#cm(-5)

[le-immorte]

C// Instagram // Redbubble- Prints //

[poorly-written-poetry]

[misserabella]

biiiig mean stretch!

spencer reid x fem! reader

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, THIS IS FILTHY. NAAAAASTY, you’ve been warned. mean harsh dom! spencer and bratty sub! reader, nasty make outs, spanking, hair pulling, cursing, degradation and praise (not quite towards you), use of good girl (again, not towards you), dirty talking, oral sex (s! receiving), face fucking, edging, gagging, facial, multiple orgasms and rounds implied, teasing, begging, hickeys, choking, spencer being a little bit of a pervert, piv sex, using cum as lube, unprotected sex (guys don’t do this), scratching, pussy talking, breeding kink, creampie, squirting, slapping, spitting, spencer has crazy stamina…

from this request.

@cherriesinthespring & @brattyspence 💋

you were actually exhausted. whole body aching, the last thing you needed was to talk to him, but as always, there he was. your asshole of a flatmate. with his stupid glasses on as his amber eyes strolled through the pages of his book miles per hour.

“well, look who it is. past midnight. seems like cinderella by how fucked up you look.”

you rolled your eyes at the smirk on his tone, kicking off your heels. “fuck off reid, i’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

your relationship had been strained from the start… you two were like oil and water. always had been, since the two of you were five and had the sufficient conscience to choose if you liked each other or not. and believe me, if you had had another choice… you wouldn’t have even taken up the offer to live with him. but your mother, diana’s best friend, as soon as she had learnt that you had been given a promotion and needed to move to quantico? had told the blonde, who excitedly told her that spencer was looking for a flatmate. that sealed your destiny. and now there you were. sharing space with the person you loathed most in the entire world.

“hell, okay, you’re not fucked up at all, ‘cause getting some dick wouldn’t have left you like that.”

you groaned, your head throbbing, full body tense. “well at least i get to fuck, not like you, you only get off to letters on paper.”

and he dared to chuckle, fucking chuckle. he closed his book and put it aside, tall frame leaving its seat at the sofa to slowly stroll over you.

“well isn’t your vocabulary a delight?” he crooked his head. “now why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you all bothered, princess. ‘cause i’m sure my incredible presence cannot be it.” he said sarcastically, but he seemed intrigued to know what had happened. “hard day at work? did starbucks ran out of caramel drizzle? or is your rose toy dead?”

“you little…” your hands were reaching for his throat, but he was faster, his tongue clicking as his strong long fingers surrounded your wrists, stopping you centimeters away from his warm skin.

“really, doll? trying to choke an fbi agent? such a bad girl…” you gasped as he pinned you against the wall. “you could get in a lot of trouble for that. maybe i should use my cuffs on you. or maybe not, i’m sure you’d end up enjoying it.” he muttered that last part against your ear, your cheeks reddish in both anger and embarrassment.

“fuck you.” you spat, and he chuckled, dark and teasingly against the skin if your neck. you were not done. he wanted to play dirty? two could do that. “and what do you say about extortion of people by your power, huh? an fbi agent trying to make me kneel under him for his status? i could easily get you fired. you should be ashamed, reid… but… it seems like you are more like… excited, huh?” and with a roll of your hips against him you confirm what you had suspected: he was hard. rock hard at that.

he smirked at you, ignoring your jab as he leaned over you. “are you threatening me?” he muttered against your lips, his tongue wetting his bottom one.

your eyes followed the movement, and your throat dried up. you squinted at him. “are you?”

“you know… all this brattiness of yours is really getting on my nerves.”

“really? by how hard you are… i would believe you’re enjoying it.” you muttered back. your breaths were mingling. there was heat pooling down on your lower stomach. and the tension exuding from your bodies could be cut with a knife.

“you need to learn to keep your mouth shut.” he growled, eyes dangerous.

“but wouldn’t you like it wide open…, reid?”

you could feel the moment he said “fuck it”, his brown eyes now completely pitch black. “yeah? then open the fuck up.”

and next thing you knew? his tongue was deep into your mouth, which had willingly fallen open for him. the two of you groaned, and the tight hold he had on your wrists turned bruising. it was as if he hated the idea that he desired you so much. maybe he did. maybe you did. but right now the only thing you could focus on was on his hard cock pushing against your belly, and how soaked your panties felt stuck against your throbbing clit. when had you gotten so wet?

a moan left you as his plush lips surrounded your tongue and sucked, a hum leaving his chest when he then moved to your neck, sucking some more on the skin there.

“i think i ought to teach you a lesson, don’t you?” you whined as he bit down on your pulse point. “answer me.” a choked gasp left your lips when one of his hands, the one that wasn’t holding now both your wrists up, came down harsh against the side of your thigh on a smack.

“yes.”

“that’s what i thought.” he purred, and your eyes almost rolled back at the sound of his deep voice. “on your knees.” he ordered as he let go of you, and busied his now free hands on unbuttoning his slacks. you got lost for a minute there as you caught sight of the wet patch decorating his boxers, but he was quick to get you back on page. your eyes widened when his hand took harshly your face. “do i need to repeat myself?” he hissed and you shook your head. “then. get. on. your. fucking. knees.” you complied, knees on the hardwood floor, puppy eyes staring right onto his. “that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it? let’s hope you suck cock better than you follow orders.”

your pussy fluttered. fuck. why was this turning you on so much?

