reidweeknds

[reidweeknds]

The House Always Wins -S.R

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

Your fork clinks against the edge of the plate as you laugh—head thrown back, relaxed, entirely at home in his living room. It’s your weekly ritual, and you love it. Dinner at Spencer’s.

Sometimes you fuck.

Sometimes you don’t.

But either way, it’s your favorite night of the week.

Tonight’s dinner was pasta—your best attempt yet—and Spencer raved about it even though you forgot the basil. You’re curled up on his couch now, both of you warm and full, legs tangled lazily. Your head rests against his chest, and his fingers are gently toying with the bracelet on your wrist—slowly rolling the beads between his fingers as he speaks.

“Poker is essentially probability,” he’s explaining, eyes fixed somewhere above your head. “There’s the mechanics of betting, of course, but the psychological aspect—bluffing, reading, reaction time—is where it really becomes a game of people more than numbers.”

You smile. “So you're telling me I’d be better at poker than you?”

He snorts. “Statistically unlikely.”

“Ah, but I’m hot. People get distracted.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Not a valid statistical advantage.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t work,” you hum, shifting your body a little. He keeps playing with the bracelet like it grounds him, his touch light and casual. Comforting.

Your other hand has been slowly inching across his stomach for the past several minutes. Inch by inch, over his Henley, fingers brushing barely-there circles, until you’re right over the waistband of his sweats. Your palm gently presses lower—just slightly. Just enough to graze the unmistakable shape of his growing hard-on.

He falters mid-sentence. You look up at him, your head still on his chest, lips curled into a barely-there smirk. “Something wrong, Doctor?”

He clears his throat, eyes flicking away. “You’re… you’re distracting.”

You raise an eyebrow, continuing your slow exploration. “I thought you were immune to distraction.”

“Not from you.”

Your fingers dip below the waistband, teasing along the ridge of him through his boxers. He inhales sharply.

“You were saying?” you ask sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes.

He glares—flustered, aroused, absolutely at your mercy.

“I was saying that poker is—fuck—about control,” he breathes as you wrap your fingers around him, slowly stroking through the thin fabric.

Your hand cups him properly now, palming him through the soft fabric, and he hisses between his teeth. His cock is already half-hard—hot and thick and twitching beneath your touch. You slide your palm up the length of him, teasingly slow.

His eyes cut to yours—dark, hungry, frustrated and fond all at once. “I thought you wanted to learn poker.”

You tug at the waistband of his sweats, dragging them down just enough to free him, thick and flushed and already dripping at the tip.

“I am learning,” you say innocently, brushing your lips against his inner thigh. “I’m learning that you’re incredibly easy to distract.”

He groans softly when you wrap your hand around him—slow strokes, base to tip, slick with his own arousal. “Fuck—”

“Call,” you whisper, dragging your tongue up the length of him, “or fold.”

Spencer’s head tips back against the couch cushion, his hips rocking up into your touch.

“I fold,” he breathes. “I fucking fold.”

And just like that, you take him into your mouth.

Slow at first, building your rhythm like it’s part of the game—lips slick, jaw loose, hand wrapped tight at the base to keep him right on the edge. Spencer is wrecked in minutes, fingers twisted in the blanket, whispering curses into the air like he forgot you were Hotch’s daughter and not just the girl who’s been driving him insane every night this week.

“You’re gonna—” he warns, but you don’t let up.

You hum low around him instead.

His whole body jerks, and then he’s gone—coming hard down your throat, a sharp gasp cutting through the silence. You swallow every drop, pulling back slowly with a satisfied sigh.

Spencer slumps, totally boneless, head lolling against the couch.

You crawl back up his chest, straddling his hips now, heart pounding. He reaches up, cupping your cheek like he’s forgotten every reason he ever gave himself to keep this casual.

“You win,” he murmurs, voice hoarse.

You smile. “That was only the first round.”

a/n: slut for Spencer Reid <3

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[reidweeknds]

Rafe Cameron- Stay on the Call

Paring: workaholic!rafe and bold!reader

Summary: Rafe’s trying to stay professional during a call. You’re under the desk making sure he can’t. And when he thinks he hits mute—things get very, very public.

