neighborhood writer barbie

• gaga • 21 • she/her • black • writer on the sidelines • full time student • BLM • multifandom • icon and header from pinterest! • free palestine 🇵🇸•

[altsvu]

welcome wild ones!

asks: OPEN! requests: CLOSED (for now)!

secondary blogs:

✰ criminal minds: @ssagaga

✰ law and order svu: @rafaelbarbasupremacy

✰ nsfw: @cobrrakai

about me! ❁

about my blog! (please read!) ❁

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✰ Law and Order SVU Masterlist

✰ Criminal Minds Masterlist

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taglist! ❁

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🇵🇸🇵🇸🍉🍉

[altsvu]

hi guys i'm still alive... life is lifeing fr

[harmshake]

I'mma say this...you cannot separate politics from morals because your morals dictate your politics.

What you believe in will influence what you vote for. And if you think that doesn't matter because "opinions are opinions," look at how some opinions show up on ballots that get voted on and become laws.

When you are in a position of influence like celebs, your morals, aka your politics, are heard loud and clear. And can sometimes be harmful.

Being central is like being neutral on your morals. Neutral on empathy and compassion. So, say it with your chest or don't say it at all.

Be antiracist, antihomophobic, antitransphobic, antibigotry. And be loud about it.

[hotgeniusreid]

Have you ever tried… This position?

Aaron Hotchner x F! Reader

Mentions of: Sex, P in V (wrap it b4 you tap it), riding (SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOY YEEHAW), oral (M! Receiving), not proofread we die like men

!!!NSFW/MINORSS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!!!

One thing you had come to realize since your relationship with the BAUs Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was that without a doubt, he was a very dominant man. He’d soften up when he’d come home from work and see Jack, but in bed? The dominance continued, not that you were complaining but you had spent many lonely nights wondering what it would be like to be on top just once, would he lose his composure? What noises would he make?

You sighed, once again losing focus on the book you were reading, letting out a groan of frustration and tossing the book on the couch, you were losing your mind over something so trivial, you loved being under him, but the thought of being the one on top had you spiraling, you had to experience it at least once and then you’d stop obsessing over it. Standing up from the couch, you had made a decision, thankfully Jack was away at his aunts house for the night, and Aaron was coming tonight from a rather difficult case, you had made up your mind, your were going to ride this man like if your life depended on it.

You had it all planned out, hopping out of the shower, you blow dried and styled your hair, and slipped on your favorite lingerie, a baby blue lace babydoll nightgown with matching lace panties, one night during a girls night with the BAU girls, you had confessed that you had a thing for buying pretty lingerie, you never really had the chance to wear them though, because Aaron always cut right to the chase, always taking you to the room and commanding you to strip with that dominant tone. You did your makeup subtly, and dolled yourself up with some jewelry, spraying his favorite perfume you own, and slipping a short silk white robe on top. Looking at the time, you realized you still had more than enough time to cook dinner and set up the table.

The sound of the door opening and keys being dropped into the bowl by the door signalled that Aaron was finally home, you slipped out of the kitchen and met him at the door, “Hi honey, how was the case?” You murmured as you wrapped your arms around him, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his, his arm wrapped around your back as he returned the kiss, “A bit tiring, but we managed to catch the unsub, how are you? Where’s Jack?” He asked, looking around, waiting for Jack to come out and welcome him home. “Jack is having a sleepover with Jessica tonight, said something about a movie night.” You smiled softly, “Come to the table, I just finished making dinner, it’s your favorite.” Turning around, you walked off to the kitchen, his eyes finally raked over your body, breath hitching at the fact that you were wearing the smallest silk robe that looked so nice against your body, he could feel himself growing hard, if only he knew what was under.

He walked into the kitchen, the smell of a home cooked meal making him smile, he loved you more than you could ever know, and seeing you do something so domestic such as serving him food truly made him appreciate just how much you did for him and Jack. He wrapped his arms around you as you began serving the food onto plates, “All right, what’s the big idea hm? Cooking my favorite meal, and looking so pretty, what did I do to deserve this?” You let out a giggle, throwing your head back against him, taking in the fact he was home, “nothing, just wanted to show you how much I missed you, I also happened to have a lot of free time today.” A chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, “Honey you spoil me, takeout and a movie would have been just fine, unless, there’s an ulterior motive for this?” He said, his hand stopping at the tie on your waist. Setting the plate down on the counter, you froze, had he really found you out? Turning around and looking at him with a pout, “Me? Ulterior motive? You wound me Aaron. But maybe I suppose you might be right.” You murmured sensually, turning around and pressing a kiss to his neck, he let out a low hum as he gripped your waist. “I think dinner can wait a little longer, I think I’m hungry for something else.” He said, his voice deep and wanting.

In an instant, his hands were at the tie of your robe, loosening it, a groan fought its way out of his throat at the sight of your lingerie that he was not expecting, his eyes raking down your body, he took in how well the lingerie hugged your curves, he licked his lips, “God you look so fucking pretty baby, this all for me?” You nodded your head, “Why don’t we go to the room?” You said turning around and walking to your shared room, swaying your hips, his pupils dilated, taking in the sight of your ass, he palmed his now achingly hard cock, ridding himself of his shoes and following you to the room. He closed the door behind himself and the moment the door closed he was on you, bringing your body against his, his erection pressed against your ass as you let out a mewl, you wanted to submit to him right then and there, but you remembered the task at hand.

