I Swear Having An Endo Flare Up And Fibro Flare Up At The Same Time Is A Bitch. I Wanna Die From The
I swear having an endo flare up and fibro flare up at the same time is a bitch. I wanna die from the pain.
More Posts from Thatonepupkai and Others
If y’all don’t mind sharing your experiences with the nuvaring, please do🥺🥺🥺
… I have rage towards my doc.
I have a nuvaring in rn. I swear this bitch better work or Imma rip out my uterus then Im mailing it to my doctor.
I, also, can kinda feel it in there. It’s an odd ass feeling.
Just a small reminder
Do not stop talking about Palestine
Do not stop boycotting, do not stop protesting, do not stop speaking out. Be the voice for those who had their autonomy stripped away. Be the voice for the people, the parents, the grandparents, the children, the infants. Be the voice for the animals, the trees, the buildings, the very soil that has been desecrated. Stand up for what is right in whatever little way is possible, but do not stop talking about Palestine.
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE
DO NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE
Hello there! 🌸💫 I hope this message finds you in good spirits 💕
I’m reaching out with a humble request to help my family in Gaza. Could you please reblog my pinned post or contribute $10 to help us meet our basic needs and provide essentials for the children in my family? 🙏🏼
Your support, whether through sharing our story or donating, brings hope and relief to us during these challenging times. Together, we can make a difference. 🌼
Thank you for taking the time to read this. Your kindness means the world to us. 🌷✨💖
Okay!!
When I was a server at a cafe, I would confirm deliveries for my boss (she was always the best). So one day when I was running tables, we had a call and so, I picked up the phone and confirmed all the orders along with info on the cafe. When I went to hang up, I told the guy- “Alright, Bye honey, love you.”
I hung up and screamed in the back with my face in my hands. He ended up coming in while I was there and he told me that he loved me too- even though he had a wife. I never wanted a black hole to swallow me as much as I did then.
ghost on comms with price
when you express to price how you think you need to lose weight because you have been eating more of the homemade food he cooks and have been gaining a few pounds.
he firstly looks offended, as though you told him that he needs to lose weight. “why would ya say that, sweet’art?” his large hands gently run over the soft flesh of your hips as he kisses your lips gently.
“you don’t think i need to lose weight?” you shyly bring your lower lip between your teeth, casting your gaze downwards. price uses his calloused hand to gently make your gaze meet his. his thumb gingerly pulls your lip out from your nervous nibbling.
“you’re beautiful no matter what,” he starts, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. “but you don’t need to lose any weight..love the way you look—makes you cute like a kitty.”
you giggle, your face warming as his hands roam your body and squeeze your curves. <33
“my kitty.” he whispers against your lips before licking into your mouth.
suddenly, you don’t feel the need to lose anything, because price loves you the way you are <333
Love Bites (S.R.)
Summary: Spencer struggles to control himself when Reader wears a turtleneck.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Second person POV, established relationship, hickeys, neck biting, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering Word Count: 3.1k
MASTERLIST
It wasn’t until mid-October that the air began to reflect the season. The warmth, while appreciated, had outstayed its welcome. But then, one morning you woke to an open window. The wind whistled through with nipping breath that came as a shock and settled deep in your lungs.
It was finally the time you’d been waiting all summer for.
With a newfound pep in your step, you slipped into a simple turtleneck—perfectly flattering and taut over each curve. Its collar brought a warmth with it that felt like a familiar lover’s embrace. It was a simple, mindless decision to wear it. A creature comfort. You thought nothing of how it might pique curiosity or wandering eyes.
That was, until you stepped into the bullpen and were greeted with the devilish grin of Derek Morgan.
“It’s a bit early in the season for a turtleneck, isn’t it?” he asked with an accusatory tone.
“What do you mean?” you shot back innocently.
You should’ve known better than to ask.
“Are you hiding something?”
The implication brought blood rushing to your face. Your mind flashed back to memories of the last, distant time that your neck had needed covering. The last time that your lover had had his fill of you.
You shook the thought away just as quickly. You weren’t prepared to give Derek the satisfaction of your embarrassment. You scoffed, instead.
“Ha-ha, very funny.”
Your efforts backfired almost immediately as the man stood from his seat and stepped closer.
“That’s not a no,” he crooned from just behind you.
