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The Mental Support Hammer

This was a request thing I don't know what you call it but I love the idea and its for my bae @emma-e-a

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary:Fem!gf!reader has really bad period cramps and is at bf!Spencer’s house, and needs her support hammer!

The late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of Spencer's living room, casting a warm glow over the couch where you lay curled up in a tight ball. The world outside felt distant, almost irrelevant, as the relentless pain of your period cramps pulsed through your abdomen.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Spencer asked, his voice laced with concern as he reached over to stroke your hair. His touch was gentle, but you could still feel the tension building in your body.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, though you knew it was a lie. You felt a wave of discomfort wash over you, and a small whimper escaped your lips.

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he took in your curled-up position. “You don’t look okay,” he said softly, his dark eyes searching yours. “What can I do to help?”

You sighed, trying to muster a smile despite the discomfort. “Can you drive me home tonight?”

“Sure, but why? You have a whole collection of cozy blankets and snacks here,” he offered, glancing around his meticulously organized living room.

You shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “I need my mental support hammer,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer blinked at you, completely perplexed. “What the—? You have a mental support hammer?”

You chuckled weakly, despite the pain. “Yes! It’s a hammer I use for pressure on my stomach. I put a pink bow on it, and it helps with the cramps.”

He stared at you for a moment, mouth agape, processing this new piece of information. “A hammer with a bow?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s a thing!” you insisted, your eyes narrowing playfully.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get you that hammer,” he said, smiling softly as he stood up and offered you his hand. “Let’s go.”

The drive to your apartment was quiet, with Spencer glancing over at you occasionally, his concern evident. You leaned your head against the window, watching the trees blur past, trying to distract yourself from the discomfort.

When you finally arrived at your place, you shuffled inside, grateful for the familiar surroundings. “Just give me a second,” you said, darting to your room and retrieving the infamous hammer.

It was a simple tool, pink with a fluffy bow tied around the handle. It had been a gag gift from your best friend during a particularly rough period, but you quickly found it surprisingly effective.

You returned to the living room, cradling the hammer in your arms like a treasured possession. “Tada!” you announced, holding it up proudly.

Spencer burst into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is a real thing. How did I not know about this?”

“It’s my secret weapon against cramps,” you replied, giggling at his reaction. “Now, can we cuddle? Please?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice gentle. He settled onto the couch, pulling you against him. You nestled into his side, feeling the warmth radiate from him as you positioned the hammer against your abdomen, applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Does it really work?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his tone.

“It does! The pressure helps ease the pain,” you explained, closing your eyes in relief as you snuggled closer to him.

He looked down at you, curiosity written all over his face. “Can I ask how exactly you came up with this idea?”

You chuckled softly. “I don’t know, it just… worked one day. I was desperate, and I figured a little pressure couldn’t hurt. I just started calling it my mental support hammer because it sounded funny.”

“I can’t believe it’s real,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know, stress can actually make cramps worse. It’s interesting how you found a way to cope with it.”

You smiled up at him, glad he was trying to keep the mood light. “You’re like a walking encyclopedia, you know that?”

“Just trying to be supportive,” he replied, his voice playful. “Did you know that cramps are caused by the uterus contracting? It’s all about the prostaglandins—”

“Spencer,” you interrupted, laughing softly. “I appreciate the facts, but right now, I just want to cuddle.”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Okay, no more facts. Just cuddles.”

As you sank into him, the warmth of his body and the pressure of the hammer brought you comfort. It felt safe, and you could almost forget about the pain.

After a moment of peaceful silence, Spencer spoke again, “So, do you have any other mental support tools I should know about?”

You chuckled, looking up at him. “Just you, Reid. Just you.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he gave you a soft smile. “I’m honored to be your emotional support boyfriend,” he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth.

As you both settled into the comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support. This was a moment you would cherish, a memory of laughter and comfort, shared between the two of you.

TAGLIST:

@emma-e-a

In the Details, S.R

Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive but no smut

Warning(s): Suggestive, reader has a hand kink!

(same)

You sat at the conference table in the BAU, surrounded by the team as they discussed the latest case. Your eyes wandered, tracing the lines on the case file in front of you, but soon, your attention drifted to Spencer Reid, who was deep in thought, absently twirling a pen between his fingers.

It was something about the way his fingers moved, the delicate yet purposeful way he handled the pen, that made your heart race. The veins on his hands were pronounced, a testament to the way he always seemed to be in motion. You found yourself blushing as you imagined his hands on your skin, the thought sending a rush of heat through you.

“Hey, are you okay?” you heard Spencer call your name, breaking you out of your reverie. You looked up to see him watching you, concern etched on his face.

“Uh, yeah! Just, um, lost in thought,” you stammered, desperately trying to mask your flustered state.

As the meeting continued, you tried to keep your attention on the discussion, but your eyes kept drifting back to Spencer’s hands. They were long and slender, the way his fingers curled around the pen making your heart race all over again. You could almost envision what it would feel like for him to brush those fingers against your skin, and the thought made you blush deeper.

“Seriously, are you sure you’re alright?” you heard Spencer ask again, his brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you replied a bit too quickly, earning a few curious glances from the team, particularly from JJ and Penelope, who exchanged knowing looks.

After the meeting, as you left the conference room, you overheard JJ and Penelope whispering to each other.

“Something’s up with her. Have you noticed how she’s been acting?” JJ asked, glancing in your direction.

“Totally. She was practically glowing when Reid was talking. It’s like she’s got a crush or something,” Penelope replied with a teasing grin.

You felt your cheeks burn hotter as you hurried away, hoping they wouldn’t say anything else. You hadn’t realized that Spencer was still in the room, and he caught snippets of their conversation as he gathered his things.

“Looks like someone’s got it bad,” he murmured to himself, a smile creeping onto his face.

Later that evening, you were in the break room, pouring yourself a cup of coffee when Spencer walked in, holding a file. He leaned against the counter, his hands casually resting beside him. You couldn’t help but notice the way the light caught the veins on his hands, making your heart race once more.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he began, breaking the silence. “You’ve been acting a bit… unusual today.”

“Unusual? Me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto his lips. “Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I know you have a hand kink.”

You nearly dropped your coffee cup. “What? No! That’s ridiculous!” You tried to sound indignant, but you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

He stepped closer, crossing his arms and leaning in slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. “You’ve been blushing every time you look at them. It’s kind of cute.”

You swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close he was. “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you stuttered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“Come on,” he pressed, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I saw how you reacted in the meeting when I was writing. You couldn’t take your eyes off my hands.”

Your heart raced as he continued to approach, the teasing tone in his voice sending butterflies swirling in your stomach. “Okay, fine! Maybe I have a little thing for your hands. Happy now?” you admitted, throwing your hands up in mock defeat.

Spencer’s expression softened, and he chuckled. “I figured it out a while ago. Just didn’t want to call you out on it.”

You felt a rush of relief mixed with embarrassment. “Well, you didn’t have to make it so obvious!”

“Maybe I just wanted to see how flustered I could make you,” he said with a wink, holding out his hand. “Care to examine them up close?”

Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, then took his hand gently, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,” you replied, a teasing smile spreading across your face.

As you held his hand, the playful banter shifted into something deeper, the air thick with unspoken tension. You felt a spark between you, the chemistry that had been building finally breaking free.

“Now you know my secret,” Spencer said softly, his gaze locked onto yours. “And I know yours.”

With a nervous laugh, you squeezed his hand gently, a newfound confidence blooming within you. “Guess we’ll have to see where this goes, won’t we?”

“Definitely,” he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice as he leaned closer.

And in that moment, you knew things were about to change.

TAGLIST:

@emma-e-a

The Confession. S.R

Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): Just two idiots in love!

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow through the large windows of the BAU conference room. After a long week of profiling and chasing leads, the team had finally wrapped up a challenging case. The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of relief and camaraderie, laughter ringing through the air.

You glanced over at Spencer, who was sitting at the table, his fingers tapping thoughtfully against his laptop. His brow furrowed in concentration, and you couldn’t help but admire how focused he looked. There was something incredibly endearing about him, and it had been hard to ignore the flutter in your chest whenever he smiled your way.

As the last of the team filtered out, you found yourself lingering. “Hey, Spence, do you want to grab some coffee? We could use a break.”

He looked up, his eyes lighting up at the suggestion. “That sounds great! I could use a caffeine boost.”

Just as you both stood up, Derek strolled by, catching the two of you in your little bubble. He raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, look who’s heading out together. Coffee date, huh?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a shade of pink. “It’s just coffee, Derek.”

“Uh-huh,” Derek replied, leaning against the doorframe. “Sure it is. The two of you have been exchanging those... meaningful looks all week. It’s adorable.”

“Right?” JJ chimed in as she passed by, a teasing smile on her face. “I thought you two were going to confess your feelings right here in the conference room!”

You shot Derek and JJ a playful glare, your cheeks warming. “It’s not like that!”

Morgan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Are you sure about that? Because I’ve seen the way you look at him. You’ve got it bad.”

Spencer fidgeted, trying to appear nonchalant. “We’re just friends,” he said, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“Friends who definitely look like they’re about to confess their undying love for each other,” Derek teased, winking at you. “I’ll be here all week, folks.”

You crossed your arms, glaring playfully at Derek. “Can you not make this any more awkward?”

“Too late for that!” Derek replied, grinning widely.

As you and Spencer made your way to the café, you could feel your heart racing. “I can’t believe they said that,” he muttered, still flushed. “Derek really knows how to make things awkward.”

“It’s Derek’s specialty,” you replied, shaking your head with a smile. “But you know he’s just teasing because he cares.”

As you entered the small café, the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods welcomed you. You ordered your drinks and found a quiet corner table, the soft murmur of conversation around you creating a cozy ambiance.

After a particularly funny story about a misadventure on a case, you both laughed, the sound echoing in the small space. The laughter faded, leaving a comfortable silence filled with unspoken feelings. You could see it in his eyes—the warmth, the connection that had been building for so long.

