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#spencer read x reader
bogginswritings · 18 days
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Spencer Reid x reader blurb. I was peer pressured into writing this. I'm still at season 3 so if this is ooc, well. Not proofread.
The light was gentle, a golden hue filling the room from where the lamp stood on the bedside table. Your fingers threaded through blonde curls, occasionally scratching over the head that rested on your lap.
Spencer had come home later than he intended. And while you insisted he went to sleep, he insisted to at least spent some quality time together. If only for half an hour. This added by 'I'm not tired at all!'. Thus you were in bed, both holding a copy of the same book.
You could hear the rustle as he flipped to the next page, the fifth one while you were still on the same you started.
"You said you'd read slow," You muttered. You could basically sense the corner of his mouth tilting upward as he replied with "I am reading slower."
You snorted, "Where you at anyway?"
"Uhh, just started chapter 11."
You gave him a playful hit on the head with the back of your copy, "Showoff."
"Auw?" he turned his head, glaring up at you. You chuckled, removing your hand from his hair, "Do you even enjoy it when you read this fast?"
He grabbed your wrist, plopping it back on his head. With a grin you continued to play with the strands. "I do, it just plays in my head like a movie I guess."
"I think my movie is in slow motion," you snorted, wrapping a strand around your finger and letting it bounce back in a curl. He shrugged, now tossing the book aside, "I'm sure you excel in other fields."
"Wauw, jerk," you pulled your hand down from the top of his head to his face, lightly pushing it away, "I was promised Spencer would be a nice boyfriend, I want to return you."
"Too bad, I ate the receipt," He muttered, slightly muffled from your palm smothering his face. He swatted your hand away, spluttering and blinking as he blew the hair from his face.
You giggled, "Disgusting."
"Get used to it," he batted his eyelashes, "You're stuck with me."
"Poor me," you feigned, your fingers once again finding the comfort of his curls as your eyes searched for the sentence you left off of. He let out a hum, "I'll pretend you said 'lucky'."
"Sure, baby," you smiled. For a few minutes a comfortable silence fell over you. When you flipped the last page of your chapter you figured it was probably best to end there, "I'm at chapter 5, could you remember that for me?"
"..."
"Spence?" You put your book down, met by your boyfriend with closed eyes. The occasional snore leaving his lips.
Not tired my ass.
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reidiot · 9 months
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don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude
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realangelahernandez · 3 months
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Go to therapy or read another fan fiction of your favorite fictional character?
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gaycentral · 1 month
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Confession
Summary: In the heat of the moment, JJ confesses her love for Spencer despite being married. Spencer has a confession of his own.
@delusionaldeadgirl @yomamacrusty
Warnings: Uhhhh JJ’s kind of a jerk in this (sorry JJ ily but you shouldn’t have done that when you’re married), kinda suggestive for a second there but nothing happens? Spencer gets mean for a second there, Protective Husband Mode (tm) I clearly don’t know how to write relationships please be nice to me.
Things had been…tense, to say the least. JJ still wondered why she’d done it, she was a married woman, she had kids. She loved Will, no doubt about it, but Spencer?
Spencer was different. She’d known him for a decade now, and even after everything he’d gone through, he was still him, even if changed. Brilliant and kind, gentle and warm and unbelievably loving. He had so much love to give, and he held it inside, a tight ball in his chest that seemed ready to burst.
Perhaps that’s why she did it. She wanted some of that love from him. It was foolish, she knew that, it was selfish. It was unfair to Will, to Spencer, to herself. But, much to her own dismay, she didn’t care. She wanted so desperately to hear him say it back, to take her in his arms, to hold her and love her the way she’d always wanted him to, even if it wasn’t realistic.
But she still hoped.
“JJ.” Spencer’s usual soft cadence broke the tense silence of the break room as he stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched and his eyes trained intently on her. JJ felt her heart speed up. Was this it? Was her outlandish fantasy not so outlandish after all? She watched him, absorbed him. His big brown eyes as he gazed at her, the familiar pinch in his brow, his messy curls that always looked so unfairly soft.
Spencer took a few steps forward, but he didn’t get as close as she wanted him to, maintaining a respectful distance, and JJ felt the familiar ache of yearning. Closer, she begged internally. Please.
“Yes?” She finally opted as a response, the glint in her eyes betraying the growing feeling of excitement. She knew Spencer quite well, or she thought she did, and he certainly seemed nervous. Nervous enough for a confession.
“I have something to tell you.” Spencer finally said, one of his hands pulling something she couldn’t see from under his collar, attached to the chain of a necklace, and rubbing his thumb over it in a self-soothing motion. “I should have told you before.”
This was it, JJ thought to herself, her inner voice was almost squealing with excitement. Her breath caught in anticipation, and a smile began to grow on her face.
