#Emily is away-ish

[writermuses]

@marimelwrites

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 4

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : 2.3k word count : your experience with the unsub warning : canon-typical violence (it gets a bit gory, torture-ish, implied sexual violence), swear words > read at your own risk, you are responsible for the media you consume A/N : thank you all for the support and love on this omggg <333 Emily's a tiny bit of a bitch in this one, whoopsie. y/n cries the whole time, I figured that was what I would do. would you guys like a part 5, maybe Spencer taking care of y/n after such a traumatic experience? some comfort after hurt?

part 1, part 2, part 3

The first thing you noticed when you came to your senses was the throbbing in the back of your head. Your first reflex was to bring your hand up to where you were sure to find blood, but you couldn’t move either of your arms. Opening your eyes wearily, you noticed that your wrists were restrained, binding you to an old wooden chair.  “What the-“ Your heart rate picked up as the memory of being hit over the head came back to you. Frantically looking around, your breathing started getting short and ragged when you realised your surrounding were wholly unfamiliar to you. You jerked your wrists to the sides, hoping that maybe the tight ropes would untie themselves. 

“Don’t tire yourself out,” an icy voice drawled from a dark corner. You could barely hear over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. You cursed yourself when he stepped out of the shadows, greasy locks pushed behind his ears. You should have told Spencer. You should have known.

His face was barely visible in the dim light. The smell of dust and mold which clung to the room suited him well. His gaze on you made you feel dirty and you hated it. You examined the enclosed space you were in and realised you were in an abandoned art room on campus. You'd discovered it once with your friends by accident, years ago. Art supplies, canvases and desks were strewn about in a careless manner. You tried not to think too much about the blood dotting the floor in multiple places.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked, doing your best to remain calm. He was clearly unstable and you didn't want to trigger him if you could help it. “Don't worry about that, just know you’re not getting out of here any time soon, honey.” He smiled, a frightening grimace, and licked his lips. Nausea clouded your senses for a second. Tears gathered on your waterline. “Oh yes, I will.” Your voice shook as you spoke and you hated how weak you sounded. His brows raised and he let slip a little, mocking laugh. It made your skin crawl. A tear slipped down your cheek and, humiliatingly, you couldn't wipe it away. “And why do you think that?” he asked, feigning interest. You scowled at him. “The FBI is going to find you, you sick fuck. If they couldn't before this, they definitely will now." 

Your head whipped to the side as he slapped you across the face. He bent down, placing his face mere centimetres from yours. Another tear fell from your eye as you felt your cheek sting and then get uncomfortably warm. “You stupid bitch,” he snarled. “You better watch your tone. You actually think they’ll find you? That's cute." You swallowed, opting to stay silent.

Spencer knew something had happened as soon as Hotch stepped into the room. Over the years, he'd learned how his boss functioned and how to separate all the micro-expressions he used before assembling them back together and interpreting them. Today, he could tell something was seriously wrong.

He hadn't even thought of you at first. In his mind, you were safe. The unsub had been arrested and proof was being searched for. The guy fit the profile and the profile never lied. So why did Hotch ask him to sit down?

"W- what?" "I think you may want to sit down for this." Spencer was getting agitated, he didn't like being kept out of the information loop. "Hotch, just tell us what's going on," pressed Morgan, brows drawn together. "You know how we asked all the professors to contact us immediately if anyone fitting the victimology didn't show up for class?" "Yeah," Emily nodded, urging Hotch on. "We got a call." The Unit Chief's eyes fell on Spencer and the latter knew what he was going to say before the words were uttered. "Spencer, Y/N's professor said she didn't show up to class this morning."

"O-okay, wait, that doesn't mean anything, we arrested a guy, she could just not be feeling well," Emily spoke hastily, concerned about the look on Spencer's face. "No, we must have the wrong-" Spencer was interrupted by Morgan: "Wait a second, the profile says-" "I don't care what the profile says, Morgan! Y/N's first class today is Germanic Ethos and Christian Faith in Medieval Literature, that's her favourite class, she's never missed it in the entire semester! And she was feeling well this morning, we had breakfast together and she would have told me if not! Clearly, we have the wrong guy!"

