips as you’re an entire shaky mess on his face. “give it to me,” and his warm breath dances against your thighs—you feel him give your thighs a light pull forward towards his mouth and you moan. “come on baby, come on.”

his voice was so gentle, purely identical to his touch. the way his tongue grazed against every inch had you whining for more incessantly. so sloppy, occasionally he’d spit on your pussy just to lap it up with his tongue. he was covered from the nose down with your slick.

higuruma found himself giving your clit multiple kisses just to watch you cutely squirm and jolt against him.

your hands grip his hair and you’re whimpering. after a few seconds, your legs thrash and shake and then you came. he smiles at the way your body responded to his tongue, barely able to keep your hold on his hair.

“good girl, just make a mess ‘n let me clean it.” he mutters, giving your pussy a final kiss. “look at me. eyes down here,” and you move your eyes down towards him. higuruma grabs you off of him before pulling you close towards him. he brushes a thumb against your lips before planting a three second kiss on your mouth. so lewd, you tasted yourself all on his tongue — the sheer sweetness of it had you whimpering for more.

“…sweet girl.” he utters, and you moan into his mouth, returning it before feeling him reach a hand down to give your pussy a light squeeze. “i’m not finished with you yet, want more of you.”

his words had you pulsing, and as you continued to kiss him — with him breaking away every few seconds to speak, that’s when higuruma suddenly makes you bend over, softly caressing your ass with the palm of his hand. “arch just like that for me, yeah..”

[fullscoreshenanigans]

#this is just what middle schoolers do when theyre left to their own devices your honor (via @midnight-sloth)

March 21st - Happy Birthday Norman - ft: his tvtropes

[lanafamily4]

🆘 please save my family from the genocide 🥹⁉️

I am Lana, a girl whose dreams were once simple, yet full of hope. I was an engineering student, eager to build a brighter future. But war has stolen everything—our home, our security, and the light in our lives. My family and I have faced the agony of displacement not once, but eight times. Each time, we fled through chaos, navigating a world of missiles and tanks, with fear as our only companion.

In 2016, we rebuilt our home after years of struggle and hard work, only to watch it crumble again, leaving us with nothing but the sky as our roof. My father was gravely injured, shrapnel tearing through his chest. His workplace was bombed, leaving him without a source of income.

Today, we live in a torn tent, shivering in the cold, enduring hunger and illness. We have no warmth, no food, and no future. Survival has become our only goal, but even that feels out of reach.

I plead with you, from the depths of despair—our only hope lies in your compassion. Every donation can bring us closer to safety, closer to escaping this endless cycle of displacement and suffering. Your kindness can help us find shelter, warmth, and a chance to rebuild what we’ve lost.

You are the only hope in our darkness, after all our dreams have faded.🥹🥹🥹⁉️🫂

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #271 )✅️

And @bilal-salah0✅ ⬇️

My life before the war 😔💔💔💔👇

Our torn tent, barely shielding us from the cold and offering no protection from the rain. Every corner tells a story of resilience, and every tear is a new wound added to our lives.

The struggle of hand-washing clothes and cooking over an open fire – each task a reminder of the hardship we endure daily.

Every day, we survive death, shelling, and shrapnel – like the fragments that struck my father in his chest.

[lyvhie]

mhwa! | park jisung

park jisung x reader ꒰ summary ꒱ it's so hard for jisung to live without your attention. ꒰ a/n ꒱ loves... i lied again, this came up instead of haechan's fic 😝, i hope you enjoy ♡ btw, can you tell that i'm changing this info part at each post? i'm trying to find something that i like visually 😔 ꒰ cw ꒱ just fluffyyyy, actually, kinda suggestive i think.

As a college student preparing for finals, weekends weren’t a time to relax—they were reserved for studying.

You barely had time to go out with your boyfriend, and it made you feel like a bad girlfriend, even though he constantly reassured you otherwise.

That's why Jisung suggested accompanying you while you studied, saying he would quietly wait for you to finish what you had to do. That way, you could still spend time together, and once you were done, you could relax and cuddle. Two birds with one stone!

