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#Prentiss x Y/N
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Emily Prentiss Masterlist
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Mommy…Master List
Approach at your own risk… smut =* extra smutty =**
One Shots
Mommy Kink You Say? Drabble
S3 vs. S16 Prentiss NSFW Drabble*
Coffee & Healing*
Just Getting Started Drabble*
I Like Like You
Except Me*
Properly Punished ~Jemily*
BAU Team Drabble ~College!au
Water Kink with Emily Prentiss
Lingerie Fetish with Emily Prentiss*
High Society ~Melissa Schemmenti x Emily Prentiss(Lauren Reynolds) xFem Younger!Spy!Reader (High Society AU)
Oh and I take Requests, so hit me up with your ideas 😉 Requests & Prompt-List
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zizzlekwum · 1 year
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Stranger In A Not-So-Strange Land
Masterlist
CHAPTER FIVE
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The BAU goes toe-to-toe with their most prolific serial killer yet as you continue to heal. Follows the events of Criminal Minds Season 2 Episode 13 “No Way Out.”
Trigger Warnings: references to suicide
Word Count: 5,798
Tag List: @leftoverenvy @itsmeanobody @ctrljuls @theclassicgaycousin [if you want to be added to the tag list, please comment or send me an ask]
You limp your way into the BAU later than usual, having been held up at the doctor’s office.
“Hey, no more crutches!” JJ cheers as she comes around the corner, noticing your entrance.
You make your way to your desk and drop your backpack on the floor before falling into your chair. “Doc says my leg is healing quite nicely,” you tell her. “Pain’s still annoying me, though.”
She frowns. “Well, I have something that’ll take your mind off of it.”
“Oh, we got a case?” You stand and start walking with her towards the briefing room.
JJ nods. “It’s a bad one,” she warns you as you enter the room and take a seat at the table next to Emily, who greets you with a small wave. Everyone else is already seated besides Gideon, who is nowhere to be found. JJ walks to the front of the room and grabs the remote off of the table, pressing a button.
“1996,” she starts as a black and white image of a human ribcage appears on the screen behind her. “The ribcage of a male was found in the Desert Rose National Park. It was never identified.” She presses a button on the remote in her hand as the images of a severed arm and a limbless torso replace the ribcage. “This morning, the remains of two victims were found in almost exactly the same area.”
“Well, one year later is cause for concern, but ten years?” Prentiss shrugs. “That could be a coincidence.”
“It would be,” Reid says, sliding a folder across the table to her. “Except the unidentified male was missing a right rib bone.”
“And the torso found this morning is missing exactly the same bone,” Hotch says.
Reid nods. “Both of them seem to be surgically removed, and the advanced rate of decomposition on the male means that he died far before the female.”
“Oh, uh, Katherine Hale,” JJ says, bringing up a picture of a young, smiling blond woman. “They found a bracelet on her wrist. She ran away about two weeks ago from her small Colorado town.”
“Unsub’s crossing state lines. He’s mobile,” Hotch says as Gideon walks into the room, carrying an evidence box.
Morgan looks through some of the photos spread out on the table. “If the remains are related to the same killer, where’s he been for ten years?”
“Killing,” Gideon says, placing the box on the table and opening it. He takes out a stack of files and drops them onto the table in front of him. “Unsolved case files going back thirty years.”
“Jesus Christ,” you say.
“Every case, the victimology is the same,” Gideon continues. “The unwanted. This box is just the tip of the iceberg. Thirteen cases spanning 30 years. Same MO— right rib bone is missing. It’s him, Hotch, it’s the same killer.”
“All the remains were dumped in remote areas and always near Interstate 80,” Hotch says as everyone grabs a different file and begins to flip through. “And up until now, no remains this intact or this close to the actual time of kill have been found.”
“Never two victims dumped at the same time in the same place,” Gideon adds.
“All of these killings are the work of just one man?” Prentiss asks, flipping through a file.
Gideon nods solemnly. “The most prolific serial killer ever.”
“Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch says. “We’re heading to Nevada.”
*   *   *   *   *
You all spend the couple hours of the plane ride to Nevada going through all the case files, bouncing theories off one another. When you arrive, you split into groups. Morgan, Gideon, and Hotch head to where the remains were found while you go with Prentiss and Reid to the police station.
You all enter the police station and introduce yourselves to the officer manning the front desk. You notice more than one person glaring at the three of you as you pass by.
Reid frowns. “Is it just me or do you get the feeling that we’re not welcome here?”
“Oh, good, you can feel it too,” you say.
“No, it’s not us, it’s what we represent,” Emily says, walking around the front desk as you and Reid trail behind her. “The government’s not all that popular out here.”
A cell door creaks and slams as another officer attempts to drag a woman out of the cell. “You can’t make me go, I know what my rights are, I don’t wanna, don’t make me go! No!” the woman yells, fighting against the officer. “I don’t wanna go home, I know my rights!” She notices Prentiss and turns her attention to her. “What are you looking at, princess?” She rips her arm out of the officer’s grip.
The officer immediately grabs her again. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it, Jane, back to jail.”
“Okay, okay, okay!” Jane says, then shoves the officer away and grabs onto Reid by his jacket lapels. “He’s coming,” she says harshly, her face grave. “He’s coming back and there’s nothing you can do about it! Do you hear me? Nothing! Nothing!”
The officer manages to separate Jane from Reid as she continues to yell. Something falls out of her pocket and she begins shrieking, reaching for it and pointing. Prentiss steps forward to pick it up. “Excuse me!” she calls. She holds her hand out to the officer. “She dropped this.” Jane reaches out to grab it back but the officer pulls her away. Emily tilts her head. “It’s harmless,” she assures the officer, who then allows Jane to grab the item.
“Thank you,” Jane says, letting go of Prentiss’ hand and nodding.
“What is it?” Prentiss asks.
Jane brings it up to her lips and blows. A whistling sound comes out as the officer forces her back into her cell.
Reid raises his eyebrows. “A psycho with a whistle. That’s not too weird.”
You snort. “Can’t be weirder than being buried alive by a serial killer,” you say, gesturing to your leg. “Or, you know, how I came to be a part of the team.”
Emily chuckles. “Point taken. Let’s go get set up while we wait for the others.”
*   *   *   *   *
Later, once everyone has returned, Hotch introduces you, Reid, and Prentiss to the sheriff, Georgia Davis, who insists you call her George. After you all get settled in, Hotch has George gather the other officers so you all can give the profile. Reid prints out something from the computer he’s using. “Early toxicological investigations of the victim’s blood indicated high levels of ketamine,” he says, standing and grabbing the paper from the printer. He then hands it to Hotch.
Hotch reads over the paper in his hands. “Ketamine is primarily a horse tranquilizer.”
“Also one of the more popular date-rape drugs, along with GHB and rohypnol” you add, mentally thanking your obsession with Law & Order: Special Victims Unit for the helpful knowledge.
“In street lingo, it’s known as being stuck in a k-hole,” Hotch says, nodding at you.
George looks horrified. “So his victims were completely conscious when he killed them?” She nods at the picture of Katherine Hale that’s pinned to the bulletin board behind her. “Imagine what she must’ve gone through.”
“It’s essential for this unsub that he sees the terror in his victim’s eyes,” Emily says. “That is what gets him off.”
“He’s either had medical training, or he’s honed his skills over the years,” Hotch says.
“Look for a man in his mid- to late-fifties,” Gideon tells everyone. “Highly intelligent, methodically and obsessively clean.”
“His vehicle is most likely an RV, muted in color, neither old nor new, and in perfect working order,” Prentiss explains.
“It’ll have a CB, radar detectors, and police-band radio,” Morgan says. “All these things have helped him evade you.”
“And this vehicle is his killing room,” Hotch says. “It’ll be soundproofed. Surgical instruments are on the walls. There’s a stirrup chair or an autopsy table in it.”
“All of his kills are recorded meticulously— if not on video, then in a journal that he carries with him in his right-hand inside jacket pocket,” Gideon says.
“How could you know that?” a deputy who previously introduced himself as Rick Silo interrupts skeptically.
“The marks left from the tools he used to sever the remains from the rest of the body indicate that he’s left-handed,” you explain.
“This man is void of all normal human feelings,” Gideon continues. “A killing machine. Incapable of remorse, compassion, love. It’s imperative that we catch him here, now, before he escapes and continues killing.”
“We have roadblocks on every interstate, track or laned, in or out of this town,” Deputy Silo tells him. “We’ll shut down this state if we have to.”
“Stop every RV, truck, and trailer,” Hotch tells the officers as they begin to file out of the room, on their way to man the previously-mentioned roadblocks.
You notice George leaning against a desk, lost in thought. So does Gideon. “Something troubling you?” he asks.
“That profile you gave,” she explains. “Reminds me of a story I once heard.” She stands resolutely. “There’s someone you should meet.”
Gideon waves you, Prentiss, and Reid over as George leads him back to the holding cell where you first met Jane. George’s keys jingle as she unclips them from her belt and uses them to unlock the cell door, which creaks as she opens it. “How you feeling, Jane?” George asks the woman sitting in the cell, her voice kind.
Jane shakes her head, not turning around. “I don’t wanna go home, George. Please, don’t make me go home.”
George pats her on the back, getting Jane to turn around to face you. She nods in your direction. “Jane, these people are from the FBI. I’d like you to tell them your story.”
“Why, so they can make fun of me, too?” Jane asks, skepticism written all over her face. She cradles her whistle in her hands, stroking it.