Silence reigned for a short moment after Spence's outburst. The entire team was left speechless by his behaviour, which was entirely unprecedented. Spencer ran a hand through his hair, letting out a small sigh. "I- Can you try calling her at least? Before we jump to any conclusions." Emily crossed her arms over her chest. Spencer sent her a dark look before whipping out his phone and pressing on the first name in his contact list. He put it on speaker and let it ring.

"No, no, please," you sobbed, "no more! Please! No, stop!"

Your voice was raw from screaming. Judging by the three shallow cuts he left on your right shoulder, the unsub enjoyed seeing your blood pearl and run down your skin. He also revelled in watching you writhe and scream in pain. "What did I tell you? Shut the fu-" He raised his hand in the air and you flinched away by reflex only to find the blow never came. You held your breath.

"I'm breaking dishes up in here all night, uh uh! I ain't gon' stop until I see police and lights, uh uh! I'm a fight a man tonight, I'm a fight a man-"

Oh, the irony. You didn't know whether to bless or curse Rihanna. "What the fuck is this?!" he roared, swivelling sharply on his feet to press the blade of his bloody knife into your cheek. You whimpered quietly. You couldn't help but think of all the infections you would be vulnerable to because of his dirty and rusted weapon. How could someone have so little care for basic hygiene? "It's- It's my ringtone! It's just my ringtone!"

"A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an! A man, a man, a ma-a-a-an!"

"You little bitch," he hissed, quickly untying your hands and grabbing your throat. He lifted you up by the neck and slammed you into the nearest wall, yelling about what a deceiving, conniving whore you were. You cried out in pain, desperately pulling at his hand which was wound tight around your throat. "You think your little friends are going to come and get you?!" he mocked, smushing your cheeks with his other hand. "Tough luck, doll, you're all alone and you're going to-" "Wait!" you spluttered, "Wait!" Your vision had begun going blurry but your mind remained intact. "If- If I don't answer, they'll know something's wrong! And then they'll send everyone out looking for me, for you!"

His grip on your throat lessened and you coughed, forcing air back into your lungs. Your eyes burned with tears. "What does it matter to you?" "Look- I- It doesn't matter, my ringtone is about to stop! And they'll come for sure!" Making a split-second decision, he stomped over to where he'd thrown your bag and sweater carelessly on the ground. You slid down onto the floor, wiping at your eyes. Hastily ruffling through your bag, he pulled your phone out after a second. You lamented all the flyaway papers you'd annotated with bright and lively colours now most likely stained with grime and blood. The unsub answered the call and roughly pressed the phone against your ear. You winced.

"O-Oh, Y/N! It's Spencer, are you alright?!" Big, fat tears rolled down your cheeks at the comforting sound of Spencer's voice. You wanted nothing more than to be near him, away from this living hell. If anyone could understand a message and find you, Spencer could. You were painfully aware of the little time you had left before the unsub got on with his routine and got rid of you. You cleared your throat, wanting to appear natural. "Hey! Yeah, I'm- I'm fine, I'm heading for my Wax Tablet Workshop, we are going to look at how writing on wax is art which has been abandoned by scholars, like universities." "O- Okay, sweets, I'll come get you after class okay? We can go for a coffee together!" "Sounds great, Spence!"

The unsub threw your phone onto the ground next to you and crushed it with his foot. You let your tears fall freely. Spencer had understood. He was coming.

"That was a hidden message, she doesn't have a Wax Tablet Workshop. It's not even a course the university offers." Spencer's brain was working even faster than usual. The BAU team had never seen him like this before. "Garcia, look for all abandoned locations on university campus. Maybe a classroom?" he urged.

