#but yes i want to explore it further

[quynhorlose]

if you wouldn’t mind, can u tell us more about the mute regulus aspect of the fic?

yes gladly!! (i assume this is about what i teased a whiiiile ago lmao)

so, i do this thing that a lot of fic writers do where i tend to project onto characters. with sirius, the plant thing and with mary, my struggles with religion (you’ll see this one soon). with regulus, well.

i see myself in him a lot more than i think either of us would like 😭 i’m a younger sibling (and adopted to boot) and i struggled with a lot of the things he has. so when it came to trying to piece him together in this upcoming fic… i’ve had selective mutism since i was a very small child. it’s part of the second half of fight/flight that we don’t talk about enough. fight, fight, fawn and freeze.

i think all four of them get a bad rap; fight is misunderstood as recklessness, flight is misunderstood as cowardice, fawn as compliance and freeze as incompetence.

but really, it’s just. it’s the body’s way of protecting itself. clamming up. disassociation, in a way.

for a long time, it was just me floating through my own life like a ghost. and i think with regulus, being that younger child with such a loud sibling in such a quiet house and witnessing the things he witnessed—it’s not impossible for me to see where he may have slipped into the instinct in the same way i did.

we talk about survival instinct a lot when we talk about sirius and regulus. it’s really easy to pin sirius down as flight and fight. regulus, i think, embodies both fawn and freeze for a large part of his journey. i think it’s really important that as we recognize the path that he took, we recognize other damage it might have done. other ways to cope.

i also see regulus as an observer! i think he’s got a way of reading people that sirius/others may not. and that’s something that grows from just. watching. i’ve got hints at this throughout the growth fic:

but beyond the fact that regulus doesn’t waste words, isn’t chatty, etc., i think the idea of him living without them at all for a time is worth exploring. especially if it means getting to process my own growing up through the magic of fic.

though this one won’t be out for a while! i’ve still got the band fic, bike fic and breakdown fic to get through.

[shapelytimber]

not sure if you've answered this before but for the sapphic au... how did leia and luke get made if their parents are both cis ? are they force babies, created by anakin meddling with the force just as sidious did and thereby killing padme? or maybe they just went to star wars sperm bank idk. desperately curious to see if you have an explanation in mind or if they just kind of popped into existence (sorry I just get wrapped up in silly details with everything)

Oh am I glad you asked !

Only hole in my flawless explanation..... There is no way in hell Anakin in topping regularly in this relationship. So gotta assume the moment they tried to switch it up a bit they got magic stap babies.

[lordichamo]

Artist's process

[gomzdrawfr]

What does Raven think about our favorite Russian pilot?

She’s tempted to join Chimera :3 Price’s not having it though pft

Many thoughts, not organized below

Not too sure yet cuz I suck at writing relationships

Raven had clocked it the moment she met Nikolai—the way his gaze lingered on Price, the faint trace of something more in his easy humor. It didn’t really bother her, not in the way she thought it might—well I mean, it left her feeling a little guilty, knowing Nikolai had likely been at Price’s side far longer than she had.

She’d recognize longing and yearning, sees the way Nik looked a lil disappointed when Price proudly squeezed her waist.

But there was no tension, no competition or bad blood. As always, Nikolai treated her with nothing but respect, and frankly overtime she noticed Nik hovering nearby and stepping before her whenever, protecting in some ways? Because anyone close to Price was under Nik’s protection by default.

Raven quietly thanks Nik for what he did after being comfortable enough, maybe apologize here and there, but Nik just brushed it off, ruffling her hair, maybe saying something like he won’t interfere or is glad with who Price ended up with…what’s the c word— a camamaride??camaredderie?? Thing— they reached the c word in terms of keeping the same goal, which is to keep Price safe

That said, Nik definitely tried to teach Raven how to fly a helicopter and nearly got Price a heart attack (cuz well she’s a shiet driver, and she tilts the helicopter like she’s drunk— “cuz G force is irrelevant”)

On multiple occasions, Nik yaps about Chimera, the more she listens the more she’s tempted. Though Price always gets grumpy about it (Price is just protective and wants Raven close to her at all times)

Eh well, Nik also shared baby pics and embarrassing baby John moments with Raven as mentioned, also Nik definitely spoils Raven whenever he get to yoink her away

[snowyh2o]

The question isn’t about whether or not Alastor cares or if he’s actually attached. The question is, is that attachment he has stronger than his desire to go through with his plans.