Emily takes a step toward her, bending down. “That’s very pretty,” she says, gesturing towards the whistle. “Did you make it?” She slowly sits down on the bench beside Jane.
Jane holds the whistle up, showing it to us. “It was a gift,” she says, turning to face Emily.
“Ah,” Prentiss says softly, gently taking the whistle from Jane and examining it for a moment. “What happened to you?”
Jane glances at George, who gives her a small nod. She takes the whistle back and plays with it in her hands, looking down. “My car broke down,” she says after a minute. “The engine went out on me and… you know, in those days, they didn’t have cell phones, so I tried to fix it myself. Then I felt a presence, and then everything went white. I was in a spaceship.” She smiles slightly in wonder at the memory. “And I could see myself. It was like time was suspended. I could feel everything, and there were strange maps on the walls— diagrams of all the stars. It was cold, very, very cold.”
She stands to face you. “And the alien, he did things to me. He touched me, very softly, and… he stroked my hair, and he drew lines all over my body. And the whole time, he was standing there, smiling down at me. Then I looked in his eyes, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.” Jane gives a slight shrug. “I don’t know why.”
“Then what did he do?” Gideon prompts.
“Then I… was back in my own bed, and it was the next morning.”
“When was this?” you ask softly. “How long ago did this happen?”
“I was nineteen.” Jane chuckles. “It was thirty years ago.”
“And did you ever see him again?” Prentiss asks her.
“Oh, I see him. I see him every time I shut my eyes.”
George leads the rest of you out of the cell as you all ponder the information. “The strange maps on the walls could have been anatomical drawings,” Reid postulates.
“What about the fact that she could see herself?” George asks.
You shrug. “Mirrors on the ceiling could do that.”
“So his victims could see themselves being dismembered,” Emily adds.
George shakes her head. “Every time I think it can’t get any worse, it does.”
“Her subconscious mind has created a delusion that she was abducted by an alien,” Gideon says.
“It’s possible she’s the only one who’s survived,” Prentiss says.
“Why did he let her go?” George asks.
Prentiss shakes her head. “She said when she looked into his eyes, she felt relaxed.”
“And in that moment, the one thing that he wanted, she didn’t give him,” Gideon says.
“Fear,” you say solemnly.
*   *   *   *   *
You drive with Emily, Morgan, and Reid to a trailer park, where you’re met with a squad of police cars. You exit the SUV and walk up to Hotch and Gideon, who are talking to George and Deputy Silo.
“We’ve set up a nationwide tip line,” Hotch is saying, “but all we’ve really got so far is white male, mid- to late-fifties, tall, with a medium build.”
“From the remains discovered this morning, we know he doesn’t keep his victims long,” Gideon says.
“We’ve got more cops by the hour to help find this guy,” George tells him. “We also put out a nationwide APB.”
“If he is still in this town— and we believe he is— he has absolutely no way out,” Morgan says.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go catch this son of a bitch,” Silo says. With a nod, you all begin walking in separate directions, each going to a different area of the trailer park to ask questions.
You limp along beside Prentiss as you approach the first trailer. She knocks on the door and steps back as a man opens it.
“Agent Prentiss, FBI,” she says, holding up her badge as you do the same. “This is Agent Y/L/N. We’re looking for someone, and we were hoping you might recognize the description. He’s a white man, in his mid- to late-fifties. He’s tall and has an average build.”
“He wouldn’t have stayed here for long,” you add. “But he would’ve continually returned year after year.”
The man shakes his head. “No, sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”
Emily thanks him, turning around. The two of you walk to the next trailer and ask the same questions, but are told the same thing. Pretty soon, you’ve walked up and down the rows of trailers, always coming up empty.
“Ugh,” you say, taking off your hat and wiping away the sweat from your forehead before putting the hat back on your head. “I hate the heat.”
“Hey, at least it’s a dry heat,” Prentiss points out, chuckling.
“I swear, if it were this hot and it were humid, I’d just fucking off myself,” you mutter. She snorts. “And why the hell can’t we find this guy, anyway?”
“He’s obviously not here,” she agrees.
“The key to getting away with murder— at least, never getting caught, anyway— is to just not tell anyone,” you say, thinking aloud.
“And the only people he told were the people he killed,” Emily says. “Then he took from them what he needed— cash, credit cards.”
“Hmm,” you hum, your mind whirring. You take out your cell phone. “I wonder if anything of Katherine Hale’s was used after her death. Garcia should be able to tell us.” You shoot her a quick text, asking her to check, before sliding your phone back into your pocket.
“His RV should’ve been here.” Emily frowns.
“Yeah, it—” You pause. “Unless… he’s towing a trailer.”
“You know what, that makes sense!” Prentiss tells you. “That way he could unhook and move around freely.”
“He could also hide it. That-that’s why we can’t find him!”
“He’s waiting for the roadblocks to clear,” she finishes for you. “Okay, if he has a truck, it’d be just like his trailer— muted in color and American-made.”
“We should check back in with the others and let them know,” you say to her. “We’re looking in the wrong places.” She nods, and you begin the walk back to where you started. You take out your phone and dial Hotch.
“Hotchner,” he answers.
“Hey, what if he was towing a trailer and not driving an RV,” you say. “If he unhooked it and left it somewhere, we would be looking for a truck, not an RV.”
Hotch says something indistinguishable to someone else before replying. “Great work, Y/L/N. We’re going to take the night to regroup and start again first thing tomorrow. At least we know he never takes anyone while he’s here.”
“Got it.” You hang up and relay the plan to Emily. The two of you head back to the SUV and begin driving back to the motel. When you get there, the sun has already set. You let out a sigh of relief as you and Emily walk through the door to your shared room. Your go bag is already on the full-sized bed farthest from the door, while hers is on the other bed, closer to you. You flop down on your bed, rubbing your sore leg.
“Too much walking today?” Emily asks, unzipping her bag.
“Uh huh.” You nod, reaching into your own bag and retrieving a bottle of ibuprofen. You open it and shake two tablets into your hand before resealing it and tossing it back into the bag. Grabbing your other, regular nighttime meds, you stand and limp your way to the bathroom to get water from the tap.
“I think I’m just gonna go to bed and hope it hurts less in the morning,” you say to Prentiss, exiting the bathroom and returning to your bag to grab your pajamas.
“Probably for the best,” you hear her say as you go back to the bathroom and close the door before undressing. You quickly brush your teeth and wash your face, mentally grumbling at the fact that you’re in your mid-twenties— no longer a puberty-experiencing teenager— and still struggle with acne. When you’re finished washing your face, you head back to your bed and climb under the covers.
“‘Night, Emily,” you say, closing your eyes.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” she replies, and the corners of your mouth twitch up when she says your name.
*   *   *   *   *
You wake to the sound of a phone ringing. You groan, rolling over without opening your eyes. “Is it yours or mine?”
“I think mine,” Prentiss says through a yawn. A pause, and then: “Yeah, it’s mine. Prentiss.” You wait for her to respond to the person on the other line, hoping you don’t have to get up. “Oh, shit!” she exclaims, causing you to sit up and look over at her.
“What?” you ask, turning on the lamp on the table between your beds. “What’s going on?”
She grabs her bag and searches through it, finally withdrawing a pen and a notepad. She scribbles something down and hangs up the phone. “Get dressed,” she tells you, already grabbing her clothes.
“What’s going on?” you repeat, frowning.
“Garcia found out Katherine Hale’s cell phone was used five hours ago,” she tells you. “She traced the call to right outside the sheriff’s house.”
“Oh, shit,” you curse, echoing her earlier sentiment. The two of you scramble to get ready and are jumping into the SUV within three minutes, tires squealing as Emily tears out of the parking lot and down the road.
It takes less than ten minutes before she pulls the SUV into the driveway, the early morning light shining through the trees. You both jump out of your seats as soon as she throws it into park, drawing your guns. A quick look around shows you that Hotch, Gideon, Reid, and Morgan are already there, their SUV parked to the side, along with another police car.
You and Emily rush to the door. She nods at you once before charging inside. You both lower your weapons when you see Hotch.
“She’s gone,” he tells you as a way of greeting.
“Hey, Silo, don’t touch anything,” Morgan is telling the deputy, who you find bending down next to George’s fridge, about to pick up a spilled jug of juice. “We need to profile this room.”
“Profile?!” Silo exclaims, standing. “You said the call was made five hours ago by the unsub, right outside this house! Now, what’s to profile?! He took George!”
“Why?” Gideon asks as Silo clenches his fist, running a hand through his hair anxiously.
“All right,” Hotch says. “We need to work fast.”
“Okay, she enters the house and then it’s habitual,” Morgan says.
“All right, she drops her keys, hits the answering machine, takes off her gun belt,” Emily continues.
“Then moves to the kitchen,” you say.
“He’s never taken anyone of prominence before,” Gideon points out. “Why take the sheriff?”
Hotch looks down, noticing the sheriff’s weapon on the floor. “And not her gun. Silo, call your office, see if she was planning to meet anyone.”
“No way a cop would give chase without their gun,” Morgan says, shaking his head. “Definitely looks like she tried to make a go for it.”
“But she didn’t make it,” Reid says, bending down. When he rises, he holds a used syringe in his hand.
“Guys,” Silo says, hanging up his phone. “George brought Crazy Jane home with her.”
“So he takes control of George, then goes after what he came here for,” Morgan says.
Prentiss nods. “Crazy Jane.”
“Except she’s not crazy,” you say.