“show me that tongue.” you stuck it out to him. pink. salivating. ready. he hummed and pushed down his boxers and pants down his thighs. your eyes widened at the sight of his thick cock. “let’s keep that dirty mouth of yours busy, yeah?” and before you could even react, you were gagging around him. it hurt. your lips were fully stretched around him, and your jaw was about to give up by the uncomfortable stuffiness. but god… it felt so good… he tasted so good… reid groaned, fingers winding into your hair and tugging as his hips snapped and his cock hit down your throat. “fuck. so that mouth is actually good for something, huh?”

your eyes couldn’t help but water, your nails scratching at his thighs as he didn’t even give you a chance to adjust before starting to fuck your face. you couldn’t help but moan, eyes rolling as the air in your lungs thinned. he was literally fucking you dumb. and you couldn’t love it more.

“such a fucking slut. look at you. you act harsh but as soon as a dick is shoved into your throat you start to act like a good girl, hm?“ you whined, thighs squeezing against the other, throat swallowing around him and making him grunt. “jesus, you’re tight. wonder how your pussy will be. probably will have to stretch it open first, break it in since you haven’t brought anyone home to fuck since you moved in, huh?” he chuckled. “the walls are thin, you know? you think i don’t hear you pumping your fingers into your little cunt every night? poor thing. you’re so desperate for cock you would take anyone’s, huh? even mine. but, actually… i’m starting to believe it’s the one you’ve been wanting the most, isn’t it?” you whimpered. “hm? what’d you think about while fucking your pussy, doll? did you think about me listening to you? that the reason why you’d moan louder? for me to hear? wanted me to come into your room and show you what a good orgasm is supposed to feel like?” you nodded, too lost to actually try and hide how the idea of him listening to you masturbating just a few doors away made you squirt all over your sheets. he chuckled. low. mockingly. “of course you did.” he pushed down your throat even harder. “all that time acting as though you hated me and you just liked me, huh?” you gasped and coughed as he pulled out of your mouth, smacking his wet leaking cock against your flushed cheek.

“i hate you.” you swore and his eyes glinted.

“yeah? well, for someone who hates me, you really love sucking my cock.” he chuckled when, while gliding his tip along your bottom lip, your mouth subconsciously opened. “you want it?”

you kept silent. what could you say? you couldn’t say no. that would be a lie. but you also couldn’t say yes, that’d would make it too easy for him. but before you could catch yourself you were…

“please.”

begging.

his smile was that of the cheshire cat. “atta girl.” you moaned when he fed it back to you, pumping it down your throat over and over again. you relished on the musky scent, on the tuffs of hair of his base kissing your nose, on his tip making you gag over and over again until you became so messy and sloppy that trails of spit dribbled down past your lips and chin onto your thighs. “thaaaat’s it. so messy. can’t help but want to…” and then you’re gasping as hot spurts of cum hit your face, making you even more messier. spencer moans as he strokes every last drop out of his breeding tightening balls. “fuck. look at you. so pretty like this…” your mouth stays open for the dripping of it, the salty release hitting your tongue and making you hum.

when you open your eyes, your cunt throbs. he looks gone. wild in pleasure. and starving.

“get up.” your legs shake and you almost trip by how fast you complied. “i’m not done with you yet.”

not even 10 seconds go by before you’re being thrown onto his bed —his bedroom being the nearest one of the two—, and another 10 is what it takes him to get you bare before his eyes. his eyes appreciatively took the sight of your heaving chest and rosy nipples in, the smoothness of your tummy, the plush of your thighs…

he pumps his still rock hard cock. how does he manage to have that much stamina? it hadn’t even gone down —not in the slightest— after making a mess of your face with his cum.

“it’s not gonna-” you try and say, but his words cut you off quickly enough.

“mouth shut. eyes on me. legs open. i’ll make it fit. even if i have to break apart your pussy for it.” you swallow, and god, if you hadn’t you’d have died of embarrassment by the whimper that tried to leave your throat.

you open your legs for him. pussy lips spread, soaking wet just for him, hole twitching in need of being fucked and clit puffy and sensitive pleading to be touched.

“knew she’d be pretty…” he groans, licking at his lips, hand tightening around his dick. his fingers come to your sticky cheek and gathers ropes of his cum, and before you could inquire him about it, he’s stuffing them into your needy little cunt. “jesus, she’s tight. can’t wait to break her open…” your eyes roll as he sinks them to the knuckle and curls up up up until he hits that spongy spot that makes you sing the prettiest moans late at night when you know he can hear you.

“spencer…!” you whimper, your legs falling further apart, hips twitching for more.

“that’s it. open up for me.” he smirked, pushing a third finger inside that has you choking on a scream, walks tightening down hard around his digits he grunts. “trynna milk me so soon, baby? i haven’t even put it in.”

he fucks you open with harsh strokes, but he’s diligent, he makes sure you’re slicked up and ready, loose enough for his puffy head.

but when he aligns it up with your entrance, his jaw ticks. “it’s gonna be a tight fit. now, say ‘biiiiig stretch’ for me, mh?”

“biiiig—ngh!!!!” you can’t even comply, not when he’s basically splitting you in half. your nails dig on his back as he pants and tries to fit in past the first ring of muscles.

“jesus.fuck.” with a ‘pop!’ his tip presses in, and you two moan in unison. your lungs feel like you’re on fire, and your eyes sting. but fuck if it doesn’t feel good being so full. “good girl…” he praises. and at first you think it’s directed towards you. but no. his thumb sweetly circles your clit and you cry. “taking me so good… you’re doing so good for me… now, open a little bit more for me, hm?”

he’s talking. to your pussy.

but it’s not “little” how much it has to open to accommodate him. every fucking inch is devastating. and by the time his balls hit your ass, his tip —if it could be possible— would have breached your cervix and fucked itself into your womb.

he falls onto you the moment you clench, and groans against your neck. “if only i had known you’d feel this good… i would have fucked you much sooner.” he then looks at your dizzy eyes and faded face. you’re half brain dead on his cock. he can’t help but chuckle. “so this was the fastest way to make you behave and shut up, huh? good to know.” he slaps at your cheek, and you blink, breathing ragged and heavy, his hips grinding deep against your cervix, making you whimper. “don’t you dare tap out on me. i haven’t had my way with you yet.”

and then he’s fucking you. reeeeeally fucking you.

your back arches, your nails draw blood down his back, and your cunt gushes in lewd wet sounds that resonate around his room by how hard and deep he plunges into you.

