!!!

the fact that i could see each of the chuckle boys as like.. hallmark christmas love interests is so silly to me

and idk if there's anyone out there who knows these movies well, we don't have cable in my house so i've only seen a small handful so if im wrong shhh no im not + also this was written real late so if u see mistakes nuh uh

Ted is the teasing and kind, handsome guy that can't help but show up at all the right places to poke fun at you. He's a friend of your parents who sing his praises mentioning that he's been such a help while you've been away, and he's happy to meet you, saying he's heard much about you from your parents and takes that opportunity to tease but he's also the kind to notice your jacket isn't quite keeping you warm and gives you his scarf, telling him to keep it cause you look better in it than him anyways.

Schlatt is the grew up hotter than you were expecting kind of guy, who has a shocking soft spot for christmas despite how he teased and tormented you as kids. He acts a bit aloof around you at first until he finds out you aren't very fond of Christmas and takes it upon himself to change your mind, bringing you hot chocolate and tricking you into skating under the lights with him and guiding you along the ice because it's been so long since you last went skating, he leads you on this tour around the town showing off all the decorations on the houses only to find yourselves in the big decorated town square under the mistletoe and he's so smug and says he has no idea how that got there but... tradition is tradition after all

Charlie is the childhood neighbour and friend who you slowly grew away from but is glowing to see you and invite you along and open up all these old feelings for him along the way. Everything is a trip down memory lane and your parents can't help but laugh fondly as you two immediately go back to stealing cookies and sneaking onto the roof to sit together and watch the stars, starting snowball fights and smearing flour and icing on each other as you bake. Like the most cutesy cliche things like throwing snow in the air to make it sprinkle down around you or making snow angels. Then finally confessing to each other you both had feelings "before everything" during the annual christmas dance and while he was too scared to when you were younger, he invites you to dance and the two of you are at the centre of the room as the night progresses, never once letting go of each other.

for later

Fruit Correspondences

Apple: spirit work, offerings, love, healing, beauty, wisdom, harvest

Apricot: love, self love

Avocado: beauty, love, lust, fertility, spell work

Banana: wealth, luck, spirituality, religion, masculinity

Blueberry: protection, banishment, curses

Blackberry: protection, fertility, femininity, funerals, afterlife, moving on

Cantaloupe: spell work, protection, grounding, energy work

Cherry: lust, love, fertility

Clementine: childhood, dreams

Coconut: protection, cleansing, femininity

Cranberry: holidays, blood magic, spirit work

Date: fertility, luck, money

Dragon fruit: lust, passion, spell work

Durian: curses, cleansing, protection

Fig: happiness, divination, love

Grapefruit: cleansing

Grape: money, spell work, fertility, offerings

Guava: love, self love, lust

Honeydew: cleansing, energy, love

Jackfruit: divination, spell work, happiness

Kiwifruit: health, love, lust, happiness

Kumquat: luck, health, money

Lemon: cleansing, purification, protection, curse breaking

Lime: cleansing, protection, love

Lychee: love, self love, femininity, beauty

Mango: love, lust, fertility

Nectarine: love, self love, spell work

Orange: cleansing, protection, divination

Papaya: curse breaking, banishing, spirit work, love

Passion fruit: lust, love, passion

Peach: fertility, love, happiness, spirit work

Pear: offerings, happiness, luck, money, confidence

Persimmon: healing, love, luck, protection

Pineapple: protection, health, offerings, money, luck

Plantain: fertility, masculinity, lust, passion

Plum: love, healing, offerings

Pomegranate: offerings, blood magic, fertility, divination, spell work

Prune: cleansing, protection

Raspberry: love, dreams, health

Strawberry: love, wishes, dreams, happiness

Starfruit: lunar/solar magic, spell work, cleansing

Tangerine: solar magic, strength, energy work

Tomato: protection, cleansing, love, passion

Watermelon: healing, femininity, lust, love, spirit work, cleansing

Tip Jar

Too Sweet - Jschlatt

Part 3

Masterlist

Reader is a math teacher who finds her computer science teacher coworker an asshole. Schlatt finds his algebra/geometry coworker very annoying. What happens when they are forced to be around each other and get along?

You see a text message alerting you that Ted is outside your apartment, waiting on you. You grab your purse and make your way to his Tacoma. When you open the passenger side door, Ted smiles at you. “You are full of school spirit,” he says, looking at your outfit.

You decided to wear a t- shirt with your school mascot and corduroy pants of your school color. You also have a pretty headband and earrings to match. “We are going to a game. I am showing my support. Also I wore this to school,” you tell him.

“Well I didn’t see you at school today.” Ted gives you a slight disappointing look.

“I had a lot to catch up on before the weekend started.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

“It had nothing to do with our recent lunch guest?” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope definitely not,” you say.

Ted just rolls his eyes at you. After a few minutes, you arrive at the baseball fields. You both make your way to the gate. “Hello Ms. (Y/L/N) and Mr Nivision. You don't have to pay since you’re both teachers,” Daisy, a past student of yours, tells you.

You both thank her and walk inside. You make your way to the stands taking a seat towards the back. You look out and see Schlatt throwing a ball to a few players in the outfield. You find it annoying how good he looks. His muscular arms flex with each throw. His thick thighs are even more noticeable in the baseball pants he has to wear.