“Those footprints,” Morgan says, pointing to the kitchen, where the juice is spilled on the floor. “They have to be Jane’s. They go to the back. She escapes. The unsub knows the ketamine’s gonna wear off, so he’s gotta act.”
Gideon shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t got what he came here for.”
“So for leverage, he takes the sheriff, which means sooner or later, he’ll contact us,” Hotch concludes as his phone starts ringing. He puts it to his ear, answering. “Hotchner.” He pauses, then looks at Silo. “Katherine Hale’s cell phone just came back on in the middle of town.”
Silo starts for the door. “Let’s do this.”
“He thinks we have Jane,” Gideon says, following him.
“Which means he wants to trade,” you say.
“Whatever he wants, we need to find Jane and the sheriff fast,” Hotch says, walking out the door. He tosses Morgan the keys. “You go to town with Gideon, we’ll go to Jane’s.”
*   *   *   *   *
When Hotch pulls the SUV up to Jane’s house, Reid jumps out of the passenger seat as you and Prentiss exit from the back. You draw your gun as the four of you walk up the front steps. Reid and Hotch put their backs to the wall on the right side of the front door as you and Prentiss take the left, preparing to go in, when you notice the wind chimes hanging along the porch.
“Guys,” you say. “Take a look at the wind chimes.”
“They look like they’re made of bones,” Emily says. “I-I think it’s human rib bones.”
“Let’s go through the house first,” Hotch says. “Ready?” At your nods, he kicks down the door, and you all file in, guns in front of you. Hotch and Reid go left as you and Prentiss take the hallway.
“Clear!” you hear Hotch call.
You check the first room as Prentiss takes the second. “Clear!” you call.
“Clear!” comes Prentiss’ voice next. You finish clearing the house before regrouping on the front porch.
Emily pulls rubber gloves from her pocket, handing a pair to you. You pull them on as she does the same before each examining one of the wind chimes.
“Completely empty,” Hotch says about the house, walking out the door, followed by Reid. “She’s not here.”
“Well, he’s obviously been here before and left these… gifts for her,” you say, frowning as you examine one of the wind chimes.
“How romantic,” Emily says sarcastically from beside you. You snort.
“His version of romance, anyway,” Hotch says, stepping closer to you to examine the chimes in your hand.
“What— are you trying to say you think he keeps coming back here because he’s in love with her?” Emily asks.
“That’s impossible,” Reid says.
“He’s a sexual sadist,” you remind her. “Can’t feel love.”
Hotch sighs. “Well, define love.”
“Chemically, it involves surging brain elements called monoamines, dopamines, norepinephrine, and serotonin,” Reid explains. “Love chemicals controlled by phenethylamine, also found in—”
“Chocolate,” Prentiss says. She sighs. “I love chocolate.”
“Ooh, me too!” you say.
“Peas, too!” Reid exclaims excitedly. “It’s also found in peas!”
“Peas?” Prentiss repeats.
“Indeed, some veritable—”
“Reid,” Hotch interrupts, holding up a hand. “Reid, stop. Please.” He raises his voice. “Spread out, everybody. Keep looking.”
“I thought it was interesting,” you tell Reid quietly, shooting him a grin.
“Hey, look over there,” Hotch says, pointing to a barn through the trees. He walks down the stairs and heads in that direction, drawing his gun. You, Prentiss, and Reid follow him.
Hotch and Reid again take the right side of the door as you and Prentiss take the left. Hotch nods over at you before shoving open the door. “FBI!”
You and Prentiss quickly follow Hotch and Reid into the barn, guns pointed in front of you. You slowly creep along the side until you reach a curtain hung in front of you. Reid glances over at you and Prentiss, making sure you’re ready before he pulls aside the curtain and steps through the opening.
Outside, you see a silver trailer, halfway covered by a tarp. Reid motions you forward as he reaches up to grab the handle of the door, pulling it open. Hotch surges forward up the steps into the trailer, with you hot on his heels. You push through the pain in your leg and step up.
Inside the trailer is a wall of sharp tools, along with a long, bloody metal table in the center.
“Jesus fuck,” you mutter as Hotch gives the all clear, holstering your weapon. “It’s his freaking murder room.”
“I thought I’d seen everything,” Hotch comments as he examines the room. He looks down beside him and tenses. “Guys.”
“What is is?” Reid and Prentiss ask at the same time.
“It’s a coffin,” Hotch replies, bending down and pulling the top open. Inside is a dead woman with blood dripping down the side of her mouth.
“Hotch!” Emily calls. “There’s another coffin over here.”
Hotch walks over to the other side and opens the second coffin. You look down to see George, her hands tied in front of her. “It’s okay,” Hotch says, reaching down and pulling her up. “Don’t try to speak, we’ve got you.”
“Thank God,” George says as Hotch carries her out of the trailer, where four or five officers are waiting. You, Reid, and Prentiss follow behind him as he sets George down and unties her hands.
Hotch looks to Reid. “Call Silo, tell her we found the sheriff.”
Reid nods and takes out his phone. He says a quick few words before hanging up and turning back to Hotch and George.
“Are you hurt?” Hotch asks her.
She shakes her head. “Jane,” she says. “Did you find Jane?”
Hotch shakes his head. “No, but we’re looking. We do know that he doesn’t have her, either, though.”
George nods and opens her mouth to say something as every officer’s phone starts to ring.
“Well, this can’t be good,” you mutter to Emily as they all fumble with their phones.
“They-they found the school bus abandoned just outside of town,” one of the officers tells Hotch, his voice shaking.
“Oh my God,” George says, standing. “Did they find the children?”
The officer shakes his head. “No.”
*   *   *   *   *
Hotch quickly drives the SUV to the diner where Gideon and Morgan are with the unsub.  Reid is in the passenger seat beside him, and you’re in the middle of the back seat, between George and Emily. Hotch slams on the brakes when he gets to the parking lot. He jumps out of the car and opens George’s door for her, helping her out.
“George?” A man turns and starts running toward George as you step out of the car behind her. “George, baby?! You all right?!” The man, who you assume is George’s husband, wraps her in his arms. “Thank God.”
“He killed Tommy’s teacher,” George tells him. “Annie. She was just 22.”
Her husband pulls away to look at her. “They found the school bus abandoned, just outside of town.”
“I know, the field trip!” George exclaims. “Tommy’s supposed to be on that field trip. Where is he?”
“Safe,” her husband tells her. “He’s fine. He’s with my mom. But that man, he also killed the school bus driver.”
“How?” George asks, turning to Hotch. “We had the whole town shut down, there was no way out!”
“What was the one vehicle we weren’t looking for?” Hotch asks.
“A school bus,” Reid responds.
“More importantly,” Hotch says, “where are the children?”
You look toward the diner, where you can see Gideon talking to the unsub, who appears to be seated in a booth. “Hopefully Gideon can figure that out,” you say.
A siren sounds as a police car pulls up next to you. You and the others walk over to where an officer is stepping out of the front seat. “Sir, I found her walking the streets,” the officer tells Hotch, opening the back door to reveal Jane in the backseat.
“Jane, he’s been coming back to this town for years to see you,” Hotch tells her as she steps out of the car.
“All those years?” she repeats. “Why?”
“He says he’s in love with you.”
“He’s in love with me? Why?! I—”
“That’s what he says,” Hotch tells her.
Emily steps up to Hotch’s side. “He hides out in your old barn and he watches you,” she says to Jane. “And when he leaves, he leaves those wind chimes as gifts.”
Jane nods. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they.”
“They’re not beautiful,” you tell her, shaking your head. “They are the rib bones of people he took, tortured, and killed.”
“He is not an alien,” Prentiss says. “You were abducted by a serial killer.”
“B-but he did come for me, didn’t he?” Jane says. “Not George, he came for me! Didn’t he?” She turns to face George.
“That’s what he says,” Hotch says again.
“You told me to run,” Jane says to George. She shakes her head. “But I didn’t want to run. I wanted to see him again, to see his eyes and see his face! And I don’t know— somehow it just felt like I was coming home!”
“Jane!”
You turn your attention to where Gideon and Morgan are leading the unsub out of the diner, where he is staring at Jane.
“Oh!” Jane cries, trying to run to him, but George holds her back by her right arm as Prentiss grabs her left.
“He has the children, Jane!” George exclaims.
Silo exits the diner behind Morgan and Gideon. “He has our children.”
“And we will find them,” Morgan tells him.
“And if we don’t, they’ll die of exposure!” Silo yells, turning to George. “He hasn’t got Tommy, George, but what if he did? Hand him over!”
“Silo,” George cautions as he takes a step forward.
“What choice do we have?” he tells her.
“Not this one!” She grabs his arm.
“Tell them, Jason,” the unsub says, causing Silo and George to look at him. “Tell them I’m not interested in harming children. You’ve studied me for years. Have I ever once harmed a child?” He shakes his head, giving Gideon a sinister smile. “Does nothing for me. Give me Jane, and they’ll have their children back.”
“Is she part of this with you?” Silo asks.
“Look at her, Rick,” George tells him. “She’s not a part of anything. She’s as much his victim as you are.”
“With Jane in my life, I will never harm another human being,” the unsub says, shaking his head. Jane smiles, struggling against George and Prentiss to take a step towards him. “Leave her alone!” the unsub growls.
Silo moves closer to him and Morgan steps between them. “Hey! Don’t even think about it!” Morgan tells him.
“No matter what you do to him, he will never give you what you want,” Gideon says.
“I’m telling you, Rick,” George says. “They’ll find the children. Trust me.”
“Take me with you, Frank.” Gideon turns to the unsub— Frank, apparently. “Just you and me.”