[devilbeez]

Okay I love hazbin hotel, I really do. I love the characters, I love the song. But I’m willing to admit that it have flaws and one of it being the pacing.

And ngl I think I found out why and it’s because numerous reason

Production. When Hazbin got confirmed for season 1 for all we could know the team only know that they get 8 episodes and that’s it. They don’t know about season 2 yet so either they got confirmed for season 2 when season 1 already out into work to the point there no fixing the script, or season 1 is don’t in production stage going to post when season 2 is confirmed. Giving benefit of the doubt there’s a certain panic to explain everything to the fandom so it’s just plot point after plot point being stuffed in one season without time to breathe.

Episode. This involved with the previous reason because if you happen to live under a rock, for some reason there seem to be a trend in shorten episodes seasons. It went from 26-25 to 12-15 and now less than 10. There’s not enough time to develop a character to the fullest. It seem rush because with the pressure from fandom and the uncertainty of confirmed seasons.

Lastly, it written like a musical but have TV show concepts. I feel like this is most confusing and might just be me so lemme explain. Hazbin hotel from ep 1 to 6 feel like a one whole musical where they kinda have to rush it a little? Cause musicals usually have 2 Maybe 3 hours and 40-50% of it are songs so you have to rush throughout the dialogue a little bit and let songs expressed the characters the most. I feel like this is what the show been doing, it rush through the dialogue and development to throw all the emotions we supposed to feel in songs and don’t get me wrong if it have one theme, one major problem like a musical it would work. However, Hazbin have all these problems, heaven forces, Lilith and Alastor sudden disappearance, the Vees, Angel’s arc, Charlie’s arc etc etc it all isn’t a minor problems like “oh these kids wanna be respected and accepted as they are” in School of rock or “this demigod lost his mojo” like in Moana. These problems are all main problem worthy and most of the time tv series have time to deal with this. Maybe one season address one of those problems, maybe one season have 2 main problems for first and later half. And so when you have musical writing with mostly songs where you need to have concise story but instead have tv series concept with multiple arcs what you get is a story that feel rush

This have been my tedtalk

[thewhizzyhead]

I know the reunion concert was literally just 2 days ago but my bros my guys my dudes I miss WATT so so much and I really do want this show Actually Revived because I miss my cheerleaders, pma's stories and music are fucking great and I wanna hear more, watt has so much room for improvement, and I wanna see watt thrive aaaaaaaa

[teasel-backatitagain]

Thinking about her (Karina Braun)

[pynkhues]

"I honestly think both in terms of fic for the show itself and for RPF, it's about race"

Ah, I wasn't expecting this, which as a brown woman is incredibly naive of me.

There's currently discourse on X about Louis being the most "boring" character which is also, undoubtedly, driven by racism.

(x)

Oh, I'm really sorry, anon, and you shouldn't feel naive. I mean, for starters, I could be wrong, and I'm being pretty speculative, but even if I'm right, the onerous of that isn't, or at least shouldn't be, on you. I think there's a lot of really great progressive things that happen in fandom, but at the same time fandom is created by People Living in Societies, and unfortunately biases and discrimination, at least in my experience, can and do seep through in ways that are both toxic and just flat out negligent.

The idea of Louis being boring is absolutely an insane and racist rhetoric too. He is so wildly interesting as a character, with so many layers of storytelling and nuance and contradiction, which I adore in him, and it makes me wonder if the people who find him boring are the same ones who want to make him the audience insert (insane given Daniel is literally right there) or to project all this 'battered housewife' narrative onto him, which - - look.

I've tried to shrug this off, but I literally just spent the entire day at a symposium on how the Australian government child support system is weaponised by abusive men against women post-divorce, so I'm a bit of a raw nerve about this topic, but it's made me even more pissed off at the Louis-Housewife arguments than normal.

Not only is it diminishing and completely at odds with his character, but what a way to show you've never, ever engaged with real survivors of, or conversations with, patriarchal oppression.