You turned him around so that his back was facing the bed, you pressed your lips to his and walked him backward til his legs hit the end of the bed. Aaron sat down, you dropped down, knees on the floor, looking up at him through your lashes, you began to palm his hard cock through his slacks, a low rumble sounding in his throat, you smiled at him, “Aaron your so handsome.” You murmured, “Especially like this.” You breathed, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks, bringing them down enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth always watered at the sight of Aaron’s cock, long and girthy, the tip red and angry, with a pearl of precum adorning it, you licked a long strip from base to tip, before taking his tip in your mouth, a sigh escaping from him as he tangled his hands in your mouth. “You always look so pretty, but your so gorgeous when you have my cock in your mouth.” You moaned around his cock at his praise, taking more of him in your mouth, you bobbed your head up and down, groans and sighs escaping his mouth at the feeling of you giving him head.

You loved riling him up by sucking his cock, the weight of his cock in your mouth never failed to get you wet, the heady taste never failing to make you so needy, you took a deep breath, before swallowing his cock to the base, a moan escaped his throat as his hand tightened in your hair. You pulled off of him, a string of saliva and precum the only thing connecting you to his cock, the string snapped and you wiped it as you stood up, straddling Aaron, bringing your lips to his desperately, your tongues clashing and spit slipping from the corners of your mouths, you grinded yourself against his hard cock, a gasp escaping you at the feeling of cock pressing against your clothed pussy, “Fuck Aaron, wanna ride you so bad.” You whined, circling your hips, he let out a breathy chuckle, “Is that what this is about baby? Wanna ride my cock?” You nodded, a whimper falling from your mouth as he grabbed your ass roughly. “Yea, wanna fuck myself on your cock baby.” You pulled your panties to the side, too desperate to completely pull them off, you moaned at the feeling of your bare pussy against his cock, you bucked your hips at the feeling, your head finding a place on his shoulder.

You heard a dark chuckle before you felt a hand tangling in your hair and pulling you upright, forcing you to stare at Aaron, “If your gonna ride my cock, your gonna fucking look at me while you do it, you can be a good girl and do that right?” You nodded vigorously, whimpering at the feeling of your hair being pulled, you lifted yourself, lining his cock up with your entrance, and dropping yourself down on his cock in one movement, a gasp fought its way out of your throat, you knew Aaron was big, and usually when he’s on top he fucks you so good, but the feeling of being on top and the fullness you felt was something you could have never imagined, you threw your head back, trying to regain your composure, Aaron littered kisses against your neck, “Breathe baby, eyes on me.” He murmured, encircling his arm around your waist, you took a deep breath, and looked at him, the sight of him under you was exactly what you wanted, heavy panting and lidded eyes, you clenched around his cock at just the sight of him looking so fucking sexy. He let out a growl, his thumb digging into your side at the feeling of you clenching around him.

You pressed your forehead to his, staring into his eyes as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down, moans coming from both of you as you began bouncing on his cock, “F-Fuck you look so pretty like this, all ruined over my cock.” He was panting, his hand on the small of your back guiding you to rock your hips back and forth, the action causing friction on your clit, you clenched around him once more, a wanton mewl slipping from you, you placed your hand on his chest, pushing him back til his back was on the bed, you continued rocking your hips against him, “Mmm, Aaron feels s’good, fuck your so big.” You were a mess on top of him, you had spent so much time thinking about how it would feel to be on top, and now that you had it, it was indescribable, you were in your own little world, relishing in the feeling of how deep Aaron was, Aaron planted his feet on the bed, thrusting up into you, a scream tore from your throat, instantly losing your balance and tumbling into his chest as he continued pounding into you from below, moans and cries of ecstasy falling from your lips.

“A-Ah Aaron, gonna cum!” Tears were trickling down from the pleasure he was giving you, you met his thrusts, bouncing up and down, chasing your high, your hand on his abdomen, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap, “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me hm? That’s what you wanted right? To cum while you were riding me? Go ahead baby” He murmured, holding off his release so you could let go first. A choked sob came from you when he brought his hand down to your clit, your orgasm washed over you, waves and waves of pleasure, your thighs trembled and you clenched tightly around him, the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly triggered his own orgasm, hot ropes of white cum staining your insides, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you both came down from your highs, Aaron let out a chuckle, “So this is what you got all pretty for? You wanted to ride me?” You hid your face in his neck, “It’s been on my mind since you left for the case, and it was frustrating me. Had to do something about it.” You mumbled.

He rubbed your back lovingly, “Cmon, let’s go shower and go eat dinner.” You laughed softly, “Oh now you care about dinner?” You smiled up at him, “I cared about dinner from the moment I got home, you just distracted me honey.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, he pulled out of you, you whined at the loss and grimaced at the feeling of his cum leaking out, he stood up, picking you up bridal style and taking you to shower, but to no surprise, he fucked you in the shower, saying something along the lines of ‘having to thank you for riding him’. Lying down in bed, thoroughly satisfied, you looked at him, a smile gracing his features, “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before leaning down and kissing you softly, “I love you too.” You said as you snuggled into him, basking in the post sex haze.

When Aaron went into the office the next morning looking well-rested and in a good mood, Morgan patted him on the back, “Had a good night last huh?” Morgan teased, smirk on his face, Aaron smirked back “A very good night indeed.”

