#sorry for the half radio silence

[bingobongobonko]

IM ALIVE

[celestial-letters]

obey me! as things my friends have said (pt. 7)

mammon: your jordans are fake

levi: theyre not jordans theyre skechers

[slavhew]

Yatoma masterpost go go go

Censored Reup bc last one got flagged... :')

[dreamsb0u]

Sometimes I wish my “friends” or whatever who ghosted me would talk to me again just so I could bite their fucking heads off

[koinotame]

i scrapped this and rewrote his section completely bc i didn't like the way it was flowing but here's kind of a sneak peak for what i've been working on ft someone that is definitely my type of yan but is also surprisingly hard to write </3

[junkissed]

maybe i just turn this into a jun only writing blog bc yall HATE when i write other members 😭

[gumclones]

😌 <- me watching s1 episodes that are not even tangentially related to Bonnie’s family and making them about them anyway in my mind

[psychicbergara]

me logging on here as if i havent been radio silent for months: hey... hey.. how are yall doin 😁 sldfjdkjf

[gghostwriter]

Out of Sunshine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Having forgotten your dinner date, Spencer comforts his usually sunshine girlfriend Trope:Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.2k a/n: been very overwhelmed with responsibilities and wants lately that I just needed to write a self-indulgent fic. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

Spencer’s knock on your apartment door was met with silence. It was a starry Friday night and he had arranged a dinner reservation with you, his girlfriend for a year and a half, to the newly opened French restaurant along the main street. With a certain spring in his step, he settled with Hotch, and by extension the team, that he couldn’t be disturbed unless an emergency case comes in—something he silently wished not to happen. He had also picked up a bouquet of your favorites from the local florist. An array of whites that reminded him of the dress he first saw you wearing at the park.

He knocked again, ears straining to hear anything behind the dark wooden door. There was nothing. He balanced the bouquet on one hand and reached for the phone inside his satchel. It was quite unlike you to not answer the door.

The number you dialed is either unattended—

“Strange,” he muttered under his breath. During his morning phone call with you, a much needed routine to tide him through the macabre of his job, you sounded so excited about the dinner he’d planned and had even promised to wear the same white dress that had plagued his eidetic memory. He chuckled in reply before asking any plans for the day. There was a slight pause on your end, no doubt thinking of ways to pass time before night winds down, and you answer—

The studio, he remembered. You mentioned passing by your art studio to occupy time. He sighed in relief as he enters his vintage blue car parked on the the sidewalk, bouquet placed securely on the passenger seat. The clock on the dashboard tells him there’s still time to make it to the reservation, granted he wasn’t sure if you were ready to go.

A non-descriptive tune played from the radio as he turned left to enter the designated parking space of your studio building. It was a mixture of soft piano keys that sounded like spring and sunshine, both adjectives he loved to use to describe you.

When he finally found the courage to fumble his way in asking for your number, the smile that flashed on your face was blinding. It was as if he stared directly into the sun with little to no protection for his vision.

Over the course of multiple dates, he found himself waxing prose about you in his head. The pinking of your cheeks reminded him of strawberries ripening, so tempting to touch with his own pair of lips. The twinkle in your eyes, full of adoration and trust, made him feel strong and protective—like he was some kind of crow guarding his loot of sparkling treasure. And the bounce in your step wherever you’d go had him envisioning a sprig of wildflowers growing from each footprint, the nymph of his very own Spring.

He let himself in the studio, grateful you’ve trusted him with a spare key. “Sunshine,” he called out.

The light inside the four cornered room was on, windows all open for the paint fumes to escape, and there you were, hunched over an easel, furiously painting without any care of your surroundings.

He called your name, softer this time, as if to slowly ease you out of the artistic trance. The timber of his voice and his sudden presence led you to squeak in surprise, paintbrush dropping on the wooden streaked floor.

“It’s me, sunshine,” he raised his hands in front of him in surrender. “It’s me.”

Your nose scrunched up in question, a streak of blue dried paint on your cheek, adorable. How adorable you were in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” you bent down to grab the brush before resuming your old position.

“It’s 7:50, love.”

You swiveled to face him, eyes wide in distress. Hands promptly reaching to turn over the faced down phone. “No, no—oh my god, I am so sorry!”

“It’s alright,” he tries to placate you but his words of comfort seem to fall on deaf ears. “Really, it’s alright. It happens to everyone.”

Tears were starting to build up in your eyes. Your hands were wrangling with the apron tied around your waist as you mutter a series of apologies again and again. “I’m sorry. So sorry—we can’t make it to our reservation now, can’t we? Spence, I’m so so sorry. I—I forgot,” a sob escaped from your throat. “I don’t know what to do.”

He puts down the flowers on the nearest available space, your stool, and steps into your space. Filling it with his perfume and warmth meant to comfort you. He could see how distressed you were—rocking on your heels, hands unable to stay put, and lower lip sandwiched in between your pearly teeth.

“Breathe. It’s completely fine, love. No harm done. Really, it’s alright.”

The tears come rushing down, staining your flushed cheeks with its tracks. “It’s not—how could I forget?”

“Sunshine, it’s okay. It happens to all of us and I know you’re quite busy, it’s understandable.”

You burrow into his chest some more, afraid of separating from him and the haven he brings.

He continued on. “I also know you’re overwhelmed, the exhibit is just around the corner and I know how important it is to you, I understand.”

Laying your cheek near his beating heart, you mutter a reply. “It’s really not—I don’t want you to think you’re not important to me too.”

His hands cupped your face to stare into your saddened eyes. Spencer couldn’t see the warmth and brightness that was always present in his sunshine. There was a cloud of rain and doubt covering its’ greatness. He understood no one could always be happy all the time but it bothered him to see you breaking down from stress.

“Shouldn’t I be the one worried about that?” he lightly joked. “I’ve cancelled on dates so many times and did those ever make you feel less important to me?”

“No. Never,” you sniffled.

“Then what makes you say I’d think that, sunshine? I would never, I promise.”

The corners of your lips lifted up to a small smile. There it was, the rays of sun peeking behind the clouds, bringing warmth back to the dark crevices of his being.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” your lower lip jutting out in a pout. The air of anxiety slowly dissipating around you.

Spencer laughed, noting the tear stained marks littered on his purple button down. “That’s alright. Why don’t we order from your favorite Indian place down the block? We can get your favorites and have our dinner date here instead?”

“You’d be okay with that?”

He leaned in to kiss your temples, taking in the twinkle back in your eyes framed by your wet long lashes and the flush on your cheeks from emotion—good and bad.

For Spencer, you had never looked more beautiful. The reason behind of your breakdown was raw, intimate, and it made him see you in a new light. Heat bloomed in his chest, like a series of red roses, filled with love for you.

“Anywhere with you is good for me, sunshine.”

