it’s like snow at the beach 𓇻 𓈒 ˖ 𖡼 ִֶָ𓂅 ָ࣪ weird but fucking beautiful
𝓓alla or 𝓓. 9teen. brazilian. nepobaby. autistic, adhd, and a pathological people pleaser. steve harrington’s wife (real!!). raised by taylor swift.
i like music, pretty things, good books and questioning everything !! i reblog a lot of nsfw / smut content so if you’re a minor beware!! i also write, but don’t plan on writing anything right now, but who knows.
scrolling horny tumblr when im not horny is like powerwalking around at an orgy, stepping over the writhing naked bodies, searching for any shiny objects that may be scattered round the area and may potentially be used to trade for higher level gear or potions of some kind
i really want ttpd to be more of a rock/pop-rock album with a better than revenge/haunted vibe, but i just have a feeling that is gonna be a midnights 2.0 with a touch of folklore to it :(
maybe it’s just me bc i haven’t seen anyone talking about that yet, but the first thing that came to mind when i saw “but daddy i love him” was harry styles, bc of that shirt of his lol
funny how right-wingers think taylor swift is a deep state agent using the nfl to win the election for biden while people on the far left think she has the power to single-handedly bring peace to the middle east. politics really is a horseshoe.
there's a point in your life on the internet where "oh, it's a weird sex thing" becomes reassuring. there's so many worse reasons that people do things. fly your flag mate
I’d really just like to request your most feral Spencer Reid headcanons. SFW, NSFW, raunchy, tame - whatever. Just your like “I will fight anyone who disagrees, they are fact” type headcanons.
(Because I reread all your headcanons and love every single one)
I BEEN WAITING ON SOMEONE ASKING THIS! i've also just been meaning to make a hc post.
i was gonna split them into nsfw and sfw but they just ended up all mixed together 0-0
submissive and breedable spencer truther til i fucking die i'll get him pregnant don't play with me.
loves messy kisses like spit running down his chin, tongues down each others throat, desperately gripping at each other type of kisses.
maybe just me projecting and taking what mgg said as gospel truth but i fully believe that spencer loves a curvy woman, not even just for sexual reasons he also loves to rest his head on a nice big pair of boobs or thighs.
speaking of, boob guy! shamefully, but still a boob guy! adores groping your boobs whenever he can and would have your boob in his mouth 24/7 if he could, has literally fallen asleep with his head under your shirt and your nipple in his mouth.
munch! like the biggest munch ever, loves nothing more than coming home from a long day and burying his face between your thighs or having you ride his face.
knows full well that toys are his teammate and not his competitors and has no insecurities about you using toys on yourself or owning any.
does not care how well groomed you are, if you asked him what he preferred he'd be like??? it's literally none of my business???
needs lots of reassurance during sex, he just likes to know that he's doing good and making you feel good throughout the whole thing.
doesn't like talking about his sex life, especially with derek, no matter how hard he pressed and pries spencer wont let anything but the bare minimum out.
i imagine he's more drawn to a commanding woman, someone who will take the lead and teach him because of his inexperience and finds that he actually loves being dominated and hardly has any desire to dominate you.
really vocal! even though i've already said it like twice he just is, i can feel it in my bones, he's just such a whiny little baby and can't help but moan loudly any time you're touching him.
is completely against the idea of road head until you do it while you're on a long drive and it both changes his life and almost ends it bcs he swerved into the other lane which was luckily empty.
still gets shy when you kiss him in front even the team even years down the line.
learns to cook so he can make you breakfast whenever you're staying at his apartment.
on the same lines, lovesss morning sex, just that feeling of not wanting to get out your warm bed into the cold air, savouring the warmth in the best way possible.
had no idea what queefing was real until it happened and he was like genuinely so fascinated rather than disgusted.
i feel like spencer would own a bird for sure, not just bcs of gideon but he did help him realise how cool birds are which made him get one, probably a cockatiel or parrotlet with some silly name like dave.
all bark, no bite. likes to act a big game in front of others but the second you're alone he's begging and calling you mommy.