“I’m going to get some popcorn. Do you want anything?” You ask Ted. You decide that you need a distraction and the concession stand sounds like the best option.

“Sure. Popcorn sounds good. Do you want me to go with you?” Ted asks. He hands you a few dollars.

“No, I'll be right back. Also keep your money, I got it.”

Ted smiles at you as he puts his money back. You make your way over to the concession stand. While you wait in line, you see Schlatt go behind the concession stand and grab an orange Gatorade. When it is your time to go up, Schlatt’s attention turns towards you. “Oh hey (Y/N), didn’t think you were actually going to show up. Is Ted here?” he asks you, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah we carpooled,” you tell him. You turn to the parent volunteering, “Can I get two popcorns?”

“That will be three dollars,” she tells you.

You pull the money from your purse and give it to the woman, but Schlatt stops you. “Just put it on my tab, Jennifer. She’s a friend of mine.” The word friend threw you off, but maybe he is just saying it for Ted. It is obvious that one of the popcorns is for him.

Jennifer gets up to grab the popcorn. “It’s three dollars. You didn’t have to do that. I can pay for myself,” you tell him.

“Exactly, It's only three dollars. I’m the coach. I can get whatever I want.” Of course he is going to make this a thing. Instead of arguing, you just let it slide. Schlatt leaves soon after since the game is about to start.

Jennifer returns with your popcorn bags. You thank her and go back to Ted. He takes a bite as soon as you hand him the bag.

You both watch the game, enjoying your popcorn. You are quite impressed with how well the boys are playing. You don’t really understand baseball, but it’s obvious they are doing well based on the score.

Schlatt seems to be happy with their performance as well. You notice his smile as he pats Sawyer on the back when he gets a run. You think his smile is quite nice and you wish you could see it more often. You want to slap yourself for those thoughts. You knew they would only cause you more trouble.

By the eighth inning, you and Ted are fully invested in the game. The score is currently tied with both teams having two runs each. Right now there are two outs and two strikes. There is also a player on third and one of first. As soon as the pitch is thrown, Joshua hits it towards the outfield. He runs towards first at the same time the right fielder throws the ball in. The ump calls it an out. Schlatt comes out of the dug out obviously fuming by the bad call.

“What the fuck was that? He was safe!” Schlatt yells at the umpire.

“Cool it coach or else you’re out of here. First got to him before he ran past,” the ump tells him.

Schlatt groans, storming back. You can’t hear what he is telling his players, but you know he’s pissed.

You and Ted give each other a look, not sure what to do or how to react. You both just watch the game.

The game ends soon after with the opposing team winning by one run. Even though you are ready to go home, Ted tells you that he told Schlatt he would wait on him. You really don’t feel like waiting on Schlatt especially since he is probably not in a good mood.

“Are you hungry? Schlatt mentioned a pizza place we could try,” Ted suggests.

“I could eat,” you tell him. “Do you know how long he will be?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s not like we have anything better to do than wait.”

You notice a few players leaving and they all look fed up. After about 30 minutes, Schlatt walks out of the locker room, fully changed. “You guys didn’t have to wait on me. You should have just gone home,” Schlatt tells you both.

“It’s no worries. I am treating you to pizza. You deserve it after tonight,” Ted tells him.

Schlatt gives him a small smile. “Thank you. I’m sorry this is the game you came to. We usually play better than that.”

“The boys did great. Just a few bad calls. I’m glad we came out,” you tell him. Even though the game didn’t go as well as Schlatt would have liked, you are glad you were able to watch.

The three of you make your way to the pizza place to enjoy a meal. The conversation is going quite well. “How long have you two been together?” Schlatt asks.

You choke on your drink while Ted starts laughing. “As much as I love (Y/N), we are just friends,” Ted explains.

Schlatt looks at you both, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a couple. A few students had said something about it,” Schlatt admits.

“And you trusted them?” You ask with a slight laugh. “Theatre guys aren’t really my type.”

Ted sticks his tongue at you. “Well Math nerds aren’t my type.”

“Math nerds aren’t too bad. Especially when they dress up for every occasion,” Schlatt says, looking directly at you.

You feel yourself start to blush. Is he flirting with you? Why was he not being an ass? Was he waiting until he knew you were single? It all seemed strange, but you weren’t going to complain.

The rest of the night goes quite well. The three of you talk and laugh like you have been friends for years. You feel like things between you and Schlatt are starting to look up. You hope that it continues that way because as much as you hate to admit it, you enjoy Schlatt’s company as well as his stupidly good looking face.

A/N: things are finally happening (sort of)! I’m not sure how I feel about this story… maybe I can make it better and more exciting but I’m not sure. Anyways let me know what you think. I’ll be answering some of my reqs soon as well.

i cannot explain how much i love this picture

I saw Thunderbolts and now I'm having Bob brain worms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

NSFW below

Imagine being the bossy 'mean' gf of him. Guard dog girlfriend vibes (not that he even needs it lmao, at least physically). He's awkward and apologizes too much and doesn't stand up for himself as much as he should. Then there's you. Assertive, bossy, "he asked for no pickles" type of girlfriend. When you're around, he gives off submissive ass vibes. "Yes dear" "no dear" "whatever you want, honey"

Yelena and Walker make jokes that he's like your little puppy.