You thought back to the dreams you’d had about him—soft moments shared under starry skies, whispered secrets and laughter. Those dreams felt so real, and you had longed for something similar in reality.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer said suddenly, his voice low and hesitant.

“Of course,” you replied, your heart racing.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that made him even more endearing. “Do you ever think about… us? I mean, outside of work?”

Your heart soared. You had thought about it more times than you could count, but hearing him say it out loud sent a thrill through you. “All the time.”

His gaze met yours, and you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. “Really? I thought it was just me being… well, me.” He looked down, shyly avoiding your gaze.

“No, Spencer. It’s not just you,” you confessed, leaning forward slightly. “I’ve liked you for a long time. You make me laugh, and you’re so kind. It’s hard not to feel something more. I even have dreams about you.”

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, and his cheeks flushed even deeper. “Dreams? About me?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “Sweet ones. They always leave me feeling... hopeful.”

He stared at you, surprise slowly melting into a warm smile. “I feel the same way. I’ve been scared to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Your heart raced. “So, what do we do now?”

Spencer shifted closer, his expression earnest but still tinged with shyness. “I think we take a chance. We owe it to ourselves to see where this goes.”

With a smile spreading across your face, you nodded. “I’d like that.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of warmth through you. You both sat there, the tension between you now transformed into a sweet anticipation.

“Can I… can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his eyes making your heart swell.

“Please,” you replied, your heart racing with excitement.

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours softly at first, testing the waters. But as you responded, deepening the kiss, it became clear that this was a moment you both had been waiting for. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, as the world around you faded away.

Just as you pulled back, breathless and smiling, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Well, look at this! The lovebirds finally got their act together!” Derek called out, a wide grin plastered on his face as he entered the café, flanked by JJ and Penelope.

You felt your face heat up again, and Spencer buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed.

“Derek!” you protested, trying to suppress a giggle.

“Just making sure you two are okay!” he said, hands up in mock innocence. “I’m just glad I can finally say I told you so.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” Spencer muttered, his cheeks still pink.

You turned back to him, unable to help your smile. “Don’t mind them. I think I like this new side of us.”

As the teasing continued, you felt a sense of joy welling up inside you. You knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together—one filled with laughter, love, and all the little moments that made life extraordinary.

A Night for Secrets, S.R

Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): Suggestive, talk about lingerie

The rain drummed gently against the window of your cozy apartment, creating a soothing backdrop as you flipped through the pages of a well-worn novel. You’d invited Spencer over for a quiet evening, knowing how hard he worked. His bright eyes often held the weight of the world, and you wanted to give him a chance to unwind.

The door creaked open, and you glanced up, a smile breaking across your face as he stepped inside, shaking droplets from his umbrella. His unruly curls were damp, and his usual tailored attire was slightly rumpled, adding to his endearing charm.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, removing his shoes by the door. “I got caught up with a case.”

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, stepping forward to take his coat. “You’re here now. Want some hot cocoa?”

His face lit up at the suggestion. “That sounds perfect.”

As you moved to the kitchen, you noticed him lingering in the living room, his gaze wandering over the cozy setup you’d prepared. A couple of throw blankets were draped over the couch, and fairy lights flickered softly, casting a warm glow throughout the space.

When you returned with two steaming mugs, you found him seated, his long legs crossed and a thoughtful expression on his face. You handed him a mug, watching as he wrapped his hands around it, savoring the warmth.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip. “This is amazing.”

You settled next to him on the couch, the familiar thrill of being close to him sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. You could tell he was still slightly tense, the remnants of his day lingering in the corners of his mind.

“Let’s watch something light,” you suggested, scrolling through options on the TV.

As you browsed, you caught a glimpse of a lingerie advertisement flashing across the screen. A smirk tugged at your lips as an idea sparked.

“Spencer,” you began, trying to sound casual. “What do you think of lingerie?”

He blinked, the question clearly catching him off guard. “Um, well… it’s… nice?” He shifted slightly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his adorably flustered reaction. “Nice? Just nice?”

“I mean, it’s functional,” he stumbled over his words. “But it can also be—um—artistic?”

His attempt to sound nonchalant only made you smile wider. “You really have no idea what you just walked into, do you?”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

With a teasing grin, you stood and disappeared into your bedroom, returning a moment later wearing a delicate lace set of lingerie beneath a flowing robe. The fabric clung to you in all the right ways, accentuating your figure.

Spencer’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell slightly open. “Wow.”

You approached him slowly, the teasing glint in your eyes matching the excitement in your chest. “What do you think?”

“You look… incredible,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. The way he looked at you—his eyes wide with awe and warmth—sent a thrill through you.

You knelt beside him, feeling bold as you brushed your fingers against the fabric of your robe, letting it slide open just enough to give him a glimpse. His breath hitched, and the moment hung between you, electric and charged.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, noticing the slight tremor in his hands as he set his mug down.

“I—yes. I just… you’re stunning,” he managed, his eyes fixed on you, a mix of admiration and something deeper.

You leaned closer, your heart racing. “It’s just us here. You can tell me how you really feel.”

His cheeks flushed, but he met your gaze. “I’ve thought about this. About you. A lot. More than I probably should.”

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. “Then why don’t we make the most of it?”

In that moment, the world outside faded away, the rain becoming a distant echo. You leaned in closer, and he met you halfway, capturing your lips in a soft kiss that quickly deepened, full of the unspoken longing that had been building between you.

As the rain fell outside, you knew this was just the beginning of a night filled with laughter, tenderness, and a few sweet secrets shared only between you two.

Kinktober 2024 is finally here!!

Writing for S.R & A.H!!!!

Since Kinktober already started and I sadly missed it I will be only doing some prompts such as day 6 which is lingerie

so stay tuned lovies and hold on tight because we are in for a treat!

Lose Control

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex

words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)

a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳

MASTERLIST

“…mind games until you lose control…”

CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.

"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."

He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."

"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."

His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"

"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"

"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.

"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."

His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."

"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."

His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.

It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.

She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.

"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"

Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"

But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."

"You can only open it from the other side."

She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"No."

She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"

"Nobody's going to hear you."

She tuned him out.

"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.

"What are you doing?"

He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."

She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"

"Then you have yourself to blame."

She glared at him. "You're not helping."

Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.

He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."

She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.

Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.

Again.

This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."

"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."

"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."

His cardigans were not ugly.

He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.

"Stop staring at me."

Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."

"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."

There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"

"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"

When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."

He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.

This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.

He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.

As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.

"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"

"Like you either want to strangle me or—"

"Or?" He prompted.

Like you want to eat me alive.

It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.

They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.

“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."

"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."

She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."

"You don't even know how I flirt."

"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."

"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”

She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"

"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."

She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"

He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."

She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."

She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.

Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?

Spencer fucking Reid?

It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.

Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"

Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."

"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."

"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."

She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”

Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.

A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.

He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."

She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."

"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."

Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"

"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."

"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.

"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."

She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.

A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"

Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."

She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."

"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.

"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."

"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"

"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."

She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."

"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."

The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"

"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.

"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."

She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."

"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"

"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.

But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.

"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."

"Reid—"

"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."

Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.

"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.

"Did you forget my name?"

Unbelievable.

"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."

But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.

Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.

Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.

Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"

There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.

This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.

"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."

A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.

Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."

She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.

The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.

"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.

"Do you still hate me?"

Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"

"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"

"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."

Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.

He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"

She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.

"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."

Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."

She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.

He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.

He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.

"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."

She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."

He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."

And then all hell broke loose.

He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.

Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.

One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."

She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.

Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."

"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"

She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"

"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.

"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."

He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."

"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."

With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."

Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"

"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."

How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...

It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.

"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.

His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.

A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."

This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."

His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.

He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."

She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"

Then she couldn't help her next words.

"Should I call you daddy?"

Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."

"A menace you enjoy fucking?"

His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."

Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.

Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.

"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."

It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender

"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."

As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.

"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."

She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.

When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.

Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"

Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.

"Get on your knees."

The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.

"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.

She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.

Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.

He groaned at the sight.

"I-I'm gonna come—"

And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.

Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.

It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.

"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."

In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.

"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."

Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."

When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"My underwear?"

He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.

"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."

Her steps faltered.

"Might?"

But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.

She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.

Because what the fuck did she get herself into?

.

Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?

DARK DESIRES

Last part of kinktober | main masterlist

ghostface!spencer x fem!reader; dubcon, knife play, sensory deprivation, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, rough sex

A twisted encounter with the masked killer roaming in your neighborhood had you questioning your morals because as it turned out, you were more attracted to him than you let on.

words: 6335

a/n: this fic might not be everyone's cup of tea. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE. Anyway, thank you for the amount of love everyone has sent me through this short series. I appreciate it❤️

THE FIRST ENCOUNTER you had with the masked killer was at home. You were in your living room, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the television until the news captured your attention. You watched with a mix of fascination and horror as the unfolding report detailed a series of gruesome murders, each committed by a mysterious figure concealed behind a chilling mask.

"The armed suspect remains at large as law enforcement intensifies efforts for apprehension," the newscaster's voice declared. "Victims have sustained multiple stab wounds, with survivors recounting a chilling detail of a mysterious call from an unknown number before each attack. Citizens are urgently requested to report any suspicious phone activity."

As you sat there engrossed, a sense of dread began to coil around you. The details of the gruesome murders had been haunting enough, but a chilling realization gripped you as the camera panned across the crime scenes. Your eyes widened as the news footage revealed a recognizable building. That was the local library a few blocks away from your house.

A shiver went down your spine, and a cold unease settled in the pit of your stomach, as you realized that one of the victims was the young teenage boy who volunteered at the town's library every weekend. It then dawned on you with chilling clarity—a serial killer was lurking in your neighborhood.

The second time you saw the masked killer, his face was plastered around town. Ghostface. That was what they called him. The once-anonymous menace had transformed into a chilling icon that echoed through hushed conversations and whispered warnings. His mask, a pale and expressionless countenance with hollow eyes, exuded an unsettling aura of anonymity. It was what you saw in every corner; materializing on posters, shop windows, and even billboards.