“And my Jane?” Frank asks.
Gideon glances over at her. “You’ll take me to where the kids are?”
“Happily,” Frank says. “I couldn’t have that on my conscience.” He smiles evilly.
Gideon nods to George and Prentiss, who release Jane. She rushes to Frank’s side. “I will take a vehicle of my choice,” Frank tells everyone. “Jason will drive. Once I’m satisfied that no one is following, I will take Jason to where I have the children. He will then call.” Frank pauses. “If anyone follows, the story will end in tears.”
Gideon nods as everyone makes way for Frank and Jane. Frank leads them to one of the SUVs. Hotch tosses Gideon the keys as they enter the back and Gideon gets in the driver’s seat. He starts the car and pulls away.
“FUCK!” you yell. “I hate this!” You stomp your foot and instantly regret it as pain shoots up your still-healing leg. You almost topple over, but Emily catches you.
“I hate it, too,” she tells you quietly as the SUV turns a corner and drives out of sight.
*   *   *   *   *
It seems like you all wait hours before Hotch’s phone rings, Gideon on the other line to tell him where to find the children. Everyone makes a mad dash to their cars as you, Emily, and Reid pile in the backseat of the remaining SUV, with Hotch driving and Morgan in the passenger seat. It takes over half an hour of driving to reach the edge of the desert, where Gideon is standing by the side of the road.
“He told you where they were?” Emily asks him immediately after stepping out of the SUV.
Gideon points to the rocks behind him. “They were just over that ridge.”
“Which way did he go?” Hotch says.
“West,” Gideon replies, starting to walk in that direction. You and Hotch follow him as he follows a series of footprints through the dirt. Suddenly, he stops.
“The tracks, they disappear,” Hotch notes. You curse.
Gideon looks out into the desert. “We’ll find them.”
14 notes · View notes
patrickispinky · 6 months
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Derek: are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Emily: i'm the knife
Jj: *from across the room* she's the little spoon
6K notes · View notes
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*the BAU team noticing Y/n and Spencer Reid*
Emily: hey- Derek. look at how close they’re standing. 
Garcia: they’re practically breathing the same oxygen. 
Derek scoffs: that kid’s got nerve. yesterday he literally took a whole step away from me when I stood too close to him- went on about something like germs in the air or whatever. 
Garcia: yeah, well, my love, you are not Y/n. 
2K notes · View notes
rynbutt · 23 days
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pierced. pt. 3 | spencer reid.
Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy
a/n: kicking my feet fr
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You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.
Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy. 
You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).
You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.
You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup. 
You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.
Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing. 
You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.
“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”
“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.
“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”
Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.
“Made a new friend?” You asked.
Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”
You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”
His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.
You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”
“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.
The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.
“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by. 
“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”
“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.
Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date. 
Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.
Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.
“You okay?” You questioned gently.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”
You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.
“Work?” You asked softly.
“Yeah… But I-”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”
Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”
Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”
“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”
“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.
It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily. 
“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.
“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.
“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.
“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.
“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness. 
Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.
“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly. 
Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully. 
Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”
Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-
“Is this seat taken?”
Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.
“Y/N? What are you-”
“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”
You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.
He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.
“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”
You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.
“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.
“Uh, well,” he trailed off.
“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.
“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”
“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.
He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”
“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”
“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”
“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”
Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”
“Yeah… only if you want to?”
“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.
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a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r
1K notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 2 months
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You Don’t Even Know What She Looks Like? (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.
Warnings: none, very fluffy
Note: aww my first Spencer Reid fic! I hope you all like it <3
The BAU had only ever heard about Y/n. Never did Spencer show pictures of her or give descriptions on her appearance because he wanted to keep the majority of her to himself for as long as he could. Even though she had told him numerous times that showing them pictures and giving them more than the occasional chaotic story was completely fine by her, he never could bring himself to. That was until he started being away a lot more because of a continuous string of cases, making it harder for him to see her outside of the office. The first time she asked to bring him food when he was up late at the office doing paperwork, he declined, rambling about how he didn’t want to have to deal with all the screaming that would go on from the introduction of his girlfriend.
However, the second time she asked, he had had a hard case, one filled with innocent children and one that hurt him the most. As he sat in the chair of his desk, eyes staring at the wall as everyone around him scribbled down words onto paper, he knew he needed to see her. He would’ve left right then and there, but the stack of folders sitting to his left made him completely reject the efficiency of that idea. So, when her name popped up on his phone with a small plea to bring him food, knowing he hadn’t eaten as much as he should with the case, Spencer couldn’t say no.
”Guys,” He said, standing from his chair and turning so he could face the rest of the team.
Everyone’s eyes averted to him. Morgan leaning back in his chair, “What’s up, pretty boy?”
He twiddled his thumbs, “Don’t freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?”
At this, Emily and JJ perked up. Penelope, the woman passing by in the hall and overhearing his suspicious sentence, slid into the bullpen.
With everyone’s slow nodding, Spencer broke the news, “My girlfriend is coming in to bring me food.”
”WHAT?” Penelope shouted, completely disregarding his wish for them to be calm. She dropped the folder in her hands, not concerned that classified information lay beneath, and sprinted over to the tall man she knew as her friend.
She shook him, her hands on his shoulders, “SPENCER, ARE YOU MEANING TO TELL ME I’M ABOUT TO MEET YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!”
He giggled, “Yes,”
Morgan gave a glance to Rossi, who was standing against the railing and smirking, before standing from his own chair and making his way over to Penelope, prying her off Spencer, “Okay, babygirl, Spencer asked us to be calm about this.”
She turned to him, eyes widened, “Calm? No way will I be calm about this.”
”I’m with her on this one. Sorry.” Emily admitted, the woman standing next to JJ as the two joined the group.
Spencer rolled his eyes, “Seriously, guys. Don’t scare her away.”
Rossi cocked his head, “Scare her away? If you haven’t already after six months, I’m sure we won’t.”
Spencer frowned just as Penelope yelped, “Is that her?!”
Spencer turned his head to the door of the bullpen, seeing a blonde woman emerge from behind it. He shook his head with a laugh, “Penelope, no. That’s not her. You don’t even know what she looks like.”
Penelope stuck her tongue out at him just as JJ hollered, “That her?”
A random stranger passing by, Spencer shook his head once more.
Morgan joined in, “What about her?”
A man. Morgan pointed to a man. Spencer gave him a glance as Morgan giggled, never getting bored over a good teasing.
Emily tried to guess as well, “Hey! What about her?”
”No! Guys, I will tell you when she’s here.” Spencer said with a slight annoyance. His girlfriend had just texted him she would go to get his food. There was no way she was here yet.
The group got tired after a moment of pointing out random women and all fell back into their paperwork. After about ten minutes, Spencer stood from his desk.
Everyone in the BAU froze.
When he saw their stares, he laughed, “I’m just going to the bathroom. She’s not here yet, but if you stare at her like that when she comes, I swear to God she will run the other way.”
”Hey!” Emily exclaimed, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him as he pushed open the door and turned down the hallway.
There was silence for about three minutes seeing as Spencer wasn’t there, watching his mannerisms and determining if Y/n was close or not out the window with him gone.
A creek sounded throughout the floor as the door was pushed open. Y/n stood, with a white plastic bag in her hand, looking out at the people working at their desks. They completely missed the entrance. With no eyes on her, she moved to Spencer’s desk and placed the bag on top. Her eyes glazed over everyone before she cleared her throat, “Um, does anyone know where Spencer is?”
Morgan’s head snapped up as JJ and Emily stopped writing. Rossi’s door swung open and he stepped out forcefully, not graceful in the slightest. As if she was summoned, Penelope flew through the door of the BAU, almost tripping on her heel as she returned from her hibernation in her office.
With all eyes now on her, Y/n blushed slightly. Spencer had mentioned that everyone would be a bit overbearing, but she didn’t know even the smallest thing like their stares would be intimidating.
Penelope moved toward her first, looking at her as if she was an alien, “Are you Y/n?”
Y/n nodded and the entire group erupted into loud overlaps of coos and compliments. Spencer’s girlfriend stood in the midst of them all, being pulled into Penelope’s arms as the colorful woman hugged her tightly. JJ and Emily told her they loved the way she had styled her hair, asking how she had done it, and Morgan interrogated her on how Spencer had managed to “smooth talk” her. Rossi just nodded his head at her and extended his hand, murmuring his name and how nice it was to meet her.
Spencer was walking back from the bathroom, down the hall, when he heard the excited voices. He knew then and there what the situation was, and his feet began to pick up. He was practically running toward the BAU glass door and when he reached it, he yanked it open.
Everyone turned to him, his girlfriend’s face peeking out from behind them all and he immediately softened. The twinkle in her eye, the blush on her face, he could tell she appreciated finally being given the opportunity to meet his chosen family. Spencer wondered why he even waited to introduce her in the first place.
The man made long strides across the office, muscling through the small number of bodies before getting an arm’s length away from Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist.
He turned to everyone, smiling widely as his hand smoothed over her back lovingly, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend. Now, you can pick her out of a crowd.”
2K notes · View notes
archermind · 6 months
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I Can See You
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Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)
Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.
Word count: 1,800 approx.
Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk
author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3
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Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-
“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.
“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed
“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”
You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation. 
“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”
“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”
“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.
Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast. 
-
Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse. 
By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.
As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone. 
You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back. 
Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically. 
As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement. 
“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning” 
You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen. 
“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly. 
He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed. 
“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe. 
Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.
Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.
You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. 
“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.