No one would suspect how he rips off your panties, bends you over your desk, and fucks the meanness out of you. And fuck, he's so strong that you can't even try to get away from how good he's making you feel. He's hitting your sweet spot without even trying, all while telling you how much of a little bitch you are, being so bossy to him.

"Not so tough now. Look how sweet you are once you get some attention, hm?"

He gets into this headspace that melts away his anxiety, fully knowing you're into him being like this.

"Such a sweet girl, happy to let me use you, aren't you, honey?"

You nod embarrassingly fast and let out a moan when he leans over you, his lips seeking out your neck.

"Just need someone to put you in your place. It's okay, honey. You boss me around out there, and I'll fuck you like a toy in here, deal?"

(He doesn't pull out btw)

Livid | mean!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Annoying Spencer, just to see him get mad, was one of your favourite ways to pass time at the BAU. Emily had warned you not too push him too far. You hadn't realised how right she was until Spencer decides he's had enough and takes you down to the basement.

Contents: DUB-CON, NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, mean!Spencer, no aftercare,, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie (is it even a mydearzero original if there's no coming inside?), spanking, dacryphilia, impact play, choking, spit, degradation, humiliation, semi-public sex, punishment, name calling, sir kink, filming and taking pictures without permission, orgasm denial, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

5K words

this one's a doozy folks. buckle up. it's pure porn - nik

You weren't doing it on purpose at first. It just so happened that you occasionally did things that got under Spencer's skin. You gradually realized which actions ticked him off and started doing them more and more. You just enjoyed seeing him annoyed, huffing and puffing, yet never saying anything. His patience seemed neverending.

Emily had warned you not to push him too far. According to her, when Spencer snapped, he exploded. 

Yeah, right. 

Her discouragement only egged you on. You'd hardly ever seen the genius even get mad. Spencer got irritated at best. He was an angel, really. 

So you continued pushing, taking every possible chance to get on his last nerve. It had turned from enjoying seeing him annoyed to wanting to see him furious. You'd seen Spencer snarl at a snobby police officer once. Hell, you'd even seen him snap at an UnSub. But you'd never seen him absolutely livid. 

It took you a while to figure out why you wanted to see him get mad. 

You thought back to that case, the one that had him yelling at the UnSub. You couldn't even remember the details of the case. All you could think about was Spencer's hands gripping the table as he leaned across it, getting close and personal with the UnSub. 

You cared about the veins straining against the surface of his skin, the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. The only lasting memory you had of the case was the tone of his voice and what it did to your body. 

A part of you wanted to be on the other side of that table, and it scared you how that part was growing exponentially, especially after Emily's warning. 

You didn't want to admit it, not even to yourself. But the sole reason you continued messing with Spencer was the age-old 'teasing your crush to get their attention' stint, and you hadn't even realized it. 

You shouldn't have been having all these deep thoughts and desires while sitting at your desk on a random Tuesday afternoon. Yet here you were. 

You tried to read the lines on the page in front of you repeatedly but to no avail. Your face sunk into your hands as you groaned inwardly. You had to stop this juvenile behaviour at this second. He was going to catch on. You were certain somebody already must've done the math. 

It shouldn't have surprised you when Spencer did finally burst. It wasn't like you did anything out of the usual. He wasn't even being tormented by a gruelling case. He'd just had enough. 

"God! You think you're so cute, don't you?" Spencer exclaimed, slamming the mouse you'd taped over on the table. The silence from before and after his outburst differed immensely. It was calm and serene before it turned tense and awkward. 

You slowly turned to look at his desk, not meeting his eye. If you had, you would've seen the way his pupils dilated at your meek behaviour. The way he had to regain his composure. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed, feeling caught. You knew reading minds wasn't a thing, but profiling sure was one of the things closest to it in this world. Spencer couldn't have known what you were thinking only seconds prior to him finding your latest childish attempt to invoke his anger. But it felt like he knew. 

Spencer scoffed as you chewed on your bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so funny anymore. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" 

You gaped as you made eye contact with an overly amused Derek. He was enjoying this show to its fullest extent. "Don't look at me, kid. We warned you." He shrugged. 

You turned your eyes back to a still-aggravated Spencer. He pushed himself away from his desk and got out of his chair. He brushed his hands over his jacket, still sending daggers your way. 

Your gaze followed him hesitantly as he stalked over to your desk. You scrambled to arrange things as if your messy workspace would only annoy him more. 

"Get up." He demanded. You raised your eyebrows in question. Was he serious? 

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Emily teased in a sing-songy tone. Not helping, Prentiss. 

"You're messing with me, right? Because of all the stupid pranks?" You asked sceptically. Your voice was wavering and uncertain. 

"No, I'm being dead serious. Get up. Follow me." Spencer made an upwards motion with his fingers as he loomed over your seated figure. 

You slowly pushed your chair out and sent questioning glances to JJ, who only shrugged. Your legs were unsteady as you stood. Spencer was your coworker, your friend. So why was your heart beating in your throat as if you were about to be sent to the fifth circle of Dante's Inferno? 

Spencer didn't say another word as his long legs stalked out of the bullpen, uncaring that you were struggling to keep up. You nearly tripped over your feet several times before reaching the elevator. You stood beside a seething Spencer, who turned to push the 'B' button. 

The basement? What business did he, or you, for that matter, have in the basement? Nobody ever- Right. Nevermind.