The sound of a keyboard typing incredibly fast was heard on the speaker. "I've got one." Penelope's voice was urgent and contained no trace of its usual lightness. "There's an abandoned art studio on the East side of the campus. I'm sending you the address now."

"Let's go," ordered Hotch.

You'd never wear shorts again. Exhausted, beaten, bruised and tied to a chair, you didn't have the energy to do anything more than move your knee when he trailed his finger along it. You were starting to lose hope. There was no clock in sight, but you could guess your time would soon be up. Some part of you wanted to give up. You knew if Spencer were here, he'd tell you to keep fighting, to keep hoping. But you were tired, so, so tired.

You suspected you had a concussion from when he'd knocked out and when he'd slammed you into the wall. Your vision was blurry. Although, maybe that was due to the tears. They hadn't stopped coming since he'd first slapped you. But when his cold hand found your thigh and squeezed it roughly, the kindling fire in you regained strength. No. You would rather die than suffer whatever else he had planned for you. As he started moving his repulsive mouth towards you, you jerked your knee upwards, hard, right into his groin. He roared in pain and doubled over, stumbling backwards.

"Stay the fuck back!" you screamed hysterically. "Don't you dare fucking touch me, you psycho!" He met your eyes with a frenzied look you'd never seen before and pounced on you. The chair you were sitting on shattered with a loud noise and you screamed, finding yourself lying on top of splintery wood pieces. As he brought his arm upwards, knife facing downwards, towards you, you closed your eyes. You didn't want him to be the last thing you saw. You thought of all the good things in your life, your family, Spencer, Geoffrey, Spencer, your friends, Spencer,...

"Put it down!!!" bellowed a familiar voice. "Put it down now!" You opened your eyes. The door behind you had been broken down. FBI agents flooded the room, all aiming their guns at the man on top of you. His eyes darted frantically between Agent Morgan, whose voice you'd recognised, and two other agents you couldn't see.

"I want a deal!" the unsub cried out, "I want a deal!" "No deal," a deeper, more authoritative voice spoke. The unsub raised his arm again, preparing to strike. You closed your eyes.

BAM!

To this day, you didn't think the unsub expected to be shot. You figured he was expecting to be imprisoned. You didn't see the look on his face when he was shot, only felt the dead weight of his body falling on top of you.

Shrieking hysterically, you struggled frantically to move his corpse off you. Someone shoved him off you, promising you in a soothing voice that you were safe.

"Spencer." His name had never been spoke like that before. It was a haunting sob, a cry for help. He was at your side immediately, ridding you of the ropes around your wrists and pulling you away from the broken chair.

It was only when he called your name a third time that you finally found your grasp on reality again. Spencer pulled you into his arms, being careful not to squeeze you too tight. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. The comforting smell of him, of home, engulfed and grounded you. "It's okay," he cooed softly, lips brushing your ear, "you're safe now, he can't hurt you anymore." "Call an ambulance," you heard someone order in the distance. Sobbing hard into Spencer's shoulder, you pulled him impossibly closer to you. "I'm so sorry," you bawled, "I had seen him before on c- campus, like- like your boss said but I didn't want to tell you! I thought he was an- an exchange student!" Spencer shushed you, hands still shaking from taking the shot he took with no hesitation. This would be one of the kills he wouldn’t loose any sleep over. "You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart, you did everything right, I promise you."

"I- I didn't do what you always say," you hiccuped sadly, mouth moving against the material of his sweater vest, staining it with blood and tears. It was an article of clothing which would be ruined for both of you. Spencer would give it to charity a week later, you wouldn't miss it. "I didn't play into his fantasy, I kept telling him you were going to find me, and he was so angry!" "Baby." This was the first he'd called you that. It stopped you in your tracks. "Listen to me, you did everything right. You may not still be alive if you'd played into his fantasy. You were perfect, I promise. Just breathe, now, alright? You’re okay." "Are- are you sure?" "Yes, baby, I'm sure."