CW: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, NSFW (18+), power play, teasing, office setting(at home), mic fail, light degradation, established relationship.

note: chattt, i’m lowk liking this writing life style. anyways, im gonna make a spencer fic reallll soon. so, yeah. enjoy :)

Rafe had been holed up in his home office all day. Meetings, reports, back-to-back video calls—it was torture. Not for him, maybe, but for you.

You were bored out of your mind, growing needier by the hour. You missed his hands on you, the press of his lips against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down. And with each passing minute, the want twisting in your gut got harder to ignore.

He hadn’t touched you all day.

You had enough.

You padded down the hallway, silent but purposeful, and cracked the door open. Rafe was sitting at his desk, speaking in that deep, professional voice of his, lips moving as his eyes flicked between tabs on his screen. A group of men filled his monitor—some finance meeting, from what little you could hear.

His eyes lifted when he noticed you.

He didn’t say a word—just gave you that look. Stern. Sharp. A warning. His gaze dropped to the door, then back to you, his brow twitching upward in silent instruction.

Leave.

You didn’t.

Instead, you stepped inside, shutting the door behind you slowly. You didn’t break eye contact. You didn’t smile. You didn’t need to. Rafe knew that look in your eyes.

Need.

You crossed the room without a sound and sank to your knees beneath the desk.

His body stiffened immediately.

“Yeah… right, the—uh—the budget report,” he said, voice faltering as your hands smoothed up his thighs.

You heard the shifting of fabric as you reached for his belt. The soft clink of the buckle made his breath hitch. His eyes never left the screen, but his hand curled into a fist on the desk.

You smiled.

Slowly, you undid his belt, unzipped his slacks, and pulled them down just enough to reveal the growing bulge beneath his boxers. He was already hardening for you. You pressed a kiss to his clothed length, just once, and he grunted—quiet, but not quiet enough.

One of the men on the call spoke up, “You alright, Rafe?”

Rafe cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry—just, uh, spilled my water.”

You smirked. Liar.

You slipped your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, and his cock sprang free—thick, flushed, twitching in the cool air. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, watching his knuckles whiten as he gripped the edge of the desk.

He was doing everything he could not to look down.

You kissed the tip, soft and teasing, then ran your tongue along the underside. His hips shifted forward almost involuntarily.

“I’ll send over that file tonight,” he said through clenched teeth. His voice was tight, his breathing shallow.

You took him into your mouth.

Rafe inhaled sharply through his nose, hand slamming down on the desk. He thought he hit mute. He didn’t check. He was too distracted—by the warmth of your mouth, the suction, the way your head moved in slow, deliberate strokes.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” he hissed—out loud, clear, unmuted.

The call went silent.

A beat passed.

“…Rafe?” someone said.

He froze. So did you.

The realization hit him a second too late. He looked down in horror, eyes wide. A chorus of awkward coughs and camera clicks filled the call as the screen blinked out—men scrambling to leave without another word.

You pulled off of him with a wet pop and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smug as ever.

“Well,” you said, voice sticky sweet, “guess you can come out the office now.”

Rafe dragged a hand over his face, mortified.

“You’re so dead,” he muttered.

You grinned. “Promise?”

[reidweeknds]

Charlie Walker- Scene One, Take Me

Paring: sub!charlie and dom!reader

Summary: Charlie talks movies. You shut him up—with your mouth.

CW: Explicit sexual content, oral sex, NSFW (18+), power play, light domination, dirty talk, movie commentary during sex, canon divergence (Charlie lives), mild degradation/praise kink, established relationship.

note: hey…so this is the first fic i’ll be posting on here. i know like a long time ago, i said my first fic would be about Spencer Reid. buttt, i got bored. anyways, enjoy :)

You and Charlie were curled up on the couch, a familiar horror flick playing in the background—Stab, one of his all-time favorites. It had become somewhat of a tradition by now: movie night, cuddled up close, with Charlie doing what he did best—talking through every scene.