[widevibratobitch]

Red Pill Misogyny But Make It Funny: The Opera my beloved <333

[kakushusband]

Not to get too #deep but revisiting arlong park I forgot the very first human we see interacting with them thinks they're repulsive but tolerable since they pay well. I hate hate hate fantasy racism with a passion but it's easy to tell the world is Not kind to them and sees them as lesser

[fayevalcntine]

I wonder how they'll handle Claudia's relationship with her own physique in season 2 cause some of the hints I've seen so far tell me it may be a theme. The baby doll blue dress on stage (and when she meets Madeleine) vs the red Carmen dress in one of the posters? How exactly will the coven take to her? Will they accept her for the adult that she is or thrust her into the role of vampire child? Even Louis' somewhat assured/defensive comment of "She's managed through it", when we very well know that she did confront him on his decision to have her turned without considering what the consequences would be for her. He can reassure himself that she may manage 'just fine' with it, but I'm not so sure if that's the case from Claudia's perspective.

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

raven with a distinct, but unplaceable accent. dure it may sound *similar* to this or that, but its not quite anything anyone has heard before...

[frankensteincest]

idk what’s going to happen with a resurrected Brona Croft but from what was shown of Frankenstein beginning the process, he uses her entire body. I think he did the same for Caliban and Proteus, and the stitches on their head is just him jump starting the brains. which is a shame bc book!Frankenstein assembling his Creature from assorted parts from various bodies + Proteus gaining random memories and habits from his received brain but possibly a different personality was where the story was. for me

[astralmarionette]

thinking abt the shitty characterization of fitzgerald in bsd again. maybe i need to do a complete rewrite of the entire fucking story.

[reidrum]

wine or wine not | s.r

spencer reid x bau!reader

a/n: i think i love writing buildup to smut than actual smut, but i hope you guys like this lmk what you think. this was requested with the prompts "look at me when you come on my fingers" and "muttering compliments kissing down their body" and it was so much fun to write aaaaahh, my requests are open so please send more!!! guidelines in pinned <3

summary: you're hopelessly pining after spencer at a rossi party, and when you run into him in the kitchen when you're getting a refill and he asks if you want to explore the mansion with him, who are you to say no?

cw: 18+ minors dni pls, fingering, p in v, nipple play, soft!dom!spence, spencer being ridiculously hot its criminal, ooc penelope but it was for the plot, pining idiots, wine cellar sex wine cellar sex wine cellar sex, public sex, morgan and prentiss being dumb, rossi being a smug lil shit, a dumb ass title sorry i didn't know what else to name it lol

wc: 4.1k

★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★・・・・★

these days rossi was always finding some reason to throw a party at his mansion. you’re not exactly sure what it was tonight, a birthday? an anniversary? regardless, you and the team appreciated the excuse to unwind, dress up, and have non murder related fun.

the sun is setting over the rolling hills the mansion is perched on, and you’re sat at a table with the girls— penelope, jj, and emily discussing penelope’s latest dating escapade. you’re trying hard to pay attention, you really are, but it proves to be difficult when you’re focused on the man showing magic tricks to the kids across the room.

you look on yearnfully as spencer pulls a coin from jack’s ear, all the kids are laughing and cheering and he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hellooo?” penelope waves a hand in front of you dramatically, “i’m getting to the good part and you’re off in space!”

you jolt back to the present, “sorry pen, i’m listening i promise. so he shows up to your door with maple syrup and feathers?”

“YES, anyways so then he’s like i have a proposition for you…” penelope continues her story but you can’t help but zone out again. your eyes drift back to boy genius as he finishes another trick for little henry before rising up to his full height. it’s in that moment his eyes meet yours and softens as he offers you a small wave. 

you return the gesture back which causes the girls at your table to look in the same direction and they come to a glaring conclusion too quickly.

“ah, that’s why you’re not paying attention. too busy ogling mr. houdini over there.” jj remarks.

“i am not!” you scoff.

“oh you so are,” emily says, “when are you going to let yourself feel your heart’s full content.”