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

@figsnpassionfruits @marcybug @sacred-holy-light @keigohawks @rockytheluver @parasiiite @iluvstrawberry @18lkpeters @daydreamin1220 @hoesformenotforyou @ninuwrites @chaoticpaintsplatter @red-jay @sweet1squash @here2bawl @silversprings-mp3 @leathargic @issylovessharks @serenewrote @jakegyllenbaalz @whore-for-marvel@cookiesandcreammoolkshake @what-did-you-just-say @demitralover @midnight036 @lanassmarty @sugarrushbell @kitomon @lysmeadows @halpin4 @rebelmarylou @jupitersiberis @ginamcflurry @dilflover-420 @blubobbi @midsommarmayqueen911 @popsickle1235 @jairmi @maxx205 @kmc217 @callmejod @bellaaa32 @suiien @whiskytoast @zeeader @jasmines-greentea @malfoys-demigod @poplottie @navs-bhat @argos-13 @marvelreadingarchive @krisslegacy @chassidypowell24 @godness-gracious13 @hpttsa @fandomsunited @sseleniaa @vampuck @veetallla @chasedbyatlantic @fluffy-anna @deaky-with-a-c

[moonstruckme]

roomate jamess 😭😭😭💓💓🤍😭😭💓

I agree !

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!james x shy!reader ♡ 733 words

James gets the text just as he arrives home: Are you hungry?

He grins, putting his car in park as he types out a reply. 

I’m wounded. We’re coming up on our one-month roommate anniversary, and you still don’t know I’m always hungry? 

This makes a grand total of four texts between the two of you. You’d conversed a bit more on Craigslist before agreeing to let James move in with you, but barely. Your radio silence is much like your actual silence, but he’s happy to be making a dent in either. 

Your response comes while he’s fishing his keys out of his pocket. Sorry. Want thai?

James laughs, opening the door and toeing off his shoes. He calls in the general direction of your room, “I hope you’re joking about being sorry.” 

He’s hoping for maybe a reply via text, so it comes as a pleasant surprise when you appear on the stairs. You move like a ghost; if he put you and Remus in an old manor together, James is half sure it’d qualify as a haunted house. 

You’re in your pajamas, which means you must already be done with work for the day. James has noticed this is one of your habits; once you’ve decided you’re staying in the house, your outside clothes hit the hamper and you’re living in fuzzy socks. These ones, standing halfway up the staircase, are blue with white stars. Something about seeing you in full cozy mode makes James’ stomach twinge. 

“Do you want Thai?” you ask again, longer and in person. Several decibels quieter than he’d just been.

“Sure.” James gives you a smile, flopping backwards over the arm of the couch. He was going to cook pasta for dinner, but he’s a bit tired anyway and agreeing to the first bonding opportunity you’ve offered him takes precedence. “Do you wanna use my card, or should I pay you after?” 

“Don’t.” You wave him off, already typing on your phone. “I’m getting it.” 

“Not happening,” James replies. He starts digging in his pocket for his wallet, unearthing a half dozen gum wrappers and a receipt from last March. “But in theory, to what do I owe the honor?” 

Your eyes flit to him, something like accusation in them. James feels his eyebrows lift. “I know you don’t have that many leftovers,” you say. 

So, you’re onto him. “I cook a lot,” he replies with a shrug. “If there’s extra, someone should eat it.” 

“But why not you?” 

“Why not you?” he counters. 

You look suspiciously as though you might be biting down on a smile. A real one. “The point is, I owe you at least a meal. Do you want to see the menu?” 

“Sure, thanks.” He reaches out a hand. You come down the stairs to give him your phone, but once it’s in his hand your eyes narrow mistrustfully, fingers tightening on the device. 

“If you try to pay,” you tell him, “I’ll hide the money in your room so you don’t find it until you move out.” 

A laugh bubbles up out of him at your serious tone. “We live together, babe. I think I’ll come across it at some point.” 

“Not with your room as messy as it is.” 

Damn it, you’re right. “Fine.” James holds up his hands in surrender, credit card between his fingers. “But when I make dinner tomorrow, just eat it while it’s hot, yeah? Let’s do away with the pretense.” 

You sigh through your nose, sitting down beside him with one leg curled under you. You’re attempting something that’s probably supposed to be a glare. James would hate to have to tell you how unintimidating it is, but he may if you keep it up much longer; it’s almost too adorable to take. 

“I appreciate it, but you really don’t need to cook for me,” you say. “I eat plenty when you’re not here.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

“That’s the point, James.” You roll your eyes, looking halfway amused. Shit, the day he actually makes you laugh he’s gonna have to bake a cake. “You’re not here to see it.” 

“Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?” He passes you back your phone, having added his order to your cart. “They’ve just added a slew of new movies to Netflix. Also, for tomorrow, do you prefer pasta or chicken?” 

[love-lilacs]

as simple as that | tyler owens x reader (18+)

“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.

You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you.

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI. porn w minimal plot, not beta read. smut. unprotected pnv (wrap it before you tap it pls). oral, m+f receiving. spanking. dirty talk. no use of y/n. slumby in a truck on the side of the road yk.

word count: 3.7k

It’s the middle of the night. The middle of the fucking night, and you’re tucked into the passenger seat of Tyler’s beat up red truck as you make your way through the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma. There aren’t any streetlights here, and the last car you saw was nearly an hour ago. 

“Tyler, the storm will still be forming tomorrow morning. Please, lets just pull over and get some sleep.” 

He shakes his head stubbornly, “It’s better if we make it tonight.” 

You huff, crossing your arms. “We won’t perform any better if you’re half-asleep while we’re chasing.”

“Darlin’ when have you ever known me to half-ass anything?”

You grit your teeth, unwilling to concede. “There’s a first time for everything.” 

Another half-hour passes in silence with only the tinny music crooning from the radio to fill the air. 

It annoys you, how perfect the great Tyler Owens is. He was the big man on campus back in college, 4.0 at graduation, party guy, and never turning down a challenge. 

And your personal nemesis, because while you were studying late into the night, he was blacked out at a bar and still managing perfect scores. He would always tease you in class, gently tugging your ponytail or stealing your pretzels during group projects. 

“I’m just saying-” 

You’re interrupted by a loud thunk from underneath the hood. You lean forward, peering through the windshield as if you could miraculously see through the metal to see what went wrong. 

“It’s probably nothing.” Tyler says calmly, anticipating your quip, “we’re only an hour and a half to the hotel. Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll get it checked in the morning.” Even as he speaks, Tyler grips the steering wheel a little tighter, an action you don’t miss in the dark cab. 

Something rattles, as if in response to his assuredness. 

“Oh yeah, it sure sounds like nothing.” You snark, turning to face him.

“Just relax, would ya?” Tyler snaps. “I know my truck.”

Silence fills the air as the truck begins to loose speed, the hood steaming as the two of you come to a slow, rumbling stop. On the side of the road, in Bumfuck, Oklahoma. 

Tyler must be reading your mind as he whips open his door and points a finger at you. “Don’t go anywhere.” He slams his door shut before you have a second to respond, circling the front to open up the hood. 

“Couldn’t if I wanted to!” You call sarcastically at his slammed door. Huffing out a sigh as you wait, petulant and childish as you sulk. 

But you aren’t good at waiting, and you aren’t half awful with mechanical things, so you jump out and join Tyler at the front of his truck. You stare down at the mess of metal and the steaming engine. 

“I can’t get it going again tonight.” He begrudgingly admits. “We’re going to have to wait until tomorrow morning for Triple A or someone on the team to get us.” 

“You’re fucking kidding.” You groan, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“It’s not half bad out here.” He muses, looking around. “We have our sleeping bags and blankets. We can just stretch out in the truck bed and sleep there.”

“Seriously, Tyler? That’s your best idea? Motel Owens?”