“fuck. so good… best pussy i’ve ever had. made for me, aren’t you, gorgeous?” he murmurs, and you are so lost… he’s mean. his hands are rough as they grip your hips in a way you know will bruise, and his cock is so harshly fucking you open that you believe he’ll leave the imprint of himself permanently molded to your walls.

you can feel every vein, every ridge.

“spencer, spencer, spencer…!” you cry and he chuckles in between grunts.

“so now it’s ‘spencer’, huh? what happened to ‘reid’? you’re so happy to get dicked down that you’re calling me by my name now?” one of his hands surrounds your neck, and when it tightens… your pussy does as well. “fuck! and here i thought you couldn’t get tighter…”your legs cage him, making your back arch and his dick reach deeper in places no one ever had. “needy little girl… feels good, huh?” you moan, mouth open and he takes the chance to spit on it. and when you quickly and obediently swallow what he gives you? he speeds up. “fucking slut. you love this, don’t you? love the fact that i’m breaking you apart. fuck. you even let me go in raw, bet you’ll even let me breed you if i wanted, huh?” your cunt flutters and his head hangs for a second as a strangled moan leaves him. just for a moment there, he almost lost control and busted. “you want it, honey? want my cum deep into this pretty little womb of yours?” you moan and he lets go of your neck to slap your cheek again, softly, but harsh enough to make your clit twitch. “answer me.”

“yes, yes, plea-“

“not you.” he grunts, going harsher, deeper, faster. “i’m not talking to you. i’m talking to her.” your breath leaves your lungs once two of his fingers meet your puffy clit, rolling it, pinching it. your pussy squelches. and he hums. “yeah? you want it that much?” another squeeeelch!, you’re dripping down to his sheets. “then take it, pretty. it’s all yours.” and you scream, ‘cause the way in which you’re coming when his thick warm ropes of cum fill you is insane. it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. your ears ring, your vision darkens at the corners, your brain seems to melt, and your pussy squirts in little unstopping spurts that soak his cock, balls, sheets… your juices are everywhere, and fuck if it doesn’t make spencer come even harder…

by the time his balls are drained and his hips halt, his cock up to the base inside you to keep you plugged in with his cum, you’re basically passed out, eyes crossed as you try to focus back onto the present. you can’t even remember your name. fuck, you can’t even remember how to breath.

and your legs shake like crazy when in a flip he’s got you on all fours —well not all, since one of his hands has your face smudged against one of his pillows—. “again.” he says, breathless as he pushes in his still hard cock into your abused and stuffed cunt. “show me how you squirt again. i wanna see it again.”

you were not getting out of this alive.

[22marie16]

His Hoodie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x femaleBAU!reader 

A/N: Cooked this up rq so it probably sucks, but I hope you enjoy it! Please like, repost, and follow if you’d like to see more like this! 

Word count: 1.2k 

Warnings: Not an ounce of proof-reading, Mentions of killers and wounds (not much), fluff 

Summary: Hard launching to the team by accident. You wear his hoodie on the jet plane back after an exhausting mission, and everyone notices. 

After a long case that managed to drag out for an entire week, the team was finally returning to their home, Quantico. The case of a serial killer targeting teenage girls. A 15-year-old girl was kidnapped, and the team raced against the clock to find her.

It was a hard case for you; you saw yourself in her. She was involved in the same things you were in high school. She was a good kid who went through a lot, and you knew all what that was like. 

You barely slept the whole case, constantly brewing new coffee to stay awake. If you did get any sleep, it was because you slipped into consciousness while working in the police station. 

You’d eventually wake up on the office couch with a blanket draped over you. You obviously knew exactly who was taking care of you, but for the sake of HR and your job, you had to feign ignorance. 

No one could know about you and Reid. 

You loved him, you truly did. He was everything a woman could ask for. Between his nerdy facts and his cute face, you were down horrifically. 

No matter how much you loved him, you knew that as a female agent, you would never receive respect if you were dating a male coworker. People would assume you slept your way into your position. They would overlook the countless hours and dedication you put into your job. 

You weren’t willing to sacrifice that, so you and Reid came to a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret.

It was hard, but it was important. You couldn’t risk your relationship distracting you or getting in the way of your job. 

Eventually, after grueling 16-hour days working to find her, Penelope managed to find where he was hiding her. The girl narrowly survived, with deep gashes and cuts from the killer's relentless torture. 

You knew this case would haunt you. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have nightmares about the worst ones. They wouldn’t go away, but after time they became manageable. The insomnia wasn’t so bad anyway; you actually managed to get stuff done during the night. 

The times when you were able to fall asleep were few and far between. 

Hotch noticed— hell, the whole team did— but the BAU isn’t exactly known for its compliance. There wasn’t anything they could do except encourage you to sleep. You wouldn’t listen; it’s not like you could control the nightmares, they just came to you. 

Soon enough, the team was boarding the jet and setting off for home. 

One by one, the team shoved their bags underneath the plane into the storage compartment. Morgan, ever the gentleman, usually took the women’s bags for them and tossed them along with the others. 