“first of all, i can’t stand you. second of all, it’s not worth it. he would never feel the same about me.” you say as emily rolls her eyes.

this time penelope interjected, “oh don’t be so cynical. you haven’t even tried how could you even know?”

but you did know. it’s not that spencer didn’t like you, he treated you the same as any team member, but that was just it. you wanted him to see you as more. during cases you would try to impress him or make breakthroughs in the hopes he would tell you ‘good job’. a couple times you brought him coffee when you got yours, just to hear him say your name and thanks. work conversations rarely seemed to move past small talk, but you’re a little sure that’s on your part because he just made you so nervous. and like, he’s a profiler. so you’re sure to some degree he knows how you feel, and it just makes you regress into your safe hole even further because you think he’s being nice by not acknowledging it and saving you the embarrassment.

the girls knew about your harbored crush for a month now, since the last bau drinks night you got a little too truthful during truth or dare. you were much younger in comparison to your colleagues, so they offered their sympathies at your unrequited love and tried to get you to come out more and let loose.

which is one of the reasons you’re sitting in rossi’s living room, wine glass in hand, as morgan recounts the craziest date hes ever been on. the other reason, which you wouldn’t admit to anyone, was so you could admire your (not) lover from an acceptable distance and not risk embarrassing yourself.

so here you are, two glasses deep, rising up from your spot on the floor telling everyone you’re going to get a refill. your heels click against the hardwood floors all the way to the kitchen where you just so luckily run into the (your) man of the hour.

“hi.”

you were looking down at your feet as you walked to the kitchen, your head snapping up to meet the voice, “hi spencer.” you said softly.

“if you’re looking for more wine, i think emily just grabbed the last bottle,” you must have outwardly deflated as he continued, “that bad out there?”

“only so much wine can get me through penelope’s sexcapades and derek’s crazy one night stands.” you joke.

he chuckles back, “oh i know, why do you think i’m hiding out in here?”

you laugh again before an uncomfortable yet strangely comfortable silence falls between you both. unknowingly you both take turns gazing at each other, indexing the others features as if this moment would be the only chance you got.

you’re about to take your loss and leave when spencer speaks up again, “you know, i wouldn’t put it past rossi to have a secret wine cellar somewhere.”

“honestly, you’re probably right. what kind of italian just runs out of wine.”

spencer pauses slightly before saying, “do you want to see if we can find it?”

you look at his eyes again and catch a glint of mischief? concern that you’re wine-less? whatever it is, you take the bait.

“i’m game.”

—

rossi’s mansion was humongous. it was well known that he was loaded from his years in the bureau and multiple book deals, but holy shit, the rooms just seemed never ending, and none of them were a wine cellar.

“i don’t know spence, i'm starting to lose hope, and debating to revoke rossi’s italian card.”

you’re both in one of the many studies and are about to leave to find another room, when spencer notices a smaller door next to the study. he slowly opens it and peaks inside to find a descending wooden staircase. he looks at you with a smirk, “i think we just found it.”

he holds the door open and gestures you to enter first, following shortly behind you as he shuts the door. he makes sure to check that it’ll still open even after it’s shut, and you both relax a little seeing it still unlock. you move down the stairs, gripping the handrail and praying you don’t trip over your heels and fall to an embarrassing demise.

spencer descends a step behind you, trying so hard not to let his eyes wander down your bare back to the curve of your hips. once he steps off you both go in opposite directions to explore. you take in the vast amount of shelves and wine racks, taking note of how it seems to be separated by year and by type. running your fingers over the labels, you’re intrigued by a shelf with the year you were born, and pause in front of it. you reach up to a shelf that is just a smidge taller than you, hoping to grab the neck of an old wine bottle.

even in your heels you’re struggling, attempting little hops to try and reach. you’re about to give up when you feel a warm hand on your right hip, while an outstretched arm on your left seamlessly grabs the bottle and brings it down to you, “careful sweetheart, don’t wanna break that pretty head of yours.” spencer says lowly.

excuse me, what the fuck did he just say.

you inspect the bottle he so kindly brought down for you, but it’s a futile effort. you can’t even remember why you wanted to see it. all you can think about is your hands clamming up, sending threats to the wine bottle it’s holding. your mind is fogging up fast, and you’re trying to order your brain to say something instead of going mute while he’s still an inch behind you. with his hand on your hip still.