“I know.” She said, perhaps rather presumptuously, too impatient for him to say it, and she said those oh-so-dangerous words once again. “I love you too.”
The air hung between them for a moment, and when Spencer didn’t say it back, JJ’s smile began to fade. Oh no. Was she too presumptuous? Was Spencer not ready to say it? Had she ruined everything? Oh god, what if he was already in a relationship?
“No.” Spencer shook his head, a frown creasing his features in a way that made JJ’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “JJ, I’m married.”
JJ’s heart stopped. Her worst fear confirmed. No. No…that didn’t make sense, where was the ring? She’d never met his spouse, he’d never spoken of them. Was this a trick? A lie? Surely he was kidding. He’d break out into his infectious smile and say it back, any time now.
“I’ve been married for years. And I love them more than anything.” His hand opened and he showed JJ the wedding ring, noticing her bewilderment. “I wear it around my neck so I don’t lose it. It’s easier to hide from prying eyes that way.”
JJ felt as though she were listening to him speak underwater, her head swimming with confusion, with anger, with grief. No, no, no. This wasn’t fair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted something for myself.” Spencer’s face was still marred by a frown, and he tucked the ring necklace back under his collar. “You’re not entitled to know about every part of my life.”
It wasn’t fair to him, but this made JJ angrier, and she began to speak before thinking. “Who is it? Some…some stand in for me? I know you felt something for me once! They’re just a replacement because you couldn’t have me!”
To say Spencer was shocked by her outburst was the understatement of the century. The gentleness and patience he often associated with JJ had seemingly vanished, morphing into bitterness, lashing out from embarrassment and jealousy.
JJ looked past Spencer for a moment, and locked eyes with you. You. Of course. How had she been so blind? Of course it was you who had snatched Spencer up, who’d taken his affection for yourself.
You were staring her down, brow furrowed deeply and gaze sharp with a glare. You’d been listening in. Spencer had told you he wanted to deal with this on his own, and you respected his wishes…but that didn’t mean you weren’t weighing the consequences of throwing your stapler at her.
“They’re not a replacement.” That rare, dangerous edge to Spencer’s voice made it’s return, this time directed at JJ, which had never happened before. “I had a crush on you, what, ten years ago? That’s all. That’s it. Nothing more.”
He stepped closer to JJ, brow deeply furrowed and a darkness in his eyes that made her shrink, her insults dying in her throat.
“I’m a patient man, so I’ll only warn you once. Don’t ever talk about them like that again. You don’t want to find out what will happen the next time.”
The mosh frightening part was that his threat could be entirely genuine. Prison had changed him, rage festered in him like a disease, a rage that hadn’t existed before. And he was clever, so very clever, he didn’t need to lay a finger on JJ to hurt her. He never would.
Spencer abruptly left the break room, storming out of the bullpen, and you quickly followed, too worried about him to bother giving JJ one last withering glare. Although it did cross your mind.
It took a bit of searching, but you found him in the men’s bathroom. His hands clutched the counter, his tie loose, his head hung over the sink. You frown, hearing his deep breaths as he tried to calm himself.
You slowly approach before wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, and he meets your gaze in the mirror, his muscles noticeably relaxing beneath your hold, his grip on the counter loosening as lets out a heavy sigh.
He turns in your arms until he can hold you properly, his chin resting atop your head, the two of you gently swaying side to side as you hold each other. His eyes slip closed in a moment of peace, and he dips his head slightly to press a kiss to your forehead.
“So…you threatened JJ for me?” Despite the question, you keep your tone playful, trying to lighten the mood and you hear Spencer groan.
“You heard that?” He mumbled, shame causing his cheeks to burn. He knew he’d stepped over a line, and he regretted it, but a part of him didn’t. A part of him thought it was deserved.
“Yup. And I know I shouldn’t encourage that, but it was very sweet that you stood up for me…and a bit of a turn on. Just so you know.” Not letting go of him, you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, smiling up at him, taking joy in his surprised laugh and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“I suppose I’ll have to keep that in mind.” His tone was warm, affectionate, watching you intently as you straightened his tie for him, the grin fading into a soft smile.
“You know that JJ was wrong, right? None of that stuff she said is true.” He worried that maybe you’d taken her words to heart—or worse, that it was something you truly believed long before today.
“I know.” You smile up at him, hands moving from his tie to rest on his chest, the fabric of his suit jacket smooth beneath your palms. “You gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be alright.” Spencer assured you, but his fingers curled lightly around your wrists, pulling you back into him, placing a soft kiss on your lips before resting his cheek on top of your head. “I’d just like to stay like this for a few more minutes.”
“I can work with that.”
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Margaritas and Mistakes
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).
Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.
A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!
PART TWO!
You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.
“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.
“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”
“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.