Nobody ever set foot in the basement. 

You twiddled with your fingers in anticipation, hearing Spencer breathe in an unnatural pattern. The floors passed by quickly, and before you knew it, you were met with the sight of the metal doors sliding open into darkness. 

Spencer flicked the light switch. Harsh, industrial, white light filled the dusty room. It was smaller than you expected. The rows of file cabinets made it look smaller than it really was. A desk was situated in the middle, seemingly abandoned. 

You shuddered a breath as you stepped into the room, feeling exposed even when you knew nobody could see or hear you down here. Your shoes seemed outrageously interesting, your eyes never leaving them as you awaited Spencer with bated breath. 

"Look at me." His words filled the silence. The room had an eerie lack of echo, his voice sounding closer than it actually was. 

You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze. He appeared taller like this, especially when you were already feeling small, hunching in on yourself. 

"I'm going to give you one chance to apologize for your downright appaling behaviour." Spencer crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. You felt as if you were being scolded by a teacher for throwing a crayon at another student. 

"Why the condescending tone, Reid? We're all coworkers here." You questioned defensively, mirroring his stance by crossing your arms. 

"That doesn't sound like an apology to me, but I'll bite. We are definitely coworkers. But you know as well as I that you changed that dynamic when you decided to start acting like a spoilt little girl begging for my attention." His composure didn't change as he spoke the incriminating words.

You didn't know what you expected coming down here with him, but this certainly wasn't it. You felt something simmer at his words, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You searched his face for any emotion, but only found a look that said "Well?" 

When he noticed you weren't going to answer, he laughed. It wasn't a hearty chuckle. There was an underlying tone of sarcasm and ridicule to it. 

"You've been at this for months, and now you're not even going to attempt to say sorry? I expected a shitty excuse, sure, but an apology nonetheless." Spencer scoffed. 

You knew he was holding back. You could see it in the way he turned his head and closed his eyes before facing you again. You damned your profiling skills for giving you a foresight of what he had in store for you. You'd seen nothing of his wrath yet. 

You knew he was getting frustrated at your silence, but you couldn't find the words. Nothing you could say could make this any better for you. You ran all the possible outcomes in your head, but every thought was more incriminating than the previous one. 

"Fine." He clapped his hands together, stepping away from the desk. He motioned towards it, signalling you to take timid steps towards the piece of furniture. You looked at him questioningly. 

His eyebrows raised. The words "You know what to do" went unspoken. 

You swallowed as your mouth went dry. You looked at the desk, before looking at Spencer again. He didn't have to say anything. He wanted you to do it yourself. You closed your eyes as you leaned your palms against the unkept wood. You slowly brought your elbows down, leaning on them uncertainly. If this wasn't his intention, you'd just embarrassed yourself into the next century. 

You heard him breathe deeply as he walked behind you. You jerked as his hand ran up your back until it reached between your shoulder blades. He pushed hard enough to press your chest flush with the desk, turning your head to lie it on the surface. His hand stayed there as the other was placed on your hip. 

Spencer let out a content sigh. "Better." 

He stepped away, leaving a cold feeling behind. You didn't dare move, already mortified at your predicament. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible as if any noise you made could set him off. You tried to hear what he was doing, unable to see him clearly in your peripheral. 

Your head raised off the desk at lightning speed when you heard the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter. 

"Did I say you could move?" Spencer asked. You shook your head, quickly placing it back on the desk. For a second, you wondered why you were even listening to him. He had no authority over you. But it felt exhilarating to give it to him. 

"You speak when I ask you a question. No shaking your head, understood?" His voice came from in front of the desk. How hadn't you noticed him walking around it? 

"Yes, sir," You squeaked, doing as he asked. Sir? Really? 

"Good girl." 

The words flipped a switch inside you. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, seemingly having to wait an eternity for him to take the next step. You heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling. You found yourself crossing your legs at the implication. Surely he wasn't going to whip you? 

You thought you were going to get scolded for the action, but Spencer ignored it. He reached for your wrists, lying awkwardly beside your head. You didn't dare make eye contact. 

You were confused at his next action until you saw the hole near the back of the desk, meant for cables. He threaded the belt through it before bringing your wrists to it and tying them together. The positioning was awkward at best, but you were starting to feel like that's what he wanted, to embarrass you. 

You gave the makeshift handcuffs an experimental tug. They didn't budge, of course. Panic simmered in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling settling at the thought that you were stuck. There was nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to run from Spencer's revenge. 

He ran a hand through your hair, softly shushing you like you were a child. His hand slowly slid down your back. Your breath stuttered at his deliberate pace. He was taking his sweet time. 

"Shhh... You're fine." He whispered, putting a foot between yours and kicking them open. You grunted at the action just as he was hooking his fingers into your bottoms and taking your underwear clean off with them. He lifted one of your feet, only bothering to untangle one foot and leaving your clothes pooled at your other ankle. 

His fingers trailed up the inside of your leg. The tips of his fingers finally found the spot where you needed them most, but Spencer didn't do much besides feel you up. 

"You're so fucking wet it's pathetic." He mumbled as he wiped his fingers on your thigh. 

"You can pretend that you're tough and grown up all you want, but this is what you are. A pathetic little whore begging for my attention." Spencer walked around the desk and grabbed your chin harshly. The look in his eyes could only be described as animalistic. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. 