That was the plan, but things were proving to be harder than expected, taking longer than you anticipated. Even so, Jisung didn’t seem to mind. He was perfectly content just being near you, offering quiet support whenever he could—like bringing you water or snacks, always careful not to disturb your focus.

But he wasn’t immune to boredom either, and soon he found himself growing impatient. He wanted his girlfriend’s attention, too.

Now, he was sitting beside you, elbow resting on your desk, his head propped up on his hand, just watching you. He observed the way you furrowed your brow slightly while reading the problem, how you rested your pen on your chin, deep in thought, a small pout forming as you muttered under your breath, clearly frustrated with the question. He couldn’t help but smile. It was ridiculous how you could make his heart race inside his chest, simply by doing nothing.

His eyes trailed down to your lips again. When was the last time he kissed you? Maybe this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago. He was starting to feel a bit deprived.

“Jisung?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked a few times in surprise when he realized his hand was cupping your face. He hadn't even noticed when it moved there.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, pulling his hand away quickly. “I was just, um, it’s nothing, sorry for interrupt.”

You raised an eyebrow, both of you locking eyes in a moment of quiet before you broke it with a playful smile.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Yes, please."

The words slipped from his lips before he had a chance to second-guess himself, and though he felt his face heat up slightly, he didn’t try to backtrack. He really did want your attention, even if it was just for a moment.

You couldn't help but laugh at his honesty, the sound making him blush even more. You let go of your pen and turned your body toward him, swiveling your chair closer to where he was.

Leaning forward, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to catch on. Jisung nearly missed the cue, but quickly cupped your face with his large hands and kissed you. The soft hum of contentment that escaped him as his lips met yours were like music to your ears.

His hand slid down to your neck, his thumb gently tracing the back of it before moving down your arm and finally capturing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Come here a bit,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and warm. He tugged at your hand, urging you to stand. Without hesitation, you stood up, following his lead as he guided you to sit on his lap.

He leaned back in his chair, one hand gently threading through the strands of your hair at the back of your head, while the other began to caress your thigh, slowly inching upward with each passing second.

“Ji,” you pulled away from the kiss, but he chased your lips again, eager to keep it going. You managed to pull away once more, leaving a trail of soft pecks. “Wait, Jisung,” you chuckled softly, amused by the puppy eyes he was giving you. “I still have to finish my studies, love”

He groaned in annoyance, burying his face in your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer, and pressing soft kisses on your skin.

“Can't you just leave it for tomorrow?” His voice was muffled against your skin.

“No, love,” you chuckled again, your hand gently caressing the back of his head. “I have to finish this right now, so tonight and tomorrow I'll be all yours,” you pulled him away from your neck, gazing at his pouty face. “Sounds good?”

“Not really, I want to be with you right now,” he kissed your lips softly. “But since that’s all I can do, I guess it sounds good…”

“Oh, don’t be like that, my love,” you squeezed his cheeks, giving him a teasing smile. “Just a little longer, and I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed, clearly giving in. “But... can you at least take a short break from all that studying?”

You pretended to think for a moment, humming. “I suppose I can.”

Relief washed over his face, and he pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Then, please, let me enjoy every second of it.”

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea

[innieseong]

“𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬”

✧꡴ - 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐛𝐟!𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✧꡴ - 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 - 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

✧꡴ - 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 - 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

✧꡴ - 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 - 𝟕𝟓𝟎 (𝐢𝐤 𝐢𝐤, 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠😔)

✧꡴ - 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨, 𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, (𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜?) 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 - 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬. (𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞)

✢ - 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

✢ - 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

✢ - @innieseong

✧꡴ - 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - 𝐒𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐜 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐚 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 (?), 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐨, 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 <𝟑 (𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝:𝟑)

✧꡴

"Why can’t you just- ugh, fuck, you're so tight- Admit that he-ngh, likes you, shit," Yunho plunged his cock deep into your heat, bottoming inside you, groaning, stilling his movements as he grips your hips with a powerful grip.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. It's familiar, comforting...and yet, it stirs something dark and possessive within him. Something that whispers insistently in his ear, telling him that you belongs to him and him alone.

He smirk into your neck as he feels you tighten around his cock, your heat clenching down on him like a vice. He knows just how to push your buttons, to drive you absolutely wild with lust. And he loves every second of it.