loves nothing more than waking up before you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before carefully and quietly getting out of bed to make you breakfast with the intention of bringing it to you but when you wake up before him and sneak up behind him to wrap your arms around his waist he can't help but melt.
very open to experimenting further down the line, anything you want to try he'll try at least once, except for blindfolds on himself, would be completely open to blindfolding you though.
loves public touching, not outright sex but he'd love when you subtly brush your hand over his crotch or take a handful of his ass in a public place.
teaches you how to knit and cries when you actually make him something like a sweater or even just a hat bcs he realises that's why you wanted to learn in the first place.
can't ride a bike.(this is definitely me projecting bcs i can't but i just feel like he can't okay)
lana enjoyer!!! especially if you are, he just wants to understand all the things you love and if you love lana so does he, he'd love to hear you ramble about your favourite songs and would take note of them and listen to them asap and tell you he loves them even if he didn't like some that much bcs he loves how happy it makes you.
wouldn't want to introduce you to his mother too soon but if you ended up meeting her by chance he'd be sweating buckets in case you didn't get along but you two just bond over your adoration for him and he's just so happy about it.
probably took a while to warm up to physical touch in the beginning bcs of his germophobia but when he finally does he regrets not doing it sooner.
washes his hands every single time before touching you sexually, not even for his benefit, he just wants to be as safe as possible with you.
loves elvis and almost proposes on the spot when you offer to dance with him to can't help falling in love, secretly sheds a few tears while you waltz around his apartment in your pyjamas.
okay i've definitely left stuff out that i've thought of but this is long asf so i'll leave it there😭
This request is inspired by the season 1 finale when Elle and Morgan are on that tropical vacation:) could you do something where the team is somewhere like that for a case and after it’s closed they decide to stay another night and go to a club and the reader gets Spencer to dance with her and at first he’s really awkward but then they really get into it (can end however you want:))
A/N: I took this idea and RAN. When I tell you I was sitting furiously the entire way through this, I mean it 😭 thank you so much for requesting! 🥰
The sun was bright and hot in Jamaica. You'd landed a week ago for a case which had now wrapped and were enjoying the cool breeze from the sea and the hospitality of Derek Morgan’s hotel-resort-owning friend.
Travelling internationally was always a little bit tougher than working on the domestic cases, but the international team was spread thin, and somehow, no case had landed on your desk until this one did. Graciously, the FBI had let you have another 24 hours before your return.
You'd spent the day stretching out in the sun, an incredibly large beach umbrella set up beside you housing Spencer Reid who had let you know early into the trip that he burned easily.
“All I'm saying is, I've read enough papers on skin cancer to know the sun is a deadly laser.”
“A twenty minute game of beach volleyball isn't going to kill you, kid. Come on, these ladies are waiting, and I will leave your ass here.”
“Stop bothering him, Derek,” you defended Spencer, partly because Derek was casting a shadow across you and cutting off your sun, and partly because you didn't want to acknowledge the pit of jealousy bubbling up in your body when the women threw themselves at Spencer. “Besides, do you really want Spencer on your team for a physical sport?”
“Y/N has a point, listen to Y/N,” Spencer whined, nodding profusely at your words.
Derek held his hands up in defeat and walked away, wondering how long it would take the two of you to sort whatever attachment issues you had out.
When the sun had eventually retreated, and you'd pulled the beach dress you'd bought earlier that day back on, Spencer was still at your side.
“You know, I think you caught some sun, Spencer,” you giggled, running a hand across his now permanently rosy cheeks and feeling their warmth. “Your cheeks are so red. It's like a grandma just pinched them and held on.”
“I told you I could look at the sun and burn, and we've been out here all day,” he grumbled, pouting slightly.
You beamed up at him, though. You hadn't forced Spencer out. In fact, you'd been fully prepared for him to stay inside all day reading. But when he asked you your plans at breakfast, he'd asked to join you, and you hadn't protested in the slightest.
Walking slowly back to the main part of your resort, you softly hummed the music that travelled from the outdoor beach bar. The music had been constant throughout the day, and you swayed your hips in time to the music as you walked.