“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”
“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.
“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”
“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”
You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.
“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.
“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.
“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”
“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.
“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”
This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.
“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…
–X–
After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.
You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.
Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.
“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.
“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.
“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.
“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.
“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.
“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.
“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.
“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.
“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.
“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"
“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.
“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.
“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.
“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.
“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.
“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.
–X–
Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.
After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.
So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.
But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.
But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.
He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.
You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.
“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.
“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.
“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.
Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.
“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.
You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.
Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.
“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.
“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”
“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.
“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.
“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.
“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.
“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.
“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.
“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”
They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.
“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.
“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.
“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.
The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.
“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.
“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”
“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”
“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”
“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.
–X–
Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.
“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.
“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.
“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.
“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.
“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.
“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.
Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.
“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.
“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.
Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.
“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.
“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.
Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.
“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.
As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.
You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.
“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.
“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.
He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.
“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”
“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.
“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”
And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.
PART TWO
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tlou-reid · 2 months
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Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!
as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3
spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.
the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.
yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.
you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.
and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.
spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.
so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.
much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.
he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.
his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.
his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.
the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.
“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”
the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”
spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.
you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.
your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.
“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.
you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.
you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.
“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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spinningspencer · 27 days
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Just thinking about how Spencer Reid would refuse to go to work in the morning without a goodbye from you.
If he gets his way, he gives you a long kiss, a bit too long to be just a goodbye kiss, but neither of you ever complain about it. A tight hug will do too, or some soft kisses stolen from your still sleepy lips when he gets a call from Hotch in the middle of the night.
But the worst days are when he can get nothing but a "Goodbye" or "love you" text because you weren't home when he had to leave for work. The whole team immediately knows that he didn't get his goodbye when he walks into the bureau without the usual sparkle in his eyes.
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vaeblurbs · 7 months
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I LIKE YOU, IDIOT
pairings: spencer reid x gn!reader.
in which you have a flirty personality with everyone on the team, except spencer, and he starts to notice.
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you walked out of the elevator and towards your desk, located across from spencer’s desk. “hey, spence.” you softly whispered.
he yawned and looked up from his computer screen to face you, “hey. what are you doing here so late?” he questioned.
“oh, you’re not happy to see me?” you joked, quickly retracting your statement when you saw his panicked expression. “i was kidding, spencer, sorry.” you laughed, pausing for a second, “i’m just bringing my go bag back, then i’m going home until the next case.” you held up your bag before you opened a cabinet next to your desk and placed it inside. “i could ask the same question. what are you doing here?” you hummed.
“i was doing the same thing as you, but i got caught up in some of these case files.” he replied, earning a nod from you.
“okay, well, make sure you get some rest, alright? we need that genius brain of yours.” you smiled, spencer biting back his own smile, watching as you walked back towards the elevator, pressing the ‘down’ button. the elevator doors opened moments later and you strolled in, turning around to face the doors as they started to shut. “hold on!” spencer abruptly got up, not even aware of what he was doing as he ran towards the elevator, stopping the doors from closing so he could get in with you.
“you heading out now?” you raised an eyebrow.
spencer scratched the back of his neck, his lips pressed into a firm line, “no.” He said.
“oh?..”
he looked at your confused face, suddenly feeling nervous. “i’ve been wanting to ask you this for a long time, actually, since a while after you joined the team.” spencer started.
“okay, shoot.”
“why don’t you flirt with me?” he gulped.
“excuse me?” you shook your head, taken aback by the question.
“you, uh, jokingly flirt with everyone on the team, especially with morgan and even with hotch? but, you’ve never once done that with me. are we not friends?” he frowned. he started feeling stupid, something that rarely happened to the young genius, when you let out a laugh.
“spence, of course we’re friends! i consider you one of my closest friends.” you reassured him.
“so what is it then? am i not funny? do i not have the looks for you to joke around about, stuff like that, with me?” the man started feeling insecure the more he rambled on about why you don’t do the same with him.
you decided to cut his rant off, “i like you, idiot.” you scoffed.
“what?” he looked stunned, not even noticing the elevator doors started to open.
you grabbed his hand, leading him out of the elevator, “i don’t joke around like that with you because if i did, i wouldn’t be joking anymore, okay?” you grinned, stepping closer to him.
spencer didn’t know what to say, so he instead decided to pull you closer to him. he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you.
“take me out tomorrow, after work.” you pulled away from the kiss moments later, despite the fact that you wanted to keep going. “deal?” you asked him.
“deal.” he grinned.
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andiebeaword · 4 months
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Andie’s September 2023 Fic Recs
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These are more current fic recs of mine, some I’ve read only on AO3, so if you have the link to it on tumblr, please let me know!
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• Dedicated to New Lovers: @sweatervest-obsessed Spencer breaks up with Fem!Reader. She, in return, tries her best to help him save Maeve.