Beware of Ghostface!

It was ironic. For someone who was murdering people with his bare hands, your community was giving him too much attention. It wasn't until you saw a group of well-dressed people, who clearly weren't from around here, that you realized how serious this situation was.

When the FBI arrived, you knew it was no longer a local matter, but a national concern. There was reassurance in their presence, in the sense that the full force of specialized agents was now focused on apprehending the killer that haunted the streets. But despite their formidable presence, against all expectations, the masked killer continued to pursue more victims.

You couldn't help but wonder every time someone you knew was reported dead—were these people even doing their job right? What were they doing here when they couldn't arrest one person when they came in a full pack?

You never really noticed these agents, although you did sometimes see them lurking around shops and houses to ask questions. You didn't really give them much attention, until that one night when you walked back from work and saw a figure leaning casually against a sleek, black SUV adorned with government markings.

He was standing alone, arms crossed and eyes focused on you as you slowly stepped closer because the only way to your house was to pass this street. He was clad in the quintessential FBI vest over his dress shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms. His height commanded attention, casting a subtle shadow that seemed to stretch into the surrounding darkness.

A cascade of curly, unruly locks framed his face, falling in a chaotic dance that obscured much of his features. But even in the dark, you could tell he was handsome, and the messiness of his hair added a touch of his disheveled charm. Yet, it was his eyes that held you captive. Stark and penetrating. Instead of finding comfort in the presence of an authority, you felt an unsettling chill crawl down your spine as his stare lingered on you.

"You shouldn't walk alone at night with a killer on the loose," he stated abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Caught off guard, you stammered in response, "I, uh, my house is right around the corner."

His eyes, still fixed on you, held an inscrutable intensity. You shuddered. Without thinking much, and fueled by a sudden surge of unease, you briskly left his side.

People say the third time's a charm, that the idea after two unsuccessful attempts or failures, the third attempt is more likely to be successful or fortunate. However, in your case, you didn't know what to make of it when you encountered the masked killer for the third time.

It started with a call.

At first, you didn't bother the unknown number flashing on your phone, especially when a killer was roaming around town with its known trademark of calling his victims before his attack. So you ignored it and continued to prepare your dinner. But then it rang again. Once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time it constantly rang, you realized, that whoever was on the other line wasn't going to stop until you answered.

"Hello?" you nervously greeted.

"Hello there. Took you long enough," the voice on the other line replied. It was soft, distinctly masculine, quite disoriented, yet it carried a mysterious familiarity that you couldn't put your finger on.

"Who is this?" you pressed.

"A person."

You scoffed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief coloring your response. "Charming." With an eye roll, you dismissed the call, attributing it to nothing more than a prank. "Goodbye."

"Wait—no! Don't hang up!" The urgency in the voice pleaded, catching your attention before you could close the connection.

Frowning, you hesitated, the nagging sense that you had heard this voice somewhere before lingering in your mind. "No, really, who is this?"

The voice, now veiled in a playful tone, responded with, "A secret admirer." 

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across your face. "I doubt it," you said, leaning over the kitchen counter. "No one has ever had a crush on me."

"Well, I do."

"Tell me who you are then," you challenged.

"But it won't be a secret anymore."

You paused for a moment, the wheels of curiosity turning in your mind. "You really know me?" 

"Of course, I do."

"Do I know you then?" you asked.

"Maybe," he answered, a playful ambiguity threading his response. "So, you got a boyfriend?"

"Why?" You laughed, the unexpected question breaking the tension. "You wanna ask me out on a date?" 

"Maybe," he responded again, maintaining a hint of mystery. "So do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"That's a pity," he sighed, his tone taking on a flirtatious note. "You look too good in that shirt without a man appreciating it."

Your heart quickened at his words. Was he... you looked around your house, your eyes traveling across the many windows adorned in your personal space. A mixture of shock and discomfort settled in as you considered the possibility of being observed.

"W- What did you say?" 

"You look too good in that white shirt," he repeated. "Doesn't leave much to the imagination." 

You looked down at yourself. The shirt he mentioned was actually a tanktop you decided to wear for bed, but you weren't wearing anything else under it, so true to his words, this piece of clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. The hemline hung low on your chest, leaving a perfect view of your cleavage. The cold temperature of the room managed to make your body react, which was why your nipples were pressing hard against the material.

"Hello? Are you still here?" Sensing your silence, the voice on the other line held a sudden edge of urgency. "Wait—don't you hang up on me—"

You quickly ended the call. Feeling a sudden need for privacy, you hastily closed the curtains, shutting out the view from the windows as you clutched your phone in your hand. Your heart raced, and a wave of dread engulfed you. The unsettling possibility that someone might be targeting you, and not just anyone, but the masked killer, cast a chilling shadow over your thoughts.

The phone rang again. You hesitated, a part of you urging against answering, but somehow, almost involuntarily, you found yourself pressing the phone against your ear. The adrenaline of fear seemed to override your rational instincts, forcing you to engage with the source of the unease, even against your better judgment. 

"I told you not to hang up on me," the man greeted you, but his voice lacked the soft, friendly tone it had before. Instead, it had morphed into something more sinister, a deep resonance that reverberated through the air.

"Wh-who is this?" you asked, your voice quivering with a blend of fear and frustration. "What do you want?"

"To volunteer. Let me appreciate how good you look tonight."

You were desperate now. The urgency in his voice propelled you into action. Your feet guided you to the front door, and you locked it securely before quickly running up the stairs. Panic seized you as you checked and secured all the windows, the sense of vulnerability amplifying with each lock turned.

A sudden sound of laughter filled your ear. 

"What you're doing is useless," he taunted, the malicious glee in his voice sending shivers down your spine. Then, with a sinister tone that cut through the air, his next words had you stopping in your tracks.

"I'm already inside."

The air in the house thickened with dread as his words hung ominously. Panic set in, and the once-familiar surroundings now felt like a trap closing in around you. Every creak of the house, every flicker of shadow, became a sign of impending danger.

He was the one to end the call, and you looked down at your front door from the top of your stairs. You calculated how long it would take you to escape your own house as you slowly descended down. But then, the closet door by the front, the small room where you kept your coats and unused items, suddenly opened.

The creak of the door echoed through the silence, and your eyes fixated on the widening gap. Your escape route seemed to diminish and fear paralyzed you. The once-familiar confines of your home now held an intruder, and as you stared at the ominous opening, a figure emerged from the shadows.

Your eyes widened, because right in the flesh was none other than Ghostface, stepping out of your closet with a knife in his hand. The chilling reality gripped you, and time seemed to slow as the masked intruder stood before your eyes. The pale, ghostly visage stared back at you, obscured by the haunting mask that concealed any trace of humanity.

You moved on instinct. You turned on your heels and ran back up the stairs, even when you were aware there was no escape unless you jumped out of your window. But it was a better plan than running right into the arms of a killer, so you picked up your pace, sprinting as fast as you could down the hallway.

But he was fast, unnaturally so, and suddenly you felt a vice-like grip around your waist. His hand urged you with brutal force before slamming your back against the wall. The impact reverberated through your body, and a gasp caught in your throat as the cold surface of the wall pressed against you.

His presence loomed, the masked figure inches from your face. The hollow eyes of Ghostface bore into yours through the chilling mask, and the glint of the knife in his hand reflected the cruel intent that hung in the air.

Panic engulfed you as his other gloved hand circled around your throat. "Pl-Please.." you chocked, struggling against the force he pressed on your neck. "...don't—don’t kill me."

The air felt constricted, and the desperate plea escaped your lips in a struggled gasp. The gloved hand tightened its grip, the leather cool against your skin, as Ghostface's masked visage remained impassive. 

"Kill you?" he asked, an eerie edge in his voice. "That's the last thing I want to do right now."

You desperately placed a hand on his wrist as you let your phone hit the ground.

"Don't move," he warned. But you kept on thrashing around, the primal instinct for survival overriding reason, and he tightened his grip on you. "If you keep struggling, I might have to gut you out like a damn fish."

That made you stop. Satisfied you were listening, he finally let go of your throat. The release brought a gasp of air, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall. 

"I'm not here to kill you," Ghostface declared, the chilling mask betraying no emotion. "But I do have something else in mind." 

He responded by caressing your face and pinning you against the wall. The cold, gloved hand traced a chilling path across your skin, and you felt the sharp contrast between the mask and the vulnerability of your flesh. He tilted his head as he saw the fear in your eyes, tears welling at the corners.

"Aw, come on, don't look so scared," he murmured, a perverse tenderness in his voice that clashed with the situation. His sharp blade went to your throat, the cold steel sending a shiver down your spine. He forced you to stare into the hollowness of the mask.

"Let me have my fun."

You felt the blade on your skin as he dragged the weapon along your body. He smiled when he noticed you tensing, trying to avoid the sharpness of the blade from grazing your skin. Through tear-filled eyes, you looked up, struggling to catch your breath. Fear still consumed you, a chilling grip on your senses, but alongside it, an unexpected emotion stirred. Curiosity.

As you gazed at the masked killer looming over you, a strange sense of intrigue took place. It was a baffling response, the surreal proximity to the infamous Ghostface left you grappling with a mix of terror and fascination. The sheer scale of his presence seemed to stretch into the shadows, and you couldn't help but wonder—was he actually this tall?

A sudden movement caught your attention as he took a step. He moved underneath the black cloak he wore, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he slipped a leg between yours. The confined space of the hallway seemed to shrink further as his presence pressed in on you.

And then there was silence. The air hung heavy with anticipation, and you sensed a deliberate slowness in his actions. It was as if he offered you a chance to resist, to push him away. But you didn't move. Instead, you held your breath, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet.