“Y/N…” Spencer started, a few paces behind you. You turned to look at him. His usual wardrobe wasn't exactly the most beach friendly attire, so you'd hunted down a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve button down when you'd bought your dress that morning. You thought they'd hang awkwardly off him, but he filled them out surprisingly well. As he spoke, though, you found yourself unconsciously moving forward to straighten a wrinkle in his shirt.
“I think Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss mentioned they were going to get drinks in the bar this evening. Do you want to go, too?”
Your hand stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him. It was golden hour, and the sun had halo'd him perfectly in its dying rays, showing off its beauty one last time.
You had to recapture the breath you'd hiccuped out when he'd held your gaze, willing your heartbeat to stay somewhat normal.
“Oh, great! That sounds like fun, I was just thinking about how I wanted to dance.”
“I know,” he whispered softly as you turned away cheerfully. You almost didn't hear it, and though you desperately wanted to turn around and ask him why, you continued ahead toward the twinkling lights of the bar.
Three hours later, you were in your cups. You'd worked hard on your case throughout the week, and now it was time for distraction.
Besides, you knew that sun and alcohol weren't always the best pairing, so you'd stayed hydrated on the beach. Now the sun had gracefully set, you were happy to enjoy a glass or two of your liquid joy.
Pulling Spencer Reid onto the dance floor in front of all your coworkers was just another symptom of your piña colada buzz, and he followed you with a small hesitation and a small laugh of protest.
“Y/N, I can't dance.”
“Shhhhhh, you don't have to dance, you just have to sway. Just sway.”
“By my definition, swaying is dancing.”
You rolled your eyes at him but pulled his hands around your waist always. Your coordination faltered, though, and you landed awkwardly high on your body. Without a care in the world for the trail of fire you were igniting down your back, you slid his hands lower, until his hands were sat nearer to your ass than your hips, and you stepped in.
With his arms in position, you threw your own around his neck, and absent mindedly began playing with the curls at the base of his neck.
“Now sway, Spencer.”
His eyes locked with yours, and he obliged. Your chest had pressed up against his after all, your bodies practically flush, and now that you were moving in time to the music, it was inevitable that he should, too.
Time travelled quickly as you stood in the glow of each other, laughing and joking about each clumsy step, each bump from other dancers. Your coworkers had each come up to wave a quick goodbye through the night, but you were still there. Still swaying.
You were sure that his hands had travelled the length of your body, the heat that burned you from inside out having filled your body a millenia ago.
He'd spun you out a couple times, and you'd giggled in delight at the motion, letting your dress raise and spin in the breeze, and returning to a closer position than before, more intimate somehow each time.
The two of you were so lost in each other that by the time the DJ was shutting his system down, you hadn't even realised the music had stopped. You were now simply swaying along to the sound of the waves crashing in and out.
“Y/N,” he finally whispered into your ear as the sun again began to show its head. “Y/N, the sun is coming up.”
“I know. I think…. I think I don't want to let you go just yet, though.” You kept moving together in that silence for a few more minutes, but now your eyes were locked.
It wasn't a surprise when his lips touched your own. After all, you'd seen them coming. But the jolt of electricity it sent up your spine stole your breath anyway.
You opened your mouth to take in some air, and he saw that as welcoming. His tongue tangled with yours as his hand lifted to tip your head back, his back already bent slightly to accommodate your height difference.
His guiding hand wasn't enough, though, he was still not close enough.
You subtly lifted your leg and his hand instantly dropped to your thighs, hauling you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
“Our flight is in six hours,” you panted as his lips left yours, suddenly sober again. “We should get some rest.”
He nodded in agreement, but he was already walking back to your rooms. You each had your own, but he hadn't relinquished his hold on you yet, and you knew he wasn't going to.
Good, you thought, because logic be damned but you weren't planning on letting him.
He carried you like that all the way to his door, as you pressed chaste kisses across his face, head, ears, hair, anywhere you could reach on his body. Places you appreciated because they were beautiful and lovely.
You longed to kiss everywhere else, too.
“Y/N, we're here.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. There was an unspoken question there. An invitation to leave if you didn't want this.
Your answer was a hand in his hair and hips pressed back against his. It was all he needed as he blindly pushed into the room.