His hips start to move again, slowly, teasingly, letting you feel every thick inch of him. He keeps his grip on your hips firm, almost bruising in its intensity.

As much as he wants to keep going, to pound into you until you’re both screaming in ecstasy, Yunho knows he needs to get his point across first. He leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "Admit that I'm right about Michael. That he likes you, that he fucking wants you. Say it, and maybe I'll let you cum."

He punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, his cock hitting your g-spot dead-on. He grins at the choked moan that escapes your lips, knowing he's got you right where he wants you. You shake your head repeatedly, your mind blanking at the feeling of his cock, hoping you get your point across about Michael.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth possessively. At the same time, he reaches between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. He can feel you starting to tremble beneath him, your orgasm building rapidly under his skilled touch.

He tugs on your lower lip with his teeth as he pulls away slowly before letting it go with a chuckle as you moan softly. His piercing brown eyes bore into your eyes in the darkness of the car, almost like he's trying to see straight into their soul.

“You're mine, Y/N. All mines. Can you say it for me, love? Say you're mine," Yunho whispers, his voice dripping with possessiveness and love. He pulls out, slowly, tauntingly, the cool air hitting your flushed skin before he slams back in, setting a brutal pace that leaves you both panting and moaning. “I’m yours! Ngh, Fuck, yours.” You gasp out, head falling back against his steering wheel.

His eyes darken with intent as he hears you gasp out those sweet words.

"Fuck yes, you are," he whispers, his hips snapping forward with a sharp movement . The car rocks with each powerful thrust, the windows fogging up from the heat of your passion. Yunho can feel his own release approaching, his balls drawing up tight against his body as he chases his pleasure.

He leans down, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, swallowing down your moans and cries. His hand moves from your clit to your throat, squeezing lightly, just enough to make you gasp.

"My perfect girl, my beautiful love," he rasps against their lips, his thrusts becoming erratic, desperate. "I'm going to fill you up, okay? Fill you with my babies." At those words, He feels your walls clench around him like a vise, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of ecstasy. He groans, the sensation sending shivers down his spine and making his cock throb inside.

"Fuck, that's it," he mutters, his hips continuing even as your body trembles beneath him. "Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."

With a final, brutal thrust, Yunho buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed into their willing body. He groans long and low, his face pressed against their neck, breathing in their scent as he rides out the waves of his orgasm, his body shaking.

Slowly, he pulls out, watching in satisfaction as his cum leaks out of your well-used hole. He scoops some up with his fingers, bringing them to your lips.

"Clean up your mess, baby," he purrs, his voice rough with satisfaction. "And then we'll go get that ramen I've been craving. After all, I worked hard for it, didn't I?"

✧꡴

✧꡴

[redocity]

Well, we know that Buck thrives off of praise. So imagine him during sex!!! God he'd be a whimpering mess, and just begging you for everything and anything oml

LIBIDO — E.BUCKLEY

Buck’s a sex freak.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.4k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | this post is 18+, MDNI. kitchen sex (bc buck is a freak), unprotected piv (freak buckley), begging + mild praise kink (buck obviously bc freak), buck eats his own cum off his fingers (freakkkk), buck is just a sex fiend what can i say?

a/n — this is kinda mid, sorry 😔

You had half the mind to submit Buck’s libido as an object of study to Psychologists. Or Biologists, or Sexologists, or honestly whoever would take him.

Because Evan Buckley was rabid when it came to his sexual urges, and it was honestly baffling, even after so many years being on the receiving end of it.

The second you stepped through the front door, Buck was on you in less than a second. His lips were on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, and he was grinding his hips against yours.

He practically forced you up against the kitchen island, his hands roaming down your body; you could feel just how hard he was through his uniform.

“I need you.” he mumbled huskily against your lips. He was already panting as his hands moved to the hem of your pants, pulling at them impatiently. “Need you now.”

He spun you around so that your chest was against the counter, pressing his front against your back. You could feel his growing erection nudge against your rear as he continued to kiss and nip at your neck and you had to take a moment to ask yourself how you even got here.

You’d literally done absolutely nothing, and yet Buck was acting like you’d stripped naked mid shift just to taunt him into a reaction.