Each member boarded the plane, walking up the steep steps of the plane stairs. Inside, Hotch looked around. 

“Where’s Y/n?”

The team really hadn’t noticed you were missing. Not because they didn’t care, but because they were so exhausted they could barely keep their eyes open. 

Except Reid, of course. He was extremely aware you weren’t on the plane, but he feared that if he was the only one to bring up your disappearance, it would look suspicious. He knew Hotch would notice eventually, so he stayed quiet. 

The team glanced around the room, looking for you before deciding you were absent from the plane. 

“Huh.. That’s unusual. She’s always early”, Morgan stated. He reached into his back pocket where his phone rested, pressing each number until he was ready to dial your cell phone. 

Just as he was pressing the last number, the stairs thumped frantically. 

Hotch grabbed his gun on his belt, not drawing it, but ready in the case of an emergency. 

But it wasn’t an emergency; it was you. Your hair was a mess, and your makeup from yesterday smudged on your face. You wore fluffy pajama pants, slippers, and a large oversized drawstring hoodie. 

The team glanced over you. You looked horrid, but that wasn’t what they were concerned with. They weren’t looking at your slippers, or your bright pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, or even your extremely messy hair.  They were focused on your hoodie, the one they were all too familiar with. It didn’t belong to you. It belonged to Dr.Spencer Reid. 

Emily’s mouth dropped open, immediately panning to Spencer, who wore a pink blush on his face, before turning to JJ and Morgan, who were both looking at each other already. Hotch and Rossi glanced at each other, with a smile on Rossi’s face while Hotch wore his same old stone-cold face. 

You were confused as to why JJ, Emily, and Morgan were giggling. Even more so, why Rossi was smiling at your appearance. You knew you looked a mess, but you didn’t look that bad. 

JJ turned back to face Rossi, “So how many weeks is it?” 

“10 weeks,” He replied, still wearing his smile. 

“Dammit,” Morgan and Emily said in unison while reaching into their pockets for their wallets. 

“I really thought I had this one,” Morgan muttered while pulling out a crisp $100 bill and handing it back to Rossi, Emily doing the same. 

You looked at the scene in front of you in utter confusion. 

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” you awkwardly laughed, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Uhm.. It appears you’re still wearing my hoodie… and now the team knows. It also seems that they’ve made bets on how long it took us to slip up and reveal ourselves. I actually considered the possibility that this would happen, but it seemed quite slim. I should’ve known, considering it depended on an extremely large number of variables”, he rambled, blush remaining on his face. 

“Oh”, you said, walking slowly and finally slumping into a seat with a loud thump. 

After a minute, the giggles quieted down, and the team started picking their seats. 

As Emily passed you, she whispered in your ear, “Congratulations, you’ll tell the girls all the details later at girls' night, right? I want to know everything.” She giggled as she walked away. 

You knew she was joking, but your face went red, and you buried your face in your hands. 

Spencer took his seat next to you, pulling out a book as he began telling you facts about the author. 

“For as profound as Dostoevsky is, he actually only wrote to pay off his financial debts. He suffered from a gambling addiction. In fact, he wrote it in only twenty-six days, which is only five days slower than Jack Kerouac wrote when working on ‘On the Road’.”He rambled on about Dostoevsky. 

It obviously wasn’t his first time reading Crime and Punishment, but it was one of his favorites, and he often re-read it for enjoyment. He had an eidetic memory, so re-reading them wasn’t really necessary, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. 

Hotch watched the two of you. Studying how you interacted and how you treated him. Reid was like his son, and he cared deeply about how he was treated, even if Hotch sometimes failed to treat him right. 

When Reid eventually quieted down and became focused on his reading, Hotch looked at you from across the table. 

“Just make sure to report it to HR”, He stated. It was the most approval you would ever get out of Hotch without him saying it directly. 

So maybe dating a federal agent wouldn’t turn out to be so detrimental to your career. 

You leaned on Reid’s shoulder as he read. Snuggled in his hoodie and resting on him, you managed to fall asleep. 

Safe to say, that was the best sleep you had in over a month. 

A/N: Please like, repost, or follow if you liked this and want to see more!! My requests are always open! <3

[morguesiren]

── THREE INCIDENTS ❤︎

❤︎ pairing: spencer x gf!reader

❤︎ summary: three different incidents that revealed to spencer’s team that he has a girlfriend.

❤︎ warnings / tags: fluff!

❤︎ author's note: i got a new tattoo on my wrist yesterday so it’s been a bit more difficult to write but i had this in my drafts!! hope you like it sweetiepies <3

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST ❤︎

incident number one - the mystery of the baked goods.

"where did they come from?" emily asked with furrowed brows, her head cocked to the side. "i have no idea..." morgan mumbled in response. "did you ask garcia if she brought them?"

"brought what?" garcia walked into the kitchen area, a wide smile on her face until she saw what was on the table, "oh."

"baby, did you bring those?" morgan asked, making the blonde shake her head, "no idea where they came from." "why's everyone gathered around-" jj's sentence was interrupted once she spotted the same thing garcia had. "do you think they're poisoned?" garcia whispered.

"what's going on, guys?" spencer came into the kitchen area with a smile on his lips, but unlike everyone else, he ignored what they were looking at, making a beeline towards the coffee maker, pouring some into his cup. "cupcakes." garcia responded.

spencer turned to face them with a slightly amused expression on his face, looking between the box of cupcakes to his team, "what about them?" he asked, lifting the coffee cup to his lips, "they just appeared there." emily said, making spencer let out a breath of a laugh, "no they didn't. i brought them."