"You've stopped struggling," he hummed to himself, trailing the knife over your shoulder. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

There wasn't time for you to reply as he hooked the blade under your top and ran it along the fabric, watching it snap under the sharp surface. The cool air hit your skin as you were suddenly exposed to him. Without warning, his other hand moved over your breasts, squeezing them roughly, earning a gasp from you. Your heart pounded with something akin to fear, or perhaps, it oddly felt like… excitement?

"Of course, you are," he muttered, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You could feel the cool touch of his gloved hand over your skin as he brushed his thumb over your sensitive bud. "Knew you were a fucking slut."

What was happening? It was wrong, morally twisted, yet you found a strange sense of anticipation as he continued to touch you. Your body was shaking, not just from fear, but from something else. While your rational side recoiled at what was happening, your body seemed to betray a darker truth.

You hated yourself. You loathed how easily you were giving in. You kept on reciting how wrong this was in your head, but when you felt the blade cut through the fabric of your shorts with ease, you didn't mind as much. Then your breath hitched when he quickly ripped your panties with his knife, and somehow you were now naked with his leg placed between your thighs.

"Would you look at that?" He taunted, his leathered hand moving over your curves. "You're dripping."

You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up your thigh, stopping just before his fingers brushed over your heat. The touch was so faint it shouldn't have even had that much of an effect on you, but it did. It fucking did.

This was so unlike you, you weren't the kind of person to let someone you barely knew touch you. You even disliked the idea of a one-night stand. Yet here you were, legs wide open as you let a murderer touch you, and the messed up thing was, you wanted more.

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly as if to test your reaction. You bit your bottom lip, stopping yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he played with your clit skillfully.

He was far too good at this, you found yourself thinking. Your body jerked as he increased his pace and you knew he had a goal in mind—to make you fall apart. The fast pace of his fingers had your brows furrowing as you chewed your bottom lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips bucked and rolled against his hand. He let out a chilling laughter.

"Stop acting like you don't want this," he said, increasing his pressure on your clit. Your eyes screwed shut, and you focused on that touch alone, the leather sliding over your wet skin. "Let me hear your pathetic voice."

You shook your head furiously.

"No?" He mocked. "You wanna bet how fast I can make you scream?"

His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly stroking you, earning a muffled cry out of you. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He laughed again.

"I'm going to make you scream so loud your neighbors will know how much of a slut you are."

And then he pressed the edge of the blade on your throat at the same time he plunged two fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open and a loud squeal left your lips, the sound distorted by the vibrations surging through your body. He hummed in satisfaction at how fast it was to earn that moan from your lips, and surprisingly, he loved the sound you made.

It didn't take long for him to force more sounds out of your pretty mouth. You felt the coolness of the wall behind your back, the pads of your fingers brushing over the concrete in a pathetic attempt to get a hold of something, anything that could keep you steady while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt with a wet, squelching sound.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, saturating every cell of your trembling body. The electrifying rush heightened your senses, amplifying the surreal nature of the pleasure. You wriggled your hips under the pressure of his body that was keeping you pinned against the wall, feeling so fucking embarrassed by the wetness dripping out of you.

"Fucking filthy, letting a murderer touch you." He then dragged his fingers out of you and started to rub your clit in tight, rapid circles. You practically cried out and quickly bit your lower lip to subside another embarrassing moan. "You know how many people I've killed with this hand? The same hand touching your sweet little pussy?"

Your thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away. He responded by sinking three of his fingers inside you and groaned at the way you were clenching around him. "Look at you taking my fingers so well."

The leather slightly burned your skin, and somehow, it only heightened your pleasure. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit hard as he continued to curl his fingers. You gasped as your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him while his fingers pushed deeper into you, touching a spot you had never been aware of. The sensation brought an unusual feeling to your senses. You looked at him in confusion, your eyes widening.

"Pl- Please, stop," you begged out of fear of the unknown. The tickling in your abdomen was becoming almost unbearable, and you clasped your thighs together and involuntarily bent your knees a little in an attempt to make his fingers slip out of your wet cunt.

With a feral growl, he suddenly threw the knife on the floor before wrapping his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the wall.

"Take it," he hissed and tightened his grip, making you jolt forward. You helplessly part your legs and whimpered as his palm brushed over your clit with every thrust, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he held you in place. "Fucking take it."

The sensation was overwhelming to the point tears began to trickle down your face, and you tried to desperately blink them away as they hindered your vision.

"Oh, you're crying now?" He cooed, still rocking his fingers violently inside you. "Pathetic."

Before you knew it, your hips were bucking, distraught cries escaping you. Your body shuddered as if it were under his control, forcing out your orgasm like it was effortless as his fingers curled inside you, continuing to stimulate you even after you begged him to stop.

It wasn't long before he was bringing you back up again. His pace turned into a more intense speed that, to your surprise, the familiar contracting of your pulsing walls was followed by the splurge of weird liquid coming out of you. Your mouth fell open as you writhed against him, your sensitive cunt almost numb to the sensation as he pressed you for more.

You were so numb you could no longer feel his fingers buried deep inside your convulsing walls, squeezing around his digits as you shook in the tremors of your release. When you looked at him in shock, cheeks burning crimson and chest rising and falling heavily, a pretentious laugh left him. With a vulgar squelching sound, he slipped his fingers out of your pussy.

"Squirting like a pathetic slut,” he spat, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. "Told you I'd make you scream."

Your body turned pliant as you gave in and sank against the wall. You watched him lean down through your half-lidded eyes as you tried to ground yourself, his movements deliberate and swift, grabbing your wrecked shirt from the floor. You watched in confusion as he pressed the flimsy material together before firmly shoving it over your eyes.

Panic surged through you as the sudden darkness enveloped our vision. Although you couldn't see him, you heard him very well. His muffled breathing behind the mask, the soft rustle of fabric as he adjusted the material at the back of your head. Your other senses were heightened when you were robbed of your vision that you could even smell him.

The sharp scent of sweat and a faint hint of earthiness clung to him, as though remnants of the ground followed his presence. Yet, amidst the rawness, there was a surprising note of sweetness, as if a subtle cologne lingered beneath the surface.

God, he was so close. His chest was now pressed against yours, and then suddenly, almost forcefully, you felt warm hands grip your jaw. Your mouth fell open.

He took off his gloves.

Goosebumps rose on your skin when a sudden breeze of air brushed across your face and you gasped. You could barely think clearly, and you could barely even brace yourself when harsh lips captured your mouth desperately. You couldn't believe what was happening, because holy fuck—you were kissing Ghostface.

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way he kissed you. A deep shuddering groan rippled through him as he continued to assault your lips. You were too stunned at the way he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you in a way that had your body trembling at the sheer force of intensity traveling through your veins.

And when you finally felt his bare fingers grazing along your drenched core, going up and down your swollen folds, he captured the moan falling through your lips with a groan.

"So fucking filthy," he whispered against your lips as he continued to tease you. His voice, once muffled, was now very clear. The tones were distinct, carrying an inexplicable familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory. But before you could even try to recall where you had heard it before, he surprised you by increasing the speed of his fingers.

"You want more of this, don't you?"

You shook your head, but your body was saying otherwise. Your hand gripped his arm as he started to play with your clit again, and your knees buckled pathetically. His other hand fell on your waist to steady you while he pressed a kiss on the hollow point of your throat, traveling further up the skin till his teeth nibbled on your ear lobe.

He then grabbed onto one of your legs and hiked it around his waist as he pushed his hips into you. You could feel the outline of his hard cock behind the cloak he was wearing and you let out a whimper when he started rolling his hips.

"Is this what you want?" He rasped out at the shell of your ear. You felt strong hands grip your wrists before he pushed them above your head, pining you against the wall. "You want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You shook your head again, attempting to anchor yourself. The struggle was evident in the tension of your muscles, each fiber resisting the pull toward surrender. You should push him. You should cry for help. Yet here you were questioning your sanity as you slowly, almost desperately, grind your hips along with his, yearning for more friction.

"Dirty, dirty slut," he muttered against your lips before kissing you once again, swallowing your whimpers as his hips snapped into you. "I bet you feel so tight around me."

Desire roared fire in your veins, and you whined. He leaned over and captured one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you moaned again before he let out a satisfied hum. You could practically feel the smirk curling on his lips as he taunted, "You react so well. I might have to keep you."

Goosebumps rose along your skin. Then in a swift and forceful motion, he yanked you, abruptly pushing you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, leaving you landing on your knees.

As you tried to make sense of what was happening, a hand pushed against your back, and you toppled forward, landing on the ground face-first, finding yourself on your hands and knees. A sharp smack hit your bare ass from behind and you jolted in surprise.

"Spread them wide for me," He murmured, gaze skipping over your nakedness. He marveled at the sight before him, the way you shamelessly arched your back at his command. Yet when he noticed you hesitating, he dropped his voice in a lower, sinister tone.

"Don't make me use my knife."

You quickly did as you were told, your hands traveling behind you, spreading your sticky thighs in a languorous stretch, and you shuddered under the weight of his eyes. You whined at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin and a trickle of your arousal ran down your thigh, much to your utter embarrassment. "Look how pretty you are."

Heat blossomed in your chest. Then the sound of a belt being undone had you whimpering, and you moved instinctively, arching your back even further. One of his hands landed on your ass again with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. You could hear more rustling and a slight soft thud behind you. The lack of vision made you overly sensitive and you found yourself waiting with bated breath for his every move.

With a sharp tug, he pulled you back by your hips before one of his hands landed on the back of your neck. You felt him push down hard and you obliged, lowering your face and upper body to the floor as his other hand remained holding your hips up in the air. And then you felt him—pulsing warm right at your entrance.

A pitiful groan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock swiped back and forth along your folds. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the small space at the feel of your arousal coating him. And then suddenly, without warning, he abruptly plunged inside of you. He thrust straight into that spot deep inside that stung so good a sharp cry slipped out of you. It was painful, his sheer force of girth stretching you apart, though that cry quickly became a low moan of pleasure.