That time, you answered by peeking over your shoulder to lock eyes with your curious friend. You flashed a smile and a quizzical brow before you returned his teasing with some of your own.
“I think you’re just trying to see some skin.”
The fire in his eyes sparked from the challenge. With a confident twirl of his finger, Derek continued, “I think you’re hiding something.”
But, luckily for you, he had been wrong.
(This time, anyway.)
All it took was a simple tug of your finger beneath the collar. A little pull of snug fabric to reveal the unmarred skin beneath it.
“Here,” you said with a chuckle. “Happy yet, perv?”
Derek glanced down, just long enough to inspect the skin and see nothing strange. Then he shook his head and accepted defeat with an even brighter smile.
“Fine,” he sighed before quickly adding, “For now.”
The threat, uttered in jest, was overhead by another. A man who was by no means pleased by the not-at-all-cordial exchange between coworkers.
As you took your seat, Spencer’s disgruntled frown catches your eye from the neighboring cubicle. Before you could even ask what was wrong, he spoke. His voice was hushed and rushed with an undercurrent of frustration.
“You have to stop,” he muttered without even looking up.
The overly serious, cryptic manner of speaking was difficult to take seriously.
“What?” you asked through a chuckle.
“You have to stop…” he repeated before adding, “torturing me.”
At first you laughed. But after a moment, you realized just how much desire was laced through the words.
Spencer’s bottom lip quivered as it turned into the most pitiful little pout. His cheeks were twinged pink, and his jaw was tightly wound. Your gaze fell to bouncing legs that quickly shuffled closer together, as if trying to hide… something.
“… Are you serious?” you asked in a whisper.
Spencer’s eyes snapped shut before he brought his hands to cover his face in shame. It didn’t help. As soon as he was deprived of your inquisitive eyes, he was met with perfectly captured memories of the last time the two of you had alone.
Memories of how you looked, bare and writhing beneath him in his bed. Memories of his face buried in your neck, laying sloppy kisses over skin that reverberated with your sweet sounds of pleasure.
His hands left his face quickly, shifting to grab his sweater in an attempt to cover the inopportune evidence of his lust.
“Really?!” you said louder than you’d meant to, “You’re—?”
Pink cheeks turned to a deep shade of maroon as he struggled to reclaim control over his own body.
“Shut up,” he snapped.
“Really?” you asked again, anyway.
Spencer nodded in defeat. His struggle was obvious but enjoyed by at least one of you.
That’s why you decided to make it worse.
“That’s all it took?” you asked. Tucking your finger back beneath the fabric covering your neck, you once again revealed the hidden skin. Then, seemingly innocent, you drawled, “This?”
“Cut it out!” he squeaked.
His hand shot up from his lap, grabbing hold of your arm and tugging it down as far as he could. At first, the fabric came down, too. Just enough for him to see the hollow center between collarbones.
But then the collar snapped back into place, and he exhaled with relief.
Once he finally managed to make eye contact again, though, he found no mercy. Instead, he found an excited, sinful smile stretching over your cheeks.
“Awwwe. That’s so pathetic,” you cooed.
Like a puppy in the face of punishment, Spencer returned to the confines of his cubicle without another word. You caught his eye again as your tongue darted forward and caught between your teeth.
He peered at you from a safe distance and tried to ignore the way you were looking at him. It was impossible for him to ignore, though. Not when you rewarded him with a small giggle.
“You’re so damn cute,” you said.
Spencer tried to appear unaffected, but you saw how his lips began to turn up and his neck burned red.
“Can you keep it quiet, actually?” he said with feigned confidence. It faded almost immediately after he met your eyes. Then his voice trembled as he explained, “I’m trying to… do… work… stuff.”
The sight warmed your heart enough that you’d decided to allow him a brief reprieve. You were at work, after all. You could always toy with him later.
“Okay, I’ll stop torturing you,” you sighed once more.
And for the first time that morning, Spencer sputtered a laugh as he answered, “Thank you.”
True to your word, you’d returned to work. You spent the rest of the day trying not to think about turtlenecks and collars and other ways to torture your boyfriend. Your thoughts had stayed as innocent as possible.
But if you’d paid closer attention, you might’ve seen how the hunger in his eyes intensified throughout the day. You might’ve felt the unbridled lust burning through him grew each time you readjusted that simple circle of fabric.