“Do you have a better one?” He fires back, putting his hands on his hips. “If so, I’d love to hear it. The next town isn’t for another fifteen miles, the team is blacked out at the motel, and even if they weren’t, there’s no service to call. Even if we walk, we aren’t getting there until daylight anyways.”

“If you had just listened at the last town-”

“Fuck! Okay! I get it! I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know the truck would break down.” Tyler yells, stepping closer to you. 

“It’s not my fault your truck is old and shitty!” You yell back. 

“No, but you could be less of a dick about all of this. I’m not trying to piss you off, but you because you hate me you’re apparently determined to make me feel like shit!”

You open your mouth and close it. Your faces are inches apart, only illuminated by his headlights. You feel his breath coming quickly, in cool puffs from whatever mints he kept popping, and for a split second your eyes dart down to his lips. You don’t say anything and neither does he, chests heaving as if waiting for the other to say something. 

“Can we just suck it up for tonight?” He says lowly. 

You swallow thickly and nod.

“Good.” He steps backwards, slamming the hood and going to grab the bedding to make up his truck bed, leaving you standing alone and questioning the sudden desire you’ve had to kiss Tyler Owens. 

When he’s done creating a makeshift bed, you clamber into the truck next to him. Neither you or him have changed into sleep clothes, him in those stupidly tight jeans and flannel, you in linen shorts and a tiny t-shirt. Not the most comfortable sleep clothes, but you both seem determined not to complain to the other.

Tyler gave you the right side, knowing you like to be on that side of the bed in whatever hotel you crash in. He gave you the only sleeping bag you have, leaving him covered only by a thin fleece blanket. It’s springtime in Oklahoma, and while its been warm for the last few days, the incoming storm brings a cold front that leaves you wishing you had a sweatshirt and that you couldn’t feel him curling tightly into himself to try and keep himself warm.  

You tuck your hand under your chin, musing to yourself about Tyler’s chivalry. He wasn’t bragging, and knew without asking. You know each other more well than either of you would ever like to admit. 

So you don’t hate Tyler. Maybe you like how determined he is to contribute to every project equally. Maybe you love how much he strives to make everyone feel included, and how he volunteers in towns that storms have hit badly, searching through rubble for precious lost items and offering free food to the locals. Maybe you steal his food right back, secretly hoping he doesn’t eat the blue and red sour gummy worms because he knows you like those best, buying the spicy pretzels because he off-handedly mentioned that he really liked them the first time you brought them. You don’t hate Tyler Owens at all, in fact you might like him more than you can possibly handle. 

You’re both facing away from each other, staring at the walls of the truck bed. You roll over to face him, greeted with his plaid covered back, the blanket comically small and barely covering his waist to feet. 

“Tyler?” You ask tentatively.

He grunts out a “Hm,” in response. 

“I don’t hate you.” You say meekly.

There’s a pregnant pause, filled with the sound of crickets from the nearby field. Tyler rolls over. “Sure have a funny way of showing it, darlin’.”

“Well, I-I don’t. I’m sorry if I made you think so.”

“It’s okay.” 

Crickets again, and you can’t help but notice him shiver again as a rough breeze lifts the ends of his hair from his forehead. Abruptly, you sit up, yanking down the edge of your t-shirt where it had ridden up and unzipping the sleeping bag. 

“What are you doing?” Tyler asks groggily. 

“You’re clearly cold. We’re both adults. We can share the sleeping bag like a blanket for tonight.”

Tyler’s green eyes are wide in the moonlight, looking up at you uncertainly.

“Really, darlin’, it’s okay. I don’t want you to-”

“Tyler, we’re sharing a blanket. It’s not like I’m asking you to cuddle or something.”

“You don’t want to?” Tyler teases, propping himself up onto his elbow, that relaxed, crooked grin making an appearance on his face. 

You laugh and it comes easily as your cheeks go pink, imagining your body pressed against Tyler’s, him holding you close. “Are you asking?”

Tyler shrugs, laying down again with the sleeping bag covering him and an open space for you next to him. “Just to stay warm, right?”

You swallow hard, nodding slightly. You can’t deny that you want to cuddle him.

“Right.” You echo, laying down next to him. 

Your back is pressed to his front as he tucks the sleeping bag and blanket into your side to trap any heat from escaping. Tyler carefully tucks a thigh between your knees, wrapping his arm around your middle to secure your bodies together. 

“That alright?” Tyler asks, voice husky and breathy in your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as heat pools in your core.

You nod quickly, not trusting your voice not to waver and betray you. Tyler’s chest is firm and comforting at your back, his arm securing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. His breath comes in soft, even puffs against your neck. However close you were to sleep before, its all gone now. 

Tyler has consumed your senses. His touch, his scent, his voice, and you’re becoming very aware of his hardening cock against your ass. 

Fuck it, you decide, testing the waters and grinding ever so slightly back against him.

The soft groan he lefts out surprises you both and you freeze. Tyler grinds forward into your plush ass, pulling you ever tighter as he whispers.

“Now darlin’, I know that wasn’t an accident.”

You respond by grinding back again, whimpering as you feel him against you. He’s so close to where you want him and yet so far. 

“Please?” Is all you can manage, squeezing your eyes shut in anticipation. Wether for in preparation for rejection or mortification, you aren’t sure. Tyler flips you over to face him, green eyes searching your own for any sort of hesitation or regret. 

“Kiss me.” You beg fervently, running a thumb over his lower lip. “Please, Tyler.”

You don't have to tell him twice as he surges into you. It’s hard and rough, yet romantic in a way that only he could manage to pull off. Those mints are still on his breath and you find yourself addicted to the taste as it mingles with the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Tyler’s tongue prods gently into your mouth, exploring with gentle fervor. 

You’ve never understood just how romantic kissing with tongue could be until this moment. 

Tyler bites your lower lip, taking advantage of your shocked moan to haul you on top of him, cradling your cheek gently as he presses your body to his. He’s warm and smells intoxicating, like sandalwood and sage. You can feel him pressing into your thigh. 

Tyler’s fingers trail up your shirt, tracing the underwire of your bra. You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head as he stares at you with what must be awe. His lips are kiss-bitten and swollen but his eyes are wide as he takes in the view of you topless and perched on his thighs. 

He surges up to meet you, kissing you again and letting his hands rove over the newly revealed skin. Your body shudders with anticipation as he reaches behind him to yank off his own shirt. Toned, tan skin meets your hungry gaze and your eyes catch on a newly revealed scar at the base of his neck. You must know what it feels like under your tongue, so you attach your lips to it, biting softly.

Tyler lets out a guttural groan, filling his large hands with your ass through your jean shorts. 

You grind down onto him, moaning as the rough fabric of his jeans catch on your shorts just right. You must be soaked through your panties. Still, you rock forwards on his groin, him guiding your movements. Need is pooling in your lower abdomen- it must be pathetic how close you are just from grinding on him. Your motion becomes quicker, chasing a high you never knew could come so quickly.

“Does that feel good?” Tyler prompts, slapping your ass.

“Yes!” You cry out, raking your nails down his pecs to his abs. Ignoring the throbbing in your cunt from your abandoned orgasm, you slide down his body to mouth at him over his jeans. Eyes darting up to meet his, he gasps as you pull the zipper down. 

“Shit, baby. You gotta let me have a chance to-”

You don’t give him a chance to finish, instead trailing your hand to the waistband of his jeans. The soft hair of his happy trail meets your fingers as you dip your fingers inside and grab his thick cock. 