The man behind you showed no mercy, thrusting his hips into you with force and purpose, so hard you felt your body inching across the hardwood floor with each stroke. Your mouth fell open when one of his hands released your neck before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you and he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher.

He held himself there as he used the grip on your hair to haul you backward to him. Your back was arched, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you fell back into his chest. For a few moments, it was almost uncomfortable, but then, surprisingly, you felt even more aroused than you already were.

You pushed your ass even higher, arching your body in search of more of that delicious sensation. It felt like electricity shocked your entire body, triggering intense waves of pleasure that repeatedly spread wildly from your core as you focused on the pleasure building between your legs, the burning sensation filling you to the brim.

It was maddening. Frustrating, even. Because you didn't even care anymore, you didn't even care if you exposed for him, you didn't even care if your knees ached from the hard friction of the floor because any shreds of sanity and pride had long since been destroyed. You wanted more. You needed more. 

It was so twisted. You longed to be broken by him. You longed to be ruined by him.

You had never imagined being in this position, kneeling on the floor with a murderer thrusting himself into you, yet here you were, whimpering at the sensation of doing the forbidden. Your mind turned delirious he released the hold on your hair, his hand snaking around your front to grip your throat.

You continued to meet his savage thrusts with your hips, slamming into you as your wail turned into a ragged scream. The sensation, though pleasurable, became too intense to handle. You attempted to move away from him, stealing his breath as your inner walls clenched around his cock. His firm hand gripped your hips tighter, preventing you from pulling away as he held you in position, thrusting his cock into your throbbing pussy.

A helpless sound trickled from your throat as your body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked you through it. Everything was so intense your mind was struggling to comprehend what was happening as he pounded into you roughly. You tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through your body but you were too overwhelmed. "T-Too much."

"T-Too much," he mocked. A sinister laugh sliced through the darkness, sending shivers down your spine. "Fucking. Take. It."

His words were punctuated with every snap of his hips. The insistent thrust made you thrash your head as your body convulsed, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where you could only wail. Your breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as he urged you on, and you gave yourself over to the wildfire consuming your body. You whimpered, head rolling back onto his shoulder.

"That's it, taking me so perfectly," his voice, now a sinister whisper, slithered into your ears. "Knew you were special the moment I saw you."

A gasp escaped you, the weight of his words settling with an unsettling realization. Amidst the darkness, you felt the contours of his laughter.

"Don't act so surprised. I'm your secret admirer, remember?" You felt his hand leave your hips before it trailed toward your front. You knew what he was about to do and you clenched him involuntarily, already anticipating what was to come. 

"Fuck," He hissed. "You feel so tight around me. I really do have to keep you now."

The coil inside you was dangerously close to snapping and he growled as your cunt clenched around his cock.

"Oh, you liked that. You like the idea of me using you? Fuck you whenever I want?" He questioned, his fingers moving to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening at his sharp movements, your hands moving to his wrist as you tried to ground yourself.

You gasped when you felt him tightening the grip on your throat, the skin tingling as he repeated the motion. "Filthy little thing, aren't you?"

"I-I—" You spluttered, feeling your legs going numb. You squealed when you felt him pick up his pace on your clit, rubbing messy circles against it as your back slumped against him, mouth parting, your tongue slipping out between your lips.

It was too much. You felt like you were about to explode. Your mind went blank. Your body felt numb. There was nothing else you could do but to give into the force of pleasure consuming you as he fucked you roughly, his hips hitting you in harsh motions.

"You gonna cum now?" He grunted, pressing his mouth at the shell of your ear. You helplessly nodded, not able to make out any coherent words anymore. He groaned between thrusts, keeping a firm grip on your ass to keep you from squirming. "Go on then, cum on my cock like the filthy whore that you are."

As if on command, your body spasmed involuntarily. It started with a prickling of your skin creeping up your body, over your breasts and face, inner walls tightening around his cock, and you came hard. You squirmed uncontrollably as all that pent-up pleasure welled up in your core. Your heart was pounding erratically against your heaving chest you could even hear the pounding in your ears.

Your mind was in a drunken haze as the pleasure continued to flow through your veins, his fingertips languidly brushed against your clit. But despite the desperate spasms of your pussy, he continued to penetrate your body. Every thrust hit more intensely than the last, wetness flooded from you as reality slipped away, and all you could do was burn, vocally urging him on as he moaned darkly behind you.

You were very far from sanity from everything consuming your body. You felt him everywhere. His grinding cock, the press of his fingers as they moved to toy with your clit, and his blunt nails cut around your throat. Your cunt continued to possessively grip his cock as you wailed breathlessly.

Heat traveled through you, body quivering and going boneless, the warm ripples of release dulling the sharp edges of your mind as he drove into you and finally chased his own high. The filthy feel of him emptying inside you, your shimmering release, and his hands decorating your skin with fingerprint bruises, was all you could focus on.

Until the distinct sound of sirens echoed in the background.

Your mind went hazy as you tried to anchor yourself and you heard him chuckle in amusement. "I guess you really woke your neighbors up," he said, letting go of his grip around your throat. You let out a breathless sigh when you felt him slipping out of you, surprisingly feeling empty.

He groaned as his eyes traveled down, watching the way his release dripped out from your convulsing pussy, traveling down the length of your thighs. “It’s a pity I have to cut this short.” Then you felt his lips near your ear. “Until next time."

"W- What?" Your head snapped up, disoriented in the darkness, as you tried to discern his voice. "You'll come back?"

"I'll be here when you least expect it." Then the unexpected happened. He surprised you with a gentle kiss on your shoulder, a stark contrast from everything that had taken place. The contradiction sent shudders through you as you felt his grip on your hips tightening. "Keep your doors unlocked for me."

A sudden emptiness enveloped you as he withdrew from your personal space. Your mind, still reeling from the inexplicable events, struggled to make sense of what happened. And now the realization that he wasn't behind you anymore prompted your hands to instinctively reach for the makeshift blindfold, swiftly slipping it off your face.

Blinking in the sudden light, your eyes adjusted to the surroundings. Your eyes caught his figure standing tall at the top of your staircase, back turned, a fleeting glimpse of brown curls disappearing beneath the mask he hastily put back on. 

Abruptly, he turned to you, the hollow visage of Ghostface now fixed in your direction. The tilt of his head sent a shiver down your spine as he looked at you for another fleeting second, as if he was giving you a silent promise as the faint sound of sirens continued from the distance. You stared back at him, heart thrumming in your chest.

And then he was gone.

What a shame. || S.R x Fem!Reader

 Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content warning:  None just two idiots in love and obiously spencer rambling

Summary:Spencer and Reader like each other but are both too shy to admit it

Word count: 299

Author's Note: I was lowkey bored and remembered I have tumblr so here we are, If yall can please comment and like that would be highly appreciated and enjoy!

I watch in admiration as Spencer fixes his glasses, his slim finger pressing them up towards the bridge of his nose as he continues reading his book with a slight smile. “Hey spencer what'chu reading?” I ask curiously as he looks up at me with those big brown mesmerizing eyes, “In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, it's actually quite interesting.” Nodding slowly I tilt my head in curiosity, “What's it about?” I ask as I almost see his eyes light up “Well it's a nonfiction novel by the American author Truman Capote, first published in 1966.

It details the 1959 murders of four members of the Clutter family in the small farming community of Holcomb, Kansas.” I nod my head with a smile as he continues, “Truman Capote supposedly compiled 8000 pages of notes while researching In Cold Blood. Capote arrived in Kansas to research In Cold Blood just weeks after the November 1959 murders, and he spent time with the killers in the hours before they were hanged at Kansas State Penitentiary in April 1965.”

Intently I listen as he states all sorts of facts even some apparent secrets and fidget with my fingers as he then finishes, glancing at me he tilts his head as if studying and memorizing my features, I look at him my cheeks slightly red as I mumble a quick “Interesting.” His brows furrowed together as he leaned forward, “Why do you get flustered everytime I look at you?” he tilts his head a little more awaiting an answer, his gaze slightly falling to my lips “I don't know it”, “yes you do, but for some reason you won't tell me”. “Well I don't kiss and tell so…” his eyes widened as he leaned back again sinking into his seat “that's a shame.”

The end!!!!!

What a shame. || S.R x Fem!Reader

 Pairing:Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content warning:  None just two idiots in love and obiously spencer rambling

Summary:Spencer and Reader like each other but are both too shy to admit it

Word count: 299

Author's Note: I was lowkey bored and remembered I have tumblr so here we are, If yall can please comment and like that would be highly appreciated and enjoy!

I watch in admiration as Spencer fixes his glasses, his slim finger pressing them up towards the bridge of his nose as he continues reading his book with a slight smile. “Hey spencer what'chu reading?” I ask curiously as he looks up at me with those big brown mesmerizing eyes, “In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, it's actually quite interesting.” Nodding slowly I tilt my head in curiosity, “What's it about?” I ask as I almost see his eyes light up “Well it's a nonfiction novel by the American author Truman Capote, first published in 1966.

It details the 1959 murders of four members of the Clutter family in the small farming community of Holcomb, Kansas.” I nod my head with a smile as he continues, “Truman Capote supposedly compiled 8000 pages of notes while researching In Cold Blood. Capote arrived in Kansas to research In Cold Blood just weeks after the November 1959 murders, and he spent time with the killers in the hours before they were hanged at Kansas State Penitentiary in April 1965.”

Intently I listen as he states all sorts of facts even some apparent secrets and fidget with my fingers as he then finishes, glancing at me he tilts his head as if studying and memorizing my features, I look at him my cheeks slightly red as I mumble a quick “Interesting.” His brows furrowed together as he leaned forward, “Why do you get flustered everytime I look at you?” he tilts his head a little more awaiting an answer, his gaze slightly falling to my lips “I don't know it”, “yes you do, but for some reason you won't tell me”. “Well I don't kiss and tell so…” his eyes widened as he leaned back again sinking into his seat “that's a shame.”

The end!!!!!