• You're Keeping Me Down: @/sweatervest-obessed Reader discovers an engagement ring when moving out of Spencer's apartment.
• Every Single Day: @astrophileous Spencer recounts how he and his wife met to their daughter.
• I'm Not Yours: @sofiareidings You're getting over a breakup and meet a cute guy on a case, what you didn't realise was that your best friend has been waiting for years.
• We'll Be Alright: @unseededtoast In which you discover that the line between love and hate is quite fine. Your actions are done out of love, but they only make you hate yourself more and more.
• F is for Fun: @dr-spencer-reids-queen You buy something that will make chores a lot more fun.
• The Stolen Donut: @blue-babygirl You didn't know that Spencer doesn't like sharing his sweets nor did you know that they were his donuts. Oh well.
~ more under the cut ~
• I Can See You: @dream-a-little-bigger-x When Penelope’s best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there’s an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?
• Birthday Wishes: @violetrainbow412-blog Everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it.
• Wishes Fulfilled: @violetrainbow412-blog After an unfortunate event, Spencer questions what he really feels about his childhood best friend.
• False Confidence: @spencerreidswhore187 Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.
• I Can See You: @pastanest Spencer doesn't believe in love at first sight. Or does he?
• Heart Full of You: @a-simple-gaywitch When Spencer goes to pick Henry up from school for JJ, he doesn’t expect to fall head-over-heels for his teacher.
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• Elevator Pitch: @reiderwriter Getting trapped in an elevator is never fun, but at least the attractive you're sharing the metal box of death with has an interesting idea about how you can pass the time.
• Back to School Night: @sunsetreid Spencer is your daughter’s elementary school teacher, and they finally meet at back to school night
• One Bright Morning: @unseededtoast After experiencing the most traumatic moment of your life, Spencer helps guide you through the darkness into one bright morning that changes the both of you. (Based off of “First Light” by Hozier)
• Wildest Dreams: [Reidams] @fortheloveofwonderland Right before Cat Adams is executed she can’t help but ruminate on the things she didn’t do…
• NSFW Request: @reiderwriter Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.
• The Us That Could Have Been: @/reiderwriter They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.
• NSFW Request: @/reiderwriter Fem!Reader is gynophobia and Spencer helps her work through her fear.
• Human: @sinfulspencer Reader shows Spencer that prison might have changed him, but he’s still the love of her life. She’s going to stick by his side until he gets tired of her. Based on the song ‘Human’ by Daughter.
• "Technically" Not a Student: @reidmotif Reader is Alex Blake’s TA, and after a guest lecture, Spencer seems to take a liking to her .
• Stressed: @sailorholly Spencer’s been in a bad mood lately, you help him feel better.
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• No Distance Left to Run: [completed] @fortheloveofwonderland Truth or Dare? A harmless teenage game gone wrong when spoken by the man holding you hostage. And when you’re feelings for your best friend come to light after fifteen years, how will you and Spencer cope in the aftermath?
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• MGG Fem!Reader Blurb: @babymetaldoll (Y/N) Gubler needs her husband’s help to pick a prompt to write a Halloween story. Luckily, Matthew is a Halloween expert.
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inmyminditsreal · 8 months
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I'll protect you
Fem!reader x spencer reid
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Word count: 661
Summary: The BAU goes to a bar to unwind after a hard case. You get some unwanted attention to which Spencer immediately comes to your defense.
Everyone arrives at the bar, we pick a table close to the back so we can talk.
“I can’t believe it took us that long.” Emily states.
“Yeah, I mean- the husband. He was right under our noses the entire time.” Derek responds.
“At least we caught the guy.” you say, trying to lighten the mood “wanna go dance?” you ask.
Both JJ and Emily agree, so you walk up to the dancefloor and start swaying. You laugh at each others stupid dance moves and funny faces until,
“I have to go to the bathroom- I’ll be right back.” JJ says. Emily had already gone to buy us drinks, so it was just you. It’s fine, pretty crowded anyway. A man approaches you and asks,
“Oh come on- one drink ain’t gonna hurt you.” He starts and you reluctantly respond with,
“Hey there little lady, why don’t I buy you a drink?” You quickly reply with, “No, thanks though.”
“No, thank you.”
“I didn’t say that was an option.” He growls, moving closer. Suddenly, he grabs your ass. You're about to push him off when someone already does that for you. It's Spencer.
“Get your hands off her and leave her alone.” He blazes at the man.
“Woah woah woah, calm down- I was just having a little fun!” The man responds while winking at you.
“She said no, you didn’t listen so get the fuck out of here. Now.” He snarls at the man.