“Been thinking about you all day.” He muttered, his hands moving to unbutton your pants, “Can't wait. Need you now.”

He made quick work of the bottom half of your uniform, pulling everything from the waist down out of the way, leaving you exposed to him.

And at some point, he'd apparently managed to undo his own pants, because next thing you knew, you felt the tip of his erection against your thigh, slick and hard and leaking.

“Gonna make you feel so good. You have no idea—“ Buck groaned, rubbing the head of his hard cock against your entrance, “I was going crazy imagining you all day. Couldn't get you out of my head, god please babe— Need you so bad.” He said with a desperate tone, his voice low and gravelly. “Need to be inside you right now.”

Who were you to refuse him that? When he was so eager and desperate for you?

“I'm all yours.” you gasp out, and any and all restrain completely disappears from his rational mind.

He slides into you in one fluid movement, a low moan escaping from his throat. “Fuck...” Buck groans, the stretch almost too much for you. “You’re so tight, baby—”

He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust around his size, before slowly rolling his hips into you, his fingers digging into your hips. “So good for me.” He moans, his breath hot against your ear. “So good, so good—”

Buck increases his pace almost too eagerly, shifting from a slow rolling pace to pistoning his hips into you. He's panting as he grips onto you, his moans growing louder.

“God, you have no idea how good you feel—” He gasps out. “How perfect you are—”

He shifts, angling his hips just slightly to aim for that spot, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Right there, baby?” he groans breathlessly when he hears you cry out, almost like he’s seeking reassurance. “You like that? Yeah? Is it good for you?”

“Yeah— yes—” you gasp out, you’re gripping at the countertop, his name on your lips. “Buck—”

He lets out a deep moan at hearing you say his name, his pace not slowing down. “God, yes, baby, please keep saying my name like that—”

His pace is becoming frantic, his thrusts losing their rhythm, he can’t seem to get enough of you. “Need you. Need you so bad—” He moans out.

“Feel so good—” his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving against your back. He’s starting to lose control.

“Please.” He moans, “So tight, baby, so good for me—”

He's getting close, and you can tell just how close he is from the way he's moving, the way he's biting and sucking at your neck, the way his breathing is becoming more and more erratic.

“You close? You gonna come for me, baby?”

He's pumping into you faster now, his rhythm all but gone.

His grip on you is almost painful—but it's a good pain. “I need you to come for me, please—” He pleads. “Need to make you feel good, need to— god, baby, please—” He's thrusting frantically, he's desperate, but he's also so careful with you, making sure to make you feel just as good as him.

He's so close, he can't hold back any longer.

“Please, please, please—” he groans, his voice almost desperate.

“Please, baby, I'm so close—” his voice is almost pleading. “I'm gonna come, baby, I'm so close-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic, he's losing control, he's on the edge. “Please, please, please—” he's moaning into your ear. But he's holding back, he's not going to finish until you do. He's too desperate to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He shifts his hips again, aiming for that spot, and you're practically seeing stars. “Is that good? Is that it, baby? You're gonna come for me, right? Right—”

“Yeah, yeah —” you manage to gasp out, “Please, I'm so close—” You can tell he's holding back, his muscles tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Come for me, please—” he’s begging, and it's driving you over the edge, “I need to feel you—”

“Please—” you gasp out, your orgasm growing closer and closer, “I'm gonna—”

“Come for me—”

And then he thrusts into you one last time, and that's all it takes to send you over the edge.

“Yes—” he moans when he feels you clench around him, “God, yes—”

He's right behind you, unable to hold back any longer. “Please, baby—” he gasps, “Can I—”

“Buck—”

“Please, baby, I need to—” he’s begging, “Inside— can I—” But you know exactly what he's asking, and you're nodding your head, giving him the go-ahead.

“Oh thank god—” He groans. “Thank you, thank you—” He thrusts into you a few more times, before stilling, his body shaking as he comes inside of you.

“Oh god—” he moans, his voice barely above a whisper, “thank you, thank you—” He's panting, his face buried into your shoulder.

He's holding onto you like he's afraid you'll disappear, his body warm against your back. “Feel so good, baby, so good—” he mumbles into your skin, his breathing still erratic.