[altsvu]

yall not i found an unfinished fic from 4 years ago… ima finish it post it 😏

[dailyflicks]

JONATHAN BAILEY as FIYERO

Wicked (2024) dir. Jon Chu

[altsvu]

ever since rewatching bridgerton i’ve been so obsessed with this man like hello???? 😩😩😩

[ssahotchnerr]

reader helping aaron relax and make out session in the hot tub!!!!!!

hot and heavy

😵‍💫❤️‍🔥🦋!!!! cw; fem!reader, established relationship, playful teasing, a lot of heated kissing, very suggestive content, partial nudity 🫢 wc; 1.2k nsfw - mdni

It didn't take long during your conversation with Aaron for it to become clear that the case he'd just finished had been awful.

You could hear the stress in his voice, the kind that only came from days filled with long hours, endless frustration, a sad ending. There was a tightness in his words, a strain that made it clear just how much he needed to let go and turn his brain off for a while.

And so, once you hung up, you quickly devised a plan to relieve some of those tensions upon his arrival home. Or rather, a nice surprise to return to.

You strategically selected his favorite robe of yours - a short silk one that nearly floated atop your skin - and a bathing suit that barely covered up what it was made to.

You were in the middle of tying up your hair when the familiar sounds of his arrival home echoed up the stairs and into your bedroom. He called out -

"Sweetheart?"

His gaze lifted at the sight of your approach, you having rushed downstairs to greet him. He was in the middle of getting settled when he caught sight of you and froze.

He was far from subtle, letting his gaze linger over you for a moment, breath catching in his throat. Hesitantly with transparent amusement, he asked, "What're you up to?"

"Heading for the hot tub," you answered nonchalantly, making your way to the door that led to the backyard. "Thought it'd do you good to relax. Go get changed, I'll meet you out there."

As if he needed any further persuading, you turned towards the door, cleverly dropping your robe and heading out. A clear indication you'd make it worth his while.

The message was well received. You felt his intense gaze follow your form, not leaving until you were completely out of view.

The steam was curling up at the surface, illuminated by the blue-toned lighting underneath. You got in, enjoying the instant warmth of the water enveloping you, the night air chilled in juxtaposition. You slouched a bit deeper, the water pooling atop your shoulders.

You weren't alone for long; you opened your eyes at the sound of the door sliding open, Aaron joining you in record time.

"C'mon, get in." You pushed your forearms back to lift yourself out of the tub, sitting on the edge with your feet remaining inside. You also indulged yourself, checking him out also. His torso, the veins protruding in his forearms, his muscles openly flexing as he moved about.

He gave you an almost offended look. "And you're getting out?"

"Just hush and listen to me," you ordered lightly, playfully glaring your eyes at him.

He obeyed, getting in. You gestured for him to come near; he sat with his back to you, situated between your legs.

After ensuring he was comfortable, you started working at his shoulders. Really pressing your fingers into his skin, kneading at the lingering tension. It immediately caused a groan to leave his parted lips.

"Feel good?"

He nodded, his head falling back in satisfaction, practically involuntary.

"God honey," you sighed, referencing the case, the one that had achingly kept him away from you for a week. Your eyebrows drew into a troubled line at his stiff muscles. "That bad?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, his eyes closed as he leaned back into your touch. "Amongst other things. Needed you."

You laughed softly, leaning forward to press your lips behind his ear. The touch lingered for a moment before you whispered, "Well, good thing I'm here now."

You continued to massage his shoulders, paying attention to the areas that held the most rigid of his knots. You worked slowly, easing the pressure with gentle, circular motions. You prolonged each squeeze, each touch, hoping it would relax him while simultaneously rile him up in all the right ways. Long intimate contact such as this, after not seeing each other, easily comparable to foreplay.

And it was working. After a minute or two, he turned around, eyes locking onto yours. You raised an eyebrow, biting down onto your lip to hide your smirk. The glint in your eyes, however, certainly noticeable.

Aaron reached for you, using one arm to pull you down and onto his lap. He shifted to the side of the tub, allowing his back to be against it this time.

You looked at him, questionably yet innocently, awaiting his next move.

"You want to help me relax, don't you?" His voice was low, eyes dark with a small smile tugging at his lips.

You hummed in confirmation, quickly tracing a finger along the stubble producing at his jaw, unshaven for a day or two. Brushing away a lone water droplet that had come from the bubbling surrounding the two of you, you added, "I'll do anything."

He leaned in and kissed you, hard. Although expected, a surprised squeak still left you. Your arms found home around his neck and you pressed your front firmly to his, ever so subtly grinding into him as you forced yourself closer. You needed to be as close as you could manage.

His lips moved against yours in practiced yet feverish ease, with both the equal amounts of gentle and rough. He held onto your waist tightly, his fingertips digging into your skin, forceful enough to leave an imprint.

Your hands were soon all over him. To the nape of his neck, back to his shoulders, his broad chest. Indulging in the way his toned, strong muscles felt. Aaron's breath picked up, heavy into your mouth.

You knew each and every one of Aaron's scars. Location, how they felt, size. Your fingertips landed on a newfound, raised line, alerting you out from the haze you had entered.

"This is new," you stated against his lips, pulling away with a swollen pair of your own. Despite the darkness, you could see the red scrape, identifying its freshness. Panting, you manage to say, "It got physical?"

"It's fine. Nothing really. Something we can worry about later." He readjusted you on his lap, against the ongoing currents - again driving you further into him as his lips transferred to your neck.

His plan was to switch the topic, and he was doing a fantastic job. You turned to putty within a second, especially when his lips traveled down to your chest.

Your head fell back to give him more space to work, he sucked bruises into your skin. He took his time, wanting them to be as distinguished and dark as they could - you were his.