"you? what'd you bring cupcakes for, kid?" morgan asked, "did i forget someone's birthday?" "no." spencer shrugged, "i brought them just because. if you guys don't want them i can—" "nope, we'll take them." morgan interrupted, grabbing a cupcake, the rest following suit.

that evening, spencer got to his apartment, recognizing the sound of debussy's rêverie playing on the record player and the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. he took off his satchel and placing it in its usual spot. when he made his way into the kitchen, he saw you standing at the stove, a wooden spatula in your hand. spencer leaned his head on the doorway, a small smile as he watched you.

when you finally noticed spencer, a wide smile overtook your face, "hey there, stranger. how was work?" "tiring." he smiled, taking slow steps towards you. spencer wrapped his arms around your middle and pressing himself close to you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. "how was your day?"

"it was good." spencer mumbled, pressing a kiss against your neck that made you shiver. "they liked the cupcakes you made." "they did?" you smiled, "they did." "maybe i'll start baking more often."

and so... the BAU break room started having homemade baked goods every week. and every time, spencer said that he was the one who brought them.

incident number two - the mystery of the TARDIS mug.

spencer was seated at his desk, going over paperwork yet occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall as if willing it to move. spencer picked up his cup, taking a long sip of coffee, only to hear a loud gasp come from next to him.

when he lowered his cup, he saw garcia staring at it with wide eyes, "oh. my. god." she exclaimed, "where did you get that?"

spencer looked at the cup in his hand, a slight fond smile on his lips as he was brought back to the moment you gave him the TARDIS-shaped mug, the man beaming at you before lurching forward and pressing his lips on yours.

"oh, it was a gift." spencer smiled softly, "i don't know where it's from, but i'll ask her and i'll let you know."

penelope's smile quirked up at his response, "her?"

spencer cleared his throat, turning back to the paperwork and pretending to focus on it again, "it was from a friend." he replied quietly, but garcia still walked away with a grin on her lips.

incident number three - the mystery of the go-bag.

spencer had an eidetic memory, which made it nearly impossible for him to forget anything.

but that morning, his alarm clock had malfunctioned, and he was running late, and somehow... he had forgotten to take his go bag with him after having taken it to home to wash it.

hotch had said that they'd be leaving in thirty minutes, but it'd take spencer about forty-three minutes just to get to his apartment, and another to get back, and he couldn't possibly ask the team to stand back... he heard the ding! of the elevator, but the man ignored it. maybe he could call you and ask you to-

his train of thought was interrupted by someone clearing their throat, and when he looked up, spencer's eyes widened in surprise to see you standing in front of him, holding up his go-bag with your eyebrows raised and a slightly teasing smile. "you forgot something."

spencer rose to his feet, making his way over to you, completely unaware of the looks the two of you were receiving, "thank you, i just realized i didn't have it with me." your boyfriend said with an appreciative smile, "you also left your phone home." you chuckled softly, cocking your head to the side and holding out his phone, the man taking it and slipping it into his satchel, "thank you for bringing me these. i'll call you later, alright?"

"alright." you pressed a kiss too spencer's cheek, "love you."

"love you too." spencer replied, waving at you as you took a couple steps backwards, before turning around and walking to the elevator. he watched as you pressed the button, turning to look at him one more time and waving at him before getting onto the elevator.

"you have some explaining to do, pretty boy." morgan grinned, pressing his hand on spencer's shoulder, making the man's cheeks start to turn red.

[felinefractious]

🐱 British Shorthair

📸 Chinnawong Kittphan [Mini Cougar]

🎨 Lilac Caramel

[laceyluvver]

we really shouldn’t

summary: you were having such a great night, your fake id worked, and you had a man lined up for the night. but then, your dads friend who is a fed, and definitely knows you’re not 21 turns up.

warnings: mdni, 18+!!!, AGE GAP! (READER IS OVER 20 and hotch is like 35!!), PIV, oral (f rec), reader has a smart mouth, aarons buttons are pushed, dad’s best friend! 

an: sorry i disappeared, i’ve been really ill with covid ! this is really self indulgent #needmeamunch. PLEASE REBLOG!!! likes don’t help the algorithm:( (but also like pls) 

wc: 3.8k

Friday night was the best night of the whole week. Friday night meant that class was over, no more nine am classes with drowsy old professors. But most of all, Friday night meant the DC streets were filled to the brim, not just students like on the Wednesday nights, Friday night meant busy. And busy meant getting into anywhere with a dodgy ID.

“Why are we going to this bar?” Your friend whines, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing up and down her triceps.

“Because, I know a bartender who will let Sarah Shipman into the bar.” You roll your eyes and flick your ID back and forth.

The line shuffled forward slowly, your boots scraping against the gravel pavement. It was colder than you’d anticipated, goosebumps pulling up on your thighs under your dress.

“ID’s please ladies.” The bouncer holds his hand out expectantly. Your friend hands hers over and he nods. You do the same with yours, shining his torch on it. His eyes flick from the picture to you, he opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“Is James working tonight, James Green?” You sputter out, biting your lip and rocking back on your heels and batting your eyelashes at the bouncer.

“Yeah, you know him?” The bouncer scrunches his brow.

“Mhm.” You hum. “He told us to come along tonight, could you grab him?” You bite your lip, and he nods, spinning on his foot and disappearing into the bar.

The bouncer yanks the door back open, James lingering behind him. “Hi.” Lifting your hand to waist height you give him a small wave.

“They’re all good, I know her.” He nods, and opens the door wider, letting you in under his arm. Coming up behind you he wraps an arm around your shoulder, leaning into your ear. “You’re going to get me in trouble.” He whispers and you can’t help the light giggle that escapes your lips.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You bite your lip and hop up into the bar stool. “First round on you?”