He groans like he’s been punched, when you first reach your fingers around him. Tyler changes his grip to fist his hands in your hair as you pull his jeans and boxers down, taking him out. 

No wonder he walks around like he does. He’s long and thick, with a thick vein trailing down the side. His tip is swollen and leaking cum, a rosy pink color you’d love to have a lipstick shade in, making you question why you’re waiting so long to have him in your mouth. 

When you first wrap your lips around him, Tyler sighs, the sound music to your ears as you take him more and more. What you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump gently with your fist. His breaths are coming in short jagged bursts.

“Fuck.” He cries out as you start bobbing your head. “I can’t believe I’ve been letting you run your mouth all this time when I could’ve been using it for- shit, this.” 

You love having the weight of him on your tongue, love the taste of him as you bring him closer to the edge. 

Abruptly, he pulls you off of him, eyes wild and crazed as he pulls you up to his mouth again. “I don’t want this to be over too fast, baby. I’ve gotta get my mouth on that pretty cunt.”

You let out a moan without thinking and he smirks.

“You like the idea of that, huh baby?”

You nod and he smiles, laying you down on your back. Where you were quick and eager, he was slow, taking his time as though you were something to be worshiped. Tyler took his time making his way down your chest, sucking your nipple into one mouth while he flicked the other with his fingers. You moaned softly as he lifted up his head, blowing cool air onto the hard bud. 

When he finally makes his way down to your core, you squirm. He presses a kiss over the top of your underwear before sliding them down your legs. Tyler spreads your legs, using his shoulders to hold you open as he drags a thick finger through your sopping folds, pausing to suck the finger into his mouth. 

“So goddamn’ wet, tell me how bad you need it, baby.” Tyler breathes, settling in. He rubs slow, tight circles on your clit, light enough to leaving you keening into his touch. He watches you intently as he waits for your reaction.

“So bad,” You whisper, “so, so bad.”

“What do you want?” Tyler teases, nudging your hole with his fingers. But he hold back, not quite giving you what you want without you asking.

“Your fingers. Your mouth, please Tyler.”

Tyler smirks, pushing his fingers into you and you gasp at the sweet intrusion. “Please, Tyler.” He mimics you, “I could get used to hearing that. Lucky for you, I’m desperate to taste your sweet pussy.”

He doesn’t give you a second to think, much less respond as he leans forward and licks a long stripe through you, thrusting and curling his fingers as he down so. You clench around him as he manages to find the right spot, barely curling his fingers before doing do. 

You gasp, pressing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound.

“Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, darlin’.” He pulls your arm down, hand away from your mouth and lacing his unoccupied fingers through yours. His forearm bands across your waist, holding you in place as he sets his unwavering pace, rubbing your clit gently through it all. 

When he finally wraps his lips around your aching clit, you nearly scream, feeling him smirk into your wetness as the sound reaches his ears. “Atta girl. So sweet, baby. Come for me, I know you wanna.”

You can’t control yourself as you chase your high, grinding into his face. He moans as you do so, encouraging you as you chase your high. The sight of Tyler between your legs is nearly unholy, him deriving as much pleasure from it as you are. The thought turns you on even more as you feel back, all shame lost as you squeeze your eyes shut and stars bloom behind the shut lids. 

“Atta girl. Come for me baby, you’re so beautiful. This pussy is so sweet, so sweet for me. You gonna come for me? Let me feel this pussy come for me.”

Your high washes over you in a wave, warmth surrounding you as he works you gently through it. It finally starts to calm as Tyler presses a kiss you your clit, causing you to jolt up.

“‘S sensitive.” You whisper as he comes up to you, kissing you sweetly. His chin is wet, dripping with you and you can taste yourself on his tongue. The thought makes you want him more. 

“You did so good for me, baby.”  

You peel your eyes open as Tyler nudges his nose against yours. The action is sweet, but your mind isn’t on sweet. His cock is still resting against your thigh, throbbing, hard, and you’re desperate to be stuffed with it.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t fuck me in the next minute, I’m going to kill you.” 

Tyler laughs, then groans, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom.”

“Don’t care.” You mumble, kissing him, “I’m clean and on birth control.”

Tyler groans, pressing his cock to your dripping pussy. “Thank fuck. Me too.” 

He pushes in slowly, and you grip his shoulders, lips ghosting over his in a silent moan when he bottoms out. Tyler stays still to let you adjust, an oddly romantic gesture. Then again, your last boyfriend didn’t give you a chance to adjust to the feeling and he wasn’t anywhere near Tyler’s size. Tyler must know that too, based on the gentle praise he’s whispering into your ear.

“Gotta move, baby.” Tyler says after a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 

You nod, digging your nails into his back and gripping the short blonde strands at the base of his neck, looking down at where your bodies join. You watch as Tyler pulls his hips from yours, relishing as the drag of his cock against your velvet walls. Tyler trusts back in sharply and you cry out as he sets a bruising pace. The way he moves is intoxicating, playing your body like a violin as he works you towards your high with just his cock. 

“You take it so fucking good, darlin’.” Jake sighs into your ear. You can only cry out in response as he hits that spot inside you again and again. 

Tyler trails his fingers down your body, never ceasing his movements as his fingers reach your swollen clit. He rubs tight circles on the nub, determined not to reach his high before you can get yours. 

“Tell me who makes you feel this good.” 

“You, Tyler!” You maon breathlessly, tugging at his hair again, “So good. You’re so fucking good.”

Tyler groans shamelessly into your ear. 

“Atta girl. I know you want it. Come for me, baby. Let go.”

Stars bloom from behind your eyes as your whole body goes hot, coming with his names on your lips. You feel like Jell-O as he pulls your orgasm from your body. Yet, he slows down as your clench around him, coming down from your high. 

When you open your eyes, Tyler is gazing sweetly down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “All good, darlin’?” 

You don’t say anything, rolling your hips in response. You take advantage of his shocked expression and agape mouth to slip off of him and flip him over. Before he can open his mouth to speak, you’ve mounted him and are riding him within an inch of your own life. 

Tyler’s emerald eyes are wide as he gazes up at you, running his hands from your hips to your breasts, squeezing tightly as he gasps sharply. He thrusts up to meet you with every rock of your hips. Tyler is looking at you like you hung the moon and stars, pure wonder in his eyes. It only spurs you on; you like being under his gaze. 

“Gon- gonna- fuck, baby.” Tyler moans, “so fucking good for me.”

You rake your nails down his chest as he thrusts quickly and messily. You don’t stop as you feel him spill inside you. Slowly, you still your movements and slip off of him. He turns to look at you as you flop next to him. Tyler doesn’t say anything as he pulls you into his side, brushing a thumb up and down your spine. 

“Never would have taken Tyler Owens for a cuddler.” You mumble, kissing gently at his pec. You feel his laugh rumble though his chest. You tangle your legs with his, snuggling closer to him. 

“Is this just a tonight thing?” His voice permeates the silence.

You sigh, looking up at him. For once, he looks unsure and timid, afraid of your answer. 

“If you want it to be.” Is what you reply, feeling nerves settle in the pit of your stomach at his question. 

“Honestly? I don’t. Been chasing you for years, baby.”

“So ask me out.” You sit up, legs still tangled with his and blanket pooling around your waist, “and I’ll say yes.”