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

three cents

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you butt dial your boss during a girls night … the girls night where you told them you’d fuck aaron hotchner for three cents.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: talks of big dick energy, prostitution if you squint, red wine, gray sweatpants (mentioned)

Girls' night out was wild, no one knew where you would end up. One night, you ended up on a boat and the next you were on a train to NYC. After getting thrown in jail with Emily, JJ, and Penelope during another night out, you all vowed to keep whatever happened during the night a secret from everyone, specifically Derek Morgan. Derek Morgan who had bailed all four of you out of jail, Derek Morgan who teased you relentlessly for weeks after.

After a long case, Emily suggested another girl’s night which all of you agreed on, desperately needing a celebratory drink after saving a little girl. It was around one in the morning when you got back to Quantico and though Aaron gave you the day off for tomorrow–or well, later today–all four of you decided to crash at Emily’s and drink to your heart’s content.

Popcorn and Hersey kisses lay on Emily’s coffee table, bottles of half-empty wine and jello shots litter the floor and you’re all giggling about whether to prank Derek by getting phone cases with a picture of him shirtless. You’re all on board and Penelope is getting them custom-made through a website she’s found.

“Speaking of Derek’s abs.” JJ drags the ‘s’ creating a hissing noise. She turns to you, grinning. “I’ve wanted to ask ever since you went to that Doctor Who convention with him. Do you like like Spence?”

You giggled, taking a small sip of wine, thinking about the genius. “Noooo. Spence is my friend. And he runs with his gun like it’s weighing him down. Besides, I only went to that Doctor Who convention because he went to see Barbie with me. He’s, like, too young for me, too.”

“He’s older than you.” Emily points out, smirking, knowing full well you liked older men. “He’s adorable and sweet.”

“Spencer is definitely cute and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had a sex dream about him,” you confessed, smiling as the girls burst out laughing. “But he’s too … inexperienced. I like my men like I like my wine. Old.”

Your phone had been on mute since you entered the plane, not wanting to abruptly wake anyone up if they were resting, so not a single person in the room had heard your phone ringing or Aaron’s multiple “hello’s” trying to get your attention. All of you were oblivious to your boss listening in to the conversation.

“Is Rossi too old for you?” Penelope asked, inciting another round of giggles.

You nodded, finishing off your glass of wine. “Just a bit. I’ve seen pictures of him when he was in the Marines though, and I definitely would’ve been the fourth Mrs. Rossi back then.”

Emily cackled, a bit of red wine spilling from her full glass. “Okay, I have a question. Would you guys fuck Hotch for ten million dollars? Be honest here.”

“No!” both JJ and Penelope spit out. They all turned to you, grinning like madmen.

You shrugged, filling another glass. “I’d do it for three.”

“Damn, three million? That’s–“

“Nope,” you smirked, taking a sip.

Emily paused, head tilting in confusion. “Three … hundred thousand?”

“No.”

“Three thousand?”

You shake your head, grinning at the confused woman. “Nope.”

“Three hundred?”

“No.”

Emily’s eyes widened, jaw-dropping a little further as you denied her guesses. “Three dollars?”

“No.”

“THREE CENTS?” JJ was the one to shout, mouth dropping open when you giggled and nodded.

Penelope threw a pillow at you, and you giggled, dodging it, nearly spilling your drink in the process. “Hey! This is supposed to be a judge-free zone. I’d suck and fuck Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner for three measly cents.”

“Okay, I’d understand if you said Derek but Hotch?” Emily exclaimed, shaking her head at the thought. “He’s like twenty years older than you!”

“Exactly! That’s part of the appeal,” you replied. You were sure by tomorrow no one would remember your confession–though you were positive you wouldn’t either–and that they wouldn’t tease you too much over it. “He’s the literal definition of a DILF.”

The girls laughed at your words, JJ having to clutch onto a pillow to control herself.

“And!” you continue. “I was working out with Derek once and Hotch came in the gym with gray sweats and his dick looks humongous. It was a huge fucking bulge. I think I saw it twitching.”

Penelope slaps her hands over her ears, playfully grimacing at your words while Emily chugs the remains of her glass, absolutely baffled. You didn’t mind, sex and boys were common conversation topics during girl’s night (and sometimes when Emily would catch you making eyes at someone.

The rest of the night continued the same, though less talk about Hotch’s big dick and more on whether you all should make more jello shots. By the time you’re coming up with an answer, it’s five in the morning and all four of you are knocked out from the alcohol in your system. Even in your drunk state, you knew you’d wake up to a pounding headache.

When Derek calls in the morning, telling everyone about a new case, you’re all moody and grumpy. Hotch wanted everyone in even though he had given the day off, so no one was jumping for joy especially not in your hangover state.

Despite drinking the most, Emily drives the four of you back to the BAU, mumbling obscenities under her breath on the way. When you enter the elevator, Derek is there, causing all of you to groan at his presence. One look at you and he laughs loudly, knowing what had transpired the night before.

You wish you could shoot his foot.

In the briefing room, Hotch apologizes for having you all come in on your day off, pausing to glance at you before presenting the case. Truth be told, you hadn’t paid that much attention to it, your headache taking up your attention. Fire, serial arsonist, fifteen dead, Seattle.

“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch announces, walking across the table. As the team filters out of the room, he calls your name. “In my office, please. I want to discuss something with you.”

Confused, you follow him to his office, pushing through your headache to think about what he could possibly want to speak to you about. You come up blank, even more confused when you see him lock the door to his office as you enter. “Did I do something wrong?”

Hotch shook his head, moving past you to his desk. He picks up something and turns around. In his hands are three pennies, and he’s holding them out to you. “Three cents.”

You’re getting deja vu on the words, and it’s not until several seconds of standing in silence and confusion that it clicks. Three cents. You blush, looking at the pennies. “I don’t understand.”

“You said you’d suck and fuck me for three cents,” he smirks at your shock, placing the coins in your hands.

“What–”

Hotch unbuckles his belt, causing you to stop mid-sentence. “You’ve got twenty-eight minutes to suck my cock. Get to work.”

Blade

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ghostface!Spencer Reid x Ghostface!Elle Greenaway

Description: It’s Halloween night and the streets of Washington DC are a ghost town because of the new curfew put into place after the sudden uprise in murders. Unbeknownst to you, the two people who are on a spree are planning on trick-or-treating tonight. Their treat? You

Content/Warnings: Noncon/dubcon (not sure which one applies cause I’m new to this tbh), knife play, blood, spitting, ffm threesome, crying, fuck-or-die scenario (if you squint), penetration with foreign object, oral (f + m receiving), face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex (have you ever noticed how I never write protected sex?), breeding kink, creampie

Word Count: 3.6K

Kinktober Day Fourteen: Knife Kink

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The streets of Washington DC were empty, an eerie fog picking up within the night. Halloween night was usually far different, the many parties going on for adults or the children trick-or-treating and lighting up the dimly lit neighborhoods scattered across the city. This year, fear suffocated the city, a masked killer haunting the area while brutally murdering people and showing absolutely no remorse.

The BAU was working days on end, every lead being buried so deep that not even the brilliant mind of Penelope Garcia could dig them up. Every phone call made could never be traced, no voice recognition because of the device concealing the true voice of the culprit and changing the tone. The hopes weren’t high, the best bet was waiting for this person to get sloppy. It was just a shame because this man knew exactly what he was doing.

None of you had even begun to think of the possibility of it being a team, the kills all perfectly aligned to the point that it had to be a coordinated unsub who’d planned this. The team has been sent home for the night, knowing that you all needed sleep over anything else. It was easier said than done, especially whenever you couldn’t manage to lay down without hearing some bump that had you shooting right back up. Even in an apartment where numerous sounds were normal, you were on the highest of alert.

You had just finished a brief phone call with Spencer, entrusting your closest friend and coworker in your struggles to sleep. He’d commented that he understood and was going through the same issues, telling you numerous things to try and relax yourself enough to sleep. You told him you’d call him later, opting to take a shower before bed in hopes it would relax your tensed muscles.

Little did you know, you gave him just what he wanted.

Your hands were moving to slowly turn the water of the shower head off, a sigh leaving your lips as you felt comfortable. That was what you needed. As your hand dipped out of the shower curtain, you were retrieving the towel hanging on the hanger beside you. Before you could attempt to dry yourself, you were groaning whenever the power had been flipped off. It was storming outside, so you assumed it had to do with the weather. As peaceful as the sounds of rain were, you hated some of the after effects due to the downpour. After using the towel to wrap around yourself, you pulled back the shower curtain.

You had a bad feeling. You weren’t sure exactly why but there was just an uneasy feeling filling your stomach. Maybe it was because of the dark? Your hand was grabbing your phone from the counter, turning on the device’s flashlight before you were approaching your bedroom door. For once in the night, there was silence. Maybe your noisy neighbors finally went down for the night.

The spooky ambience really added on to the Halloween feel, however you weren’t too fond of it tonight. Even in the safety of your apartment, you felt like someone was watching you. Using the handy flashlight feature and safely navigating back to your bedroom, you were contemplating for a few moments before closing your bedroom door, locking it for another sense of security.

Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, you were trying to convince yourself that you were nervous for no reason. Nobody could get in. You locked the front door and now your bedroom door, you were safe.

“It’s probably a good thing you locked the door. Could you imagine who can come in at any time?” A disguised voice sounded from the other side of the room, making your heart fall to your stomach. “For an FBI profiler, you aren’t very observant.” You didn’t dare turn around, body paralyzed in fear. “You’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” You asked, voice as steady as you could get it when there was a laugh behind you. “No. I’m not gonna kill you. Not if you listen to everything you’re told.” Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut from fear.

“Now,” The feeling of the gloved hand against your back made you flinch, however it was like the delicate touch was attempting to soothe you. “Turn around and look at me, hmm? Let me see that pretty face.” You had the mind to deny it, to say no and try and attempt to run, even if you wouldn’t get far. However, you wanted to stay alive, so your body was slowly turning around. “There she is.” The masked figure sighed in content, right hand gripping a blade as the opposite was coming up to pull the mask off.