He wasn’t being annoying, not to you. In fact, you kind of loved it.

He broke the film down piece by piece, explaining trivia, pointing out subtle foreshadowing, narrating like he was on a commentary track. You weren’t even sure if he knew he was doing it half the time—it just flowed out of him so effortlessly.

You watched him more than the screen. The way his hands moved while he spoke, animated and expressive, the tendons in his forearms flexing with every gesture. His fingers danced in the air like punctuation marks. The light from the screen cast shadows on his jawline, and you found yourself fixated on his mouth—how his lips curled around each word.

God, he was beautiful when he was like this.

“Hey… are you even listening to me?” he asked suddenly, glancing over.

You blinked, caught staring. “Of course I am, baby,” you said quickly, giving him a soft smile. “I was just zoning out for a second. Keep going, I like it.”

That was all the encouragement he needed to dive right back into his tangent, hands resuming their flurry of motion.

But as much as you adored his passion, you were starting to feel a little… restless. He’d been talking for a while now—longer than usual. And while your heart adored every second, another part of you was growing needy.

Your eyes drifted to his belt.

An idea sparked.

Slowly, casually, you reached over and began to unbuckle it, your fingers slipping beneath the edge of the smooth black leather. The sound of the metal clinking made him falter mid-sentence.

“Wait—Y/N?” he asked, confused. “If you wanted me to stop, you could’ve just said so.”

You looked up at him, innocent. “Oh, no. Don’t stop, Charlie. Keep talking.”

You tugged his jeans down, and he froze, eyes wide as your hand brushed against the waistband of his boxers. You slid off the couch and settled on your knees in front of him.

Charlie let out a shaky breath as you pulled his boxers down, his half-hard cock springing free into your waiting hands.

“I… um,” he stammered, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, so… so the director actually based this scene off—ahh…”

You hummed in approval, pretending to listen, as you slowly began stroking him. Your hand moved with purpose, gentle but teasing, dragging a needy whimper from his throat.

“I-I was saying… the—fuck—the pacing is meant to—"

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his tip, then licking a slow stripe along the underside. Charlie choked on a word.

“I didn’t tell you to stop talking,” you murmured against his skin.

“Y/N…” he breathed, barely able to speak. “I’m trying…”

“Try harder.”

And with that, you took him into your mouth.

His hands gripped the edge of the couch as your head bobbed rhythmically, lips wrapped tightly around him. He trembled above you, every muscle tensing as he fought to stay composed.

“I-it was supposed to be… shit, baby—supposed to be a commentary on horror tropes…” he gasped, voice hitching as you swirled your tongue around the tip. “Oh my god—”

“You’re doing so good, Charlie,” you purred between licks, letting your fingers replace your mouth just long enough for him to breathe. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

His face was flushed, eyes half-lidded, body already starting to shake. Still, he tried.

“So—fuck—the killer wasn’t supposed to be revealed yet, but they changed it in—ah, ahhh—post-production…”

You smiled around him, taking him deeper as his voice cracked into moans and choked curses. He was unraveling.

“Y/N—I-I’m close… baby, I’m gonna—shit, I can’t—”

You sped up.

“Come on, Charlie,” you whispered, licking the sensitive underside as his hips bucked up helplessly. “Be a good boy for me.”

That was all it took.

He came hard, whimpering your name as he spilled into your mouth, thighs trembling beneath your touch. You swallowed everything, savoring the way he shuddered from overstimulation, his body twitching as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

When you finally pulled away, you licked your lips and looked up at him sweetly.

“Mmm. You did so good, baby. Now…” you said, resting your chin on his thigh, “tell me more about Stab.”

He looked completely wrecked—flushed, panting, eyes glazed over in bliss and disbelief.

You were going to be the death of him.