“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him. 
“Mhm” you mumbled. 
Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.
“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket. 
You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open. 
“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer” 
“Good girls wait” he remarked
You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning. 
It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you. 
The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release. 
“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless. 
You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral. 
“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles. 
You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time. 
“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish. 
“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me” 
You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.
“Y/N?” he questioned
“Yea” you huffed out
“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh
“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”
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iluvreid · 3 months
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Capital B. Capital O. Capital A. Capital F. BOAF. Both? BOAF!!!!
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rainydayathogwarts · 5 months
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Emily finds out - Spencer Reid blurb
You rubbed your eyes with the back of your fist, watching as Spencer nodded, his phone held up to his ear. His deep morning voice - if you can even call it the morning yet - echoed in the small room as he briefly answered Hotch's words. You hit your head back against Spencer's pillow, ignoring the rustle in the room of him pulling clothes from the closet and waiting to get the same call from your boss. When your phone finally rung, you threw your hand out onto the bedside table, blindly fishing for it. You brought it back against your ear with a groan, lazily answering the call.
"We've got an urgent case, head to the office now please L/N, me and Rossi are already on it." And with that, he hung up the phone, ignoring the groan of acknowledgement you had let out. He was more brief than he had been with your boyfriend, and was clearly already getting sick of the day. You rolled on your back, watching your boyfriend pull his pants over his hips before kicking your legs over the side of his bed and leaning down to grab your trousers, mimicking Spencer's movements. You briefly glance at the clock, 4:08 am. "You should probably go, I'll take my car and follow you out once I'm ready. It'll seem suspicious otherwise." You tell him, pulling the same black top you wore the day before over your head. Spencer moves to stand between your legs and softly puts both his hands on your jaw so you can look up at him and he leans down for a quick yet sweet kiss.
He rushes out through the door obediently, looking back at you one last time to take a glance at you staring at your reflection in the mirror, trying to tame down your hair. Spencer leaves his apartment keys in the keyhole, trusting you to lock his apartment door twice and bring him the keys later. You make your way out of the apartment and into your car, parking in the basement of the building only 20 minutes later. You sigh, gathering your things and rushing up to the elevator.
No one is in the bullpen when you arrive, so you make your way to the debriefing room, hitting your hip against the doorknob when you enter. You groan, wincing, but make your way into one of the chairs around the circular table nonetheless. Of course, it's Derek who makes the first comment on your appearance when you enter. "Damn sweetheart didn't think you'd be the one to show up in last night's outfit." Spencer, who sits next to Derek, furrows his eyebrows. "What he means is she was over at someone else's having sex." Emily tries to whisper at him from across the table, but everyone hears the comment she makes and you scoff, lightly slapping her arm.
"Hey I wouldn't be if I had some earlier notice." You argue, opening the files in front of you. "I don't see anything wrong with that. Agent L/N came prepared when we asked her to and is immediately on task, unlike the rest of you. She'd have wasted our time by going home to change." Hotch's deep, usually grumpy voice comes out with a hint of amusement and you nod your head as the others go back to work with smirks on their faces.
"Jareau, catch L/N up on what she's missed - everyone wheels up in thirty." After JJ does catch you up, the room starts to file out, eventually leaving you and Spencer alone. You widen your eyes at him in amusement and he chuckles, his cheeks turning slightly redder than usual. You shuffle the chair you're in until you're sat next to your boyfriend and you press a kiss on his cheek before digging through your bag. He stands up in the meantime, thinking you've changed your focus to something else but call out for him "Spencer, wait!" He turns back to look at you and you hold out his house keys with an eyebrow raised. "Don't want Morgan finding me with those." But then not even a second later, Emily is rushing back into the room, grabbing her phone.
"My bad!" She pants, about to leave the room, but she abruptly stops upon seeing a flash of movement, and then the looks on your faces. Spencer looks like he's been caught dealing drugs and you on the other hand look surprised yet slightly amused with your eyes wide and arms still by your sides. She takes a moment to profile you, taking note of how Spencer's house keys are now in his hand, which he'd been trying to slyly shove in his pocket. She looks confused, but starts walking, muttering a quiet "After you." To Spencer before she steps in front of you, blocking the doorway.
She stares at you, her jaw slack, and slowly raises her pointer finger at you. "You- he's the- oh my gosh you have to tell me everything."
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luvergirl777 · 5 months
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Sweet Girl | Spencer Reid
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Pairing | Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count | 3k, not bad. 
Genre | Fluff, Smut 
Summary | Spencer is tired, so tired. He knows only one thing could possibly cheer him up. His sweet girl.
Index | Kinda sub Spencer, he's tired and want's to be taken care of, you're more than happy to do that, smut, unprotected sex, love confessions lol, they're perfect for each other, established relationship, pinning, cute shit.
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There are so many thoughts in Spencer’s brain, there always is. It’s impossible for them to slow down, he’s always so busy. Even when he’s not working, he’s thinking about the next case, the next degree, the next time he’ll be called into office for a dire case. It’s exhaustive and it feels impossible to just breathe for more than a moment. His morale started to slip, work becoming messy, cases blurring together, memory almost shot.
Until he met you, everything was hard, until he met you. It was an accident, technically. His morning coffee cafe wasn’t open, forcing him to break his routine that he’s had for months. As soon as he spotted you, the new (and out of his way) cafe instantly became his new favorite. Smart and kind, the sweetest smile always worn on your face. He swears you’re the smartest person he’s ever met, always ignoring you whenever you point out his multiple PHDs and ever continuous education journey. 
You force him to look at things differently, not really trying to, but you do. It’s refreshing, it’s amazing to him how it works, a breath of fresh air. Since he’s realized the difference in himself when he’s with you, he’s fallen head over heels. Your apartment is small and cozy, warm lighting and blankets everywhere. He’s at your apartment more than he is his own, feels more at home. 
You ease his mind, make everything easier. He can just be himself around you without any worry about needing to prove something. He can relax for the first time in what feels like years. It almost kills him to have to go away for cases, kills him even more when the cases last weeks or months. He spares you almost all the details, much like Garcia whenever he can. It’s not what you signed up for. Even when you ask, he only really tells you public knowledge. He keeps you separate from his work, he needs you separate from his work. His sweet girl, he’d like to keep it that way. 
Spencer’s exhausted, beyond exhausted he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he’s been away from you for this long, the last time he’s truly felt this horrible. His shoulders are heavy, eye bags growing from the exhausting 3 weeks he’s had. Kill, after kill, after kill, with no motive, no tracts, no suspects. He felt like a newbie again at the BAU, unable to track down their unsub. It feels like he’s failing everyone and himself, it was beginning to tear him down. 
Nightmare after nightmare, he was almost unable to sleep for the three weeks he’s been gone. The day they found the unsub, he almost cried with relief. The entire team almost cried, really. Generally he’s not emotional by any means, tries to stay objective in his work, but this time he just couldn’t. He’s happy, thrilled, to be home despite admittedly being a bit dishevelled from the trip. Unshaven, worn down, exhausted, eye bags, the list goes on and on. 
You’ve missed him too, but you’ve tried to keep your calling and texting at bay so as to not distract him from his work. As he makes his way home, you almost bubble with excitement. The door is loud as it unlocks, heavy click overpowering the soft instrumental vinyl that was filling the silence. Your feet run to meet him at the door, more than excited. The door opens, revealing a tired Reid. It’s the worst you’ve seen him in awhile, maybe in over a year you think. 
You’ve known Spencer for a while now, seen arguably the worst sides of him. This isn’t quite that, but it is pretty close to it. The slouch and far-out look tells you almost everything you need to know. 
“Oh, Spence.” You call to him softly, watching as his feet don’t move, eyes taking you in as you cautiously approach him as if he were a wounded animal. He doesn’t say anything, watching as you reach for his shoulders. He doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand, hands gently cupping his face and thumbs gently rubbing his cheeks as you comfort him. “Come, step inside.” You almost whisper, gently pulling him inside by his hands, warm. 
A small smile grows on his face as you take off his suit jacket, palms massaging his shoulders and biceps as you do so. You sway softly to the music, almost dancing into the kitchen as you pull him along. “Let’s eat, Spence.” You smile, sitting him down first. At this level, you easily reach his temple where you place a soft kiss. You don’t have to, but you’re more than happy to prepare a plate for Spencer. The music is comforting, the two of you sitting close, your foot brushing against his leg when you cross your legs. 
You happily clean up after the two of you, dancing around the kitchen as you entertain Spencer in the meantime. “How’re you feeling?” You hum, Spencer’s arms wrapping around your waist as you stand directly in front of him. He easily pulls you forward into his embrace. Your arms wrap around his neck, his face burying into the crook of your shoulder as you do so. 
“Better.” It’s all you need, all he needs to say. He’s putty in your hands as you softly pull him forward and off the kitchen bench, easily leading him to the shower. 
He’s so grateful for you, he thinks silently, to himself. He’s never felt like this for someone, and for the longest time, he was afraid he just couldn’t. He could never understand wanting someone with you everyday of the year, living in the same space, sharing everything. The thought used to make him nauseous. The thought of being with someone intimately used to make his skin crawl. But with you, it’s different, everything is different. 
He craves coming home to you, craves your touch after a long day, craves hearing your voice, craves your presence, craves your intimacy. He melts in your hold, his brain is able to finally shut off after a long day. All the thoughts, running miles a minute, goes away. 