By the time you’d arrived at home, the desire was so all-encompassing that it left him nearly senseless. Unbeknownst to you, he’d been waiting for the moment he heard the door click shut. The moment he could have you again.
“What did you want to do for dinner, by the way—,” you’d started. The words never made it.
The first thing you felt were his hands. Broad and strong and digging into your hips with enough power to elicit a gasp.
You both stumbled clumsily until your back hit the wall. Spencer kissed you with an equal gracelessness. His lips crashed against yours with enough excitement that your teeth bumped and dew gathered on your upper lip.
It was a moment of desperation, a longing to be closer to you as quickly as possible.
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh, wow, you weren’t joking earlier, were you?” you managed between return kisses.
Spencer finally relented, if only for a moment. Seemingly comforted by the sound of your laughter, his movements shifted to slower, more intentional worship. One hand lifted to cradle your cheek. Spencer let out a shaky exhale when he felt you return the gesture with some weight. A subtle showing of trust, of safety, of love.
He kissed you again because he couldn’t help himself. But this time, as he pulled away, he slurred a non-answer that told you everything you’d needed to know.
“You’re so pretty.”
You’d had the thought to tease him for his at-times-excessive flattery. But Spencer found another way to take your breath away.
That beautiful, brilliant boy dragged his hand from your jaw to your collar and quickly pulled it down. Just enough to make room for his eager, insatiable tongue.
A breathy moan came out instead of words. A wonderful, encouraging sound that only made him want more.
You, too, wanted more. Quick hands began uncoordinated efforts to disrobe one another while shuffling towards the bedroom. The awkward stumbling brought you back to a simpler time. A teenage-esque love, an exploration of intimacy that was repeatedly broken by giggles and gasps.
When you finally managed to pull his pants down his hips, you were met with a firmness pressed against you.
“Someone’s eager,” you purred against parted lips.
But Spencer’s voice had shifted to a softer, breathier register.
“I’ve been waiting all day,” he whined, “just to kiss you.”
It was a sweet sentiment that became even sweeter when he pressed his erection harder against you.
You grinned before your tongue sneaked between your teeth.
“I think you want to do more than that,” you said like a dare.
His hands and tongue had already made a mess of you, but you stood proudly on display for him. Beneath your collar, Spencer could spot minuscule red speckles already blooming across your neck.
“Yes, please,” he relented before his lips sought yours again.
You broke apart quicker this time, only to make room for you to remove his shirt. When you’d attempted to remove your own, however, his hands gripped your wrists with enough force to make you jump.
“Wait!” he cried. With wild yet hooded eyes, he begged, “Leave it on.”
You couldn’t say no when he’d looked at you like that. Like you were the most beautiful creature carved and perfected by the Gods, made to be worshipped by tongue and teeth.
You had both grown tired of the time spent those few inches apart. Quickly, you both stripped and stepped out of your underwear on your own. You’d even managed to shed the bra beneath your shirt in a swift movement that Spencer was convinced constituted magic.
You stumbled together once more, falling back into the bed and crawling over one another until you’d settled into the other’s arms.
Spencer was above you looking down on the disheveled beauty beneath him. He used one hand to carefully turn your face toward his rather than its more scandalous attempt to peer down between your bodies.
He didn’t tease you, though. Not with his words, anyway. He trailed his finger slowly and ever so softly down your features. Down your jaw and over the bunched-up collar. With more pressure, he dragged over the pebbled peak of your breast.
There was a tense silence as he concentrated on visualizing every inch of skin that lay beneath your shirt. His mouth hung open, his breath coming out shaky and hot with need.
Once he reached the hem of your shirt, his mouth was quick to return to your neck. His tongue tickled the sensitive skin enough to cause goosebumps to ripple over your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair to pull him closer. He obliged in more than one way.
You’d almost lost track of his hands until they were all you felt. Lithe fingers sneaked between your thighs and ran through already wet folds. He gathered the honeyed substance on one finger before sinking into you. There was little resistance, your body succumbing to his touch like it had done a hundred times before.
You sighed with relief as his finger began moving inside you with gentle strokes.
Spencer’s kisses moved up, teeth nipping at your ear before he chuckled.
“I can’t believe you called me pathetic,” he whispered in a lower register than you were used to.