“Fuck you man! FUCK YOU!” The man shouts before barely walking to the bar in a straight line. JJ and Emily walk up after hearing the commotion and quickly run up to comfort you. Spencer was still following the man, I saw him show his badge, then the guy hurried off. You start to tear up. Spencer walks over to you and asks,
“I’m so sorry, are you okay?”
“Yea- it’s fine.” you reply while wrapping him into a big hug. He returns the favor, and you stay like this for a minute or two.
The three of them sit you down and explain the situation to the rest of the team. Everybody is pissed. Spencer offers to take you home, to which you agree.
In his car we start the drive, and he asks, “Are you really okay? You didn’t deserve any of that.” He continued, “I told the bartender about the guy. He said he’d make sure he never goes in the bar again.”
“Thank you, spence.” you reply.
“Answer my question, are you okay?” He asks.
“Not really- I just feel gross.” You answer.
“I’m so sorry- is there anything I can do?” He questions you carefully.
“This may be a bit much, but- would you mind staying the night with me?” You mutter back.
The last thing you want is to be alone.
“Of course.” He smiles back.
Back at my place, you walk up to your room and get ready for bed. Once you're ready, you grab Spencer and take him to the room.
“Do you have spare blankets and pillows?” He asks.
“For what?” you respond, confused.
“Well, you only have one bed so I’m assuming that I’m sleeping on the floor.” He murmurs back.
“Oh- it’s up to you. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Thank you again for staying the night.” You tell him.
“Oh um, okay. No problem, I’d do this for you anytime.” He replies while smiling.
You smile back and thank him for standing up for you in the bar as well. He smiles and waves it off as nothing but a necessity.
He chooses to sleep in bed with you. He ends up laying on his back, arm stretched out. You're laying on that arm until he wraps it around you.
“Goodnight.” You whisper.
“Goodnight, just know I will always be here to protect you, no matter what. I love you.” He whispers back.
You couldn't be more grateful for him.
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starrystormwritings · 8 months
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Something's Off
Something's Off
Master List <3 Request List <3 Criminal Minds Master List
Spencer Reid x Reader
A/n: Hey so I haven't written anything in over a year and this is my first criminal minds thing ever so any criticism is welcomed. This was written at 3am so any bad grammar or writing can be excused in my opinion lol. Please consider sending me some requests or ideas for anything on my request list, I'm desperate to get back to being active on here but I'm running low on ideas.
Summary: You and Spencer work at the BAU and after a lapse in Spencer's judgment you end up getting hurt.
Warnings: Murder, guns, shooting, stabbing, blood, hospitals, possible death, general criminal minds talk to gruesome murders
Word Count: 2669
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(NOT MY GIF)
"There she is, we were starting to think you'd quit on us." Derek joked as me and Spencer walked into the briefing room hand in hand.
After a particularly long and emotional case I had decided to take some time to myself to recover from it.
It had only been a week but in this job that felt like years.
"Yep here I am, no need to worry. I know how much you all missed me." I said with a laugh while sitting down at the round table, Spencer going to grab our coffees.
"Can't argue with that, lover boy over there has been lost without you." Emily said with a laugh smiling at me.
Everyone else had taken their seats as Spencer sat next to me, sliding my coffee in front of me with an excited smile.
"Well as much as I wouldn't use the word lost I have missed having you around here." He blushed lightly, trying to speak in the least awkward manner as he could.
I knew he had missed me at work, everyday he came home to our apartment he'd be glued to my side explaining every detail of the case he'd just gotten back from, wanting to hear my opinions and spend time with me.
As much as hearing about work took away the point of taking time off from it watching Spencer ramble on passionately and excitedly to me was nice.
Plus if I'm being honest with myself I'd be bored without it.
"Six women have been found dead in a suburban town in Texas, all between the ages of twenty to thirty and have appeared within forty-eight hours of each other." Hotch explained whilst Penelope showed the pictures of the crime scenes behind him.
"All girls were found within sixteen hours of being deceased and had already been missing for more than a day, meaning he keeps them before murdering them. He has stabbed them all once in the abdomen, careful not to hit any vital organs so the body doesn't shut down. Instead he stabs them to leave them to slowly bleed out." Penelope added whilst handing folders of information out to everyone.
"So it's likely he already has another girl with him now?" Rossi asked with a frown as he flicked his folder open.
"More than likely yes, and with and increasing confidence and skill set we can only assume he's going to continue at a quicker or more brutal pace the longer he's able to." Spencer added, looking to the group with a smile that matched nothing that he just said.
I sighed and looked at the images in front of me, at least this case seemed fairly simple in comparison to some of what we've had to face.