[reidweeknds]

💬 Just a Small Update, and a Big Thank You

Dear friends, kind hearts, and everyone who has stood with us,

When I first opened my heart to the world and shared our story, I never imagined the amount of love and solidarity we would receive. Thanks to your incredible support, we’ve now reached $12,837—a milestone that brings real light to some very dark days.

From the deepest corners of my heart, thank you.

💔 A Journey of Loss, but Also of Strength

As many of you know, I’ve lost 25 of my loved ones during this devastating war. That grief lives with me every single day. It’s in the silence that once held laughter, in the empty spaces where we once gathered as a family.

But through your help, I’ve also felt something else: hope. And that hope is priceless.

“21/Oct/2023 Before It Reached Us: The Day Our Neighbor’s House Was Destroyed” A quiet moment of fear, filmed just before everything changed.

“22/Oct/2023 The Morning After: Our Family Home in Ruins” This is what was left behind after the bombing of our home.

🌿 What Life Looks Like for Us Now

Despite everything, we’re still here. Still surviving. Still hoping.

But things have only gotten harder.

The war has returned, more brutal than before—and for over a month now, Gaza has been completely sealed off. No food is coming in. No medical supplies. No aid. No trade. No one is allowed to leave, and no one is allowed to enter.

We’re trapped.

🏚 We live with the fear of tomorrow, every single day. Airstrikes, drones, and the uncertainty of what might happen next. 👨‍👩‍👧 Our family is forever changed—we haven’t just lost people; we’ve lost pieces of ourselves. 📉 Basic needs go unmet—even clean water feels like a luxury now. Medicines, if they exist at all, are unreachable.

And yet…

Your support reminds us that we’re not forgotten. It reminds us that someone, somewhere, is still listening. That someone still cares. That we’re not completely alone in this.

Every message. Every share. Every dollar. It tells us: You’re walking this road with us. And that gives us the strength to keep going.

💖 What You Can Do

If you’ve already donated—thank you beyond words. If you can share our story again, it could reach someone who can help.

Even $5 means warmth, comfort, and a chance to breathe a little easier.

✨ Why It All Matters

This isn’t just about reaching a fundraising goal. It’s about surviving war with dignity. It’s about believing in tomorrow. It’s about making sure my daughter grows up knowing that the world did not look away.

Thank you for your kindness, patience, and belief in our humanity. You’ve helped me find my voice—and I will use it to keep hope alive.

🙏 From the Heart: A Quiet Apology

There’s something I need to say—something that’s been on my heart for some time.

When I first began sharing our story, I didn’t know what the right way was. I was scared, grieving, and trying to protect my family in any way I could. I reached out to many people, hoping someone, anyone, would see us. In that process, I now realize I may have overstepped, and I might have made some feel overwhelmed.

If that happened, I am truly sorry.

Please believe me when I say it was never out of disregard or pushiness. It came from a place of fear—fear of being forgotten, fear of not being able to keep my family safe, fear of watching everything I love slip away in silence.

I’m learning as I go. I’ve slowed down. I’m more mindful now, trying to share our journey in a way that feels respectful of the space and hearts of those listening.

If my words ever came at the wrong time, or in the wrong way, I hope you can understand where they came from—and I hope you can forgive me.

Thank you for seeing past my mistakes. Thank you for still being here. It means more than I can ever explain.

Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 )

With love and endless gratitude, Mosab and family ♥️

[reidweeknds]

My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

[reidweeknds]

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

[reidweeknds]

teaaaaaa !

You immediately gained Hawk and Miguel’s attention as soon as you walked into the party. Their eyes shamelessly moved up and down your body, enraptured by the light reflecting off your smooth legs and the tightness of your top clinging to your chest. You threw your long hair back over your shoulders as you laughed at something your friend said. The way your face brightened was already a turn on for them if they were being quite honest.

Miguel stared in awe as if a goddess herself walked through the door. The beauty he was witnessing was one he knew he could never find again in the world. He would get down on his hands and knees to worship the ground you walked upon, do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

Hawk smirked to himself. He loved challenges and you looked like a puzzle that he had to complete. He could become anything you wanted him to if that meant you being under him by the end of the night. He’d let himself fall with the risk of not knowing if you were at the bottom or not. Your word would be sacred to him.