“oh god,” you start shakily, “you scared me spence.” you angle your body to the left so you can attempt to show how unbothered you are and look at his face.

good save (not).

he’s staring down at you with a hint of a smirk on his lips, like he’s keeping a secret from you. his eyes are intently focused on you when he speaks again, “just didn’t want you to get hurt. s’all.”

with his close proximity, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating through both of your chests, hell it was so loud they could probably hear it upstairs. he’s still got you caged in front of him when he continues, “any particular reason for this bottle?”

“yeah no, i just, wanted to see what bottles of wine he had from the year i was born.” you answer, watching as spencer moves back to give you space when you turn to face him.

he nods, “did you know that wine is associated with the greek god dionysus?”

“no i didn’t, actually.”

“it’s really interesting,” he moves forward a tiny inch, “they call him the patron god of wine, but a lot of people often forget that he’s also the god of fertility and ecstasy.”

oh. “ecstasy?” you whisper confusingly.

“yes, he believes when you drink wine it gives you emotional and physical pleasure.”

“how does that even work?” you nervously laugh.

spencer reaches his arm above your head, never breaking eye contact, and grabs two wine glasses by their stems, “you wanna find out?”

with only so many words, you give another nod. he uncorks the bottle with ease and pours out two glasses, with his having a little less than yours, most likely due to his slow but steady return to drinking casually. clinking your glasses, you take a big gulp hoping it’ll satiate the building nerves. but you’re watching the way his fingers wrap around the glass, his veiny hand showing prominently and you’re unable to focus on anything else.

“you know, i’ve been running something of an observation the last few months.”

you take another small sip, starting to feel less nervous, “oh yeah, what about?”

“you.”

it took everything in you not to spit your drink out all over his suit. 

“me?”

he nods after another sip, “i’ve been watching you, and not in a creepy way i swear. but i’ve been keeping track of your habits; how you take your coffee, your tells when a case gets too much, things like that,”

that didn’t seem overtly terrible to you, you knew spencer was an observer of his environment, always seeking out patterns to aid his predictions. you’re about to speak when he cuts you off.

“i’ve also been noticing how you seem to change, when i’m in your presence.”

you feel like the sweat and nerves are just oozing out of you at this point, and he continues his verbal taunt.

“i’ve seen your breathing rate get faster,” he moves a step forward, “how your cheeks rise with the faintest red, kind of like right now,” another step forward, “and how you try to avoid looking directly at me because you think i’ll find out everything if you do.”

the room has to be at least a thousand degrees at this point, heart beating so fast it’s probably gone to the moon, and your brain just unable to have any coherent thoughts at the realization that maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought.

he takes one final step to close the gap between you and delicately places two fingers on the pulse point of your neck, “i couldn’t figure out your heart rate from afar,” he pauses to count, “but now that i know it, i can come to my conclusion.”

the air in your lungs has all but escaped, nowhere to be found. “and wh- what is your conclusion d- doctor reid?” your voice betraying you by dripping with anticipation.

“that i make you nervous. do you agree? do i make you nervous?” he says while you feel the hot breath of his whispers ghosting on your lips.

your mouth opens to say something and then shuts, because what the hell are you supposed to say? any and all logic has left the room, but the last working neuron works to make an unthinkable conclusion of your own. there is no way.

spencer moves his fingers to grip your chin between them, guiding your face to look directly into his copper eyes, “i asked you a question angel, do i make you nervous?”

you’re cornered, “y- yes.”

“why’s that?”

“spencer..”