You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. But he did no such thing. 

"Open your mouth." He demanded, squishing your cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. You obeyed, but it wasn't good enough for him.

"You can do better than that, c'mon." He urged, putting his thumb in your mouth and pushing your head back. He removed his hand and observed you lying there with your mouth open. He seemed pleased at the sight, humming in approval. 

His hand made its way back to your chin, turning your face upwards, craning your neck uncomfortably. You hadn't registered what he'd done until you felt a warm glob hit your tongue. Had he just spit in your mouth? You looked at him aghast. 

"Wipe that shocked look off your face and swallow it if you know what's good for you." He patted your cheek mockingly. You closed your mouth and swallowed his spit, not trying to think too much about the fact that known germaphobe Spencer Reid had just spit. in. your. fucking. mouth. 

"That's what I thought." He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You thought he was going to take it off, maybe leaving it on your arms, seeing as they were currently tied to the desk, but he did no such thing. He brought the hem over your eyes, effectively blindfolding you with your shirt. 

You couldn't imagine what you must've looked like. Legs spread, bottoms haphazardly pulled down, shirt over your eyes, hands tied, pussy dripping. Your heart sank as you heard Spencer take another picture. 

"You look so good like this, exactly how you're supposed to be," Spencer spoke with a misconstrued sense of pride. 

You flinched and yelped when he abruptly struck your behind with a flat hand. You'd expected this was coming, that he was going to punish you, but you hadn't heard him approach. He rubbed his hand over the sore spot he'd just hit. 

"You're going to count them for me, and you're going to apologize after every single one. You better mean it because if I feel you're being insincere, you're only gonna get more until I believe you." Spencer set the rules, resting his left hand on your hip. You waited for him to begin, but another strike didn't come. 

"This is the time where you say 'Yes, sir' like you did earlier. I must admit, I didn't expect that one. But I like it, so we're keeping it," he mocked. 

"-Yes, sir," you stammered. Another hum of approval met your ears as he repositioned himself for the optimal angle. 

He didn't hold back as the second slap hit your butt. It stung more than you'd expected, a burning sensation spreading fast. 

"Two. I'm sorry, Spencer." You apologized, putting as much sincerity behind the words as you could muster. 

"No, that was one. The first one was just a warning. And you don't deserve to call me Spencer right now. You'll need to earn that privilege back. You'll learn to respect me soon enough. Now, start over." 

His hand came back down once more.

"One! I'm sorry, sir," you hissed at the pain. 

"What are you sorry for, princess?" Spencer asked as he delivered another smack. 

"Two! I'm sorry for disrespecting you!" You no longer had the energy to keep your head up, giving up the attempt to look at him and resting it back on the desk. 

"And?" He questioned. Another strike. 

"Three! I'm sorry for embarrassing you and pulling stupid pranks." You admitted.

"I don't buy it," Spencer contemplated. 

"Please, sir! I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for being so childish." You apologized. A strike harder than the previous ones landed on your behind. 

"You don't speak out of turn, do you understand?" Spencer gripped your hair and pulled your head up to spit the words straight into your ear. You nodded wildly, as much as his grip on your hair through the shirt would allow. 

"Yes, yes, I understand." You said. Spencer let go of your hair. You only had milliseconds to respond, preventing your head from hitting the wood. He returned to his previous position, not wasting any time before landing several strikes to your ass.

This continued for a while, him smacking, you counting and begging for his forgiveness. Your legs were shaking by the time he reached the twentieth hit. 

"Twenty... I really am sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pushed you." You sighed, feeling Spencer rub circles over the impacted flesh. 

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. 

"Yes, I won't do it again. I'm sorry." You didn't remember how many times the words 'I'm' and 'sorry' had rolled off your tongue that afternoon, but it must've been dozens. 

"Good. Now, for good measure, one last time." There was an underlying tone to the threat you couldn't place. You didn't have to wonder long, the last strike landing directly on your pussy. 

"Shit! Oh my god," you cursed, attempting to shut your legs. Spencer's feet kept them from moving. He'd anticipated the reaction. You were glad for the echoless chamber, the humiliatingly wet sound only reverberating slightly. 

"Now I can really be sure you'll remember." You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much. But then again, hadn't you been the exact same? Gaining joy from inconveniencing him? You sighed at the realization you couldn't judge him for getting off on this. The last smack certainly hadn't been a dry one. 

"Now..." Spencer trailed off. He removed the shirt from your eyes, pushing it further over your head. He pushed the fabric into your mouth as a makeshift gag. 

"Don't you make any noise, okay? I mean, not like anybody will hear you down here." He chuckled. You turned your head and your eyes widened as you saw him walk towards the elevator. He pushed the call button and turned back to catch one last glimpse at you. He snapped a quick picture of your reddened ass cheeks before stepping into the elevator. 

You yelled his name through the gag, nothing but gurgling, obstructed pleas meeting his ears. He wasn't leaving, right? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He was just testing you. 

You were left with the sound of your own pants and racing heart. You tugged at your binds once more. What if he left? Went home? Surely it was past the regular office hours by now. 

Tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of being left here like this overnight. What if nobody came down here? What if somebody did come down here and saw you like this? You were conflicted. 