Taglist : (thank you for the support my loves <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina @venomsvl @user-3113s-blog @pumpkin-cake @redros3y @faunrasthewinterelf @puppykinsthepotato @bookishnerd1132 @bonza-bear @teeshamcbeesha @hades-disappointment-child @princesssparkle2024 @darlingcharling-blog @yasmin12312 @khxna @jamieeboulos @addyyodaddy @lunavelha @scottybitch @rivwritesiguess @lunagalaa @solacestyles @mgg55lovr @salty-sister @angrygalaxyduck @kayybay @arusio @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @perfectmilkshakeruins @pleasantwitchgarden @slutforwordsfr @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @bippityboppityboob1tch @navs-bhat @amethyst0532 @theamuz @gretaandthatsit @digitalhearts

[pathologicalreid]

in an arrow heart | s.r.

in which Spencer finds himself distracted by you during an otherwise routine outing to O'Keefe's

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: fingering, public-ish intimacy, they're in a locked bathroom, in a bar but doesn't mention alcohol, praise kink, softdom!spencer, oral fixation, teasing, lowkey pwp word count: 1.7k a/n: short and simple and just what the doctor ordered. i'm prescribing a spencer reid fingering fic.

The small circles that Spencer’s thumb rubs on your thigh are making your head go fuzzy. It’s the same sensation that you think you’d have if your head was being filled with helium, your head feels light and airy. His hand is splayed out on your thigh while your body is tucked in the corner of the booth, a wall on your other side, there’s no one to see your torture.

Chewing on the inside of your lip, your boyfriend watches Morgan as he tells the story of how exactly he managed to strike out at the bar. Spencer isn’t even looking at you as his hand moves, periodically squeezing your thigh.

You shift in the booth, lifting your thighs from the leather seat, ignoring the way your bare skin sticks as you try to pull the skirt of your dress down. “Are you okay?” Emily asks from across to booth, raising a defined brow at you curiously, “You look flushed.”

“Oh,” you respond, your face warming even more, “Do I?” You hum, giving Spencer a pointed look before answering Emily’s question, “I’m fine. It’s warm in here.”

Emily frowns in response, but JJ nods in agreement next to her, so she seemingly drops the line of questioning. The silence enables Spencer to lift your dress and place his palm back on your inner thigh, the warmth of his skin searing your own. This time, he spares a look down at you, and you nod softly in response.

If you wanted him to stop, all you had to do was let him know.

Spencer doesn’t move his hand any further up than your mid-thigh, the fabric of your dress half covering his hand as he continues to tease.

It’s not until you have to cover up a whimper with a cough that you try to excuse yourself to the bathroom, having Spencer get out of the booth seat so that you can walk to the back of the bar, turning the corner into the restroom.

You’re not sure what your plan is now, shaking out your hands with nervous energy as you pace around the dark blue-tiled bathroom. You yelp when the door swings open, covering your chest with your hand as if it could slow the pounding of your heart as Spencer sneaks into the bathroom.

He locks the door behind him before cupping your chin with his hands and bringing your lips to his, the kisses are almost heart-wrenchingly soft until they ease into the world of desperation.

It appears as though a week and a half away from you was more than Spencer could handle, the way he gently pushes you toward the wall makes it that much more obvious as you sling your arms around his shoulders and kiss him back. Interrupted only by you shrieking when one of you sets off the automatic hand dryer.

Your surprise morphs into laughter when you realize what the noise is, giggling up at Spencer, you ruffle his hair affectionately, “Hi.”

“Hey,” he says, dropping another kiss to your lips.

Letting your hands drop to your sides, you hum into the kiss, “What did the team think about you following me into the bathroom?”

Spencer shrugs in response, pressing soft kisses along your jawline, “Emily’s convinced you were going in here to throw up, she’s the one who insisted I go.”

You gasp slightly when his hand moves up to your breast, “Do I look like I’m going to throw up?”