You frantically clutched his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. There was no feeling like kissing Aaron. It was exhilarating. You had to remind yourself you were grounded and not floating amongst the clouds.

Desperate sounds were leaving the back of Aaron's throat, hard under you, and they were driving you wild. Your body was practically shaking with need, and an uncomfortable layer of sweat was building on your skin. Hot from both the temperature of the tub and from the heated exchange. You obviously chose to ignore it.

His fingers expertly found the string holding your top, fumbling a moment before tugging it loose.

"Aaron," you laughed with a touch of warning in your voice, peering over your shoulders as your top dipped. No need to give the neighbors a show if you could help it.

"What?" He chuckled darkly, his breath fanning hot. He pried the wet top off you, discarding it onto the floor as your hands dove underneath the water to his waistband. "No one can see. Besides, we have high fences for a reason."

[altsvu]

still here… just kinda fearful about everything…

[gold-onthe-inside]

hamelin

who? spencer reid (s6/7) x mayor!reader summary: spencer's the first person you think to call when the kidnapper attacks your home. content warnings: animal gore, kissing (no smut) word count: 3.5k (a lot of stuff goes down, okay) a/n: part two to diplomat, ending is open ended (i couldn't decide what happens next and this fic is long enough already)

It’s late when you get back home from city hall, briefings from that day and agendas for tomorrow tucked under your arm and fumbling for your keys and finally unlocking your front door. You moved to switch the light on, dumping your folder and keys on the top of a cabinet and closed the door. There’s a relief that comes with closing the door, the version of you that is so carefully made up for the public eye shedding away.

You took off your heels, turning around to set them on the centre table in the lobby of the mayoral residence, when you let out a strangled scream — dozens of slain rats pooled in front of the staircase, your heart beating frenetically. Your heels clattered to the floor, shaky hands moving to call the first person that came to mind as you retreat back to your car, leaving your door open. Pick up, pick up, pick up—”

“Hello?”

“Someone’s broken in, there’s-there’s rats and blood everywhere,” you gush instantly, switching the cell phone between hands and tearing your car door open and slamming it behind you before locking yourself in.

"Can you stay where you are? I'm coming now- stay there-" he said, as he stood up abruptly, grabbing his coat and his satchel. "Prentiss-" He called out. "Can you come with me? I have to check on someone."

Meanwhile, you fumble quickly through your glove compartment, finding the handgun you carried, slotting the magazine in place and cocking it before sliding back in your seat, starting to wonder if you should’ve just called the chief of police instead. As the minutes tick by, you curse yourself for what you’ve done. You can imagine the questions that’ll get asked when this is over — why was he the first person you called? Why wasn’t the chief of police involved? More importantly, if you couldn’t keep yourself safe, how were you supposed to keep your city safe?

The tap on your window scares you, raising your gun into Spencer’s face at the shotgun window, and you let out a soft breath of relief, switching the safety on and releasing the magazine before putting it all back in your glove compartment. Agent Morgan stepped out of your house, along with Agent Hotchner, and as you get out of your car, Agent Prentiss holds the door open for you, closing it behind you.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you nodded, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

“I’ll be better once we find out who did this.” You looked back at your house, trying to ignore the sympathetic look Emily was giving you. You feel numb as Aaron explains the process to you, and you might as well be a child for all the power you wield — that forensics will need to take over the scene before they can do any actual profiling, that they need to do a cognitive interview.

“I'll need to speak with my office,” you manage to get out in as mature a voice as you can, considering. It's not like you haven't gotten death and assault threats before, what female politician didn't? But something about this felt different, it felt real.

Emily's grown up in your world, in the world of appearances and stiff backs and false smiles, so she convinces Aaron to take you back to city hall, let you get a handle on things before doing an interview.

Spencer watched you the entire time from the rear mirror of the car, the way you slipped into business mode on the drive to City Hall. It was all so foreign to him, the way you soldiered through this. He remembered a time when seeing a dead pigeon had made you tremble and he’d had to hold you in your arms and tell you everything was alright. It was a far cry from what he was seeing now, and for a moment, he even felt a slight disconnect.

He felt completely out of place from your life, watching you approve clothes for a press conference, your secretary directing hair and make-up to your office, listening to a speechwriter read out your statement for you and making amendments without a single tell that any of this was getting to you. At least, not until Mandy arrived.

“So, we’ll do the first one outside City Hall,” she began immediately, right behind you as you waved away the make-up artist, standing up to pay attention to your campaign manager. “Once the residence is cleared by the police, we’ll do a second one there. We also have a response prepared for a potential recall—”

“Recall?” you demanded, turning to look at Mandy. “We’re in the middle of the campaign.”

“They’re saying that public trust is gonna drop 13% by the end of tomorrow’s news cycle,” Mandy said, widening her arms helplessly. “Perry’s changed his entire campaign to be tougher on crime,” she said, looking at her clipboard, oblivious to the anxiety that was starting to overwhelm you as your hands fidget at your side — anxiety that Spencer was all too familiar with.

“Mandy, I think- I think she needs a minute-“ he spoke up, moving a little closer to you, but keeping his words gentle, not touching you. “I don’t think we need to overload her with all of this right now-“ his gaze flickered to yours, giving you an encouraging nod.

“We’ll deal with a potential recall after tonight’s conference,” you said, finding your centre of gravity in Spencer’s eyes. “I have a statement to revise.” Your speechwriter left the sheet on your desk with a sheepish smile before walking out, your stylists packing up to leave, and Mandy half-glaring at Spencer for obstructing her job twice now before leaving. The door clicked shut and you let out a breath of relief, sagging against your desk to pick up your cue cards while Spencer stepped forward, plucking them out of your hands. “Spence,” you protested but it melted under his look.