His orgasm is so much, that despite his cock plugging you full, his release seeps through the gaps to run down your thighs anyhow.

“So good, so good—” He repeats, his voice shaky, he’s panting. He slowly pulls out of you, his legs unsteady and his mind spinning as he watches the pool of cum that follows out of you and onto the counter.

A shiver of pleasure runs through him, seeing you like this, seeing what he's done to you, and he pulls you close, holding you against his chest, his heart still racing.

“So good,” he murmurs, planting kisses onto your throat, your neck, your collarbone. “God, baby, you're so good. So perfect.”

He lifts you up, sitting you on the countertop, your legs splayed wide while he stands between them. He looks down, at the mess he's made of you, and it’s almost enough to make him hard all over again.

His fingers move instinctively to catch the drips of him that escape you, pushing it back into you with little resistance.

“Mmm,” he moans, his voice still gruff with sex, “That’s a pretty picture, baby.”

He brings his fingers up to his mouth to lick the excess off of his fingers, tasting himself, tasting the mix of both of you.

He groans, his eyes never leaving you as he does, “God you're perfect.”

[rinhaler]

I saw that the blue lock requests are open again (maybe?)

And...I'm just going to throw this here :

Threesome between Karasu/Otoya and reader. 🙏😔

they both drive me WILD thank u very much for this one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon (they've been clubbing so all a lil drunk!), threesome, pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby etc.), cumming untouched, throat fucking/oral sex (m!receiving), vaginal sex, slight use of a vibrator, choking, dacryphilia, noncon photo taking! — lmk if i missed any!!

words: 1.6k

“I d-don’t do this often…” you whisper, barely able to speak as two pairs of lips decorate your exposed skin in blooming blue love bites. Your skin pimples over from the chill as the air hits the licks and laves left by desperate tongues. Eyes roll pathetically until your eyes are nothing but white, your vision succumbing to the pleasure of being groped and manhandled by not one but two men. You hadn’t expected what was intended to be an innocent night out with your friends to turn into this.

“Yeah? S’that right? You've had two guys bring ya home before, sweetheart?” Karasu smirks as his hands dip to the small of your back; ultimately deciding to wander in an instant to grip the globes of your ass.

His hands have you reeling as you struggle to decide whether his touch is rough or soft. Perhaps, calculated. He strategically grabs and pulls you closer, almost hypnotising you into raising your leg to wrap around his waist so he can carry you to your bedroom.

Your apartment is silent save for breathy whispers, eager panting and footsteps as Eita searches for your bedroom. His walking halts, a grin and soft chuckle escaping his lips as Karasu gently spreads your ass whilst he holds you. Your body flushes with heat instantly as your sticky pussy following suit and spreading open soon becomes the loudest sound in the fucking apartment.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think there was an echo. The sound repeating incessantly with the sole purpose of humiliating you. It’s dizzying, really, you can barely keep your thoughts aligned as it rings through your ears again and again.

“I meant I don’t bring guys home often,” you say, finally responding to his question in a bid to distract them from the obscene lewdity dampening between your thighs. “I’ve never done this.” you assure them.

“Pretty pussy is soaked already,” Eita smirks. “Where’s your room, gorgeous?”

You point before looking away in shame, your chin soon gently captured by Karasu as he somehow manages to hold your frame with one arm and carry you to where you had pointed. He plants his lips on yours, humiliation soon becoming a distant memory as your hips instinctively roll against the hard on you can feel stirring to life in his pants.

Eita doesn’t shy away from rummaging through your bedside cabinet, distracting you away from Tabito as your attention is piqued. You yelp, quickly, as you feel yourself thrown from him and onto the bed. He eyes you hungrily as he begins to undress, purposefully taking down button after button from his dress shirt. Eita looks over his shoulder with a smirk before he faces you fully, bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue massages yours, and you whine into his mouth pathetically.

“Do you have anything fun we can use to play with you, doll?” he asks, attaching his lips to yours soon after. “If you don’t bring guys back here often, ‘m sure you’ve got some pretty toys.”