Tyler swallows hard, eyes catching on your exposed chest and pebbled nipples. “As simple as that?”

“As simple as that.” You smile reassuringly, placing a hand on his cheek. Tyler turns his head slightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the palm of your had. Instead of saying anything else, he pulls you back down into a searing kiss, holding you close as the sound of the Oklahoma night lulls you both to sleep.

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 4 | spencer reid.

"Focus here, sweetie."

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content, suggestive as fuck, making out, nipple stuff (my finger slipped), fluff

a/n: this made me feral

He had been gone for weeks. 

You hadn’t seen Spencer in almost four weeks after your little date at his desk. Case after case came through and he and his team were sent all over the country. You came to understand that Spencer’s job was hectic, wondering how any of them had social lives at all with how often they were called into work only to disappear for days or weeks at a time.

Spencer had called you a handful of times while he was in Illinois, telling you all about the UnSub they caught while you were half asleep working late at your desk. But after that, it was radio silence from Spencer and you could only assume he was neck deep in work just like you. 

You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair with a loud sigh. You were sure your boss had it out for you, given how you were basically the last one in the office trying to finish up a project. You tried to take it as a compliment that they trusted you to handle these things but god you just wanted to go home, pour a glass of wine, put on a face mask and pretend to have your shit together.

The exhaustion made your eyelids feel heavy and your vision blurry. You let out a tired yawn, attempting to blink away the deep desire to crawl under your desk and nap. The sudden buzz of your phone kept you from nodding off at your computer.

Spence: Are you home?

You: Nah, I’m at work, sorry :(

Spence: Still? Isn’t it a bit late?

You: What can I say, I’m an ass-kisser

Spence: Have you had anything to eat?

You: Not yet, I’ll worry about that later

Spencer read your message but didn’t reply. You turned your focus back to your work, sipping on your cold coffee to hopefully bring you back to earth. After forty-five minutes and another two cups of coffee, you finally finished your project. You were in the midst of sending a half-assed email to your project manager when you heard the elevator ding.

“Is Y/N still here?” You heard Spencer’s voice and your heart fluttered.

“Oh yeah, she’s just around the corner,” one of your coworkers replied. You rolled your chair back from your desk, peering around the corner as a lost little Spencer looked around.

“Spencer?” You called softly. His eyes darted to the sound of your voice, his face lighting up at the sight of you. He looked so precious in his sweater, with his messy hair and mismatched colourful socks. He did a little run down the row of cubicles to your desk, holding a plastic bag of what you assumed was takeout. 

You stood up to greet him, the exhaustion suddenly dissipating, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to bring you dinner,” he replied, holding the bag of the best smelling food out for you. 

You pouted at the gesture, “Spencer, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. As a thank you for bringing me dinner the other week,” he said with a smile. 

“Wait… how did you know where to find me?” You raised a brow at him, staring at him sideways. Spencer’s face went red, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I’m sure you told me,” he lied.

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Garcia maybe… did some digging,” he replied under his breath, staring at everywhere but you.

You playfully punched his shoulder, “you stalker,” you laughed. 

You pulled another chair over for Spencer, sitting down at your desk and finally pulling your dinner out. You don’t know where Spencer found this food but it was probably the best thing you’d ever eaten… but you also hadn’t fed yourself in 12 hours so maybe your judgement was slightly skewed. 

“When did you get back?” you asked, mouth full of food.

“Two hours and four minutes ago,” Spencer replied, playing with the little Hello Kitty figurines on your desk. 

“Spencer!” you scolded. “You must be exhausted!”

“I’m okay, really,” he quickly said. He let out a breath, shyly avoiding your gaze, “and… I wanted to see you.”

You smiled softly at his confession, reaching over to move some of his messy hair out of his face, “you’re cute.”

“Thank you,” he beamed.

The two of you sat at your desk for another hour as you ate your dinner and finished up your passive-aggressive email to your manager. Spencer helped you clean up your small collection of mugs and carried your bag for you while you cleaned up your desk. You walked to the elevator together, reaching up to gently grasp Spencer’s hand in your own.

“This okay?” You asked.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he replied quickly, feeling his hands going clammy and praying you didn’t notice.

You were lucky you lived within walking distance to your job, it proved to be very convenient for exercise and the price of fuel didn’t murder your already dusty bank account. Spencer opted to drive you home since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. You tried to offer him cash for fuel but he waved you off (you hit twenty dollars in his glove box). 

Spencer pulled up outside your apartment building, the two of you sitting in a comfortable silence for a moment before you spoke, “you… want to come up?”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, sure I can,” Spencer replied nervously, clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to,” you laughed.

“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly, putting his car in park and taking his keys out of the ignition. 

The two of you walked up to your apartment, Tofu rubbing against Spencer’s leg upon his arrival. Spencer was delighted by this revelation (he’d done a lot of research on cats after finding out you had a cat).

“Did you know cats rub up against you like this as a way of putting their scent on you?” Spencer said, running his hand along Tofu’s back, “so other cats know you’re theirs?”

“I didn’t know that,” you lied, of course you knew. But you would never let Spencer stop talking. You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over one of the chairs at your kitchen table. “Make yourself comfy, I’m just gonna go change.”

Spencer watched as you walked to your bedroom, Tofu trotting behind you. He awkwardly shuffled around your apartment, admiring the polaroid photos stuck to your fridge of what he assumed was your friends from your hometown. He smiled softly at how happy you looked. A particular photo of you at a halloween party made his face heat up. You were wearing a white lacy bralette, a white skirt and angel wings. Your friend next to you was dressed like the devil and your other friend dressed as… the Pope?

But that’s not what caught his eye, it was the fact he could clearly see your breasts through your see through top. He could see the little gold studs on either side of your pert nipples, truly juxtaposing the whole angel costume. Spencer had honestly almost forgotten you had your nipples pierced (no he didn’t).

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” you almost scared Spencer out of his skin. He was so distracted by your… assets, he didn’t hear you leave your room.

“Uh, nothing- nothing… just this,” he grabbed the closest thing to him, which happened to be your toaster.

“My… toaster?” your eyes narrowed.

“Yup, love this model,” Spencer nodded, putting your pink toaster back down on the counter. 

You glanced at the polaroids on your fridge, deciding not to embarrass him further, “you want a drink? I have wine, wine and… wine?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I need to drive home,” Spencer waved you off before shoving his hands in his pockets. Spencer glanced at your outfit, the baby blue tank and grey shorts made a comeback and now he was rethinking the whole ‘wanna come up?’ scheme. 

“How bout a coffee?” you asked.

Spencer gave a tight-lip smile, “Sure.”

You made Spencer his coffee and watched as he almost emptied your sugar jar. You poured yourself a glass of wine before sitting down on your plush couch, patting the spot next to you for Spencer. He sat down next to you, taking a sip of his sugar drink. He looked positively adorable drinking coffee from your Kirby mug.

“You should tell me about your recent case,” you said, tucking your legs under your butt, giving Spencer your undivided attention. 

“...You want to hear about that?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Duh, of course,” you retorted. “I like listening to you talk, Spencer.”

Spencer’s heart quickened at your genuine words, making him beam internally and his brain turn to mush. Spencer proceeded to tell you about the BAU’s most recent case, a string of seemingly unrelated murders of college students at house parties. Your heart leapt to your throat when Spencer told you how the UnSub started shooting at him and Emily before he was arrested. 