You were rummaging through the cooler for a drink when you noticed them. Hawk was leading with Miguel trailing behind.

“Looking for anything specific,” he asked. There was a lively glint in his eye that was easy to detect.

“Just something good,” you answered. “I don’t like to waste my time on disappointment.”

Hawk raised his eyebrows at the phrase, intrigued. “I’d hate for that to happen.” He walked past you to the fridge.

As he looked through, you glanced at his quiet friend. He sent you a sheepish smile that you returned.

“It’s Miguel, right,” you asked him.

“Um, ye— yeah. Yeah, it’s Miguel.”

The way you stared from head to toe made him inhale shakily. What were you thinking? What did you want from him?

Hawk handed you a bottle that made you nod, impressed. He walked back to Miguel and threw his arm around his shoulders.

“Only the baddest badass in the whole damn valley,” he bragged. This made Miguel’s cheeks glow red as he shook his head and laughed.

You observed the way they bantered with each other. Not exactly like brothers, but something different.

“I gotta get back to my friends, but I’ll see you guys later.” You popped the cap off the bottle and took a drink while you walked away.

Hawk’s face fell as he quickly turned around. “W— wait.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “We thought you wanted to hang out for a bit. With us.”

You looked back and forth between them. Between Hawk’s words and Miguel’s pleading eyes, they shared a look of desperation.

“Maybe later.”

Miguel’s shoulders slumped, dismayed, but Hawk patted his shoulder.

“She said later,” Hawk repeated once you left.

“And there was a maybe before it,” Miguel added. “What makes you think she’d want to hang out with us?”

“Because we’re awesome?” He spoke as if it was the most obvious observation in the world.

“Not when you say shit like that.”

Miguel pushed his shoulder playfully that Hawk returned with a grin. They moved past the moment to try and enjoy themselves with the rest of the party, unaware of you staring from a distance. The corner of your lip upturned watching them.

The party was going on for hours. Even when hoards of people left, the energy was still there. Throughout the night, you had exchanged small glances and smiles towards Hawk and Miguel, like you were acknowledging the fact you haven’t forgotten about them.

Miguel was watching from one of the lounge seats outside as you waved off to your friends driving away. He was confused to why you haven’t left, but it gave him a small amount of hope. That small feeling grew once he saw you walking towards them. He hit Hawk’s arm for his attention.

The boy looked at Miguel and back at you. His smirk returned.

“Mind if I sit?” Your head tilted to the side as you smiled. One leg was crossed over the other while you kept your hands behind your back. It looked purely innocent in their eyes.

“Go ahead.” Hawk gestured to the empty seat next to Miguel and took a drink from his cup.

Miguel noticed the way your skirt was riding up your legs when you sat down. His eyes shifted towards yours to see you were already staring at him, that same pretty smile on your face.

“So, you guys met doing karate,” you asked.

“A little before that. I guess karate brought us closer.” Hawk nudged Miguel’s arm with his fist softly.

“And which one of you is the best?” They seemed confused, so you clarified, “At karate.”

They were a little surprised at the forward question. Glancing at each other, they shrugged.

“Technically, Miguel’s won the All Valley tournament,” Hawk stated.

“Yeah, but so did you this year. Not to mention, you were in the semi-finals last year,” Miguel added. “And you represented us for the Sekai Tekai.”

You watched them curiously go back and forth as they engaged with one another.

“Look how that ended.” A bitter look overcame Hawk as he remembered the most recent fight.

“That doesn’t matter, man,” Miguel defended. “You would’ve won that fair if they didn’t cheat. That ref didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.”

For a boy so shy and sweet looking, you liked the assertiveness he brought when it came to defending his friend. Hawk must’ve thought the same thing as his cheeks tinted a light red.

“I haven’t seen you guys fight before.” Your tone made it sound like a challenge. You didn’t say more after, but it also seemed like enough said.