Your eyes widened, the tears still pouring from the corners and soaking your face. Elle Greenaway was standing in front of you, looking at you with an undeniable hunger in her eye.

You hadn’t seen her in years, not after she lost her job and she was forced out. “Is this a joke?” You asked first and foremost. Surely it was an unfunny practical joke that your ex coworker was putting on. However she made it painfully clear that it wasn’t when the blade in her hand was brought to your neck. “Wait!” You rushed, still frozen from fear while you could hear shuffling from another area of your apartment. This was beyond your bedroom door. “He takes forever. Fuck. He almost missed the fun!” Elle commented, now using her knife to nick your flesh while watching the slow stream of blood trickle down your skin, smiling with satisfaction before leaning forward. You didn’t know what to expect but when you felt her tongue lap over the crimson fluid from your skin, you could feel your cheeks flushing.

Were you really turned on right now?

You didn’t have much time to question it as the woman took the opportunity of you being lost in your own thoughts to move you and unlock your bedroom door. “About time,” She scoffed, making the masked figure stop as he realized she had taken her mask off. “What the hell?” He asked immediately, not having time to stop Elle from yanking the mask off of his head as well.

You could’ve expected anyone else in the world but when you saw Spencer’s wide eyes from beyond the mask, you could feel your blood run cold. You’d told Spencer all of your plans for tonight just for him to make plans to break into your apartment? You could only assume he was going to kill you and the amount of betrayal that consumed you was enough to throw you into the pits of hell without needing to be murdered first. “Look at her! We can’t hurt her. Besides, she’s already so graciously agreed to celebrate the holiday with us tonight. I feel like we deserve a trick-or-treat break.” She began while smirking as the dots were soon being connected by Spencer as he nodded slowly. “Are we sure this is a good idea? Keeping her alive keeps a giant target on our backs since you got the bright idea to show our faces.” He grumbled. “I’ve been to prison once before and I promise you that I would rather die than end up in there again.” He said in a simple tone, making his partner wave him off. “I don’t think we will have a problem with her. Besides, the goal was to catch her in the shower but someone showed up too late.”

You were silent as you’d realized your vulnerable state, wrapped up in only a towel that you’d managed to squeeze tighter around your body. This was insane. “You two are fucking nuts.” As quickly as you found your voice, you were losing it again the moment you had the blade pressed against your throat again. “Watch your fucking mouth.” Elle spat while her intense gaze had you squeezing your thighs together. Being with two profilers, albeit one former, it wasn’t hard for them to notice the way your pupils were blown out, face flushed, the way your grip on the towel was turning your knuckles white.

“Are you really turned on right now?” Spencer asked, a thick tension clouding the room as he was moving closer to you, eyes trailing to the knife in Elle’s hand while he was pulling his out soon after. Holding it up in front of your face, he raised an eyebrow. “You like the idea of getting fucked by people trying to kill you?” He was amused, making you blush from embarrassment. “She’s a whore. You should’ve seen her reaction when I licked her neck earlier.” Elle added soon after, both of their intense gazes making you want to fall to your knees.

As the woman in front of you dragged the tip of the knife from your neck to your shoulder, she sighed in content. “Try it. It’s fun. I think she gets off on the idea of you cutting her, marking her like she’s only ours.” She hummed, watching as Spencer nodded, although his blade was rested under your chin, using a light push to tilt your head up to face him. “You like my knife? Even though I could kill you with it?” He asked, his honey colored eyes hidden behind the cloud of lust overshadowing the beautiful irises. As he let the blade trail from your chin to your neck, his eyes were fixated on your face, watching as you let your eyes flutter shut.

“What kind of slut likes this shit? You really are a whore.” He spat. This wasn’t a side of Spencer that you ever thought you’d see, however you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He applied more pressure, the blade breaking the skin as he ran it down your neck to your shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to scar, however the sight of your blood covering your skin had his cock stirring in his pants. Like Elle, Spencer had leaned forward to lap up the metallic fluid. He did something a little different though. “Open your mouth.” He grumbled, the mix of your blood and his spit sitting on his tongue. You obliged, mouth open as you had stuck your tongue out as well, which earned a chuckle from the woman watching the scene.

Spencer spit the mixture into your mouth, his free hand forcing your mouth closed while giving you no choice but to swallow it. The act had your cunt clenching around nothing, arousal building in your stomach. “She listens well. We might have to keep her alive after all.” The woman mused while the man in front of you was putting the handle weapon in his mouth, quickly ripping the towel off of your exposed body while grinning around the black handle. Taking it from his mouth, the knife was soon back in Spencer’s hand and running down the valley of your breasts, your breathing picking up from the adrenaline.

He really could gut you like a fish right now but here he is, dragging the knife over your flushed flesh while smirking. Your pussy was glistening from how wet you’d been from this whole encounter.

The knife was dragging down your stomach, then dropping to your thighs as he traced it over your inner thigh. Your mouth was agape, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Let’s see how good that cunt is, hmm?” Elle finally commented, getting bored of only watching as she was flipping her knife around, hand moving to hold the blade while she was dropping to her knees in front of you. “She’s soaking wet, Spencer. Look at this.” The woman taunted, the male dropping to his knees as well while leaving you blushing.

You were anticipating what move they would make next. What you weren’t expecting was for the blunt handle of the knife to tap against your swollen clit, making your eyes widen. “It’s not that big.” Elle commented, laughing as her free hand was moving to spread your labia apart, looking at your desperate hole attempting to clench around nothing as she sighed in content.

“Let’s give that greedy pussy what she wants.” She’d commented, pushing the end of the knife into your cunt, a grin on your face as your desperate hole was eagerly sucking the weapon in. As her hand was moving slowly to fuck you with the knife, you were left to be a whining mess. This was fucked. You should’ve been terrified, ready to fight back even though you knew you’d die. Instead, you were getting pounded with the handle of a knife while being reduced to a moaning and whining mess. The unholy sounds of your pussy squelching around the knife was enough to make things progress quite quickly.

Cruelly, Elle was taking stopping her actions and ultimately tossing the knife on the floor, a huff of displeasure leaving your lips from the emptiness. “Don’t you huff at me. You know, you don’t deserve this.” She spat, her head moving closer to your core as her tongue swiped over your clit with a soft hum, grinning once you’d gripped her hair. “That’s right. Gonna fuck this desperate cunt with my tongue, bet you want that so bad.” Her words were low, her hands resting against your thighs as her tongue was sliding along your slit, collecting every ounce of your essence that you were happy to let her drink up and savor.

“Oh fuck,” You panted, feeling the woman waste no time as her tongue was pistoning your slick hole with no remorse, as if you were the piece of candy she’d gotten for wearing such a clever costume tonight. Spencer had already discarded his robe by that point, palming his hard cock in his pants as he watched the scene go down in front of him.

Her tongue was massaging your inner walls, your moans in sync as she was slurping and sucking at your desperate cunt. She knew exactly what she was doing, her attention moving to your clit while she was sliding two fingers into your cunt without warning. It was enough to make you grip her hair and attempt to shove her face deeper. With her middle and ring fingers, she was scissoring your cunt as she curled them deep inside of you, your walls spasming around her fingers as you could feel your arousal building. The first orgasm you had was powerful, the way you gripped tightly onto Elle while desperately rocking your hips and whimpering softly.

Spencer was humming as he glanced at the woman beside him, her mouth wet with your cum and arousal as she was pulling back after licking up your mess from your cunt and thighs. “Alright. I feel like it’s my turn. That’s fair, right?” He questioned, although he wasn’t delving into your cunt, no, he was pushing himself to stand. “On your knees.” He murmured, hands working on his belt before undoing it, eventually pushing his pants down his legs as he kicked them off. You were mesmerized, seeing the outline of his cock that was being constricted in his boxers.

He hadn’t forgotten about your love of his knife though, kneeling down briefly to retrieve it while slowly running it down your cheek. “You don’t deserve to get fucked by me yet.” He murmured, eyebrows raised as you were seemingly not even listening to him, your hands moving to the waistband of his boxers to tug them down. Watching his cock slap against his stomach had an involuntary moan falling from your lips. “Yeah, figured you’d be a cockslut. Go on then.” He murmured, hand gripping your hair as he was leading you to his cock that was standing at attention. As soon as the tip was pushed past your lips, Spencer gave you a few seconds to get a rhythm going as you were sucking at his dick. However, he was frustrated at just how slow paced you were. That was when he took matters into his own hands, keeping his tight grip on your hair as he was roughly thrusting into your mouth.

The sudden intrusion had you gagging, tears brimming your eyes while you were staring up at Spencer through your eyelashes. “Fuck. That’s right. You look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth. Take it like a champ.” He grunted, hips snapping as you were reduced to gagging, moaning, and whining while attempting to bob your head in time with his thrusts. It didn’t work out that way. Spencer craved control, that was why he even worked with Elle in the first place. He’d spent years being the shy guy who had no idea what to do or wanted to hold back. Now however, he had no remorse as he had you crying from him fucking your throat raw. Much to your dismay, you were being roughly yanked off of his cock by your hair.

“There’s no way in hell that I’m wasting my cum in your mouth. You’re gonna have to take it in that desperate little pussy of yours. Bet you’d like the idea of me filling you up, marking you as mine. You know.. I bet you’d like me to fuck my load deep inside of you, get you pregnant? Then what would you do? You’d be stuck with me.” He smirked. He did like the idea of that. The idea of you being quiet and keeping him and Elle safe due to the fact you were filled with his child? It was enough to make his cock twitch.

“Get up. Get on the bed.” He ordered. He could order you around but he knew Elle wouldn’t follow his instructions. “Why don’t you sit on her face? Keep her whore mouth shut so the neighbors don’t think she’s getting murdered in here.” He suggested, the woman not needing to be told twice as she was shedding off her robe along with her pants and panties, not wasting any time to roughly shove your body back into your bed. “Gonna suffocate you with my pussy. I bet you would like that, wouldn’t you? To go out desperately licking and sucking on my cunt?” Elle and Spencer were both filthy talkers. That was for damn sure.