~~~
"This guy is most likely a social younger man who holds enough respect and familiarity within the area for people to feel comfortable enough to get into his vehicle alone at night. He doesn't force his victims to comply they willingly trust him until it's too late due to his natural charm and charisma. Then he holds them for a day before killing and disposing of them. He doesn't hurt them in their time of captivity, meaning he most likely feels remorse or is unsure of his actions, but the thrill of the kill is to enticing for him to let them go. He's confident within his ability to kill, shown in the slow and precise manner he takes in the murder. He is most likely a local who has lived here his whole life due to his knowledge of the area and the trust everyone has toward him. He also appears confident in his ability to not be caught, since he dumps the bodies rather than hiding them. He believes he's more intelligent than most people and above the law, and his high IQ helps fuel this narcissistic ideal he has of himself. That is all thank you." Hotch walks away from the room of police officers who were noting down his profile, gesturing to Emily, Rossi and Derek to follow him into an interrogation room.
I jumped up from the table I was sat on and gathered my notes from next to me.
"I just don't understand how we could have such a sick individual in our community doing this to women. It's just shocking to me." Officer Davis said from beside me.
He was the head officer on the case and the chief of police in this town, he'd been assisting me and Spencer in the last few hours with trying to create an idea of where to begin looking.
"Yeah it always comes as a shock when a member of your community causes something like this." I offered him a small smile whilst gathering my stuff to head over to Spencer, Officer Davis following closely behind me.
"I just can't believe something like this could happen here."
"Can you think of any groups of people within the community that hold a lot of respect and trust? Like public speakers, church groups, large charity groups or public helpers?" I asked him flicking to the page of possible careers I had, smiling at Spencer as I settled my stuff next to him.
"Well apart from the obvious like the police and fire force, I couldn't think of anything. We're quite a religious area but none of our churches have any well known priests that everyone would know, we have too many churches and priests for people to form personal connections with. Although we do have a large neighbourhood watch group. They do nightly patrols in cars around the streets and main roads. They're a very large group of people."
Spencer's head shot up at the last bit. "Do they have a known leader people would know? Or any type of uniform they wear to be recognisable?" He asked Davis while scribbling something on his whiteboard.
"Not uniforms no. Although, the patrol cars they use do have these stick on lights they use to be recognisable. Pauls the leader, he tells people when their needed for patrol."
"So our unsub could be a patrol member, approaching women in his car so they know he's apart of the watch group and trust him enough to get into the car without any hesitation!" Spencer said turning to Davis "I need a list of names of the leaders of the group."
I opened my phone, calling Penelope "I'll get a list of the people on patrol the nights that these girls were taken, see if there's anyone that was working every night."
~~~
Less than a day, that's all we had to find this woman before it was too late.
I was stood in an office with Spencer and Rossi, bouncing ideas off of each other, hoping something stuck.
"Penelope got him." Derek said with a smile walking into the room.
"Paul Fredrick, thirty-five years old, lived here his whole life, was arrested ten years ago for an assault against an twenty-one year old woman, and in charge of the neighbourhood watch patrol schedule." Spencer read from the paper Derek just handed him.
"Hotch, Emily and that detective are already heading there. We need to go this girl probably hasn't got that long left." Derek said gesturing us out of the door quickly.
~~~
"He's confessed." Spencer said with a smile, kissing me on the head as he took a seat next to me.
I'd been sat in this empty office in the police station for an hour now, something just doesn't feel right.
"Really? Doesn't that seem strange to you? I mean according to the profile this guy is confident and intelligent. Surly he wouldn't confess after an hour of interrogation." I bit my lip lightly as I re-read my notes again and again.
"Well sometimes the profile isn't completely correct. Plus they found the girl in an abandoned warehouse a ten minute drive away from his house." Spencer shrugged "he isn't as confident as the profile indicates, he was also quite anxious and stressed when confronted which was surprising, but the evidence points to him and he's confessed. All of the logic adds up."
"I guess. I just don't feel right." I sigh and look up to him with a frown.
He matches my expression and stands up, kissing my forehead lightly before collecting his stuff. "You probably just need some rest it's been a long weekend. The plane leaves in an hour, I'll go collect our stuff for us."
He gave me one more smile before leaving the room. As I glanced after him I saw the rest of the station basically empty and the time was three in the morning.
With another sigh I gathered my stuff and headed out the door. Maybe ten minutes outside in the fresh air would chill me out.
"Everything alright?" A voice from behind me asked, making me jump.
"Davis hi you scared me." I said with a laugh, holding the door for him as we both walked outside. "Everything's okay yeah I'm just rethinking the case."
"What's bothering you about it?" He asked, lighting himself a cigarette.
"I don't know, the whole thing just seems off, I mean why would Fredrick confess so quickly? He doesn't match the profile at all, he's awkward and of a lower intelligence. I just don't see how he could do this alone. Plus why would he take these woman to an abandoned warehouse that could be accessed to the public or the police whenever rather than his own house? He lived alone in an remote area with no neighbours. It just doesn't add up." I shrugged and pulled my arms closer to me since the cold was nipping at my arms.