After 10 minutes of silent contemplation and several escape attempts, the metallic creaking of the elevator coming down sounded through the basement. You clenched your eyes shut, begging the universe it was Spencer and nobody else. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the familiar sound of Spencer's shoes hitting the linoleum floor. You watched as he sipped his newly acquired coffee, not acknowledging you, only looking at his phone. After presumably sending a couple of texts, he shut it off and put it away on top of one of the cabinets nearby.

He smiled at the sight of the fresh tears rolling down your face. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Dacryphilia?" He asked as he crouched down to your level and wiped a few stray tears from your chin. He removed the gag from your mouth. 

You shook your head before correcting yourself. "No, sir." 

"It's a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing," Spencer explained. Leave it up to Spencer to dive into an explanation at a moment like this. 

"I never thought I was someone who could be turned on by that. But seeing you like this, I can definitely see the appeal." His words were quiet, but so was the room. 

"You look so pretty when you cry for me." He praised, running a hand through your hair. It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment, given the circumstances. He got up from his crouched position before you. You looked up at him. The domineering gaze he gave back told you all you needed to know.  

"Thank you, sir," you whispered, hoping it was the correct response. 

"See? It's not that hard to be respectful. But I'm not done with you yet."  

Your breathing picked up as you remembered your predicament. Spencer didn't waste any time, pushing his pants down. His cock was long and thick. 

You thought he was going to make you suck it. He pushed it in your mouth harshly, not giving you any room to breathe. He held you there, choking on his cock by the back of your head for a few more seconds before pulling it out and slapping it on your cheek. He smiled wickedly before tucking it back in his pants. It had only been a taste, literally. 

He saw your confused look, but ignored it, opting to walk back around the desk. He wasted no time, pushing two fingers inside your mortifyingly wet hole. He curled them exactly right, and you clenched your fist and eyes to stop your legs from giving out. 

Just as you'd started moving your hips along with his hand, he pulled away. "Stay still. Or you don't get anything." 

You willed your entire body to remain frozen as he resumed his activities. He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing at the exact speed and pressure to make your knees buckle. You had to put all your weight on your upper body to stop moving. 

"God, will you shut up?" Spencer groaned. You hadn't even noticed you were making any noise, the moans and whines falling from your lips sounding foreign. 

You bit your lip to keep them from escaping, but it was hard when Spencer was unrelenting. You felt yourself coming close, soft, high-pitched whines escaping your throat no matter how hard you tried to contain them.  

Your toes curled, and your muscles tightened, but Spencer pulled away. More tears welled up in your eyes at the immensely unsatisfying sensation. You wanted to beg him to please continue and let you finish. But he'd told you to shut up, and you really weren't looking to prolong your punishment. 

You heard your own pathetic sobs, drowning out the sound of him undoing his pants again. Your chest heaved as you tried to stay silent. Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the tears. 

It was bizarre how quiet he stayed. He was usually so talkative. But the implication that you didn't deserve him speaking to you unless it was an order was clear. 

"This is all you're good for. A hole for me to fuck. And don't you dare forget it." Spencer lined himself up and didn't offer any more preparation before sliding inside. 

"You're just a deplorable, woeful, pitifully sad little girl." Spencer spat as his grip on your hair returned. His other hand snuck around your neck, gripping tightly. He used the grip on your hair and neck as leverage to set a brutal pace, calling you every synonym for pathetic available. 

"You think you're so important? Good enough to be pulling shit like this? You need to learn your. fucking. place." Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust. "You're expendable at best." 

You didn't dare speak, the only thing leaving you was quiet sobs, whines and moans. Your breathing was strained against the hold he had on your neck. 

You were embarrassed to feel the knot in your stomach tightening worryingly fast. Spencer was treating you like a whore, and you were getting off on it, faster than anything else ever had before. 

Spencer felt you tighten around him and quickly pulled out and stepped away. You felt the cold breeze on your empty hole. More tears spilt as you heard the sound of a video recording starting. 

Spencer zoomed in on your desperate, fluttering pussy, before pushing back inside, keeping the camera focused on his cock entering in and out. 

You tried to hide your face when he turned the camera to it, but his hand yanked on your hair, making you face the camera. 

"Say: 'I'm Spencer's little slut. His own personal hole to use whenever he pleases because I'm a cockwhore hungry for attention.'" Spencer demanded. 

"Please, sir. Don't make me say it on camera," you begged. You'd say it, just to get it over with, but the current footage he had was already incriminating enough. 

"No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. Say it." The pace of his hips never let up, your figure moving crudely in and out of the shot. 

"I-I'm Spencer's... Please," you began. Spencer's speed inside you increased, interrupting your train of thought. He delivered a harsh smack against your still sore ass, urging you to continue. 

"I'm Spencer's... little slut. His own personal... hole... to use whenever he pleases." You inhaled sharply before continuing. "Because I'm a... cockwhore... hungry for attention." You stuttered over the words, forcing them out. 

Spencer seemed satisfied, putting his phone away. His hand returned to your throat, cutting off the airflow as he fucked you harshly. Every thrust of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body. 

The wood was digging into your hips, sure to be beaten and bruised by tonight. Your weight was no longer being held up by your legs, Spencer's presence behind you being the only thing that kept you from collapsing. 

You were tight with desperation, every muscle wanting that sweet release he was depriving you of. 