He closes the hatch on the other side of the bar, and sighs. “First round on me. What can I get you?” He grabs two glasses and places them down.

“Double vodka coke.” Your friend chimes in, flashing him a smile.

“Double vodka orange, please.” Pouring the shots and the mixers into the glasses, he slides them over the bar and you pull the straw into your mouth.

“I’ll find you on my break.” He winks, stepping away to go and serve another customer on the other side of the bar.

Pulling your friend away from the bar and over to the booths, each of you slide into opposite sides and you see her shake her head at you.

“What?” You question, sipping on your drink.

“He’s like… thirty.” She raised her eyebrows at you expectantly.

“Thirty five.” You mutter into your straw, glancing over to the bar where James is there shaking a cocktail.

“Thirty five!” She exclaims, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Girl, you have a problem.” She laughs and slaps your arm across the table.

“A problem that got us free drinks.” You smile widely, leaning back into the booth. “It’s started to get busy now.”

The dance floor had started to fill up, the music thumping and vibrating in your ears and chest. A couple more doubles later, you were feeling the buzz in the tips of your fingers and toes.

“Do you want to go dance!” She shouts from across the table, shuffling out of the booth and holding out of her hand.

“Yeah, let me chug my drink.” You shout back, gulping down the rest of your drink and placing your hand in hers.

Dancing in the bar was one of your favourite pastimes, coupled with the buzz of a hefty amount of alcohol, a great song and good company, it was unbeatable.

The unmissable thump of the beat, the press of strangers all around you as you raise your hands above your head and your friend wraps hers around your neck.

“Can you get us another drink?” She shouts closer into your ear, nodding you snake your way out of the crowd of tightly packed bodies.

Waiting in the line for the bar you tap your foot on the wooden floor impatiently. You scan the rest of the people cramming the bar. The back of a sleek, black suit catches your eye and the broad shoulders that stretches the material. Long legs, expensive shoes, cropped dark hair. Exactly what you liked.

Ordering your drinks, you keep glancing over, his back still turned. “Thank you!” You mouth to the bartender and glance over your shoulder one more time, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, and extra hoping it lived up to his ass.

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. Fortunately, the face very much did live up to the ass. Unfortunately, it just happened to be your dad’s newest golf buddy, one you were told to not mess around with and, one that was a fed who happened to definitely know you weren’t twenty one.

His eyebrows furrow as the two of you make eye contact, you can almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Giving him a tight lipped smile and a nod, you duck away into the crowd, disappearing from his eyeline.

“We’re fucked.” You shout into your friends ear, her having found a guy from your criminology class.

“What? Why?” She shouts back, her hand gripping onto his bicep.

“My dad’s friend is here, he’s a fed.” You wrap your lips around your straw and chug half of your drink.

“Ok correction. You’re fucked, i’m of age.” She smiles at you and you roll your eyes.

Then, your phone buzzes in your small bag, pulling it out you see a message from James lighting up the screen.

‘I’m in the smoking area.’

“Are you going to go?” She asks, widening her eyes at you and flicking them down to the phone screen.

“Do you want me to go?” You smirk at her and look at the guy from your criminology class, now moving to put an arm around her.

She nods, and you step away. Before your back even turned the pair started to make out, pushing through the packed crowd.

You’re not as cold outside this time, the vodka you had warming you from inside. It was much quieter out there, however you could still hear the music clearly, fading in and out when the doors opened and closed.

“Hey!” James calls from a bench, cigarette in his hands, he waves you over and pats the seat next to him.

Sitting on the top of the table, feet on the seat you smile down at him. “Hey.” You hold out a hand for the cigarette.

“No.” He laughs, shaking his head back and forth, taking a drag for himself and a swig out of a beer bottle. “I’m not giving you another bad habit.”

“Aww, that’s cute.” You patronise, bending down to his eye level, “So you’ll let me into a bar, serve me drinks underage, and fuck me. But you won’t give me a puff of a cig?” You whisper in his ear, and you’re sure you’ve shocked him into silence. Taking it from his fingers, you bring it to your lips and take a drag.

“That’s what I thought.” You flash your teeth at him, leaning back and you feel his hand snake around your ankle.

“You’re going to get me into trouble.” He says with a snort.

“Yes, she is.” You didn’t know where he had come from, but now he was stood over the two of you at the bench. “Especially because she’s underage.”

“Hello Aaron.” You roll your eyes at him, and you feel James’ hand slip off of your ankle and back to his side.

“What are you doing at a bar.” He states, face stone cold, keeping a close eye on the man next to you.

“I’m not in a bar, I’m sat outside of one. That’s not illegal.” You smirk at him and blow some cigarette smoke in his general direction.

“I saw you inside.” He glares at you. Your eyes scan his body, his suit is expertly pressed, you wonder if he put it on especially for the bar. His black shoes have no scuffs, tie in a tight and precise windsor knot.

“I was never inside of the bar, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shrug, leaving an elbow on your knees and then your face in the same hand.

His questioning turns to James, pulling out his badge and flashing it. You groan at his dramatics. “How do you know her?”

“We’re friends.”

“Didn’t look very friendly from where I was standing.” His eyes narrow and you glare with the same intensity back.

“So when a man and a woman love each other very much.” You send a fake pout his way and you can tell you’re starting to push his buttons.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” He asks you, his jaw clenched tight, a hand now coming to rest on his hip.

“What do you think?” The sarcasm drips from your lips and you blow more smoke in his direction, hoping he would clear off.