He feels like he could cry as you run a shower for him, gently unbuttoning his white button up, fiddling with his belt to take off his pants, kissing his skin better, unknowingly healing him. “Y/n, please shower with me.” He mumbles, kicking his shoes and pants off, undressing the rest of the way. He steps in, watching as you undress before quickly joining him. 
“I’ve been worried about you, pretty boy.” You smile as you step inside, his arms immediately wrapping around your body. He’s tired and homesick, obviously so as he sinks into you. 
“I know, I know,” He nods along, hands sliding up to hold your head in his palms. “I’m okay, I promise.” Spencer smiles, gently kissing your forehead, back down to your cheeks, and finally connecting your lips. You immediately return the kiss, desperate for his touch, his lips on yours. 
“I know you are.” You smile, mumbling against his lips. Spencer smiles too, pulling you deeper into the kiss, closer to his body. You can’t help the small moan that slips when you feel him against you, shaky hands pu\lling him closer roughly by his back. 
“It’s always the best coming back to you, though,” Spencer almost groans into your mouth, making you weak in the knees as he does so. “I can hold my own, but there’s nothing better than coming home to you.”
“Spence, we gotta clean you up,” You almost whimper at your own words, sadly pulling away from him. “Had a rough couple of weeks.” Spencer just nods along, allowing you to do as you please. He’d let you do anything, always. He melts as your hands meet his hair, shampooing and conditioning. He doesn’t melt when you wash his body, quite the opposite as his skin burns hot as your hands rub along his body. 
“Please,” Spencer whines, quickly doing the same for you. He needs to get out of this before he loses his mind, he thinks. As soon as you’re both clean, his lips almost slam against yours, needy, almost desperate. “I’ve missed you so much,” He whines, complaining. 
“Come, Spence.” You mumble, lips against his shoulder as you talk to him. Your face and ears are burning hot, wanting to get out of the shower quickly. Spencer follows you without a hitch, quickly wrapping the both of you in fizzy towels as he places another kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve missed you, Spencer.” You smile at him, walking backwards out of the bathroom. He follows happily, a tired smile painted across his features. A towel hangs low on his waist as he follows. 
“I’m really tired, hun, I won’t lie.” Spencer mumbles as he sits down on the bed, fluffy towel becoming loose when his grip leaves it. A whimper leaves his lips when you straddle his hips, core bare as you lower your weight. He can feel your warmth, mind growing fuzzy almost immediately as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close. You don’t make a move to hurry things up, only tucking his hair behind his ears as you glance over his face. 
“So pretty, Spencer.” You mumble as you talk to him, continuing to play with his hair. “I’ll do the work, I just want you to feel good. Feel good after being away for so long, working so hard,” You mumble against his shoulder as you kiss it. Your town easily falls backwards off of your shoulders, leaving you bare on top of Spencer. “You gonna let me do that? Gonna be good?”
“Yes, yes please.” Spencer mumbles, roughly connecting your lips. His grip tangles in your hair, pulling as close as he possibly can. You whine into his mouth, hips grinding against him, so close yet so far, chest pressed flush against his own. You lift yourself onto your knees, pulling at Reid’s towel to move it off of his lap. You drop your weight back down as soon as possible, grinding against Reid’s cock, easily slipping through your folds. 
“Want you, miss you so much,” You complain, for no particular reason. You know Spencer is more than happy to give you what you want, almost wants it just as badly. “I want it.”
“Take it, sweet girl, take it.” He groans into your mouth, sloppily kissing you as if his life depends on it. His palms knead at your flesh, touching and holding everything you can reach. You whimper when his hands knead your inner thighs, so close to where you need him the most. “Need it just as bad. I’ve missed you so much, love you so much.”
Your hips lift up, Spencer helping you out the slightest as he lines up his cock for you. Your legs shake as you sink back down, hips connecting with a small slap. You both share a moan, needy hands pulling one another as close as physically possible. Spencer throbs as you grind against his cock, completely inside you, clit rubbing against his skin. It doesn’t feel that good to him, but watching you shake and whimper is almost enough to get him off. 
“I love you, Spencer.” You mumble, finally building the strength to lift yourself up, bouncing on his cock. You know exactly what Spencer likes, what he wants, moving exactly how he needs you to. You know where he’s sensitive, how to get him to tick. As you kiss his neck and squeeze around him, he swears he can stay here forever with you. He wants to stay forever, not here, maybe not this specifically, but with you. He wants to be with you, forever. 
“Y/N, I- oh fuck,” Spencer whines as you speed up, desperately chasing his moans, wanting to hear him. He feels embarrassingly close already, all of his senses full of you. You’re so tight and warm, goosebumps spreading across his skin. “Y/N, will you, uh, I want-” His words break off as he moans, feeling his abs tighten up as he fights off the urge to cum. To combat it, his fingers dip in between your bodies, gently rubbing circles into your sensitive clit. 
“Spencer, oh fuck.” You whine, tightening around him even more. “Gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum.” You bite softly into his chest, whimpers muffled by his skin. 
“Marry me,” Spencer whines, voice muffled and whiny. You don’t register his words, focused on the way his fingers rub circles into your clit, his other hand roughly guiding your hips as you bounce up and down on his cock, vice grip around him. Your thighs are shaking, teetering on the edge that you’re so close to falling off of. “Y/N, marry me.” Spencer's hands stop your movement entirely, giving you no stimulation as he holds your hips flush to his. 
“I-Spence, you’re mean-”
“Marry me, Y/N.” He cuts you off, not listening to the way you’re about to call him all sorts of names. “I love you so, so much. So perfect to me, Y/N. I want to be with you, forever. Please, marry me. I promise I’ll ask you in a cheesy, over the top way later, and we can say that was the official proposal. I never want to come home to anyone else but you.” 
“Spencer,” You can’t help the whine that struggles to escape your lips, squeezing around him even tighter. His grip doesn’t let up, holding you completely still. “This is a bit crazy to ask when I was about to cum all over your cock.” You giggle, hands coming to hold his face as your mind begins to clear just the slightest bit. “You know that, right?”
“I-I know. I was just thinking-” He starts, releasing his grip on you once he realizes your plight, allowing you to grind against him for some sort of stimulation. 
“You do that, a lot.” You giggle softly, biting back the moans as you move on top of him. 
“You do so much for me. It’s like, like when I’m with you, my brain quiets down. I don’t have to worry, don’t have to think a hundred miles a minute. I can just be me, when I’m with you.” Spencer rambles on, brows creasing as you speed up your movement, desperate to get there once again. “I can let you take care of me, love being around you.” 
“Spence, we’re gonna look back at this and laugh.” You giggle as you grind against his cock. Spencer goes back to rubbing tight circles against your clit, moaning when you tighten around him again, beginning to move up and down. 
“So, I’ll take that as a no th-”
“Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll marry you, my pretty boy.” You grin hard, watching as his face completely lights up, matching your giant smile. A giant squeal escapes when he quickly flips the two of you over, your back hitting the bed before you can protest. “Spencer! I thought you were tired.” You laugh, immediately being shut up when his hips begin to move. 
“I was.” Spencer smiles, hips driving forward into you. You’re already so close, so worked up, that the change in position almost sends you over. “Now I have a fiance, it’s a bit exciting, you see.” Spencer laughs at your circumstance, all of the wit wiped clean as you mewl and moan underneath him. He does his best to sooth the shake in your thighs, hands rubbing the soft skin underneath them, hips never slowing. Like you, he knows what you like, exactly what you like, his memory doesn’t allow him to forget it. 
“You- oh fuck,” You whimper as he rubs ghost like circles into your clit, not needing much more stimulation and he knows that. 
“Come for me, please. Wanna feel you, want to hear it, need it Y/N.” He groans, leaning forward to kiss you, sloppy and messy. You’re trapped underneath him, the weight somehow overwhelming and exactly what you need. At the change of angle, his cock hits exactly where you need him, hips grinding against your clit with each movement. 
“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer, coming.” You whimper, hands reaching for his back, scratching and pulling him closer. You’re almost impossible to push into as you cum, so sensitive and aroused that you clench so tightly around him. He whimpers into your skin, finally coming unraveled as it all catches up to him as well. 
“Good girl, so good.” Spencer groans into your skin. “Gonna cum for you, okay?” You nod eagerly, legs wrapping around his waist as you pull him close. 
“Cum inside, Spence, my sweet fiance.” You whine, thighs shaking from overstimulation. The name makes him fold, the way it slips so easily from your lips making him melt instantly. 
“Cumming, cumming.” He whines, sloppy thrusts slowing down as he does. You can’t help but whine with him, clit so sensitive that it’s almost driving you crazy. 
“Spencer,” You whine loudly, legs tightening to stop his movement completely. You’re too sensitive, it’s too much for you. “I love you.” You mumble, pulling him in for a kiss. 
“Love you, so much, the most.” Spencer mumbles, words soft and sincere as he speaks. Your legs slowly unwrap, sore and tired as you finally rest them. He’s moving slow as well, trudging into the bathroom for a damp towel to clean the two of you up. He’s almost sluggish by the time he’s done, tossing the towel into the bathroom without even really looking. You almost expect it as he collapses next to you, completely spent with his legs hanging off the bed. 
You giggle softly, rolling your eyes at the dramatics as he finally fully crawls into bed. You crawl next to him, propped up onto your elbow as you look down. “So, we're gonna tell our friends you asked me to marry you while balls deep?” You laugh almost directly into his face, hand coming to push hair behind his ear. 
“No.” It’s stern and final, no arguments accepted. At this, you laugh loudly. 
“C’monn, it would be funny, Morgan would love it.”