“You haven’t taken a minute to process what happened,” Spencer said, his voice gentle but insistent.

“I don’t have the time—”

“Then make the time,” Spencer said firmly, interrupting you swiftly and you pursed your lips at him. That hadn’t changed. “Your home was broken into and your floor was covered in dead rats, and you’re gonna go on like nothing happened?”

“This isn’t about me,” you replied patiently. “This is about the city needing to feel safe—”

“The city isn’t safe, and you telling them otherwise is… It’s patronising and it’s belittling their intelligence,” Spencer retorted and it was unfair because he was right.

“I can’t believe I’m taking political advice from a STEM major,” you muttered, moving to sit behind your desk and pull out a fresh sheet of paper.

“I can’t believe I’m giving it,” he pointed out, and he stepped around to the front of your desk, placing a hand atop yours, and sitting himself directly in front of you, forcing eye contact. “What do you need?” He looked at you, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Twenty minutes to write a new speech and a lot of coffee," you said.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and disappeared around the corner, reappearing a minute later with a pot of coffee and two mugs, and he poured one for you and one for him, setting it on the desk, just like old times. It was hard to concentrate with the smell of the coffee and Spencer’s cologne right in front of you, and you took a quick sip before setting the cup down and writing your speech.

You soldiered through your speech, putting on your best face, and Spencer pulled you away from Mandy who was trying to get you to take this threat of a recall seriously, setting you up in a secure hotel room instead. “You really don’t have to do this,” you said, sitting cross-legged by the foot of the bed as Spencer checked the windows were locked.

“We need to make sure you’re safe. If you go back home, there’s a stronger likelihood that he’ll come after you this time,” Spencer said, closing the curtains over the windows. “He’ll think you aren’t taking him seriously.”

“I don’t understand how he could just break in,” you said, rubbing your face tiredly, and Spencer pulled up a chair in front of you to sit down, face to face when you look up.

“Morgan and Rossi are looking into it, we’ll get you answers,” he assured you, pressing his hand to your knee and you sighed.

“What are the chances that this is connected to the missing kids?” you asked and Spencer frowned, retracting his hand.

“The working hypothesis was that a disgruntled parent might have done it, but leaving that many rats behind—” Just the mention of the creatures seemed to cause you pain, a wince crossing your expression at the memory of it. “—doesn’t seem plausible for just any parent to pull off. Was there anyone specifically angry at you?”

You chewed your bottom lip, shaking your head. “Not enough to do this. I was expecting getting tomatoes thrown at me or something.”

Spencer frowned. “Tomatoes is oddly specific,” he noted and you shrugged.

“I had these parents corner me after a council meeting, asking me why I was more focused on county fairs than looking for their kids,” you said, looking down at your hands and picking at your thumbnail. “I write policies and draft budgets. I can’t find a mass abductor, and people expect me to put more pressure on the police force as if they’re not doing everything they can. We can’t just close off an entire district forever. And the protocol says that after the first 24 hours…”

“For a regular child abduction,” Spencer told you. “This is different. He hijacked a school bus and abducted over 30 kids. It’s unprecedented, there’s no protocol for this.”

You swallowed before you looked at him, your expression cloudy and downcast. “I’m gonna lose my job,” you whispered, tears rimming your eyes and Spencer’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away like they had ten years ago.

“Hey, no, you’re not,” he insisted softly. “Noone’s done more for this city than you have.”

“Like that matters,” you muttered, wanting to cry some more but his hands were so warm and comforting that you just closed your eyes. “All Perry has to do is promise to deliver. I’m the one who has to actually do the work, and no matter what I do, I get criticized for it.”

“Well, then, they’re idiots,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. “You don’t wanna be a mayor of a town of idiots, do you?” he asked and you snorted gently, laughing as he shifted to sit next to you, and he felt you curl into him, so he rubs your arm, following his instincts.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmured into his chest, his woollen sweater vest warm against your cheek, your fingers playing with the hem of it.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your hair, his hand on your arm stilling. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Sap,” you muttered, making him smile a little, one you can feel as he presses his lips to your hair. “You could’ve called,” you murmured, still playing with his sweater.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to,” he replied quietly. “You were so mad that night.”

“Ten years ago,” you reminded him, pulling away to look at him. “You thought I was gonna be mad at you forever?”

Spencer looked at his hands, long spindly fingers meant to lace through yours. “I didn’t have any evidence to believe otherwise.” He looked at you with those glassy hazel eyes that made you melt. “I screwed up,” he murmured. “But I was so afraid you’d look at me like everyone else.”

“Spence,” you whispered, shifting closer, knee pressing against his thigh. “There is more to a person’s character than their reputation, or their qualifications.” You cupped his face the way you used to, his cheek slightly rougher than before, and the briefest thought flickered across your mind — does he still kiss like he used to? You swatted it away, focusing on the conversation at hand. “There is so much more to you than your PhD.”

“PhDs,” he corrected quietly, and you snorted quietly.

“You got more of them?”

“Math, engineering, chemistry.”

“Does that make you Dr. Dr. Dr. Reid?” you asked and Spencer shook his head, your hand dropping to his lap.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well, how else will people know you’re a multi-PhD holder?” you asked, teasing.