“If you get shot, I’ll be so mad,” you told him after he finished his story.

“Okay, I’ll try not to get shot,” Spencer grinned, “so you won’t get mad.”

“Correct answer,” you nodded, downing the last of your wine. Spencer watched you as you stretched your arms over your head, a yawn pulling from your wine-stained lips. His eyes darted to your blue tank top, one of the thin straps falling off your shoulder. Your apartment was cold and your nipples pressed against the thin fabric of your top.

Spencer reached a hand over, gently lifting the strap of your top back over your shoulder, his warm hands making the hairs on your skin prickle. You glanced up at Spencer as he retracted his hand, quickling reaching your own hand out to grab his wrist.

Spencer stared at you with wide eyes, so beautiful and brown.

“Do you… want to see?” You asked quietly, your voice low.

Spencer looked at you, unsure of what you meant, “See what?”

You smiled, “My piercings,” you clarified.

Spencer felt like he exploded. His cheeks went red at the idea of seeing your breasts and the tiny intimate piercing he had only seen through your shirt and in his mind late at night. Sure, he had seen breasts before but he had never seen yours and that’s what made him nervous. 

“I know you must be curious,” you said after Spencer didn’t reply. Spencer opened his mouth, attempting to form a single coherent thought. “Earth to Spencer?” you sang softly.

“I, uhm-”

“You don’t want to?” You asked.

“No, I do!” He quickly said before the weight of what he said hit him, “Wait, no… Y/N, I like you and I don’t want you to think that I’m only here to see… that,” he gestured vaguely.

You grabbed his hand gently, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, “I like you too, Spence,” you muttered, his eyes finally meeting yours, “and I don’t think that you’re only here for that, trust me, guys have before and you’re not them.”

Spencer felt jealousy at the thought of other men seeing such an intimate part of you nag at the back of his mind. You watched his expression change, knowing his big genius brain was in overdrive. You reached a hand up to cup his face gently, bringing his attention back to you.

“Focus here, sweetie,” you whispered with a smile.

“Sorry,” Spencer whispered back.

“I don’t have to show you if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“I am curious,” Spencer interrupted, his voice nervous and quiet. You let out an airy laugh at his sweetness and let go of his face, sitting up straight.

Spencer swallowed the painful lump in his throat as you crossed your arms, fingers grasping the hem of your tank top. His eyes never left yours as you lifted the fabric over your heart, your breasts fully on display for him to see.

It took all of Spencer’s courage to glance down.

And god you were perfect.

Your breasts were smooth and soft, your nipples hard against the chilly air of your apartment. If Spencer were any less respectable, he would be drooling. His eyes stared at the gold jewellery threaded through your hard nipples. He had never seen anything quite as attractive as this and he was sure that nipple piercings were the single greatest thing to ever exist.

“...You’re giving me the wrong idea, Spence,” you chuckled after he stayed quiet for several minutes, simply admiring your beauty.

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly said, “You’re just…”

“Bit weird, you think?”

“Perfect,” he said, looking up at you again. “You’re just… perfect.”

A small smile graced your lips, “Do you… want to touch?”

“I-I’m not very good at… any of this,” Spencer quickly replied, all he wanted to do was impress you and this was sending him spiralling. 

“I don’t care about that, Spencer,” you grabbed his hand, “I like you, I trust you and I want it if you do.”

Spencer kept his eyes on you, “I… Yes. I want to.” He let you guide his hand to your breast. His hand was warm and large, cupping the soft plush skin gently. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt your soft skin, curious and nimble fingers exploring your skin. His thumb came up to touch the cool metal of your piercing, your breath catching in your throat at the feeling, “Sorry,” he quickly said, pulling his hand away.

“No, no, it’s okay… they’re just sensitive. An added perk of nipple piercings,” you replied. Spencer nodded, taking a mental note as his hand reached back out to touch your skin again. 

You wrapped your hand gently around his wrist, catching his attention. Spencer’s beautiful eyes stared into yours and you lost it. Your hands reached out, pulling him in by his tie to plant a hard kiss against his lips. Spencer’s hand cupped the side of your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Your hands came to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

He pulled away to breathe, thumb stroking over your cheek, “are you okay with this?” he whispered slowly.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then so am I.”

That was all the encouragement Spencer needed to kiss you again, pulling you closer until you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling his waist as you kissed him. You tasted slightly of wine and sweetness, the smell of your perfume sending him dizzy. Spencer’s hands came down to rest on your waist, his thumbs resting against your ribs. 

“You want to keep going?” You asked breathlessly against his lips.

“I don’t want to stop,” Spencer replied just as breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You whined softly as one of his hands reached up to grasp your breast again, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your pert nipple. 

“Spencer,” you whined, your hands grasping at the hair on the back of his neck. He planted a kiss on the column of your throat, then another to the small divot of your collarbone, and another to your sternum. His fingers gently pinched your nipple, making you whine softly. “Not good at this, my ass,” you breathed.

“I have an IQ of 187,” Spencer retorted, “I remember a lot.”

“Clearly,” you replied, lifting his head back up to kiss him again.

a/n: i hope everyone is okay with the lack of smut, i just want everyone to feel comfy (i'll totally write it in a future chapter ;) if you want tho)

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 9)

Word count: 2100

Warnings: mommy kink, rough sex, bondage, spanking, oral, overstimulation

Taglist: @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos

You don’t hear from Agatha after that for a day and a half. 

You can’t help but feel like you did something wrong. Was it making her pull over on the side of the road because your needy cunt was begging to be filled by her cock? Was it taking her hand with yours and holding it for the rest of the drive to get pizza? She didn’t seem to mind in either moment. 

Nothing else had happened Monday night once you two had come back to the house. She had given you a chaste kiss in the car, telling you to behave, and you had. The hug you’d given her before you left for the night was the picture of appropriateness. 

Everything had been fine, so why was she icing you out like this? 

It’s sixth period on Wednesday when you finally get a response from her. 

You’re sitting in Biology, textbook standing straight on your desk to hide your phone, staring at your messages with Agatha. 

You’ve sent probably close to thirty texts since Monday night, all of them going unanswered. You were confused at first, then angry, then sad, these emotions spilling into your various messages. 

I had a really nice time with you tonight ;) 

Hey, everything okay? 

Agatha what the fuck 

I’m sorry for whatever I did, please just talk to me. 

You’re wondering if you should send another one now when suddenly, the bubble with three dots pops up. 

She’s typing. 

For the first time in a day and a half, she’s not actively ignoring you. You hold your breath, almost afraid to keep watching. 

Sorry I haven’t replied. Come over after school? 

No explanation for the radio silence. You feel bitter and debate not answering just so she gets some kind of semblance of the hell you’ve been going through. 

But it’s Agatha and she has you under her spell. You can’t imagine not obeying.

Okay. You type back. 

You get a gut feeling that tells you something is wrong. 

Fuck. Did your dad find out about you two? The thought sends your heart racing and nausea climbs into your throat. 

You tell yourself that surely your dad would’ve said something to you if he had found out that you and his wife were fucking. This rational thought helps a little bit but you know that something isn’t right. So if it’s not that, then what is it?

You completely pour over every single interaction you’ve had with Agatha and this consumes you until the last bell of the day rings. You don’t even remember walking across the hall to seventh period but you clearly must have. 