You shake your head softly though your skin burns again as you think about your little makeup bag in the top drawer. You’re distracted, momentarily, as Karasu climbs over you again. His pants still on, but unfastened. The peak of his underwear beneath the material makes you all too aware of the sweat beading down your temple.

“T-There’s a bullet… in the glittery silver purse in the top drawer.” you confess, wrapping you arms around Tabito’s neck as you begin to make out once more. You moan into it, it’s so whiny and eager as he begins to rut his hardening cock into your dripping clothed mound.

“Is that all? No wonder you’re so cock hungry if that’s the best you have…” Eita says calmly but retrieves it anyway. You’re barely listening to him, too lost to the feeling of Tabito’s body against your own. He breaks away to dip his fingers beneath the material of your skirt, patience wearing thin as he yanks the black cotton panties from your aroused core.

“Looka that… you’re fucking drenched, sweetheart.” he smirks. He spreads your legs apart roughly and effortlessly moves your body so that his partner in crime can get a better view of your shimmering flesh.

Eita grins as he retrieves the powder blue bullet from the top drawer. Your skin feels electric as you’re put on display, Karasu keeps your legs pried open and your cunt pulses with each breath you take. He’s a tease, too, kissing your inner thighs and taunting you with the notion of placing his lips where you need them most. It’s torture, hearing them both chuckle and tease you as your hole drools more of your tantalising essence.

You wince, but are almost entirely silent as Eita’s heavy hand wraps around your delicate neck. He squeezes, carefully, pushing a button on the vibe until it whirrs loudly. He lowers it to your sex but too far away to feel any benefit. It’s hovering just shy of your clit while he squeezes your throat almost lovingly.

The way they’re both riling you up, you think the way the vibrations adjusting the air currents may be enough to make you cum. He pushes you down by your throat so that you’re flat against the mattress, and your body instinctively begins to jerk.

“Think she’s gonna cum… we’ve barely touched ya, darlin’. Your pretty cunts twitchin’.” Karasu announces. His lips travel up your body and his teeth bite into the seam of your skimpy crop top, pulling upwards until your breasts spill free. He kisses the soft skin before his teeth gently skim your peaked nipple. And, at that, you moan raucously. Otoya still hasn’t granted you the pleasure of the vibration pressed fully against your cunt, and Karasu decides to fuel to fire. His fingers delicately dance against your inner thigh and the crease.

“Fuck!” you cry, their torment becomes too much. You cum practically untouched, your pussy spasming and clenching around nothing as you whine in ecstasy. They both laugh, almost cruelly.

“Desperate little girl… ya really are cock hungry, huh?” Karasu reiterates. “Think we should give it t’her?” you recoil as his heavy palm slaps against your tremoring heat.

“Mmm, move her, want her head hanging over the mattress.” Eita commands. You’re moved with ease, your head lolling over the side of your bed as he looks down at you. Even upside down, you can see a wicked gleam in his eye. He throws his t-shirt over his head and unfastens his jeans. Your eyes almost cross as he reveals his own hardened length.

He's pretty.

Every inch of him is pretty.

He pumps it a few times, pearlescent pre leaking from his slit before he smears it across your lips like gloss. He smirks when you lick them, a sensual bite following soon after as the taste stirs your arousal.

“Dirty girl,” he says. With one hand, he guides his cock into your mouth before wrapping his palm around your throat. He begins to thrust, finally lowering the whizzing vibrator to your pulsating clit. “Ah, fuuuck.” he moans as he feels your throat hum around him.

“Hey,” you flinch as you feel Karasu slap your tits. “Don’t forget who’s gonna cream your pretty cunt, baby.” he says smugly as he guides his thick length to your clenching slot. He throws his head back, the tightness of your warmth hugging him is a sensation close enough to paradise he’d be happy to die right here and now.

“She’s such a little slut, swear she clenched when you said you were gonna fill her up.” Eita smirks, biting his lip as he feels your throat bulge from each roll of his hips. He withdraws his length, cooing as you sputter and drool as he allows your breathing to steady.

You’re almost sobbing, tears spilling from your eyes as Tabito begins to fuck into you furiously, the little toy barely contributing to the overall pleasure you feel.