All of a sudden I felt a blunt pain hit the side of my head.
~~~
(Spencers pov)
"Everything alright kid?" Derek asks me with a concerned look.
"Yeah, I'm just worried about Y/n." I reply, fidgeting with my fingers as I talk "She's been questioning the case and I'm starting to think she might've been onto something."
"What do you mean?"
"Well didn't Fredrick seem odd to you? He had a low IQ and no charisma at all, even if you knew of him I doubt many people would willingly get into his car. Plus he transported the girls for no reason, he put himself at risk by doing it in that warehouse rather than his own home. There's no way he could've done this alone."
"What are you getting at here kid?"
"Well didn't he come across to you as more of a submissive personality?"
"You think we have two unsubs here? A team?"
I shook my head quickly calling Y/n as I spoke. 
"No not a specifically a team. A dominant who lured the girls and killed them, and a submissive who picked the girls out, disposed of the bodies and took the fall. It would make sense, Fredrick was to easy to find, this unsub would be to intelligent to be this simple. Fredrick was on patrol the nights the girls were taken, he most likely saw them first and then alerted the other unsub of them so he could then take them."
"Well if this unsub was so intelligent how come it was so easy to find his partner?"
The phone rang out, that's strange Y/n always picks up.
"He wanted us to. He pointed us in that direction to throw us off, he didn't need Fredrick and he knew he would stay loyal if he was caught. He wanted us to catch Fredrick so we'd leave."
Derek's eyes went wide as he got his phone out of his phone to call someone.
"You know who told us about the neighbourhood watch and the list of likely suspects?"
Derek asked with a frown.
"Davis."
~~~
"Has anyone seen Y/n?" I asked as I walked into the room that the rest of the team were in.
They all looked at me with worried expressions as Emily handed me my bulletproof vest.
"According to the CCTV she was last seen leaving the station with Officer Davis" Hotch said clearing his throat, trying to remain stern and collected even though he was as distraught as the rest of the team.
"What?" my face fell as I scanned the room, everyone either looking away from me or straight at me with concern. 
Derek's phone beeped and everyone's heads snapped up to look at him as he stood. "Pen's got an address, lets go."
~~~
"FBI!" Derek yelled as he kicked down the door, letting himself into the house as I followed behind, gun trained ahead of me.
"What am I looking for here Reid?" he asked, clearing the first room.
"A basement most likely." I said walking ahead, spotting a door that appeared to be heading downstairs.
I nodded my head toward it and Derek went ahead, opening it slowly and walking down.
I followed close behind him, a loud smash was heard from in front of us and before I could even see Derek shot, leaving Davis on the floor.
"He tried to run, threw something glass at me." Derek said, gesturing to the blood from the new cut on his arm.
"Can you see her anywhere?" I pushed in front of him as he flicked on the light switch.
I scanned the room before my eyes landed on her figure in the corner, laying on the floor looking pale and bleeding from somewhere. "Y/N!" I ran over there, putting my gun away as Derek called for a medic through the radio.
"Hey your going to be okay. I'm so sorry, I should've listened I'm so sorry. Y/n please. Come on open your eyes. Please..." I felt Derek's hand on my shoulder as I started to cry.
Before I could comprehend what was happening a group of medics came in and surrounded her, Derek pulling me out of the room.
~~~
I paced the hospital waiting room floor, it had been hours and we'd heard nothing.
Emily was asleep on two chairs. Hotch was sat looking at the floor, tapping his foot anxiously. Rossi had been standing up to speak to the receptionist every ten minuets, and Derek had be constantly picking up calls from Penelope who had kept ringing for updates despite Derek promising to call her as soon as we knew.
And I had basically paced a hole through the floor.
"Reid sit down and eat something. Stop punishing yourself." Hotch said with a frown.
I shook my head and continued pacing. "I can't, I should've listened to her, or stayed with her. I didn't even try first aid I just froze when I saw her..." I replied, voice cracking.
A doctor cleared his throat behind us "Y/n L/n?"
We all looked up at him with matching worried expressions.
I held my breath as we waited for him to say something.
"She was stabbed in the abdomen but luckily suffered no trauma to any organs. She's lost a lot of blood but she's going to be okay. She's just woken up so she's a bit out of it but she can take one visitor."
I felt my whole body relax as I took a breath.
"She's okay?" I asked again with a shaky breath.
Derek put his hand on my shoulder and nodded with a smile "She's going to be okay kid."
I let out a little sob and nodded my head with a small smile.
"Reid you should go see her, let her know we're all here." Hotch said patting my other shoulder.
I nodded at both of them and followed after the doctor, taking a seat next to her bed, holding her hand in mine as carefully as I could.