“You look beautiful,” Spencer says, skimming his palms down the soft cotton of your sundress, lifting the fabric, and letting it flutter back down to your thigh. “I missed you,” he murmurs, resting his hand on the crook of your shoulder and kissing you, soft, open-mouthed kisses that function solely to leave you wanting more as his other hand ghosts over your body.

You sigh contently against his mouth, a gentle moan escaping your lips when he slips his tongue into your mouth, swiping it along your lower lip. “I missed you,” you repeat in kind, “Ten days is too long.”

It was a non-complaint, really, something you’d bemoan over while his mouth was pressed against yours, but nothing you’d ever hold against him. Besides, time apart just made the reunion that much better.

“Spence,” you whisper, knowing he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to cue him into what you want. “Will you touch me?”

He smiles against your lips, nodding softly as his hand lifts the skirt of your dress, his fingers tentatively hovering over your panties. “What made you so needy?”

You roll your eyes, peering up at him through your mascara-covered eyelashes, “Asshole,” you breathe, your chest deflating when he cups your cloth-covered core.

“Ah,” he says, “Strong words from someone who wants something from me,” he says, his eyes flashing deviously at you, gold shimmering under the warm light of the bar bathroom.

He increases the pressure of his hand and you moan in response, but you try to cover it up with speaking up, “I have fingers of my own,” you retort.

Pulling his hand back, you try not to pout at the loss while he smirks at you, “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Unfortunately, he was right, but you could use that to your advantage, raising your eyebrows, you hum curiously, “Why don’t you show me then?”

If there was one thing Spencer could never turn down, it’s a challenge, so it doesn’t come as a surprise when his hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties and swipes a finger through your folds, his other hand coming up to push your shoulder to the wall so that your legs don’t have a chance to give out from under you. “I can tell you missed me,” he whispers gently, his tone almost a coo in your ear as you nod helplessly. “All this from just one touch of the thigh,” he continues, spreading your slick over your cunt with his fingers.

A soft whimper escapes your lips when Spencer’s index finger firmly presses to your clit, the gentle pressure bringing that airy feeling back to your head. One touch might’ve been an understatement, but you’re in no position to correct him. “Spence,” you sigh his name.

“I love it when you say my name like that,” he says, rewarding your speech by slipping a finger gently into your throbbing pussy. The digit slowly swirls around your wet hole before withdrawing and moving back in with a second finger.

The stretch of your cunt makes your breath hitch, your head dropping to Spencer’s shoulder so you can use the fabric of his dress shirt to muffle your moans. The tile in the bathroom only bounces the strained noises from you and the wet squelching caused by Spencer’s fingers fucking into you.

As his middle and ring finger continue thrusting, Spencer cranes his neck so that he can press gentle kisses to the side of your neck. He nudges your head up so that he can use his spare hand to pull down the front of your dress, flipping over the cups of your bra so that he can massage your breast.

Your head spins while you feel him everywhere, “Oh, shit,” you gasp when he pushes his thumb against your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly buzzing with a pressure that you desperately needed to release.

Spencer hums, “My pretty girl,” the vibrations of his lips against your skin made your walls clench around his fingers. He was gently sucking at your chest, leaving little hickeys across the otherwise unmarred skin.

His thumb swipes over your clit, the movements perfectly timed with the thrusts of his hand.

“So good,” he praises you softly, “Letting me play with you in the bathroom, baby. You’re so fucking pretty when you need me,” he says, unrelenting in his ministrations.

A low whine comes from your throat, and you nod, “Ah, Spence,” you whimper, tilting your head back as you gasp for air, the dizzy feeling in your head coming crashing down as you cum. His free hand covers your mouth, muffling your moans so that you don’t alert any passersby to what is happening in the bathroom.

Your legs shake beneath you as Spencer holds you up, his hand slowly withdrawing from your panties, and you respond exactly how he wants you to when he holds his fingers in front of your mouth, enveloping his third and fourth finger within your lips and gently sucking your own slick from his digits. He gingerly presses a kiss to your forehead before taking his hand back.