“Have you ever wanted to do karate,” Miguel asked you.

“When I was younger, I did. My mom took me out, though, because she thought it gave me aggression issues. Which, it didn’t. She just thought it was too violent.” You rolled your eyes while leaning back in the chair.

“It can be.”

Both boys started remembering everything that had happened to them after joining karate. Although there were a lot of great moments, the bad ones could never be forgotten. There was a point in time they feared their friendship would never be the same anymore.

“Sounds like you two have a long history together,” you said. “Is there anything else you guys share besides karate?”

Miguel chuckled a bit. “What do you mean share?”

You shrugged innocently. “What do you think I mean?”

The two boys glanced at each other, unsure if they were understanding you correctly. You looked back and forth between them as you awaited an answer.

“I don’t know. I mean we’re kind of polar opposites in ways, I guess,” Hawk answered.

“So, like, one of you is a virgin and the other is a freak in the sheets?”

Miguel laughed nervously into his cup to hide his red face while Hawk found your questions amusing.

“Who would you think is who,” Hawk asked.

You hummed while tilting your head. You reached over to place your hand on Miguel’s shoulder, the tips of your fingers skimming his curls.

“You look as innocent as they come,” you told him. Noticing Hawk’s smug smile, you continued, “But it’s always the innocent ones that are the kinkiest, right?” You sat back in the chair, your touch leaving Miguel’s. “So, do either of you live around here?”

Miguel cleared his throat and pointed. “Yeah. Just over there.”

You nodded and stood up. They watched as you walked towards his apartment. You looked back at them.

“Are you coming?” You made sure to make eye contact with each boy.

Hawk and Miguel glanced at each other and quickly stood up, trailing behind. You waited patiently for Miguel to open the door and he welcomed you inside. It was dark, meaning no one was home.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

Miguel felt himself get choked up. “Bed— bedroom? It’s, um, it’s just down the hallway.”

You nodded, walking that way. Hawk was eagerly close behind with a restless Miguel. Thankfully, he cleaned his room beforehand.

You pushed open the door and stepped inside. “I like your posters.” You chuckled staring at a particular one. “My mom loves Guns N’ Roses. She plays it like every morning.”

The boys were too nervous to even respond. They were both wondering if this was heading into the direction they think it was. Their answer came quickly as you carefully sat down on Miguel’s bed. You didn’t say anything and looked at them with a single raised brow.

In a blink of an eye, the boys were on either side of you. You couldn’t help but smile at their excitement. They sat so close to you, your legs were pressed against the fabric of their jeans. A small breath left your lips as you looked at Hawk.

You placed your hand on his cheek and leaned in. He did the same until you turned your head last minute to place a gingerly kiss on his cheek. You pulled away with an innocent smile. The comforter crumpled under Hawk’s grip as he shifted relentlessly. You knew what you were doing.

You looked at Miguel who gulped. You paused your movements in silent questioning and received a nod in response. His hand immediantly grasped the side of your neck as you leaned up to kiss him.

God, Miguel Diaz had to be the most gentle person to ever exist.

He moved with such care, as if savoring the taste of you on his tongue. His grip on you never tightened, only held you close. A stirring in his stomach occurred as your hand moved to his knee and squeezed lightly. He could feel your movements slowing down as you started to pull away. He couldn’t help but chase you pathetically, receiving another squeeze on his knee as a promise.

You looked at Hawk again who was more than prepared. A small smirk was the last thing he saw on your lips before diving in. He moved at a quicker pace. His hand went to your inner thigh, making you squirm. A low moan came from you as he massaged the skin tenderly. For someone with such a soft touch, his mouth was otherwise.

When you pulled away, he attached himself to your neck, peppering kisses everywhere he could. You looked back at Miguel, seeing his blown-out eyes and parted lips. You used your thumb and pointer finger to grab his chin and guide him towards you. As his lips moved against yours, his hand travelled to your stomach and slowly made its way up.

You pulled away again and Miguel kept himself busy on the other side of your neck. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of both boys marking you up, their hands skimming around your body.