She opened her eyes, slowly turning her head to look at me.
Somehow she was still smiling as bright as ever, provoking my face to mirror hers on instinct.
"Hey you." she said with a small laugh.
"Hi." I kissed her knuckles, a few tears escaping my eyes as I looked at her.
"Why're you crying? I'm the one who's be stabbed dumbass." she joked with a small laugh, causing me to chuckle.
"I love you so much, don't you ever do this again. I really thought I'd lost you. I don't know what I would've done."
"I'll try my best to stay alive then, just for you Spence."
She smiled sweetly at me with another small laugh, I admired her face for a second before leaning in to kiss her lips softly.
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bogginswritings · 22 days
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season one spence is the best anyway
WRITE SOME SHIT YOU PUSSY i asked while batting my eyelashes
OKAY OKAY OKAY
Right now I am being held under gunpoint to open requests for Spencer reid/j
Feel free to leave some requests, I'm almost done with season 2 so please do keep them spoiler-free of anything happening after that. Uhm yeah, go crazy I guess
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patrickispinky · 5 months
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Stfu I'm reading fanfics about little subby bitch boys
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milla984 · 10 months
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It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid
Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween
Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)
Word Count: 5.4k
This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved
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“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”
You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”
She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 
“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”
You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.
“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 
Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”
“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.
The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.
“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”
Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.
“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”
This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.
“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 
“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”
“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”
Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.
“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”
You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”
Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 
You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 
Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.
Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.
“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.
You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.
“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.
A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 
His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”
“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.
Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.
“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”
“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”
The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.
“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”
He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.
You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”
Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 
He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.
“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”
“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”
“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.
His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”
“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 
“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”
“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”
He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”
“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”
Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”
“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 
Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.
Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 
Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 
You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.
You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.
Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 
He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.
He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.
You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”
“Y– yes…” he muttered.
His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 
For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.
You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 
You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—
“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”
You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”
The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 
“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.
You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”
Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 
You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.
You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.
You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.
When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.
“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.
“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”
You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”
“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.
You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.
You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.
He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 
Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.
You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.
The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.
“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”
Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”
“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.
You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”
He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 
You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 
You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?
Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 
You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.
“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.
He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”
His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.
“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.
Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 
“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”
Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.
You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”
“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”
In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.
“Spencer…”
“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 
“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”
Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”
He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.
If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”
“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”
You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”
The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.
You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”
“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.
He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 
You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”
He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.
“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.
You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.
He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”
“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 
“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 
His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”
You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.
“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.
You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.
You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”
Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.
He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.
“How do I feel? Spence...?”
Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  
“You like it?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 
All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 
Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.
He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.
“Spence, I need more…” 
He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.
When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”
He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”
“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.
He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.
You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 
He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 
Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.
“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 
He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 
“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”
He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”
“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”
“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”
“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”
“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”
He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”
This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.
“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”
“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."
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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 months
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Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]
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Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)
Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork. 
Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Fluff/angst/smut 
Word Count: 9.9K 
A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️
Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room,  mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know. 
List with all stories 
_y/n_ = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer) 
_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height). 
_s/l_ = short or long 
_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)
_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)
_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food
The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.” 
Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.” 
Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_  for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.
There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful,  poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.
Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie. 
It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road. 
Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,”  a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.” 
The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard. 
When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.
_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk. 
_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”
They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”
_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing,  he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it. 
Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet. 
He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.
Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team. 
The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them. 
The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security.  _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.
_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time. 
When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.
Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate. 
_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.
_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_  took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens. 
Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.
Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way. 
Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.
She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.
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reidlita · 4 months
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professor spencer x the cute writer who’s always at the coffee shop nearby
he goes to get coffee every morning before his first class (all early ones bc he’s an early riser lol!!) at the local coffee shop mantained mostly by the colleges students. but, the cafe isn’t specifically restricted to the students, it’s only a popular place for them to be.
then he sees !!!!you!!!! tip tapping away on your computer, with a heavy notebook riddled with tons of annotations and bookmarks. he thinks that you’re the cutest and prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
and naturally, he finds out you’re a crime writer. nearly like you’re made to be. ex-fbi agent and someone who writes about crimes inspired by ones he might’ve solved?!?! he’s fascinated. he starts staying longer in the cafe, having the time to stay! then he notices that you— as well— share his sneaky and careful glances at him. he’s a profiler, after all, fbi agent or not. then, he finds out your name and naturally he has to read all of your books, right? right. and you immediately recongize his name from cases he’s been apart of. and they both geek out, because you’re an amazing right and he’s a super duper cool fbi agent?!?!?
obviously, his student notice his change in demeanour; they’re training to be profilers! then when you’re in a proper relationship you finally pop up during his lunch break— or one of his students spot you and him at the infamous cafe!!
so cute im dead
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