i crave tattoos

How long will I have to crave you, until it becomes unbearable?
My hands are already numb from the lack of your skin against them.
I want to be wrapped up in you now..
I mean, I can wait, but patience is a bitch and
The issue is that I’m too greedy for this.
—  Nicole Torres// #24
I want to touch lives.

I crave these fingerprints tattooed on souls scattered throughout this planet.

I don’t need credit,
I just wish to be the flutter in your chest – the tiny flapping of wings
That spark your change.

The inexplicable, overwhelming empowerment that flows over you
When standing up for yourself.

I want to be the gusts that begin the clearing of clouds;
The reason you catch a long overdue glimpse of sunlight.

I don’t wish to be the center of anything,
But I long to be a catalyst to the fire burning deep inside others.

I hope to plant the seeds that become redwood forests;
You possess the durability you seek,
I long to help you discover this truth.
—  2017: #127/365

anonymous asked:

Oooo can you do one where Reid finds out the reader has just gotten nipple piercings and he sometimes plays with them gently when they watch tv? The whole arm-over-the-shoulders thing? Please?

Haha!  Sounds like a kinky day of writing to me!  I can most certainly do this.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha!

Jumping up from the couch at the sound of the doorbell, you grab your wallet.  You had ordered you and Spencer some Chinese food, and you figured he would be here by now.

Opening the door, you see a smiling Spencer, holding on to your bag of Chinese with some change in hand.

“I’m paying you back, you know,” you playfully glare at him.

“No, you’re not,” he says, tucking the loose money into his pocket as he steps into your apartment.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he says sheepishly, setting down his messenger bag.

“It’s not a problem, I know it’s your job,” you say, smiling at him as you give him a welcome home hug.

“Besides, you called every night like you said you would, and it was nice to be able to talk to you.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, smiling at you as his cheeks turn red.

“So, out of the box or off of a plate?” you say, looking at the food as your stomach growls.

“Out of the box is fine with me,” he says, sitting down on your couch as you turn the TV on to the Dr. Who marathon.


Throwing away the trash, you grab the blanket on the other end of the couch, tossing it over the two of you as Spencer sits back down on the couch.

“That was way too much food,” he groans, his little pot-belly jutting out from stuffing so much rice into it.

“Never.  Again,” you state, groaning as you lean in to him, his arm slipping around your shoulders.

Watching the episode, you feel Spencer lightly brush back and forth on the exposed skin of your upper chest, his warm fingers dancing back and forth as the hair on your arms starts to stand up on end.

You assume that Spencer had seen, because he dips his hand a little lower, your breath hitching in your throat as he brushes his hand slowly down into your cleavage.

That’s when you realized that he didn’t know about your nipple piercings.

Pulling away quickly, you clear your throat and steady yourself upright, your face flushing as you continue to watch the episode.

Furrowing his brow at you, he takes your hand and sighs, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.  I just…I just thought that….you know…you were enjoying it, is all.  I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Looking over at him, his puppy dog eyes somber and concerned, you sigh as you say, “No, no.  I was.  It felt…really good.  You know?  There’s just something you don’t know about me…and I have no idea if you’ll even like it.”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, taking your face in his hands, “There is nothing about you that I could not like,” he says, smiling lightly at you.  “If your comfortable talking about it, I’m here.  If not?  I’m still here,” he whispers the last part, placing a light kiss on your forehead.

Sighing, you lift your shirt over your head, Spencer’s eyes widening at your reaction as he takes in your naked torso.

Cascading up your left side was a beautiful tattoo of a flower vine, with thorns and roses jutting out everywhere, and right there, on your beautifully perky breasts…

Were nipple piercings.

As you watch Spencer’s gaze stop on the piercings, you see him slowly lick his bottom lip…your skin flushing at his reaction.

“I just…figured you wouldn’t be into women that…well…that are into this,” you say, flopping your arms off to the sides as you huff with nervousness.

“Do you…um…have any other…well, tattoos or piercings anywhere?” Spencer hesitantly asks.

“No.  But I have been craving another tattoo lately,” you smile to yourself, looking down at your naked torso as you close yourself back off again, wrapping your arms around your naked breasts.

“Come here,” he coos, lifting his arm for you to cuddle back underneath him.

Slowly climbing back over, you bury your body in to his, his arm draping over your shoulders, pulling you close as you wrap your arms around his clothed torso, your fingers pushing his shirt up so that you can feel a little bit of his warm skin underneath your hands.

As you continue to watch the marathon, you feel Spencer’s hand slowly drift to your breast, his fingers circling and playing with your piercing.

“Is this, um…uh…is it alright?” he asks, stumbling over his words as you giggle at his politeness.  Always checking to see if you were alright.

You loved that about him.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, your hands pressing into his bare skin as you hear his breath hitch ever so slightly.

And as he continues to play with your nipple piercings, slowly making them stand at attention, you push your body as close as you can get in to his, trying to keep your moans to yourself as you feel your core churning with every flick of his fingers.

Five for Friday
  1. I have to go food shopping and I am dreading it because taking the bus makes my whole ass pucker up and once that happens I am just a moody jerkoff pushing a shopping cart with a wobbly wheel.
  2. I am gaining weight faster than I can eat the food. This is making me ridiculously depressed. I see someone looking back at me in the mirror that I don’t want to know and yet I am falling apart with resignation.
  3. My dishwasher broke a year ago and my landlord refuses to replace it and today I paid $50 bucks for a professional to verify that it in fact is broken. Well…HE paid. Because fuck that. My dishpan hands are flipping him off.
  4. I am craving a tattoo. I want a sleeve in the worst way. I dream about it and I have for over 15 years. Hopefully this summer I can get it started.
  5. Intimacy is not a dirty word. Touch is crucial for a relationship to survive.  There’s more to fucking than sticking a dick in your vagina. There needs to be softness, sensuality, passion. And none of those are going to happen if your idea of foreplay is pressing your dick into someone’s ass crack or quickly putting your mouth on someone’s genitals.