“Shut up,” he muttered, kissing you, his hands sweeping up to cup your face, holding your jaw like it belonged to him. You were wrong. He doesn’t kiss like he used to. Not tentative or hesitant, but confident and breath-stealing, each move precise and purposeful as he took pauses in just the right places to make you needier, smiling as you chased his lips greedily. His fingers threaded into your hair, like he still remembered how to drive you insane, still holding your face close to his as he pulled away for breath, feeling yours fan over his lips. “I wanted to do that all day,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

“I…” You had no words, opening your eyes to look at him, your head all cloudy and dazed and Spencer wanted to laugh, hands dropping to his lap. You, who had an argument for everything, the debate captain who always won, who had a retort armed at all times, had been struck speechless.

“Need a minute?” he asked, smirking and you wanted to hit him. You definitely wanted to kiss him. His smirk dropped as he saw concern flit across your face. “What is it?” he asked, starting to panic just a little. “Did I… No, I should’ve asked first—”

You shook your head. “No, well, I mean, yes, you could’ve asked first but that’s not…” You dropped your gaze, stopping yourself from taking his hand. “You’re leaving,” you said quietly and he frowned. “Once you find this guy… I won’t see you again,” you said matter-of-factly, blinking away the sting in your eyes.

“I… I can visit,” he offered lamely and you looked up, tilting your head at him.

“You won’t,” you said quietly. “And you shouldn’t. This part of your life ended ten years ago.”

“I don’t want it to,” he whispered.

“If your team hadn’t been called in to find these kids,” you asked softly, “would you have ever thought about me again?”

“Don’t say that,” Spencer insisted, taking your hand in his. I still love you, he thought. “We’re gonna find these kids, and this guy who’s harassing you, and… And we can figure this out too.”

Wishful thinking, you thought, but his hand felt so warm in yours, his heart on his sleeve, bleeding in front of you. You can’t dash his hopes, even though a part of you thinks he’ll be better off that way. “Okay,” you said instead, and his phone buzzed, forcing him to pull it out of his pocket and step away to answer Morgan. You can hear bits and pieces from Spencer’s side.

“Yeah, she’s with me… I already asked her, she doesn’t know… I can ask, yeah. If it is him, I’d rather stay here, make sure she’s safe… If there’s the slimmest chance that he comes here instead, I’m not taking the risk, Morgan.”

You rubbed your wrist, waiting for him to return. “Do you know a Perry Williams?” he asked, showing you a picture of the man, his voice on FBI mode and it creeped you out.

“Should I?” you asked, frowning.

“He used to be a pest controller, did work all over town, and he was at the school when it burned down four years ago,” Spencer said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Right around where your first term started.”

You shook your head, frowning, not remembering the name or the face. “No, I don’t. But one of my first acts as mayor was to award the firefighters at the school,” you said. “I… I can’t remember their names either.”

Spencer said nothing, calling someone else instead, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs. “Garcia, can you look into firefighters associated with the school fire?” he asked and you were starting to feel restless, watching him work instead. “Huh,” he said, his expression puzzled. You watched him put the phone away again and turn to you. “Apparently, the firefighter you awarded implied to the press that the reason the fire got so bad was because of Williams, saying that the pesticide chemicals made the fire worse. When Williams recovered from his burns, that firefighter became his first victim.”

“What?” you asked. “Wh-How?”

“You don’t want to know,” Spencer said and you stood up to face him.

“Don’t tell me what I want or what I can’t handle, just tell me the truth,” you retorted firmly and he let out a breath.

“He was beaten to death in his own home and then set on fire,” Spencer said, watching you process that.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“The records also said,” Spencer continued, slowly this time, measuring your reaction, “that he tried to get a meeting with you multiple times but he was denied.”

You stared at him. “So he kidnapped an entire schoolbus of kids?” you demanded. “Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

“It was multiple stressors piling on,” he said patiently. “He was recovering from his burns for the better part of a year, he lost his job, plus the separation from his wife, add that the city’s hero blames him for the fire, and the fact that he’s going unheard… so he did a drastic thing.”

“So now what?” you asked.

“The team’s checking his place, and any other locations he might go to, and hopefully, we’ll find him before morning.”

“Great,” you muttered, sitting back on the foot of the bed, hands grasping the edge, and Spencer knelt in front of you, placing a warm hand on your knee.

“We will find him,” he assured you. “Believe it or not, we’re very good at what we do.”

“Yeah, I know,” you murmured, tucking hair behind your ear, and looking down at him. A moment passed like that, just both of you looking at each other, different in so many ways, and in so many ways, still the same. Spencer wet his lips, getting up eventually.

“You should get some sleep,” he said and you frowned.

“Just me?”

“Well, I need to be up, in case anything changes,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Or maybe you just want an excuse to watch me sleep,” you retorted, making him blush.

“What? No, I-I don’t want— I mean, I don’t—” He’s cut off by your little laugh and his attempt at a scowl came out more as a pout as he moved to sit beside you. “You’re mean,” he mumbled and you laced your fingers into his, raising it to kiss his knuckles, then pressing your interlocked hands to your chest.

You can’t sleep and he’s not supposed to, so you end up curled into his side, hand in hand, while he tells you what the last ten years have been like — about being recruited and abandoned by Gideon, meeting Derek who would become arguably his best friend (you narrowed your eyes at that, a flare of jealousy that he kisses away, reminding you of your place in his heart), and stories about cases. By 2am, he’s telling you all about Riley and how his dad had helped cover up the murder of his killer, all to protect his mom from having witnessed it, and you’re hanging onto every word, until his phone buzzes with a text.

Derek: We got him. Kids are all accounted for. Tell your girl.