“is it because you’re thinking of me the same way i think i about you?” his thumb starts tracing the outline of your lower jaw. he’s pressed right up against your chest, his other arm covertly moving to snake around your waist. the way you lean in subconsciously towards him, paired with your silence is all the confirmation he needs.

the pad of his thumb traces your lower lip, dragging it downwards a little. there’s a hitch in his breath when his eyes flicker from your lips back up to meet your eyes again. he quietly mumbles, “can i?”

your eyes widen slightly, relishing in the way his arms are holding you firm and steady. this was about to really happen. you’d been pining after him all this time, believing you were destined for unrequited love. but as spencer stands in front of you, looking at you as if he’d been poisoned and the only antidote is your lips, you can’t help but wonder if there’s been a similar weight on his side that’s been holding him back too.

so you nod once again, and trust your voice this time, 

“yes.”

you’re fully expecting him to go into it full force, and kiss you like a man starved. but he lets the premonition bubble for a little longer as he so agonizingly leans down and closes the gap, teasing you with the ghost of his lips on yours without making contact. he waits a moment, and just as he predicted your subconscious betrays you again and you impatiently lean up in an attempt to meet your lips together. spencer can’t help but smile before he softly pressed himself against you.

the feeling of his mouth on yours is something you can only describe as cosmic, like a star exploding into a supernova, emitting a powerful and luminous show of energy. it’s all consuming, the light reaching every neuronal end of your body and electrifying it ten times over. your hands reach up to tangle in his curly hair and he lets out the faintest whimper, spurring you on to grab it more earnestly.

spencer loses all restraint. his hands begin furiously mapping out your body, running up and down your back, reaching down to grasp a handful of your ass. he moves his hands down further to grip your thighs, effortlessly lifting you to sit on the counter behind you. spencer slots himself between your legs and continues kissing you, his mouth marking a hot trail to your neck as he mutters between, “is this okay?”

“please don’t stop.” you moan softly.

his fingers move to deftly slide the straps of your dress off your shoulder, mirroring the movement on the other side while continuing to work his down your neck. he slides the dress far enough down to expose your chest, immediately taking the swollen nub into mouth and running circles around it with his tongue. you let out a sharp gasp at the sudden warmth, whimpers leaving your throat. he repeats the motion to the other one as you cradle his head closer in an attempt to keep him there, as if spencer had any plans of leaving.

he moves his mouth back up to meet yours again, in a lust filled attack sending shock waves straight to your core. you move your fingers to work the buttons of his dress shirt and spencer moves his hand further south and under the hem of your dress, something you don’t notice until his thumbs are rubbing circles onto the plush of your inner thighs. it makes you falter on his last button as he pushes your legs farther apart,  inches closer to where you desperately need him.

spencer looks directly into your eyes as his thumbs reach up to hook onto the side of your panties and slowly move them down your legs. he groans outwardly at the resistance caused by your slickness, “all this for me, baby?”

you’re rendered speechless watching spencer and his ministrations but he continues, “you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” his fingers are less than an inch away from your cunt, “i see you walk around the office in those tight pants, your hair and makeup all done, and those blouses jesus,” he reaches your entrance and dives in to collect your wetness, you brokenly moan as he begins to spread it all over. “couldn’t tell if you hated me for the longest time.”

“c- could never hate you.” you whine.

“i know baby,” he slides his middle finger into your hole, “just imagine the fun we could’ve had if we figured this out earlier. but it’s okay, we have all the time now.” he sets a steady rhythm before inserting his ring finger, actively working you towards a barreling orgasm.

“spencer, fuck, oh god.”

“you’re so fucking wet, bet you’re gonna come soon, right? gonna make a mess on my hand?” he baited.

you’re in shambles, one hand deathly squeezing onto one shoulder the other turning white from the grip you held on the counter. the moans won’t stop falling out of you, he works his fingers so skillfully within you it’s impossible to hold any resolve when he curves upwards and hits that spot.

your head tilts back, reeling from the intense pressure coil building inside you, the peak about to hit you any moment now. spencer uses his free hand to move your head back down, “look at me when you come on my fingers.”

that was all it took for the white hot to ravage through you, engulfing every sense and leaving you breathless. he continues moving his fingers through your orgasm, watching as you come back down to him. you don’t waste a second reaching for his belt to unfasten it, slipping your hand down to palm him through his boxers. he moans in your ear as he feels you slip inside, your small hand moving up and down, and getting impossibly harder when you take your hand back up to spit on it to then return to your movements.

you take the moment to lean into his neck and leave bites of your own, finding his sweet spot right behind his ear and sucking hard. spencer’s hands have taken a spot on your lower back beneath your dress, pressing so hard with his fingertips you know there’ll be evidence of this night tomorrow.

“spence..” you mutter in the crook in the neck.