You shivered and he felt it. Another finger pressed into you as his movements became more hurried. His own need twitched against your thigh when a soft whine escaped your lips.
“You know how much I love it when you’re pathetic,” you said with great struggle.
Any attempt to win back the power had been quickly lost as Spencer growled, “Clearly.”
Instead of giving in to a more primal desire, though, you just laughed, “Oh, be quiet.”
As you kissed him, you felt his smile.
“Fine,” he sighed. “There are better things to do with my mouth, anyway.”
He kept the first few kisses chaste—a strong contrast to the lewd sound of your moans as his fingers began making gentle circles around your clit. He kept that pattern with quick kisses all over your face until his hand finally withdrew.
He drew his nose along your jaw as a failed distraction. There was simply no way not to notice when he aligned himself between your legs.
Your stomach tensed as the sensations bordered on overwhelming. For a moment, all you could focus on was the feeling of his breath puffing hot against the fabric covering your neck. But then with one smooth movement, he’d entered you to the hilt.
Then, as if his mouth and manhood were fighting for your attention, he yanked your collar down and latched onto your neck with more fervor than you’d thought possible. The fabric strained and creaked, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.
At first, Spencer merely ground his hips harder against you, seeking some deeper refuge than you could offer. While his lips made quick work to mark your neck, your nails did the same to his back. You violent carved into the flesh with the utmost love. Spencer’s teeth did much the same.
When his hips finally withdrew, his thrusts were hurried and bruising. All of the silent tension of the day had led to this moment of catharsis. The animalistic blend of your bodies left you panting and keening for more.
“Spencer,” you choked on a pleasured sob, “don’t stop.”
He didn’t. Instead, he switched sides of your neck and began suckling at your pulse until you felt dizzy. Seeking to find that fast-approaching euphoria, you pressed his head against your neck until his teeth had to part to make room for more of you.
“Harder,” you gasped.
He took it literally, teeth sinking into soft skin with little hesitation. His hips moved more intentionally, too. Your back arched from the overstimulation and he took full advantage of the new angle.
With each thrust, you felt your body change. You could feel the subtle ache buried beneath mountains of pleasure. Spencer’s teeth released your neck just in time for you to throw your head back once more.
He left sloppy kisses on the wound he’d inflicted before quickly moving on to whatever unmarked skin he could find. Everything about him screamed desperation, an insistence for what he’d wanted most of all.
You. Every single inch of you.
And you, in return, sought to surrender it to him. He accepted it with greedy hands and tongue. But eventually, he felt how you trembled from the onslaught of pleasure. He, too, found himself reaching a height unknown. His lips got looser, his breath heavier and his hips stuttering as he licked the sweat beading on your neck.
“Mine,” he growled like some feral beast.
“Yours,” you answered much the same.
That simple concession was all it took for him to finally fall apart. With one final thrust, Spencer came to your deepest point and spilled his warmth. The kisses he’d tried to continue against your neck were broken with a low groan that reverberated through your bones.
Everything in that moment felt like him. Everything in that moment tasted like you.
Both of your bodies collapsed the moment it was over. Spencer nuzzled further against your neck, still seeking its innocent warmth despite the debauchery he’d covered it with.
Before you’d had a chance to think about it, he pulled your collar higher to near touch your chin. The movement emanated with guilt.
“Hey, so,” he chuckled softly.
You waited, suspicious, before answering.
“I think you should, um…” he mumbled. Then, bracing himself for the backlash, he quickly finished, “You should probably wear a turtleneck for the next couple of days.”
But instead of chastisement, you rewarded him with a laugh.
“Son of a bitch,” you said through gritted teeth.
You looked down at the man resting atop you. Of course, you felt the aching of freshly bloomed bruises all over of your neck. But you also felt the soft twitches of him still inside you. The warmth of his tired breath against your jaw and his fingers gently stroking your side. You saw and felt the quiet comfort of his company—animalistic desire and all.
“Worth it,” you decided.
You changed your mind a couple days later.
As you stood in the center of the bullpen, once again adorned with the highest collar you owned, Derek Morgan stared you down.
Like a child being chastised, you averted your eyes as quickly as you could.
Immediately, his usual, devilish grin had morphed into full-bodied laugh.
“Really? Again?!” he cried. “Now I know you’re hiding something!”
You scoffed, trying to hide your increasingly obvious anxiety.