“They found the kids,” Spencer said first, knowing that would bring you more relief than just telling you that they found Williams. He’s right, too, noticing how your eyes close and you take a deep, calm breath.

“Thank God,” you murmured.

“They’ve got Williams in custody too. You could probably go home in the morning,” Spencer continued, watching you nod, the tight coil in your chest unravelling.

“And you?” you asked, looking up at him, memorising his face now.

“What about me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, noting the huff that leaves your nose.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Under normal circumstances? We make sure the PD and the DA have enough to prosecute. Sometimes they don’t have enough evidence, so we stick around for a confession, but otherwise, we leave when the jet’s available.”

You nodded stiffly, lips pressed together. “This isn’t normal circumstances, though,” Spencer continued and you glanced at him.

“It’s not?”

He looked at you with a kind of fondness that you’ve only ever associated with him. “Normal circumstances don’t include you.”

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No—loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron—your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive—asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg—Aaron Hotchner did not beg—but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad—shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical—anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary—I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break—even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths—match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up—it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice—his god forsaken voice—was like a jolt to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it—the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it—that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything—though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me—how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over—absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry—I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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[jonbutter]

reblog this to have a Happy Wildcat New Year™

[jonbutter]

not enough people reblogged this last year we gotta really try this time to have a Happy Wildcat New Year™

[bullet-prooflove]

3 things for Dean Archer because I feel like I’ve been neglecting him lately: necklace, champagne, snow

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @sweetdaytimedreams @cosmic-psychickitty @mrspeacem1nusone

Companion piece to:

Bang - Dean hears about the accident you had in the morgue.

Dean doesn’t believe in God, he hasn’t for a long time, not since his days in the military. He’s seen too much, done too much to put his faith in a deity that allows kids to get cancer and human beings to hurt each other the way that they do. The thing is you do, not directly, you believe in fate and the universe, something more than just people muddling their way through this life and Dean he finds that admirable, especially with all the death you see.

Which is why he bought the necklace, the silver St Luke pendant that hangs so predominantly around your throat as you sit in the window seat of his house, watching as the snow falls outside.

That accident you had the other day back in the morgue, it scared him, especially when he’s found out the finer details. You’d been lying there for thirty minutes, blood seeping out across the tiles from your head injury before anyone had found you. You were fortunate enough that it was nothing more than a concussion and a couple of stitches but the thought of what could have happened…

Well if a little divine intervention prevents something like that occurring again he’s willing to buy in, even if it’s not his thing.

“Champagne?” He says as he hands you the glass flute and you tilt your head up towards him, that radiant smile lighting up your features.

“You know when you invited me over to ring in the New Year, I thought you were having a party.” You tell him as he takes up residence in the window seat beside you.

“Are you disappointed?” He questions, his voice a little gruff because he hates the idea of letting you down, of not meeting your expectations.

“No.” You say softly as you lean in close, your mouth brushing lightly over his. “I couldn’t think of a better way to start the year than here like this with you.”

Love Dean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[altsvu]

happy new year everyone! thank you to everyone on here who has supported me all 2024 although i was rarely posting fics, it means so so much! this year, i definitely want to focus more on this page and i want to take you all with me 🫶🏽

- gaga

[joeyclaire]

i fucking love tumblr on new years i scroll past a glittertext gif wishing me a happy 2002 i scroll past my mutual wishing me a happy 2018 i scroll past a gifset wishing me a happy 2013 i scroll p

[scribbleshark]

happy 1915 everyone!

[inkdrinkerworld]

comfort

pairing: dbf!hotch x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

cw: smut, dbf!hotch, period sex, fluff to smut to fluff, mention of cramps, 18+ONLY, MDNI

You should’ve known your dad would send him over. You really should’ve with the relationship you have with them both.

Your father hated leaving you alone, and when you’d gotten your period that morning and told him you were in a lot of pain, you really should’ve expected Aaron to be coming over when he was finished with work.

You had transformed the living room to a sort of blanket fort, old disney movies playing on the tv as you laid in your fluffiest pyjamas under the heavy duvet.

“Angel,” Aaron calls and you tip your head back, brows pulled quizzically.

“Did dad send you? ‘Cause I told him I’d be fine.”

Aaron toes his shoes off and drapes his jacket over the back of the sofa.

“He did say to come check on you, said you’d been having bad cramps.”

You’d known Aaron long enough that this kind of talk didn’t bother you, plus you were a grown woman, period talk no longer seemed as uncomfortable as it did when you were younger.

“I was, got my hot water bottle though, and chocolate.” you show Aaron the half finished block of chocolate, he laughs at how little remains.

“Good, I’m staying the night.” he admits and you smile wide and then temper it.

“You’re as bad as he is, I’m a big girl.” it’s teasing enough that Aaron rolls his eyes and hums.

You’d said the same thing a week ago when Aaron had been gone and you’d made yourself come on the phone with him.

If your dad knew that, he wouldn’t be too keen on sending Aaron to check up on you- but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Are you? You’re sat watching Sleeping Beauty.” you hide your face in your covers and Aaron chuckles. He pulls your shoulders so you’re laying in his lap, Aaron’s hands rubbing through your hair as the movie plays on.

About halfway through, your water bottle ran cold and your cramps were almost demonic in their pressure.

There wasn’t much Aaron could do, but he tried to get your mind off the pain.

“Want me to refill it?” he asks softly, feeling your tears hit his dress pants.