“Gonna take it, aren’tcha baby? Gonna be my li’l cum whore.” he asks, fingers gripping into your sensitive skin as he continues railing you at a ruthless pace. And you nod, desperately, it’s all you can do as the heady feeling of bliss overwhelms you.

Otoya soon deprives you of your airways again, missing the feeling of your wet throat choking him.

Your body writhes as you feel another orgasm desperate to rip through you. Otoya has abandoned the pathetic little bullet in favour of his own pleasure, it’s all he was ever concerned about anyway.

Karasu moans, almost roaring as his primal instincts take over. He chases his release, and Eita does the same. They can’t help but laugh as you are the first to succumb to it, your little body spasming between them as you get off from being nothing more than their fuck toy.

You feel warm fill you at both ends, Karasu pants heavily as he withdraws his length and watches his seed spill from your cute little hole. Otoya grins as he hears you once again sputter around his length, he pulls away and can’t help but admire your absolutely ruined face as cum dribbles from your lips. Your mascara has smeared so beautifully, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more captivating sight.

“Wasted my cum, baby… at least you look cute.”

Instinctively, he pulls out his phone to take a picture of you. Karasu follows suit, taking a multitude of photos of your leaking hole.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. They’re jus’ for us.” Karasu assures you.

Eita squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, they’re so swollen and shiny from spit and cum, your little pout has aided to his favourite photo of the night.

“Good job, pretty girl… not through with you though. I want a turn with your slutty little cunt.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[pickingupmymercedes]

Lucky you're hot - Lewis Hamilton

request: "hiiiii!!! your fluffs are so cute 😔🤍 i have a request if you dont mind writing it. maybe one where reader came home from work and then after an hour or so lewis just come barging in saying that reader has been home for a while but didnt even cuddle him once?😔😔😔😭" - anon

warnings: none, it's fluff through and through.

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Needy and cute Lewis and sassy Lewis come hand in hand for me, so yeah, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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Why did I agree to this meeting? It was a thought I’d had at least a dozen times today.

I kicked the front door shut behind me, tossing my bag onto the couch without even looking. My feet were halfway out of my heels as I practically flew down the hall toward the study.

I should’ve been curled up on the couch by now, probably in one of Lewis’ hoodies, something hot in my hand, and maybe, just maybe, thinking about ordering dinner.

But no, I was about to dive headfirst into yet another Zoom call.

The joys of modern life.

Ten minutes. Just survive ten minutes, and then you can call it a night.

I slid into the chair, popping open my laptop with a level of enthusiasm I definitely didn’t feel. Clicking into the meeting, I gave the screen a once-over.

Same old faces. I hit mute, leaned back, and settled into my usual routine—pretending to pay attention while my mind wandered elsewhere.

Perfect. Camera on, mic off, brain in neutral.

I was practically a Zoom ninja at this point. As long as I nodded occasionally and didn’t zone out too hard, no one would even notice I wasn’t listening.

The meeting droned on, voices blending into a background hum as I half-heartedly doodled on a notepad. Something about deliverables, reports, something-or-other that I wasn’t going to remember in an hour.

My eyes kept drifting toward the clock at the bottom of the screen, counting down the minutes until I could escape.

I barely registered the sound of the door creaking open behind me. My brain was too fried to even care. I assumed it was the wind.

Or maybe Lewis moving around the house. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important enough to break my focus—or lack thereof.

Then, I heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and way too familiar.

Before I could fully process what was happening, a very large, very sweaty figure appeared in the doorway and my stomach dropped.

Not now. And not like that.

“Excuse me, love” Lewis announced, his voice filled with dramatic offense. “You've been home for an hour, and not one cuddle? I’m feeling deeply neglected.”

I froze, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand. I shot him a wide-eyed look, silently screaming at him to go away. But he wasn’t even looking at me.

No, this man was strolling into the room as if I wasn’t in the middle of an important meeting. Or, you know, on camera.

Lewis, completely unbothered, strolled over, looking every bit the part of an Olympic athlete straight out of battle—glistening with sweat, muscles still tense from whatever torturous workout he’d just finished.

And for some reason, pouting.

“Lewis” I hissed under my breath, barely daring to move my lips. “I’m in a meeting.”