You thought he'd throw you down on the bed, but he was much too gentle for that.
Instead, he sat himself down, taking care to make sure you were comfortable even as his tongue twisted and writhed against your own.
With this new position, you could try to relieve some of the tension that had been burning in your body since you'd first pulled his hands to you. Your hips moved in slow circles, pressing down into the now obvious bulge in his pants, picking up speed with each caress of his hand.
He'd pushed under the hem of your dress, his hands on your bare thighs gripping you tightly as you used his body to get off.
You both moaned and whined through each wet kiss, the gentleness of your earlier encounters chaste in comparison with the animalistic need pulsing through yourself.
You nearly growled when he lifted your hips again, but you let him continue his motions as he lay back, guiding your hips higher and higher until you straddled his face.
“Shit, Spencer-” You lost the words as his fingers pulled the two ties holding your bikini bottoms in place, effectively discarding them and leaving you bare. You gasped as you held yourself above him, but he was strong and insistent.
Wrapping one hand around each of your splayed thighs, he pulled your core to his mouth and began to pleasure you. Your hands jolted to the headboard so you could steady yourself.
Your dress still remained, spread across the bed and obscuring his face from view as he flicked his tongue against your clit, like a flower decorating the Emerald green sheets of the bed.
“Spencer, fuck,” his hold on your thighs loosened now that he knee you weren't going anywhere, one hand sliding down to his own neglected cock.
The looser grip meant you could move, just slightly, and so you began to ride his face.
You moved your hips back and forth as he flattened out his tongue, and you heard the music that had carried you into the night start up again.
Your moans were melodic, a tribute to your lust for him, an offering made to show him how truly desired he was.
You came with a shudder, the full weight of your body falling down onto his tongue, but he didn't stop.
His tongue started moving again now your hips had twitched to a stop, prolonging your orgasm by an eternity.
You finally rose up on your knees when you felt a second orgasm begin to build, craving something different this time.
He didn't come out from under your dress so much as rip the thing off of both of you.
You'd already rid yourself of your bikini top earlier in the dar, so you sat bare above him as he pulled you again into his lap, his cock now free from his pants.
Your lips came together again as you hovered over him, his length running through your folds, readying himself for the sweet moment he'd finally be inside you.
“You taste sweet,” he said before you sucked on his tongue, desperate to taste your joint lust.
The music played once again as he pulled your hips lower down and sheathed himself inside you, but louder, a crescendo of perfectly resonant notes sounding one after the other.
You were too lost in it to be any help to him, and he kissed away your fatigue as he lowered you to the bed, gently placing your head on the pillow and smoothing the hair out of your face before pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside you and again pushing in.
His rhythm was steady, pulsing through your entire body. You felt the pleasure of his body inside you everywhere as his lips returned to your ear.
You thought he would talk and say something again, but his teeth found you instead, his to gue licking the spot where your neck met your lobe before he gently nipped the side of your ear.
He couldn't talk, but he didn't hold back any moans.
Your whimpers, his groans, the steady rhythm of your hips meeting and pulling apart, the sound of your arousal slick between your legs, all joined together in a symphony of love as your hearts sang to one another.
“Y/N,” he finally moaned, and hearing your name on his lips like a prayer was enough to send you over the edge.
“Spencer! I'm cumming again, Spencer. Please don't stop-” You begged even as your body tensed up beneath him.
He continued that rhythm, not letting your music end until it was absolutely necessary.
But as the sun shone through the curtains again, you knew you were reaching the end of this song.
“Where should-” he couldn't form the full question, elbows holding his weight off of you as he held back the full force of his orgasm.
“P-Pull out,’ you whispered, and he did.
It took him only a few strokes to find completion on your stomach. He sat back on his knees, mindful not to press his weight back down upon you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed at him anyway, needing to feel his lips on yours one more time.
You wondered if your entire life would now be the moments in between his kisses.
“Y/N, our flight is in 5 hours.”
“We can sleep on the jet. We can't do this on the jet,” you said pulling his head back down for a kiss as you heard the music start up once again.
yk what the funniest thing about this show is? for people who use psychology as the main tool to do their work, they sure as hell are highly against therapy