Spencer grunted unintelligible curses against you as he pistoned inside. His thick cock felt like it was splitting you open with every thrust, no matter how wet you'd gotten. 

"Gonna cum inside you, and there's nothing you can do about it," Spencer mumbled as he sped up. How it was even possible, was beyond you. 

"Please, sir. Please let me cum." You whined. If he denied you one more time, you weren't sure if you could take it. 

"What makes you think you fucking deserve to cum? You're an annoying, good-for-nothing brat who's getting what was coming for her." He moaned against the shell of your ear. The sound ignited something new inside you. You needed to hear it again. 

"Please, Spencer. Please," you begged, more tears threatening to spill after you'd assumed you were all out. 

"What, you're gonna fucking cry? Like a fucking baby? Don't fucking do things if you're gonna fucking cry over the consequences, you fucking slut. And it's sir to you, you whore." You'd never heard Spencer this vulgar. And you could've never imagined what it would do to you. 

"You know what they call this, crybaby?" Spencer asked, tightening the grip on your throat, cutting off most if not all of the airflow. You shook your head aggressively. 

"Karma." He spoke, thrusting harshly to get the message across. The combination of the lack of air and his ruthless thrusts was brutal. You could feel yourself trembling, trying to keep yourself together. 

Spencer pushed his cock sharply one last time, twitching and releasing his spend inside you with a loud groan. He released your throat and pulled out. You fell forward, chest heaving with dry sobs. He hadn't let you come. You cried frustrated tears as Spencer took more photos, as expected. 

You felt the warm come drip from your pussy as Spencer took close-ups. A tense silence overtook the room as he made himself decent before paying you any attention. 

"Garcia still owed me a favour, so she disabled the elevator from coming down here unless you enter a code," Spencer explained as he untied you. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, even if the ordeal was already over. The fact that there had been no real threat settled the uneasy feeling, even if only a little. It was the only consolation he offered. Spencer redid his belt as if it hadn't just been used as handcuffs while he fucked you like you were his property to discard. 

You rubbed your wrists, seeing the red wells carved in them from your relentless tugging. How were you going to explain this when you came in tomorrow? 

Spencer didn't seem to care, simply grabbing his stuff and waiting for the elevator. You looked around for your underwear, only to see a small piece of fabric sticking out of his pocket. You sighed and put your bottoms back on without the underwear, cringing at the wet, sticky fluid still between your legs. Your top was still wet with saliva and tears. 

You got in the elevator with him without saying a word. You'd expected to at least talk to him about it, but as soon as you reached ground level, Spencer was gone. 

Your eyes welled up and cheeks heated when you realized you were going to have to walk through the lobby and go home alone, all without any underwear and while still dripping his cum. 

Spencer had gotten what he wanted. You were mortified. And you sure as hell weren't going to pull any more pranks anytime soon. 

Not while at the office, anyways. 

somebody encourage me to write something

like please give me anything. i wanna write so bad but i'm stoopid and cant think of anything to write 😭

someone force me to write.

i don't have money but i can reblog, hope everything turns out ok <3

gonna kinda lowkey leave a link to my ko-fi here bc i have a lot of fees coming up for moving into my apartment, i still dont have everything i need for it, my laptop is broken, and i need to get my car fixed, and sign up for new insurance (which will cost money unfortunately). once all of this is taken care of, i wont have much to fall back on in case of emergency. absolutely not necessary to leave anything, please dont feel obligated to, just figured i'd drop it here even tho im lowkey embarrassed to lmao

million dollar man | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

AN: my flo app says that today is the peak of my ovulation so umm..! explains why im writing this. anyways, here's a lil drabble about cryin’ out logan's name, beggin’ for your old man to fill you up <3 (i’ll prolly make more self indulgent fics like this in the future lol)

content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), rough sex, dacryphilia, daddy kink, porn without plot, slapping, mean!logan, dirty talk, pet names.

"so fuckin' tight for me," logan groans as his hands keep you in place, ass up, bent over, and folded in half over the dinner table. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the kitchen as he rams into you relentlessly.

he was fucking you senseless—balls deep into your cunt, a steady rhythm of greedily sucking him in, and your gummy walls reluctantly slipping him out. you threw your hips back in tandem with his thrusts, making the plush of your ass bounce against him.

"such a needy girl for your old man, huh?" he teases, rubbing your ass with the palm of his calloused hand. his touch lingered for a second, before you hear a loud slap echo throughout the room.

you wince out as the stinging pain starts to fester. "fuck!" you whine as he spanks you again, subconsciously gripping his dick tighter as his hand makes contact with your ass.

"dirty fuckin' whore," logan hisses, planting yet another slap against your ass. "need your daddy to fuck you rough tonight, huh?". you barely manage to choke out a yes as your body quivers beneath him.

he spots the way your fingernails dug into the wood of the kitchen table as he continues the assault on your ass and pauses his thrusts. letting out a small chuckle, he tugs at your wrists, making it so that your hands are behind your back.

"you said you're a big girl, right darlin'?" he taunts, unsheathing himself from your cunt, a white ring of your slick left around his girth. you whine at the loss of his cock, your cunt now twitching around nothing.

"now take my dick like one."

I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure for more bob content. How do you think Bob would be with intimacy both NSFW and non-NSFW?