“That’s exactly why I’m scared. Listen, let’s sleep, before I rethink this decision.” He jokes dryly, a smile on his face when you finally give it up. You pull him close, cuddling into his side. 
“You’d never.”
“You’re right.” He hums, eyes falling shut. “I love you too much.”
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blackhillfilmss · 1 year
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Y/N: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Emily: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
Penelope: Socks are Feetie Heaties
JJ: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Spencer: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
Derek: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
Y/N: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Hotch: *annoyed* You’re all disappointments
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astrophileous · 6 months
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Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹
Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️
Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)
This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.
Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist
You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.
Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.
Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.
"Hey—"
"Are you insane?"
You looked at him dumbfoundedly.
"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"
A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.
"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."
"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.
"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"
"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."
Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"
"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."
Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."
"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"
It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.
Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.
And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.
"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."
"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"
You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.
Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"
Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."
You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"
Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.
With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.
"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"
You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."
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kimstills · 17 days
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some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader
in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.
content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops
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he’s a classic narcissist.
he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.
what’s my worst quality?
i have no sense of humor.
you don’t trust women as much as men.
you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.
you’re a bully.
you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.
but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.
you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.
from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.
you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.
you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.
you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.
it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.
what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.
derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.
what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.
he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.
spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.
you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.
but you knew that wasn’t enough.
so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.
the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.
at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.
he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.
“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.
you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.
aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.
you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”
aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.
“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.
“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”
your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.
but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”
you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”
“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.
you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.
“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”
everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.
but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.
once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.
and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”
aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.
he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”
you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”
“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.
you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”
“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”
this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.
no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.
597 notes · View notes
demonicbaby666 · 1 month
Note
Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww
Packing Heat
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 4.8k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader
Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.
A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!
When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 
She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 
Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 
It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 
Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 
You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.
"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."
Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 
"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.
"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 
The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 
When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 
Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 
"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 
Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 
Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 
The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 
"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 
With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 
You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 
"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 
Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 
The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.
"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 
Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 
"That's a good girl." 
Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 
Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 
There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 
The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 
"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 
She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 
You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.
"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 
Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 
For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 
Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 
"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.
Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 
"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 
The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 
With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 
In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 
Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 
She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 
The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 
"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 
She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 
"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 
She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.
"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 
You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 
"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 
She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 
The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 
"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 
Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 
"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 
You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 
With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.
"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  
You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 
With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 
When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 
"Get up." 
Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 
"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 
Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 
With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 
The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 
The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 
Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 
"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 
"Emily, please," you begged. 
"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 
"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."
Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"
If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 
It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 
"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 
The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 
As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 
You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 
"Did I say you could do that?" 
Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 
"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 
You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 
"Beg," she instructed. 
And you heeded. 
"Please. I need you." 
"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 
You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 
"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 
It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 
Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 
What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 
"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."
With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 
"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."
Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 
"You'd better be quiet then." 
Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 
"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 
Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 
"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 
"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 
She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 
When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 
"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 
"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 
"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 
"But-" 
"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 
"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 
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its-rach-writes · 20 days
Text
Cinnamon and Art Galleries - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: Your friend, Emily brings a cute stranger to your art exhibition.
Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, probably ooc Spencer
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this! This was my first time writing for Spencer so he's probably out of character but please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx
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You smiled as you drew the cat in the hot chocolate foam and handed it to the little girl on the other side of the counter with her mom. It melted your heart when her face lit up and she waved at you as her mom steered her out of the café. It was slow in your café today but you didn’t mind, you used the time to set up for the beginner art class you were going to be teaching on Saturday.
“Hey girl,” you glanced up when the bell rang and your friend Emily walked in.
You smiled when you saw her and gave her a wave. She was the first friend you had made when you moved to DC.
“Hey,” you smiled, “having the usual?”
“Please,” she grinned.
You got to work, making her one black coffee, the other was a milky coffee with a shot of cinnamon syrup. You knew that Emily drank the black coffee so you couldn’t help but wonder who the overly sweet coffee was for. You carefully selected the cinnamon roll with the most frosting and slid it into a bag, being careful to not let it stick to the paper bag.
“I believe congratulations are in order,” Emily started and you scoffed with a laugh.
As soon as you found out your art was going to be featured in an exhibition, Emily was the first person you told, “the team are coming to see it.”
You raised an eyebrow, secretly you were grateful, “FBI Agents don’t have anything better to do?”
She laughed, “not tonight, I even managed to talk the good Dr into coming.”
“The elusive Spencer Reid?” you rested your hip against the counter as you handed her the coffees, “how did you manage that?” from what Emily had told you, it didn’t seem like Spencer Reid liked social situations.
“I’ve got killer interrogation skills,” she smirked, “he’s cute too.”
You internally groaned, yours and Emily’s definition of ‘cute’ were very different, for all you knew Spencer Reid was an aging Professor, “as long as you don’t try and set us up, like you tried with me and Morgan.”
“No promises,” she laughed as she backed out of the café, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Later that night, you were sipping champagne as people perused your exhibition, your paintings were both inspired by Pre-Raphaelite art and the King Arthur legends. You noticed a man was standing at your painting of the Knights of the Round Table, so you walked over and decided to strike up a conversation.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” his lips twitched into a small smile as he looked down at you with gorgeous deep brown eyes, “you’re the artist right?” when you nodded, he looked back at the painting, “you’re really good.”
“Thanks, I love Pre-Raphaelite art.”
“Did you know that the Pre-Raphaelites were a secret society of young artists, founded in London in 1848? They were opposed to the Royal Academy’s promotion of the ideal as exemplified in the work of Raphael,” he blurted this out like he’d memorised it from a textbook and you worked hard to conceal a laugh.
“I did know that,” you giggled.
“Right of course,” he flushed, “of course you knew that.”
Something struck a memory, something that Emily had told you, “wait, are you Spencer Reid?” he looked at you with slightly wary eyes before nodding and you smiled, “I’m Y/N, Emily has told me so much about you.”
“It’s all lies,” he joked and glanced over his shoulder, “she’s making the most of the bar right now.”
You laughed as you looked over too and she waved, lifting up a glass in a motion of cheers. When she had said Spencer was cute, it was an understatement, he was young and gorgeous.
“Are you interested in art?” you asked as you sipped your champagne.
Spencer nodded, “I like looking at it, I’m afraid I’m not very artistic.”
“And here, we thought you were perfect,” you heard a chuckle from over your shoulder and you turned to see Derek Morgan and the rest of the BAU, Morgan pulled you into a hug, “congratulations sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” you smiled as you pulled away and looked at the others, “thank you for coming.”
It was a great night and you were grateful for everyone that came but soon, you were starting to get overwhelmed so you went out onto the balcony for a cigarette. Though it seemed as though someone else had beaten you to it. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you.
“Hey, you want some company?”
“Sure,” he smiled.
There was comfortable silence for a while as both of you looked over at the lights of DC, your cigarette smoke curling in the air. Soon enough, Spencer spoke up.
“So what do you do? Is art your full time thing?”
“I own the café by the library, but I’m integrating art into the café, I’m teaching a beginner class at the weekend from there.”
“No way! Seriously?” he smiled, looking animated, “your coffee is so good and your cinnamon rolls? Amazing.”
You laughed, “Emily gets the cinnamon roll with the most frosting for you?”
“Yeah,” he flushed, he opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by Aaron Hotchner.
“Reid, we just got called in,” he glanced at you, an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“No, it’s okay,” you smiled when Spencer pushed himself off the railing, “it was really nice to meet you Spencer.”
He flushed and offered you a shy smile, “it was nice to meet you too, I’ll see you soon?”
You nodded and Emily pulled you into a tight hug, whispering in your ear, “I’ll make sure he sees you soon,” you laughed, shaking your head as she pulled away.
On Saturday, you were setting up for the art class when you heard the tinkle of the bell and you glanced up. None other than Spencer Reid was standing in the open doorway, the sun like a halo around his head.
“Thought you might need a hand.”
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rynbutt · 21 days
Text
pierced. pt. 5 | spencer reid.
He was starting to fall for you. Hard. It made him wonder if you'd ever be safe being part of the dangerous life he led.
masterlist
cw: fem!reader, 18+ content (MDNI), smut (oral m!receiving, riding, unprotected sex - WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!!!) fluff, angst, mentions of a body (general criminal minds behaviour)
a/n: ehhehehehe
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The soft rustle of sheets stirred his sleep.
Spencer kept his eyes shut as he was gently coaxed from sleep, his muscles more sore than he remembers them being last night. He let out a tired sigh, a yawn pulling from his mouth as he blinked his eyes open slowly, his eyes starting to adjust to the warm morning sunlight that pooled through the curtains. Spencer’s brain suddenly caught up, realising that this was not his room and these definitely weren’t his  sheets. 
A soft sigh caught his attention and Spencer turned his head to see your bare back, sheets pooled at your waist. Spencer’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at your smooth skin gently bathed in sunlight. It took a moment for the memories of last night to finally be released from the grips of sleep, but he remembered. Remembered the softness of your skin under his fingertips, the gentle kisses you planted along his neck and shoulder, the feeling of you wrapped around him; all of it. 
“Can I?” Your eyes were gentle as you glanced up at Spencer, your fingers resting on the buckle of his belt, waiting for his permission. Spencer’s head was spinning seeing you on your knees in front of him as he sat on your couch with you between his legs. You gently squeezed his knee, getting his attention. “Spence?”
Spencer’s face went hot, running his hands down and face then pushing them through his hair. The memories of your warm lips pressing kisses all over him sent him reeling. Spencer wasn’t exactly experienced when it came to sex and he was sure that with anyone else he would have freaked out and panicked. But with you, it felt warm and intimate, almost natural to him.