“Don’t.” His tone is a warning, a warning you were going to ignore.

“My breaks over.” James mutters, clambering out from the bench and giving a nod in your direction before he disappears through the bar door.

“You’re a prick.” You’re sure you growl at him, and blow more smoke in his face, he brings a hand up to waft it away. The grey smoke twists and turns in the air and disperses as his hand cuts through it.

“I said, don’t.” He repeats, his frustration growing, eyebrows pulling together even more.

“Or what?” You do it again. He moves quickly. His hand comes up to your lips and snatches it from your mouth, putting it out under his perfectly shiny shoes. “Hey!”

He takes a swig from the beer bottle in his hand and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s illegal.”

“What are you going to do Agent? Arrest me?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, he rolls his eyes.

You lean back on your hands, giving you a great angle to look up to him. You feel the bottom of your dress climb up your bare thighs with you leaning back. You make no effort to pull it down.

“He’s too old for you, he’s what 35?” He scoffs, shaking his head, “Go out with a nice boy your own age.”

“What if I don’t want a nice boy my age? What if I want a man?” You were shamelessly flirting now, your father’s words damned. Aaron Hotchner was a tall glass of cool water that you desperately wanted a sip of.

“That’s enough i’m taking you home.” He grabs the top of your forearm, yanking you upwards. “And before you say anything, i’ve had half a beer.”

His hand grips tightly onto your wrist, pulling you away from the bar and down the street to where his very sleek sports car was parked. “Get in.”

His thick arm holds open the door and you climb into the seat and buckle your seatbelt. You cross your arms across your chest with a huff.

“Take me to my apartment, not my dad’s house.” You instruct him.

“I have every right to take you to your dad and tell you you’re underage drinking and sleeping with men almost twice your age.” He glances over at you and you scoff.

“So what do you think he will think when I turn up to the house with another man double my age?” You smirk, and lean back in the seats, the expensive leather touching your skin.

“I’m his friend, he knows I wouldn’t.” He clenches his jaw so hard you think his teeth might crack.

“So why did he tell me to stay away from you?”

This takes him off guard and he looks at you in light shock, spit catching in the back of his mouth, causing him to clear his throat.

“My apartment it is then.” You smile, happy to have got your way. Crossing one leg over the other, your dress rides up again, exposing the soft skin on the tops of your thighs.

He sits in a glowering silence, glaring at the slate grey road in front of him. Knuckles turning white from his hard grip on the steering wheel. His foot pressing down on the pedal hard, halting the car to a full stop.

“Get out.” He orders, tone rough.

You comply, walking around the front of the car, giving him a full view of you, adjusting the deep v neck of your dress. Waggling your fingers at him, an attempt at a wave, you make your way to the front door to the foyer of your apartment.

A hand pushes the door open from above your head and he lets you walk in before him.

“What are you doing?” You ask, flicking your hair over your shoulder.

“Making sure you get to your apartment ok.” He stands next to you as the elevator doors drag open, the silver box is empty.

“I’m not even drunk anymore, you’re so overprotective.” You scoff, striding into the elevator and pressing the button for floor 5.

Leaning against the wall of the elevator, you absentmindedly look at your nails, scraping at the cuticle and pretending to not feel the firey hot glare that was burning a hole through your head. You swore that the elevator was purposely going at the slowest it could, making the ride as gruelling as possible. There was only so long you could stare at your nails.

Finally, the doors separated and you strode to your apartment door, hearing the shoes thumping along behind you. His silence was deafening. Your keys jangle and it slides into the lock. You could feel the breath on the back of your neck.

Stepping in through your apartment door, you spin on your foot and lean the door against your hip, leaving him with not even a glance into your apartment.

“Thanks for the ride.” Smiling at him, you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, yanking at it with your teeth.

“Go to bed.” He grunts, walking away down the corridor and back to the elevator.

“You know it’s a shame.” You start and you watch his step falter but he keeps walking away. “I was looking forward to being fucked by you.”

Not looking for his reaction you close the front door, and pull your dress over your head. You hoped he liked black lace. Glancing down at your watch, the seconds tick by.

A loud knock echoes through your apartment, you decide to make him wait. Sitting on the arm of your couch, still observing your watch face. Another knock comes, this one faster. Deciding to stop the torture, you pull the door open.

Before you can get another snarky comment from between your lips, large hands wrap around your waist and pull you up around his body. Pushing you against the door, his lips meet yours.

You grasp onto his shoulders and kiss him back with a hot intensity that makes him groan into your mouth, and his teeth to pull on your bottom lip. This pulls a moan from your throat and your head to thump back against the door. This leaves the column of your neck exposed, and his lips attach to them, kissing at the base of your jaw. Then to the middle of your throat, sucking shallowly and nipping at the skin leaving a trail of red marks.

“You’re-Lucky-Your-Dad-Is-A-Dick.” He says in between kisses, making his way back up to your lips and planting a rough kiss to punctuate his last word. “Bedroom?” He asks and you point to the door just past the kitchen.

He doesn’t put you down, and carries you across the apartment and opening your bedroom door and laying you gently on your bed.

“You usually wear things like that underneath your dresses?” He asks, eyes dragging down your body, and shrugging off his blazer and laying it in the chair in your room. A hand pulls up and undoes the knot and throws it with his blazer.

“Yeah, jealous?” You smirk, leaning back on your elbows just as you did at the bench earlier, parting your legs slightly.

The first couple buttons on his shirt are pulled open now, and he crawls up the length of your bed. You can see his chest hair, his fingers drag up the length of your leg, hand coming to rest on your hip. “I could still arrest you for underage drinking you know, don’t get snarky.” His deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whine crawl from your chest when he bit down on your earlobe.