“You’re a menace,” you said. You offered nothing more. In fact, you felt compelled to raise your shoulders and tilt your head, further shielding your neck from view.
“Oh? No peek show today, huh?” he practically giggled.
You said nothing. Your glare said everything.
“What you got under there?” he taunted. With another step closer, he crossed his arms to match you. He was close enough that your hair stood on edge and your muscles tensed.
“You don’t want anyone to see your little love bites?”
He wanted a reaction you nearly gave him. You fought every urge in your body urging you to run. Instead, you stood your ground and stared him directly in the eyes.
Then, deadpan, you said the most terrifying thing you could.
“… I’m reporting you to HR.”
You turned on your heel. Rushing off (with no intention of actually reporting him), you heard the panic beneath several layers of suave confidence.
“Awe, come on!” he laughed. “It doesn’t have to be like that!”
Derek chased after you. And that time, Spencer felt no need to follow. He left you in the lurch and stayed seated at his desk. It was the best way he knew to guard your secrets.
But if anyone had been paying attention, they would’ve seen how he smiled.
They might’ve even noticed how much it matched the bruises beneath your shirt.
Tell me what you thought about this fic here!
PLEASE I WOULD DIE FOR A SLIGHTLY SOUTHERN ACCENT READER BC THATS ME TOO 😭
Omg yes now I have to write this. I’ll just do like a bullet list bc it’ll be easier to read but I’m so glad there’s someone else like me anyway:
141 with a reader who has a slight country accent
Even if it’s slight, the boys can tell that you have a country accent
Sometimes you just say certain words that have a certain drawl or you pronounce them with the accent
All of them have different accents from each other even if they’re from around the same place but sometimes they’re not used to the way you say some things
“What?” Ghost would narrow his eyes and loom over you in frustrated confusion. “What the hell did you just say?”
You’d just roll your eyes and repeat it. If there was still further confusion you would explain what you were talking about and would most likely start some sort of argument about how’s it’s actually pronounced
You actually get into a lot of spats about stuff like that
They probably make fun of the way you speak sometimes. Not out of malice but just to joke around because you’re American and they’re not.
Price would jokingly say southern sayings in a really bad imitation of your accent when he’s teasing you
Don’t even ask Soap to try to do your accent it won’t end well
But they’re not the only ones who get to poke fun. You make it your duty to make fun of them and imitate their accents more than they do for you
It annoys the hell out of them sometimes but they just retaliate by making fun of yours. It’s a vicious cycle
Depending on your temperament, they’ve heard your accent get thicker when you’re angry.
The more angry you get, the thicker it is and while they might think it’s funny they know better than to laugh. They don’t want to be on the receiving end of southern rage
First time it happened though they were surprised and scared
“Steaming Jesus.” Soap muttered as he listened to you yell quick insults in a thick accent as you let out your anger. “And I thought I was the only one who could talk quick.”
Southern phrases (if you use them ironically or not) make them chuckle or confuse them
You’ll probably have to explain a lot of them
Don’t even get me started on the culture from where you’re from. Explaining to them what certain things are is difficult.
“What’s a Pawpaw?” Gaz asked one day which nearly made you joke on your drink.
They’d all be willing to listen if you told them but be prepared for a lot of questions.
Truthfully, they like your accent. It’s nice to listen to especially when you’re telling stories or just talking to them. You’re their southern operative and even if you’re not from over the pond you’re their teammate, their family.
They love you
Love for the southern readers! There probably a lot more about it I could talk about but I can’t think of any right now. I’ve heard from friends over seas that they like country accents so I incorporated that just because. Anyway hope you liked!
Yup...It's happened, shit is shady.
There is someone on twitter that thinks it’s okay to start a relationship with me calling him daddy. 😂😂
I had to let my baby go. My mind is just so mentally exhausted and drained. The way I just want to sleep for a few days straight. My heart can’t handle anything more. I just wanna be with her again.
To top off this shitty day, I’ve had a 3 day long migraine that is making me sick and nauseous.
-
blaires-box liked this · 1 year ago -
beyscape liked this · 1 year ago -
a-system-of-nerds liked this · 1 year ago -
bred-is-a-dumb-name liked this · 1 year ago -
cakesexuality liked this · 1 year ago -
thatonepupkai reblogged this · 1 year ago