The moment you took the head of his cock in your mouth, Spencer’s mind went white, unable to form a single cohesive thought at the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him. You reached up to intertwine your fingers with his, prompting him to use his other hand to guide you exactly where he wanted. You beamed at his nervousness, quickly pulling off of him with a quiet pop to lean up on your knees to kiss his lips softly, calming him down, “you’re doing so good, Spence.”
Spencer reached his hand out toward you, gently playing with the ends of your hair. You stirred at the feeling, eyes blinking open as you felt Spencer’s curious fingertips ghost over the skin of your back. You smiled softly, “G’morning, Spencer,” you greeted softly, your voice laced with sleep. Spencer’s hand suddenly retracted and you rolled over onto your back, glancing at Spencer’s sleepy face as he stared at you with intense affection.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” you whispered back, reaching your hand out to cup his face.
Spencer was always confident in his ability to profile, to solve a case and help his team, but this was uncharted territory for him. The way you bobbed your head slowly, tucking your hair behind your ear as your other hand wrapped around the base of his cock, gently squeezing him. He had never felt anything that was somehow both sinful yet intimate and affectionate. He gently held your hair back for you and it made you want to grin and squeal with delight at how adorable he was. 
The more involuntary noises he made, the faster you bobbed your head and gently sucked at the tip. Spencer grabbed your hand, squeezing softly as you quickened your pace, his groans like music to your ears, “I…I think I’m gonna-”
Spencer’s hand came to gently hold your wrist as your thumb stroked his cheek, “feeling okay, Spence?” you asked, wanting to make sure you didn’t turn his entire brain to mush last night.
“Yeah,” he replied, “I feel great,” he looked like he was trying to suppress a wide smile, the softness of your shared intimacy making his chest bloom with warmth. 
“That’s good,” you chuckled, moving some of his messy hair out of his face. “Do you have to work today?”
Spencer frowned, “yeah, I do. I would have liked to stay here with you though. Maybe get some lunch,” he said through a sigh.
“We have all the time in the world for that, Spence.”
As Spencer came down from the intense high of his orgasm, he suddenly became mortified, realising he finished inside your mouth without much of a warning, which he came to understand a warning was pretty vital in intimate situations.
“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry-” 
You laughed softly, wiping the collected drool off the corner of your mouth, “don’t be sorry, Spencer. I wanted to make you feel good… Did you? …Feel good?”
“I feel like that goes without saying,” he said with a tinge of sass. 
Spencer pulled his boxers and pants back up, scurrying around the room looking for his shirt and other sock. You caught his attention when you sat up in your bed, stretching your arms over your head, your shoulder and neck cracking quietly. Spencer’s eyes glanced down your body, over the swell of your breasts and the dip of your waist. He really wishes he didn’t have to work today.
“Like what you see, pretty boy?” You teased, leaning against the headboard.
“Yes,” he replied like it was obvious.
You chuckled at his response, finally urging yourself to get out of bed. He watched your naked body saunter over to him, your hands reaching up to hook around his neck. Spencer’s hands instinctively held your waist, eyes dipping between the two of you to take in the perfect dips and swells of your body. He leaned down to plant a kiss to your lips, hands cupping your warm cheeks.
He pulled away, brows knitted together as thoughts swirled around.
“What’s going on in there?” You asked softly, your fingertips ghosting over his temple.
He sighed, “I don’t usually… do this kind of stuff.”
“What’s got you nervous?” You questioned, the gentleness of your eyes making him feel safe.
“I just, don’t want to lose… this,” Spencer whispered. “And I don’t want to just take you on one date, or think that I just want to have sex with you or-”
You kissed him gently, letting him sigh against you, “I don’t think any of that, Spence,” you reassured him, watching as he relaxed slightly under your soft gaze.
“...Do you want to come to Rossi’s dinner party with me next Friday?” Spencer suddenly asked. “As my date,” he clarified.
You grinned, “I’d love to.”
Spencer knew this was going to stay in his mind forever. He watched as your breasts bounced in front of him, one of his hands coming up to rub at your pierced nipple while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as you bounced on his cock. You let out soft moans as Spencer’s hips met yours, your hands wrapped around his shoulders, nails scraping against his skin. 
“You feel- so good,” he whined out, his breath hot against the column of your throat. You moaned softly, feeling the warmth bloom in your belly. You grabbed Spencer’s hand that was pinching at your nipple and trailed it down between your bodies, pressing his thumb to your neglected clit.
Spencer was a fast learner, you showed him what you wanted and he complied, rubbing small circles on the swollen bud. You let out a loud whine at the feeling, tipping your head back as Spencer kissed your shoulder, gently biting the skin between your neck and shoulder. 
“Don’t stop,” you moaned quietly, your slick forming a white ring around the base of his cock. Spencer’s head was spinning as he tried to hold on for you, making you feel as good as you made him feel when you were on your knees in front of him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whined, bouncing faster and faster on his lap as you tipped over the edge, prompting Spencer to rub tighter circles on your sensitive clit.
“I’m gonna- again-” Spencer groaned against your shoulder, his arm around your waist tightening until you were pressed tight against his chest. You held his head and kissed him as he finished inside you, his hands gripping your hips as his own hips stuttered against you. 
Spencer was breathless as he panted against you, sweat forming a light sheen over his skin. Your thumb traced softly beneath his lashes, “you’re so pretty.”
Spencer walked into the bullpen with a slight airiness to him that did not go unnoticed. Spencer made himself a cup of coffee at the kitchenette, his second cup of the day after sharing one with you before he left. Morgan glanced at him sideways as he made his own coffee, noticing the slight confidence that Spencer never usually exuded.
“Fun night, pretty boy?” Morgan asked, stirring his coffee. 
“Was pretty normal,” Spencer lied, trying to remain inconspicuous, which proved to be rather difficult when mostly everyone he knew and worked with were profilers.
“Normal, hm? You just seem… very relaxed,” Morgan replied.
“Am I not always relaxed?” Spencer questioned, glancing at Morgan.
“The Reid I know is usually wound pretty tight,” Emily interjected, placing her empty mug in the sink. Spencer dropped his spoon on the counter.
“Am I being interrogated?” Spencer asked, eyes narrowing at the two of them.
Morgan and Emily pursed their lips, shaking their heads. Emily raised her hands in surrender, returning to her desk. 
Morgan took a sip from his coffee, “nice hickey.”
“Shit,” Spencer slapped a hand over his neck, pulling on the collar of his shirt to try and cover the evidence of his late night escapade. 
Morgan chuckled as he sipped his coffee, walking back toward the meeting room and finally releasing Spencer of his questioning, “Come on, lover boy. We got another case.”
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Cases barely bothered Spencer so deeply. He was able to compartmentalise pretty well, treat every case as a case and not get emotionally involved. Sure, there were a handful of times when he got over-involved in some things, but he was rarely ever bothered. 
When he and Emily were assigned to visit the dump site of a body and begin a profile, he was fine until he saw the body. She was a young woman, mutilated and dumped by a river. The problem was, she looked like you. 
Spencer felt his heart thumping in his chest, he knew it wasn’t you, but she shared a lot of her features with you. And that deeply bothered him. Emily noticed Spencer’s behaviour the moment he hesitated getting any closer to the body. Spencer cared about you, he liked you a lot and had a deep desire to protect you, especially after the intimacy you shared the night before.
“You okay, Reid?” Emily asked from where she was crouched down by the woman’s body.
Spencer sighed quietly, “yeah. Yeah I’m fine.”
“Take a minute, I can handle this,” she replied. 
Spencer glanced at her, “No, I’m okay. She just-”
“-looks like Y/N?”
“Yeah.”
Emily sighed sympathetically, “go see her when we fly home. It’ll make you feel better.”
Spencer nodded, his lips forming a tight line. The other victims in the case didn’t look like you, just that one girl, he was able to bury the feeling for the rest of the case but he was antsy to get back to Virginia so he could see you.
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You sat on your couch eating ramen you bought from a place you discovered recently, eyes glued to the TV as you watched a pretty terrible soap opera that you dare not turn off. You were far too invested in the ridiculousness of it to turn it off.
There was a sudden knock on your door. You turned the volume of the TV down, putting your ramen on the table in front of you. You walked over to your door, peering through the peephole. You were pleasantly surprised to see Spencer.
You opened the door, “Spence? I didn’t think you were back until-”
He suddenly crashed into you, your sentence falling flat as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his cheek against your hair. You hugged him back, hands gripping his shirt and holding him close. His sudden appearance made you nervous, wondering what prompted it.
“What’s going on, Spencer?” You asked quietly, pulling away from him to cup his cheek.
“I just needed to see you,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper. You frowned sympathetically, deducing it was probably his most recent case.
“You want to talk about it?” Your voice was gentle.
“Not right now,” Spencer said, “...Can we just stay like this?”
You nodded, “of course we can.”
Spencer spent the night holding you close, revelling in the feeling of your heart beat and the sound of your quiet breathing. He had just found someone who listened to him intently, liked the things he liked and liked him. He knew the fear was somewhat irrational, but the idea of losing you upset him, made him think irrationally, which was something that never happened to him. 
You stroked your hand through his hair, your warm fingertips soothing his nervousness and helping him calm down. He felt safe in your arms and it made him wonder if he deserved your kindness and your gentleness. 
Was it right for him to drag you into his dangerous life?
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a/n: watch this become my whole personality
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