He just blinked at me like he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation and I saw the gears in his head turning.

But, without a care in the world, he walked over and bent down, leaning in close, lips puckered in the most exaggerated, dramatic fashion possible.

I raised my hand to stop him, but it was too late. His lips landed on mine with a loud, unmistakable smack.

The kind of kiss that would’ve been cute—if it weren’t for the fact that I was very much on camera, in a professional setting, with a dozen or so people watching.

“LEWIS,” I whisper-yelled, my eyes wide with horror as I frantically glanced at my screen.

Sure, my mic was muted, but my camera definitely wasn’t.

There, staring back at me, was a grid of stunned, amused faces, watching the world’s most casual Zoom crash unfold before their eyes.

Great, this was really happening.

I held up a hand to the screen, as if that would somehow undo what just occurred.

“Uh… sorry, everyone,” I said, my voice coming out more flustered than I intended. “Apparently, I’ve been home for an hour and, uh… neglected someone.”

Yeah, I was never living this down.

That’s when I noticed it—half the people on the call were starstruck. Eyes wide, jaws dropped, as if Lewis Hamilton walking into my study had somehow shattered the laws of the universe.

It got better and better.

Apparently, some of them hadn’t put two and two together that my Lewis Hamilton was the multiple world champion of F1, Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis, still completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused, blinked at the screen and it took him a second—an agonizingly long second—before he finally seemed to register the fact that we had an audience.

“Oh,” he said, blinking again. “Uh… Hi, everyone.”

The laughter was immediate. My entire screen lit up with amused faces, and I could feel the heat rising in my neck.

I wanted to crawl under the desk and hide forever, but Lewis? He just stood there, completely unbothered, one arm casually draped over my shoulder like this was all part of the plan.

One of my colleagues cleared their throat, clearly trying - and failing - to hold back laughter.

“You know, Y/n,” one of them said, smirking, “if you ever need to end a meeting early, just invite Lewis.”

The rest of the group erupted in laughter again, and I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

Real funny, dude. Hilarious.

I noticed some of the newer faces on the call still looking at Lewis like they couldn’t believe their eyes. A few of them nudging each other in the chat, their messages popping up on the side of my screen.

“Wait… is that Lewis Hamilton?” one person wrote, followed by another typing, “How did I not know she’s dating him?!” and a string of heart-eye emojis.

Great. Just what I needed. Let’s add a little office gossip into the mix while we’re at it.

Lewis squeezed my shoulder, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head. As if I wasn’t already mortified enough, I thought.

I shot him a look, my eyes narrowing into a silent warning. Don’t push your luck, Hamilton.

But all he did was smirk back, leaning in closer, like he was about to kiss me again.

“I swear to God,” I muttered under my breath

“I missed you” he whispered back, the teasing lilt in his voice making it impossible for me to stay mad.

I glanced back at the screen, my colleagues still chuckling amongst themselves. Okay, that was definitely the universe telling me to call it a day.

Clearing my throat, I forced a smile and addressed the group. “Right,” I said, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “I think we’ve covered everything, haven’t we?”

A few of them nodded a little too eagerly, clearly ready to wrap things up.

“Yeah,” someone chimed in, “we’ll, uh, let you get back to your important duties.”

The laughter returned, and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

With one final, hasty goodbye, I clicked out of the meeting and slammed my laptop shut with a little more force than necessary.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” I said, turning to Lewis, who was now looking far too pleased with himself.

He grinned, that signature, disarming smile. “Fixed your day?” he said, pulling me into his arms with ease.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh but didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms around me. “Fixed it, huh?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Meeting’s over, and now I get my cuddles.”

This man… I swear.

I thought, though I couldn’t help but smile as I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re lucky you’re hot” I mumbled into his chest; my voice muffled by the fabric of his still sweaty shirt.

He chuckled, his hand gently stroking my back. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I whispered, closing my eyes and letting myself melt into the warmth of his embrace.

Because, truth be told, as much as Lewis drove me absolutely insane, he was still the one person I couldn’t imagine my life without.

And yeah, maybe I’d never live down the fact that he’d barged into my meeting demanding kisses, but honestly?

Right now, I didn’t really mind all that much.

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