On the drive to your dad’s house, a pit grows in your stomach with every turn that brings you closer to an inevitable confrontation. You absolutely hate conflict.  

You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. Your palms are sweaty and your heart feels like it’s pounding in your throat. You remind yourself to breathe. 

Agatha opens the door and moves to the side to let you in. “Hey,” she says quietly. 

And that sets you off. “‘Hey?’ That’s all you’re going to say? I haven’t heard from you since Monday! I texted you like a million times and you say ‘hey?’ What the actual fuck, Agatha?” 

Pain flashes in her eyes and then it’s gone. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Things were happening, I was busy.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Were you also busy when you fucked me in your bed? In your car? When I went down on you on the couch and made you cum harder than my dad ever did?” You wish you hadn’t brought up all those memories because now you’re angry and turned on. 

At the mention of your dad, she grabs your wrist with a bruising grip and drags you upstairs. She brings you into her room and shoves you against the wall with unnecessary roughness, her lips catching yours in a harsh kiss. She bites your lip so hard that your mouth fills with blood and you hate how hot you find it when she licks it off her own lips. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, seeing the black glint in her eyes. Something is off. 

But she doesn’t answer, only slides her hand up to clasp your throat. Your breath hitches in spite of yourself and her eyes darken. “Do you trust me?” 

“Yes,” you say without thinking. You know you shouldn’t let her touch you until she explains herself, but you are too desperate to feel her hands on you again. Her face lights up in a wicked way and she leads you to the bed and shoves you down so your stomach is on the bed, ass in the air. She flips your skirt up and you shiver at the cold air on your bottom. 

You can almost hear her grin as she slides her fingers up and down your covered slit. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve become from her practically manhandling you. 

“Good,” she says and her hand cracks down on your ass. You gasp and lurch forward on the bed, the sting clearing all the thoughts in your head. 

“Fuck!” 

Her hand tangles in your hair and she pulls you up so your back is now flush against her front. “Count for me,” she whispers lowly in your ear and then lets you go so you fall back onto the bed. 

“One,” you say weakly. 

She spanks you again and your hands grapple with the bed sheets. 

“Two.” 

Again. 

“Three.” The pain has started bleeding into pleasure and you begin slowly rocking your hips against the bed to release some of the tension building between your legs. 

“Ah, ah,” she tuts, hands grabbing your waist, holding you still. Her fingers dig into the skin and you inhale sharply. “Don’t move.” 

“Mommy,” you beg, panting for more. You have to tense your muscles so you don’t start grinding again after she slaps you again. “Four.” 

“Almost done, sweetheart,” she coos, rubbing her hands on your ass cheeks, soothing the burn. Agatha literally has to peel your underwear off because of how wet you are. She then spreads your thighs even more and takes in the sight of you. “Oh, baby, you like this a lot, don’t you? You’re dripping onto the bed.”

You keen and nod your head pathetically. 

“Last one. You’re being such a good girl for mommy.” 

You arch your back in preparation, but this time, she smacks her hand straight on your pussy, fingers landing directly on your clit. You cum from just the bit of stimulation with a guttural moan and she watches in awe as your body contorts. 

“Five,” you say weakly, once you’ve come down from your wave of pleasure, just in case she wants you too. She laughs and flips you over, not giving you any time to recover before burying her head between your legs. Your back shoots off the bed and your hands immediately find purchase in her hair when her tongue gives you a filthy lick but she stops. 

“No touching,” she warns. 

“But, mommy!” you protest. 

She stands up and walks to her nightstand, your cunt cold against the air now that she’s not near you. 

Agatha pulls something out and walks back over to you. “Move to the top of the bed,” she instructs. You do without hesitation. She climbs on top of you, showing you the two lines of rope that were behind her back. You whimper involuntarily. “Are you okay with this?” 

“Yes,” you rasp, too quickly and she chuckles evilly. She leans down to give you a quick peck on the lips and then she makes quick work of tying you to the bed banisters. 

“Not too tight?” She checks and you move your wrists experimentally. You feel like with the right amount of force, you could free yourself if you needed to. 

“They’re good,” you say, voice clouded with lust. “Can you–” And then you stop, unsure if it’s okay to ask. 

“What do you want, baby girl?” Her fingers stroke your thighs reassuringly. 

“Canyoufuckmewithyourcock,” you spit out. She raises an eyebrow, silently prodding you to slow down. You try again, forcing yourself to pause after each word. “Can you fuck me with your cock?” 

She groans out loud. “Such a good girl, using your words like that. Since you took my spanking so well, I think I can arrange that.” She goes back to the same drawer where the restraints were and pulls out her harness and strap. She shimmies out of her pants and hastily gets ready for you. Your hips have started undulating ever so slightly in anticipation. 

She climbs back on the bed, rubs her strap-on against your opening to lube it up, and then slowly pushes in. You immediately feel better with the fullness, your anxiety at Agatha’s weird silence the last few days ebbing away. She gives you a second to adjust to the size and then starts fucking you like an unhinged woman. 

She snaps her hips with every fast thrust, pulling a strangled noise out of you each time. You’re both panting with the exertion and one of her hands finds your throat again. She squeezes and your cunt clenches around her cock, making it harder for her to move. 

“Mommy, fuck, yes,” you sob, the pleasure making you lightheaded. All of your senses are completely overridden by her. All you can feel is Agatha and you wish more than anything you could touch her. But being tied up and completely at her mercy is driving you absolutely crazy. “I’m so close.” 

You can feel her smirking against your skin where she’s leaving bite marks and then soothing the spots with her lips. She keeps fucking you just right. 

“Don’t cum yet,” she says, voice gruff. You whine and she grabs your chin with the hand that was around your throat and turns it roughly so you’re making eye contact with her. “Who do you belong to?” 

She picks up the intensity of her thrusts, if possible. You’re teetering on the edge. “You, mommy, only you!” You wail. 

“Good girl,” she purrs. “Cum for me.” As if you’d be able to stop yourself. 

Your second orgasm hits you much more intensely and you can’t stop chanting her name as she fucks you through it. Your mind goes blank for a second in the bliss. 

She pulls out slowly, leaving a gaping emptiness inside you. It doesn’t stay that way for long, though, because after she takes the strap and harness off and throws them across the room, Agatha moves down the bed and thrust her tongue into you. She sucks your clit into her mouth and you gasp at the stimulation. It’s too much as she eats you out with renewed fervor.  

“Mommy, fuck,” you mewl and strain your wrists against the ties. “It hurts.” 

She pauses for a moment to look up at you through hooded eyelashes. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

You nod meekly and she grins, diving back between your folds. It doesn’t take much for her to coax you back to the edge and a few minutes later, you’re crying out her name when you cum for the third time, her hot mouth knowing exactly what to do to make you scream. 

You wince as she gives you one last lick and then she climbs up to pull you into a deep kiss. Her tongue moves into your mouth with raw hunger and you go to put your hands around her before you remember that you’re tied up. Agatha notices that you’re struggling and smirks before untying you. You move your stiff arms around to get the blood flow back. 

“How was that?” Agatha murmurs. 

“Really good,” you answer honestly. Your brow furrows. “Are you okay? You seem a little off.” 

She doesn’t say anything, just lies down on her back on the bed. She motions at you and you cuddle against her body, head resting on her shoulder. Her arm comes around you and you draw soft patterns on her stomach, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin. 