With your body falling against the plush mattress, you barely had time to react before the other woman was setting herself over your face. “I can’t wait to make a mess out of that pretty face.” She mused, waiting for Spencer to get situated before the two shared a glance while the male was getting between your legs, his hand coming down to give your pussy a smack while eliciting a squeak out of you. The sting hurt a little too good, the male taking note as he gave two more smacks before his hand was gripping his cock. He gave himself a few lazy tugs before getting situated, his cock slowly pushing into you. As much as he would’ve loved to split you open, he wasn’t planning on killing you nor seriously hurting you. His generosity was appreciated, even if that generosity didn’t last all too long.

The minute you had Elle’s soaked cunt hovering over your face, your hands were gripping her thighs as your tongue was flicking over her clit, relishing in the hint of her sweet essence. It wasn’t too long for her to take control though, all her weight being put onto your face as she was rolling her hips against your mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer had pulled out and roughly slammed into your pussy again.

Both of the people you feared so much earlier were using you like a fuck toy, Spencer pounding deep into your cunt while Elle was riding your tongue as you attempted to tongue fuck her, however the moans being muffled into her warmth from the assault on your pussy made it just a little difficult to focus. “Fuck. I think we may have to keep her locked up. Use this little whore for whatever we need her for. Especially after these stressful fucking days.” Spencer panted out.

Your body was nothing more than a toy, begging to be used and abused by the two psychopaths who seemingly pulled you into their spell.

Your second and final orgasm of the night was building with each rough thrust that Spencer granted you with, your face a mess from the sounds of you licking and sucking at Elle’s desperate pussy, the other woman moaning and demanding more out of you, as if that were possible. “Fuck. Wanna be filled with my cum, slut? I promise that you’re gonna be mine. Gonna mark you the only way I know how.” The feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around his cock was all he needed, ropes or his cum painting your inner walls, you were pretty sure he painted your womb just as much. Pulling his softening cock out of you, he was inspecting the damage. Your pretty cunt was glistening, cum just begging to come out as it ran down your inner thighs and onto your bedsheets.

As your tongue was lapping and desperately sucking at the woman’s clit, it wasn’t long until you could feel her creamy arousal paint your mouth area, even rubbing down to your neck as she was pushing her body off of you to fall back against the mattress. You were beyond fucked out, eyes closing as your chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace as you made an effort to catch your breath. “You know..” Elle began while glancing at Spencer, who’d already been pulling his clothes back on.

“I feel like you’re onto something with us taking her.” She commented, the two looking down at you as if they were predators and you were their helpless prey.

“Oh. She’s definitely coming with us.”

THIS spencer def likes his girls curvy with plushy thighs and a fat ass. THIS spencer is the kind to playfully hump you when you're bent down to grab something. THIS spencer likes you sitting on his lap because he's obsessed with the way your weight settles down onto him and makes him feel warm and cozy. THIS spencer slaps your ass when you walk by him. THIS spencer goes crazy when he sees the stretch marks on your hips because youre just so yummy and thick. Argue with the wall!

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 ˎˊ˗

hiii! since it's getting close to october- that means kinktober season! this is my first ever kinktober event, so don't be too mean to me...stay alert for updates! if you want to be apart of my taglist for this event- reply down below !

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ ˎˊ˗

- minors dni! for others- please read the warnings and tags before reading.

- all fics will be dom!male!character x sub!fem!reader. don't like, don't read!

- all characters i write for are 18+ and consenting adults!!!

- all posts relating to this years kinktober event will be tagged as 'atar's kinktober '24'

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ˎˊ˗

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴏɴᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟷.

praise kink | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, porn without plot

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟹.

exhibitionism | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, degradation, name calling (whore), porn without plot

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟻.

period sex | rafe cameron x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, porn without plot, unprotected sex, mentions of period blood

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟽.

thigh riding | aaron hotchner x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, thigh riding, praising, porn without plot

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟿.

voyeurism | jj maybank x inexperienced!fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, voyeurism, groping, fingering, praise

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟷.

body worship | james potter x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟹.

squirting | fred weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟻.

mirror sex | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟽.

blindfold/sensory deprivation | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟿.

dacryphilia | john b routledge x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғᴏᴜʀ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟷.

mutual masterbation | george weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟹.

breeding kink | aaron hotchner x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟻.

innocence/corruption kink | john b routledge x jj maybank x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғɪᴠᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟽.

desperation | fred weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟿.

phone sex | aaron hotchner x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟹𝟷.

chair sex | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+,

layout inspo/creds to: gogogodzilla and sytoran

Distracted?| S.R

Summary: Reader gets a little too focused on how veiny and bony Spencer's hands are.

Pairing:Enemy! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content warning: fluff, sexual imprecations, enemy! Spencer, (i think that's about it?)

Word count:1.4k!!!

Author's Note: well this is my first prompt and very fun and hope you all enjoy it!!

Being stuck on a plane with the person you hate the most isn't exactly in your best interest, you just got done with a case down in Iowa and we're planning to relax as you were genuinely fucking exhausted from it, I mean chasing the unsub through multiple alley ways was quite the workout and for an hour straight. You sat comfortably in the plane seat reading a romance novel while munching on some swedish fish, but as always Spencer had to come ruin your peace because he sat right next to you, you narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him with a frown “can't you just sit with like Rossi or something?” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear as he grinned at you “im good and I prefer sitting here actually ”

you just place your swedish fish on the table and continue reading as you look up from your book once again seeing Emily and Rossi sitting down across from you, “Em, you up for a girl's night?” you said smiling slightly “depends on where because last time we all blacked out and woke up in a homeless shelter” she said laughing at the last part, “hey it wasn't my fault that you got so drunk plus it was fun!” “yeah until we almost got arrested.” you just giggled muttering a ‘whoopsies’.

After around thirty minutes you put down your book sighing, you just looked around the plane for anything at all to do that's when you noticed Spencer's furrowed eyebrows and his hands and how they laid on his encyclopedia, how his long bony fingers pressed against it slightly and his middle and ring finger connected you began to wonder how they would feel curled up inside you as you were moaning his name-

“hello?” Emily called to you as you snapped your head towards her now facing her with slight blush on your face, “sorry what were you saying” you gulped avoiding her eyes “I was asking if you were okay because you seemed kind of well” just as she opened her mouth to say something, you feel Spencer hot breath against your ear “I think she means distracted.” he said in a low voice and you turn your head towards him with his face being mere inches away your breath hitched. “spencer.”

You said almost warning him as he studied your face just as the tension was getting higher you heard Emily clear her throat and you both turned to look at her, “What exactly were you distracted by?” she questions, you feel your face burn up as you slowly take a breath “uhm that's for you to never find out” just then Spencer's voice cuts in again “my hands. She was staring at them but my question is why?” he turned to you once again his eyes lowering to your chest and back to your face, “I uhm, your hands are very nice and I totally wasn't fantasizing about them” you quickly said then realized what you said and mentally smacked yourself just as Rossi and Emily began laughing, I mean it totally slipped out you didn't mean to say it.

Spencer smirked at you “you can use them as a necklace if you want ” he said quietly

“wait what?!” you said

The end!

Distracted?| S.R

Summary: Reader gets a little too focused on how veiny and bony Spencer's hands are.

Pairing:Enemy! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content warning: fluff, sexual imprecations, enemy! Spencer, (i think that's about it?)

Word count:1.4k!!!

Author's Note: well this is my first prompt and very fun and hope you all enjoy it!!

Being stuck on a plane with the person you hate the most isn't exactly in your best interest, you just got done with a case down in Iowa and we're planning to relax as you were genuinely fucking exhausted from it, I mean chasing the unsub through multiple alley ways was quite the workout and for an hour straight. You sat comfortably in the plane seat reading a romance novel while munching on some swedish fish, but as always Spencer had to come ruin your peace because he sat right next to you, you narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him with a frown “can't you just sit with like Rossi or something?” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear as he grinned at you “im good and I prefer sitting here actually ”

you just place your swedish fish on the table and continue reading as you look up from your book once again seeing Emily and Rossi sitting down across from you, “Em, you up for a girl's night?” you said smiling slightly “depends on where because last time we all blacked out and woke up in a homeless shelter” she said laughing at the last part, “hey it wasn't my fault that you got so drunk plus it was fun!” “yeah until we almost got arrested.” you just giggled muttering a ‘whoopsies’.

After around thirty minutes you put down your book sighing, you just looked around the plane for anything at all to do that's when you noticed Spencer's furrowed eyebrows and his hands and how they laid on his encyclopedia, how his long bony fingers pressed against it slightly and his middle and ring finger connected you began to wonder how they would feel curled up inside you as you were moaning his name-

“hello?” Emily called to you as you snapped your head towards her now facing her with slight blush on your face, “sorry what were you saying” you gulped avoiding her eyes “I was asking if you were okay because you seemed kind of well” just as she opened her mouth to say something, you feel Spencer hot breath against your ear “I think she means distracted.” he said in a low voice and you turn your head towards him with his face being mere inches away your breath hitched. “spencer.”

You said almost warning him as he studied your face just as the tension was getting higher you heard Emily clear her throat and you both turned to look at her, “What exactly were you distracted by?” she questions, you feel your face burn up as you slowly take a breath “uhm that's for you to never find out” just then Spencer's voice cuts in again “my hands. She was staring at them but my question is why?” he turned to you once again his eyes lowering to your chest and back to your face, “I uhm, your hands are very nice and I totally wasn't fantasizing about them” you quickly said then realized what you said and mentally smacked yourself just as Rossi and Emily began laughing, I mean it totally slipped out you didn't mean to say it.

Spencer smirked at you “you can use them as a necklace if you want ” he said quietly

“wait what?!” you said

The end!