Hawk and Miguel pulled away and looked at you for their next move. You grabbed both of them, guiding them towards the middle until the three of you collided.

It was messy and hot. Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. You started going back and forth with them as they started closing in on you more and more. It nearly made it difficult to turn your head, but one of the boys was always there, awaiting their turn.

You slowly departed from them. But they kept going.

You leaned back on your elbows as Hawk and Miguel indulged with each other. You weren’t sure if they were aware of your lack of presence, or perhaps, they didn’t care. It was like they were starving for each other and succumbed into their cravings.

A low laugh came from you that made them stop. They stared at each other momentarily and looked at you.

“Just friends, my ass,” you retorted, sitting up. You still had a smile on your face as you kissed Hawk first, then Miguel. “You guys are adorable.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. He looked at Hawk who was in the same state, one of his arms wrapping around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. His hand found Miguel’s and gave a light squeeze.

hera speaks!

challengers, but cobra kai edition

[reidweeknds]

OMG YES! just let him use it, and we could’ve gotten straight to the point😭.

Let's be real.

[reidweeknds]

I WISH I WAS IN SCREAM BRO!

need a nerdy boy to let me suck his dick while he rambles to me about all of his silly interests 😣😣😣

[reidweeknds]

if only..

Imagine the team thinking Spencer is so sweet and innocent, a total virgin and any sexual encounter he would’ve had must have been so vanilla.

Sweet innocent Spencer Reid, who rails you into oblivion every single night, who makes you forget your own name and scream his so loud the entire neighbourhood knows who’s making you feels so fucking good.

[reidweeknds]

dbjebensnsjnsnabdbjejshdjdndn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!??/$2782@/@-‘andjxhbsjwiHhujabwbb!/&2&1@@/!:!!.&&/nsjwjsmsjdbf

[reidweeknds]

"I don't know what to do without you"

[reidweeknds]

omg literally charlie reacting to his crush wearing one of those small tees with silly little cunty phrases on em, like "I <3 pathetic men" or "massive tits small heart" shit like thatttt

literal legend | charlie walker <3

a/n: im so sorry this took a while for me to get out 😭 but ilovethisideasomuchomg. also, don't mind the title, something about those shirts remind me of ayesha erotica.. so it feels very much needed

18+ content ahead, pure and absolute filth!!please don't read unless your comfortable with that!!

so, one day he spotted you in the hallway walking to your next class (obviously he didn't say anything, he's to shy :3) and he saw your shirt, he read it to himself 'i ❤ pathetic men' he found it a lil weird, but didn't pay too close attention

until the next day, when you were wearing something different, he overheard you talking with kirby about something, and you referred to charlie as a so called 'pathetic man' and plenty of other terms along those lines

the next day, you wore a similar shirt 'i eat boys' that one.. scared him, he feared for his life /hj

he let the silly phrases marinate in his brain a little, then really thought about the shirts you had been wearing

bro probably masturbated to the thought of you calling him your pathetic bitch boy

now he... really wants to have sex with you :3

omg and maybe one day when your wearing one of those shirts (maybe i ❤ nerds 🤭) and your little group of people (not friends, Jills there/j, please don't kill me Jill stans) are all hanging out, maybe at kirbys house, just watching movies

you sit yourself down next to charlie, eyeing him up and down every second you get

he can feel you staring at him, and he kinda just freezes, trying his best to watch the movie

everyone goes off to do whatever, and you and charlie are just left alone together, he decided to ask you what those shirts mean (even though it's obvious)

so your just like 'i have this one because i do in fact, love nerds.'

and ya know.. charlie could be classified as a nerd, right?

a/n: im sorry if this one's bad, i very much rushed to get it done

[reidweeknds]

“oh baby of course we can cuddle. I just need to stick my dick in you first. you understand, right?”

[reidweeknds]

literallyyyy!! i will always defend him🧏🏽‍♀️.

HE’S INNOCENT YOUR HONOUR ྀིྀི

[reidweeknds]

♡♡♡♡