You almost forget that you asked her anything and you’re about to drift off to sleep when she whispers, “Your father is having an affair.” 

[oshygoshy]

1:38 am

word count - 524 words

warnings - slightly suggestive

a/n - wow 2 whole writings?? yeah ik im spoiling my 23 followers...get ready for 4 months of radio silence from me after this though

"how would you describe me to the police if i went missing?" 

"...i'm sorry?"

miya atsumu, professional volleyball player (and who should be asleep by now...!) rolls over, unceremoniously plopping his elbow next to your nose. his shifting weight caused the bed to dip, and you felt your body tipping towards his (because of physics, not for any other reason...!!).

he squinted at you in the dark. "ya heard what i said."

"yeah, and it was stupid. and i'm tired. so please repeat it?" you say, holding back a yawn. "don't you have practice in like...4 and a half hours anyway-"

"hush, baby." (you'd be lying if you didn't get tingles from the pet name.) "jus' answer me?"

you rested your temple on his bicep, curling your body against his (again, physics), and hummed absentmindedly. what a strange question. 

"uhh...suspect has an ath-"

"suspect?? not victim???" he whispered furiously. in the dim moonlight, you could see his eyebrows furrow in mock anger. "whaddya mean suspect??" 

you smirked at his indignation. placing your pointer finger gently over his lips, you gently shushed him. "hush, baby," you mirror him. you could feel his lips twitch down in a frown. 

"ok let me start again. the suspect has an athletic build, is tall, and..." your eyes flit downward (respectfully, to answer his question. nothing more.) "'s pretty muscular."

"pretty mus-excuse me?? i'm very muscular-"

this time, you silence him with a kiss (to shut him up, not for any other reason!!) which works very effectively. he immediately stops talking and places his free hand on your waist. 

"yeah, petty muscular. strong abs-" you punctuate this statement by taking a hand and gently tracing his stomach under his shirt. you could hear his breath stutter, but pretend you don't notice. "great ass," you say with a cheeky giggle as your hand wanders, and he lets out a snort. "and a waist that would make any girl jealous. oh, and the best part?" you move your hand downward. his eyebrows raise but fall back when your hand stops at his thigh. "really nice thighs. like, really nice. they're really juicy, trust me, officer. you'd recognize them from an ocean away." 

your hand pats his thigh politely before you move it back up. 

"got me excited for a sec. yer hand was awfully close to something else for a bit," he mumbled into your hair. 

"whoops," you say, not very apologetic. 

"i don't like it when ya tease me," he continued. 

you push yourself back against his chest, looking at him with a raised brow. "oh, we both know that's a lie." 

he blushed, which you also pretended to not notice. "i don't like it when you tease me and do nothing about it. correction."

you sigh, setting yourself against his body. "well, i'm sleepy and you need to get up early. but.."

"...but?"

"i'm free this weekend," you say nonchalantly. 

he kissed the top of your head, grinning. "deal."

...

"so, who do you think is more muscular than me?"

"tsumu, please."

"it's bokkun, isn't it? it's ok, that's valid. he's really beefy."

"atsumu."

"okay, okay. sorry, sweets. goodnight."

[seungfl0wer]

I need some angst pleeez I love ur writing and would love to see more angst pleez break my heart

So I wanna request something like them calling you clingy or just bothersum? Take ur time tysvm <33

~Sunny ☀️

*Felix Calling You Clingy*

Hello there dear, so I started this and realized I’m probably just gonna have to make this into a small series. So you’ll be getting them all just spread out I hope that’s ok! Also thank you so much for the kind words i greatly appreciate it so much. I hope you like this. I started with Felix first for some reason his just kinda came out so here the first out of 8🩵

Includes: Texts messages, mentions of depression, arguing (of course has a happy ending they all may not though)

Small edit to put one of the messages is a small messed up I forgot to delete a line and I really don’t wanna go back through all of it and redo it😅 I’m sorry

Others here:

Bangchan , Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Lix seemed to be avoiding you lately. You knew he was always pretty busy due to him being an idol however even when he had time off he just never wanted to spend time anymore. It’s been a good 3 weeks with no seeing him. With how he’s been acting and how life’s just been in general it made you depressed. You just kinda felt like you were doing everything wrong and weren’t good enough for him anymore.

It was 4AM, You were tossing and turning just feeling all the weight of everything on you. Your mind was just thinking of everything and anything. You wanted so badly just to message Lix, you really needed him right now. You kept going back and forth on whether you should or not, not wanting to bother him so late with your cry babiness. Before you knew it though you were already typing to him. You knew he was awake by the little green mark that showed he was playing a game you both use to play together. So he was up and online.

You couldn’t respond anymore. Your heart was breaking, you started bawling. All you could do is reply with a “k” which he hated. Which you also hated and only used when you were upset. You grabbed your pillows and all the blankets you could find and made a nest on your bed. Curling up into a ball. The blankets soft against your skin as you buried your face into them. They were the only comfort you could feel right now. You eventually ended up crying yourself to sleep.

How could the man you love say such things to you? How could he just spit so much hateful venom at you. Why not just dump you, just get it over with if he was so unhappy.

The next morning you had woken up to more texts:

Your chest tightened you reread the messages about a million times. Your mind started to spiral a bit. You wanted to cry wanted to yell wanted to beg him but you didn’t. With all the emotions and all the stress lately you went almost numb. The next couple days went by and you started to try and do things to help yourself. You went out with some friends, kept yourself busy with you hobbies and even met some new people online to play games with. One of the best things you decided though was you erased all of Felix’s messages. You couldn’t sit and reread all the stuff that was said. You couldn’t keep making yourself feel the hurt.

You knew lix well, you guys have been dating for almost 2 years now. Did he go about everything in a horrible way? Of fucking course. Are you just gonna forgive him for what he said easily? No, fuck no. However, you knew lix well enough to know what he said is probably eating him alive. Because he does love you and you know that. But he’s a human and sometimes we are just prone to being really fucking stupid sometimes.

After about a week and a half of radio silence on both ends. He messaged you.

After that you two texted a little here and there. He even FaceTimed you a few times just to show you the scenery. When he eventually came home you two sat down at your house to talk.

Felix kept apologizing, both of you were crying by the end of the conversation. Felix told you it wasn’t about you being “clingy” per-say he said he loved being around you but he wanted to make a day when he was off to just do something by himself. Even if it was just a few hours. He said how he felt like he just never gets alone time. How it’s either go go go with schedule, doing stuff with the members, coming to your place. He feels so stretched thin and that’s why he blew up.

He know he did wrong by doing so but you get it. Man could be taking a shit and someone would be trying to talk to him about his job and something. He doesn’t ever get time for himself. You both agreed that you’ll give him space. And the days he’s doing his own thing you won’t text him until he texts you.

He also wanted to assure you he doesn’t think you’re clingy, he loves how you are and wouldn’t change you for anything. He said what he said out of sleepless rage. But he knows he fucked up.

You both needed that night in a pillow fort he built for you, eating snacks, talking about other things and just cuddled up together. You missed him. You missed him so fucking much. Missed the sweet smell of his cologne, his beautiful bright smile decorated with little Hershey kiss freckles, and the most warm comforting laugh in the world. You laid in his arms through the night, it filled with such deep conversations, crying, laughing and more crying but out of happiness this time. You thought to yourself “we are gonna be ok, everyone has arguments but our bond is strong.”

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