☆.°*Physical Intimacy w/ Bob HCs*°.☆

a/n: oooo idk if you meant intimacy in general but since you mentioned NSFW, im going to focus on physical intimacy!! no smut though. also forgive the first bit just explaining my thought process word count: 1.0k warnings: sexual content but not smut, regardless 18+ Minors DNI!, also mentions of drugs and insecurities. just anything that would've been in thunderbolts.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・inbox・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Knowing Bob's background, I believe that he would deeply crave intimacy, but be very hesitant to initiate it himself.

He had a rough childhood that probably didn't consist of a lot of affection from his mother and if you read the file that Valentina had on Bob, it says that his drug addiction started in middle school and that he dropped out in eighth grade because of it. After that, he had a juvenile record a mile long from breaking & entering, robbery etc.

With this information, I'm going to guess that he hasn't had many (if any) relationships and if he did, they probably weren't very healthy. Overall, he has a negative history with trust and intimacy.

BUT despite all of this, being with the team has had a positive impact on him- showing him that he isn't alone, what it's like to be sober and that vulnerability can be a good thing. For once, he can let down his walls and be his true self.

Unfortunately, physical intimacy is a whole other battle with the void lurking between the surface.

Before you had even begun dating, you had made the mistake or brushing his hand. Once simply gesture- a subconscious one really- threw you into one of your worst memories with Bob as a viewer. When you both came back to reality you didn't pull away, or flinch. He did.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Bob said tearing his hand from yours. "I can't control it. I- I didn't mean-"

And even though you just relived your own past, you reached for him.

"Bob, I know." You said, squeezing his hand. "It's not your fault."

You didn't leave, didn't scream at him. Just held him. And from that day on its like the barrier was lifted.

He would never make the first moves touching you before you were dating- that's where you come in.

It would start slow: hugging him after a mission, playfully shoving him as you joked around. Before you knew it, you were laying your heads on each other's shoulders when you sat side by side.

Your first kiss was slow. Your hands cupping his cheeks, guided his face to yours and for a moment, as your noses brushed, you could feel his breath against your lips. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek as you hummed, then his lips were on yours.

It wasn't hungry- no. There was none of that carnal desire or devouring. Instead it was thirsty, desperate. He reached for your lips as if they held the last drop of water in a barren desert and held you close like you'd evaporate if he didn't. Your lips dragged painfully slow against his until he reached to meet you.

Cheek and forehead kisses are a hallmark of your relationship.

As much as he absolutely adores kissing your lips and making out with you, those kisses are simply so pure that they held such a sacred place in his heart. No one gave him those before you.

Before you left to go anywhere, you'd find him in his little reading nook, brush his hair from his face and kiss his cheek from behind.

Even after months of dating he'd still blush after you did that and touch his skin to make sure it was real.

"I love you." You said.

And sometimes he'd catch your hand before you turned to go, pulling you in for a kiss on the lips.

"I love you too." And he always said it with a smile.

Bob doesn't hold hands in the traditional way out in public, but he does lace his fingers with yours. Your palms aren't touching but your digits remain interlocked, leaving him room to run his thumb along your hand.

He's not big on PDA. It makes him self conscious, not because he's not proud of you because he is, but because it feels as if he's putting his heart on display. Although Bob knows those from his past aren't around anymore to hurt him, it's a lasting scar that isn't healed so easily.

For my self-conscious girls, I mean this so genuinely, I don't think Bob has a physical type whatsoever. If you were a curvier women and felt insecure about in comparison to him and his physique he wouldn't even be able to comprehend it because to him you hung the stars in the sky. You're ethereal and anyone who tried to take that from you because of something as silly as your weight, or hair or nose is ridiculous. You're a goddess in his eyes.

Like, being insecure is reserved for him and him only. If you started speaking poorly about yourself he wouldn't even be able to stand listening to it and would probably cup your face in his hands and kiss you to make you stop

Is a big-time cuddler. Bob's favorite way to fall asleep is tucked in your arms. Although, that wouldn't last for long because he runs hot and once he was unconscious he'd toss and turn, kicking all the sheets to the end of the bed. He'd only cuddle you once more when he woke in the morning.

NSFW

Now, as I mentioned earlier I don't think he has a lengthy relationship history, however, I do believe that he's had sex before.

Most of the other times Bob had sex he was high and doesn't really remember much, which only makes this moment with you even more significant- and a bit anxiety inducing. With a high, he wasn't as worried about how he did or how he felt. Now, he was hyperaware of all of his inadequacies.

I think he's submissive or vanilla. The only time he's dominant during sex is if he's bolstered by the sentry persona and as we know, that may lead to the void so it is a VERY rare occurrence.

And when I say vanilla, that doesn't mean boring or satisfactory. Bob feels everything so strongly that his love for you would almost be overwhelming for him. You were just intoxicating. His kisses are so deep and soft it makes his head spin.

Loves being called a good boy.

I just imagine sex with him either being the definition of lovemaking: slow, passionate, raw.

Or, so giggly.

He's also a munch. What?? Who said that?? He may be sober but he gets drunk on the taste of you all the same.

He adores looking at you. To him, it's almost the only way. He has needs, sure, but what makes it so special and otherworldly is the love he has for you.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・inbox・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

this is by no means a comprehensive list and I would love to revisit these ideas more. if you have more headcanons you'd like to see my inbox is open