“Going to handcuff me, Agent.” You bite your lip and pull the insides of your eyebrows together.

He groans and slides his hands up to your lace bra, the texture soft as anything under his fingers. “Another time.” He mumbles, and kisses down your stomach. Coming to a stop at your hips, he bites into your flesh and slides the matching panties down your legs and throws them with his blazer and tie.

He presses kisses to the inside of your thighs, hands snaking under them and gripping them apart. Again, he bites into your skin, leaving a row of pink teeth marks. “Can I?”

“God, yes.” You nod feverishly, looking down at his floppy deep black hair falling over his forehead as his lips attach to your clit and pulling it into his mouth. “Oh fuck!” You cry out and your back arches off the mattress and your hands dart down to the said floppy hair and gripping on to it to ground yourself.

He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, flicking his tongue lightly making your toes to curl downwards and the octave of your voice to peak upwards.

“Aaron!” He’s gripping you to his face as he devours you like he might die if he doesn’t get a taste.

Your hands come to grip your floral sheets between your fingers, pulling it up and your thighs clenching around his head. A finger slides up and in between your folds and nudges into your entrance as his mouth still works furiously on your clit and pumps his finger in and out.

“Ah!” A string of moans fly from you, and you’re sure you’re suffocating him in between your legs. You glance down and you see his deep brown eyes looking up at your undoing. And that is enough to push you over the edge and your thighs tremble and you call out his name and your eyes roll back into your head and your head falls back into the pillow.

Opening your eyes, he’s hovering above your head and pops his finger into his mouth, sucking off your juices.

“Take your pants off.” You pant, reaching down and try to fumble with the button, but your arms are still weak from the orgasm that was still clouding your vision.

He pulls them off himself, then his shirt and they join the ever growing pile of clothes on your chair. As he does that, you reach into your bedside table and pull out a condom and pass it over to him.

You almost drool as you see him pull it over his cock, it was big. It looked heavy and like a great time.

“Hurry up and fuck me.” You say in a desperate whisper, pulling him on top of you, tilting your hips upwards.

“Why should I? All you’ve done is be a brat.” He slides the head of his cock along you, resting it at your entrance and leaving it there.

“Please,” You whine, your hands snaking up to his shoulders and digging your nails in gently, “I need it.”

After what feels like an eternity of teasing, the head brushing against your clit making you jolt, his cock slides in and fills you to the brim. “Mmm” You hum as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

“God, you’re tight.” He groans, and you roll him onto his back, attaching your lips to his as you bounce up and down on his length and groaning onto each other’s mouths.

The tip of his cock bucks the spongy part inside of you that makes you cry out so loud you knew your neighbour’s would leave a note on the door in the morning. “Oh, Aaron!”

His hands wrap around your ass for leverage as he plants his feet flat onto the mattress and starts to pound up into you. You swear you can feel your brain melt out of your skull.

You could feel every inch of him as he pumps in and out, driving you crazy and your nails drag down his chest and stroking the soft hair on his chest.

He was letting out moans himself, whispering your name into your ear and groaning deeply into the back of his throat. His thrusts get more frantic as you get closer to the edge again, clamping around him like a vice and kissing him again, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

Your thighs start to shake again, and the short punctual thrusts brush your g-spot just enough to shove you over that delicious edge. Tightening around him you rest your forehead against his as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm small whines pushed out at every thrust, as he releases into the condom himself.

You flop down next to him on the opposite side of your bed. “Jesus.” You sigh, stretching your legs out and arms above your head.

He pulls the condom off, tying it off at the top and placing it in the bin in the corner of the room and he joins you under the sheets, still bare.

“We’re so dead.” You giggle and your head rests on his shoulder, fiddling with his chest hair.

“Worth it.” He smiles at you for the first time, it’s a rare sight that you know you’ll cherish. “Good thing I don’t like your Dad that much.” Now his smile is cheeky and you laugh again.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “So can I say we will be doing this again?” Looking up at him expectantly, you can’t help the nervous feeling in your stomach.

“Oh, I don’t think I can live without this now.”

-

part two is here!!

an/ hello!! am back! sorry i went missing, but i will be writing a lot more now! please reblog! <3 love ya.

[sincerelybubbles]

When Spencer gets home, you’re asleep, arms and legs splayed across the bed. He knows you do it on purpose so he has to move you out of the way, waking you up in the process. The sight of your hand gripping the fabric of his side of the sheets makes him smile and laugh softly to himself as he passes by to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take him long to freshen up, washing his face and changing into soft pants before rejoining you in the room. He watches you for a moment, cataloguing how you breathe in deep sleep as if he’s ever going to forget. He’s never been afraid of not remembering something before, always so reliant on his memory, but your presence in his life has him grasping onto every moment, so scared of the thought that he might loose this.

He scoops his hand across your arm, cupping your shoulder to wake you gently. You’re smiling before your eyes open. When they do, blinking softly and heavily, you meet his face with a certain familiarity that makes him sigh.

“Hi angel,” he whispers, leaning over to readjust you with ease. You’re pliant in your sleepy state, humming a greeting. He’s got you piled into his arms in a matter of seconds, slipping under the warm covers and brushing his lips over your forehead. “Go back to bed, I’m home.”

The reassurance is all you need to slip your eyes closed again, fingers grasping at his waistband and keeping him pressed to you. He’s not going anywhere, not anytime soon, but the adamant way you clutch to him makes him feel so fond that he can hardly contain himself.

As you drift off, you say his name, so soft and sweet. He cups your cheek at the sound, holding you for a moment before pressing his lips to your forehead and shutting his eyes.