“yeah baby?” he whispers back.

“can you fuck me now?”

he preens at your boldness, and wastes no time pulling his pants and boxers down enough to fully free himself. he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter before pulling his length out and giving it a few strokes. he lets it glide between your folds, gathering your wetness as lubricant as it hits your clit. both of you are panting hard realizing the anticipation has led to this moment. spencer positions himself at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you, and watches your face drop into a perfect ‘oh’ as he pushes in.

spencer is absolutely wrecked as he hears your breathing pick up, reveling in the vice grip your cunt has on him. you’re no better above him as you’ve broken eye contact to stare at where the two of you connect, watching as he disappears into you and the feeling of being so full overtakes you and you’re letting out soft expletives. he bottoms out and stalls for a minute, waiting for you to signal that you’re okay for him to move. in the time he’s waiting, he takes a moment to really look at your face, how absolutely ruined you look, your cheeks are deeply flushed, hair flying in every direction, and he can’t help but tell you, “you look so pretty.”

your eyes soften as you gaze back at him and nod slightly, and he pulls back all the way to ease in again experimentally. once he hears you moan out loud at the movement, and feels you tighten even more around his cock, he loses any and all restraint he’d been holding onto this entire night.

his hips pick up the pace in harsh snaps to your core, sending ripples of pleasure all over you. your arms are wrapped around his neck attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you, “spencer…fuck…” you drawl with a whine.

“i got you baby, gonna take good care of you, promise,” he says back in between grunts. the sentiment causes you to squeeze on his cock again as he attempts to continue, “if you keep…fuck…keep squeezing me like that i’m n- not gonna last long.”

one hand in his hair and the other leaving dark red scratches on his back, you feel your second orgasm of the night hastily creep up on you. he can tell you’re close and quickens his pace as he thumbs your clit. you moan his name out once more before reaching your peak, feeling like your body is on fire as he continues to fuck you through it. 

spencer feels his own release building up, “wh- where should i..?”

“inside, i’m on the pill just please come inside me.”

it was more than enough for spencer’s movements to stutter as he released his hot load in you, groaning out loud as he finished.

he slows to a half, still hilted inside of you but softening post orgasm. you’re both breathing heavily as you look up at each other and take in the other’s fucked out faces. spencer presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before resting his own on it, “that was..”

“intense,” he quirks his eyebrows at you, “in a really really good way.” you add quickly.

he smiles down at you, “i wasn’t kidding, what i said earlier. i think about you an embarrassingly high amount each day. i’d love to take you out and make this a real thing.”

“yeah?” you gape incredulously, “thought i was the one embarrassing myself if you were able to notice all those things i did when you were near me.”

he laughs, “no, no it was endearing, definitely made it easier to be as forward as i was tonight knowing you wouldn’t freak out.”

you’re about to respond when you hear the door to the cellar open, you’re both hidden from view but know it’s only a matter of seconds before someone catches you. you both look at each other in panic as spencer pulls out of you, tucking himself back in and zipping up his pants. you grab your panties from the floor and begin to pull them up your legs when he notices his come dripping down your thighs. he swiftly gathers the release on his fingers and shoves it back inside you, causing you to let out a near pornographic moan as he pulls up your underwear all the way.

“did you guys hear that?” a voice sounding like emily said.

“see this is why i don’t do big houses like this, too many creepy ass noises.” morgan.

“mansion,” rossi corrects, “and for a couple of profilers, you both are stupid if you don’t know what that sound was.”

your eyes widen to match spencer’s, you’ve been caught.

“was it a mouse or something?”

“no more like, bunnies,” he joked with an innuendo, “come on, i found the bottle i was looking for, let the bunnies do their thing so they can leave and go home to do whatever it is bunnies do.”

“you’re a weird old man david…” emily muttered.

the door closes and you both let out a big breath, and burst into a fit of laughter, “how the hell are we gonna show our faces to him on monday?” you whine.

“that is a monday us problem,” he starts, “but right now, i think it’s time for me to take you home.” he winks.

two stuffed bunnies show up on yours and spencer’s desk on monday. you’re both redder than a tomato as rossi chuckles when he walks by. prentiss and morgan are still confused.