“Please, I really can’t move.” he’s no stranger to how debilitating they’d gotten as you’d aged, Aaron remembers a couple months back when he’d carried you to the hospital because the pain seemed never to cease.

When he came back, you were putting on another movie, wiping your tears and sniffling.

“Here,” you took the bottle with a grateful smile, setting it on your stomach with a pleased sigh.

Aaron had meant to bring up another solution, a solution you’d both tried a couple times when you were alone like this.

He just wasn’t sure if you were up to it and despite how much it had helped, Aaron wouldn’t bring it up when you hadn’t even hinted.

You’d been thinking of it though, your mind running to how Aaron had helped you last month when your cramps had been awful and overwhelming.

You were halfway through Cinderella when Aaron had undone his shirt and patted your head, “I’m gonna go shower angel, I’ll be twenty minutes.”

“No,” you mumble, holding his hand making him pause. “Not yet. I want to try the thing,” you admit and sit up.

“Sweetheart,” you crawl into his lap then and Aaron sighs, holding you close to his chest. “What thing?”

Maybe it was a little mean to make you say it when Aaron knew what you wanted.

But he’d always been just that little bit mean enough to make your belly churn with excitement every time.

You rock your hips into his, groaning softly at the friction.

“Can we do what we did last time?” you ask and Aaron tilts your chin upwards, eyes peering into yours.

“You sure?” he needs you to be, as much as there’s attraction between the two of you, Aaron sometimes needs the reassurance that this, with him, is what you want.

It always will be, if you’re honest with yourself.

“Mhm, please Aaron.” he keeps you in his arms are he bounds the stairs to your bedroom, reaching for your towel and laying it on the bed before setting you atop it.

“You have to be patient.” he instructs gently, brushing your hair from your face before going to get the bin from your bathroom.

“They’re starting to hurt again,” you whine, and Aaron feels horribly about it, but he needs you to be comfortable above all else when this starts.

He sets a bottle of castor oil and peppermint oil on your bedside table before standing before you again.

“I’m gonna make it better okay, sunshine?” you nod, lifting your hips to help Aaron drag your shorts off along with your underwear.

“It’s gonna pinch a little remember?” He spreads your legs and finds your clit to distract you.

“Please Aaron,” you beg and he lines up with your entrance, pushing in slowly as he rubs at your clit, watching with pride as your body leans into his touch. “So good.”

Aaron moved slow, his body hovering over yours as he pushed into you, dragging pleasure from your body easily.

His lips kiss at your cheeks, jaw and temple, soft sweet words whispered into your skin.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” you cry, hands clawing at Aaron’s back as he focuses on rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Aaron, Aaron.”

His name is a pretty chant along with soft swears and cries of pleasure.

When you do come, Aaron stills, letting you soak his cock, groaning when your cunt becomes impossibly tighter around him.

“God, baby, you’re gonna make me come in you.” he whispers, hips snapping into yours once more. There’s something to tell of his precision and care even while he chases his own release.

“Please Aaron, I want it,” you do, you want it terribly. Your hands cup his cheeks as he spears into you, his pelvis brushing your clit with each thrust making you whine and squeal.

“Please come in me,” you beg, leaning upwards to lick at Aaron’s mouth, teeth nibbling on his lip, dragging his bottom lip into your mouth. “Please fill me up.”

Aaron’s hips buck and he claims your lips with a harsh, “Fuck you’re so good to me.”

He fills you up, and rubs your clit just a little to pull another orgasm from you because he could.

His nose nudges along your cheek as you both come down from your highs.

“Better?” he asks, large palms stroking at your cheek and jaw.

“So much,” you groan as he pulls out of you, using the towel to clean you up a little before helping you sit up. “Thank you.”

You lean in for a kiss that Aaron is more than happy to grant, hand leading your jaw as he deepens the kiss.

“You’re more than welcome, sunshine,” Aaron speaks the words to your lips and then pulls away, “Ready to shower now?”

Aaron is gentle as he showers with you, not letting you lift a finger to help him as he opts for your lavender shower gel rather than your usual oat and honey scent.

“C’mon angel, now isn’t time to be shy.” he says as you try to discreetly get your pad on.

“Shush,” you say, your hair hiding your cheeks as you bite your lip.

Aaron laughs at how whiny your voice sounds.

“Can we go back down? I want to finish Cinderella, and I wanna watch Anastasia after.”

Aaron chuckles as he slips into his forgotten pair of boxers from your last weekend together.

“Of course, we can order something to eat too. And maybe that giant chocolate chip cookie thing.”

You put on another pair of fluffy pyjamas and when you reach for your hair, Aaron lowers your hands and reach for the strands himself.

“Maybe?” you tip your chin backward and give Aaron a sad pout.

“Stop that,” he mutters, knowing he’d be purchasing the stupid chocolate chip cookie because of that look.

You laugh when his hands comb through your hair and braid it back rather than elaborating.

“I wonder what dad will think if he finds you here in just your underwear.” Aaron pinches at your ass as you walk in front of him.

“Nothing, cause he won’t see. Plus, I only care what you think,” he pulls you into his lap when you sit on the sofa again, the duvet covering you both soon after.

“And I know you love me in as little clothes as possible.” his words are whispered into that spot below your ear making you shiver.

“I should’ve played harder to get,” you joke but Aaron doesn’t find you funny in the slightest.

His teeth sink into your neck, “Brat,” he mumbles and you giggle. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

[angelusfangs]

Anyone else feel like their mutuals are way out of their league? Like they follow you back and you’re just like

[altsvu]

t- minus 13 hrs until the new year… so much to do…