He crouches down to the floor, gently tugging at your underwear and sliding them down your legs, you step out of them, your face hot as you watch him fold the damp fabric and slip them in his back pocket.

Softly, he cups both of your cheeks with his hands, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the high points, “Are you alright?”

Taking your lip between your teeth, you nod a little dazedly, “I’m not feeling well,” you murmur, a sly smile growing on your face, “I think it’s time for us to head home.”

He washes his hands, muttering something about the efficiency of hand dryers before he opens the door to the bathroom, gesturing for you to walk out in front of him. His hand on your back guides you to the table.

“Hey,” JJ frowns, “Are you feeling alright? You look a little green,” she observes, watching Spencer as he gathers your things.

Shaking your head, you shrug, “Might’ve been something I ate, we’re gonna call it a night,” you explain to the rest of the group, not even evoking a suspicious look from them.

Emily nods in what she probably thinks is absolute understanding, “Let us know how you’re feeling in the morning. Garcia was talking about going to a farmers market.”

You glance over at Spencer, wondering if he already has plans for you tonight, but you nod anyway. Waving goodbye to everyone before your boyfriend nearly drags you out of the bar, ready to get home.

[captain-huggy-bear]

To Fight a Ten Year Old

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: In which Quinn is prepared to time travel to whoop some ten year old butt because you tell him a story from your childhood and he takes it personally.

Notes: Alas, I did in fact experience this as a child, but I can laugh about it now :) Also writing soccer instead of football actually hurt me.

Very silly + short idea to be honest but hope it brings a smile to some faces!

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a stupid little back and forth the two of you have going as you get ready for bed, silly little questions like 'tell me about your first broken bone' and 'why is your favourite animal your favourite?'. It's something Quinn and you have been doing since you first started dating. It started as a way to get to know each other better and ended up a habit, a ritual of sorts.

Each year the questions get harder to think of as your lives become more intertwined, most of your stories featuring the other, but it still raises interesting moments from your childhoods and silly little stories that explain a lot about you or him. Things you probably wouldn't find out about each other unless you asked these random questions or a family member brought it up at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Today is no different. You're going through your night routine, taking off your make up and moisturising your skin, while Quinn brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, door open so you can talk.

"Okay..." He's thinking hard, even as he talks around his toothbrush leaning his head out of the bathroom to watch you as you wipe away your eyeliner, "How about first heartbreak?" His voice is muffled around the toothbrush and almost sounds like he's underwater, despite this he never seems to want to wait until he's done.

"Like first heartbreak? Or first proper heartbreak?" You're running a cloth over the rest of your face as you ask, wiping away concealer and blush, an array of colours smearing the fabric. Your skin being revealed bit by bit.

"What's the difference?" He briefly disappears back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and put his toothbrush away, but you know he's still listening as you explain.

"Well, first heartbreak is that time as a little kid that you thought you were in love and got hurt by it but it wasn't serious. You were probably over it by the next week, and first proper heartbreak is when you're older and it actually is heartbreak and you can't get over it for at least 3 months."

He hums as he comes back to lean against the doorframe, shoulders looking delicious without a shirt on, "First heartbreak, probably less depressing for a Monday night."

You take a moment, reaching for your moisturiser as you think back. There are many moments you could think of where you thought you were in love as a litte kid and had your heart broken as a result, but one stands out the most.

"Okay, um...When I was 10 years old I really liked like this boy in class called Cameron but Cameron really liked Emily, a girl 2 years older than us." You can still remember it now, the way he used to sit with her whenever he had the chance, how she clearly did not want a kid 2 years younger than her hanging around, how lovesick he was...how lovesick you were.

"Okay, so Cameron likes a cougar?" You glare over at him as you rub moisturiser into your skin, disapproving as he grins at you, straight teeth peeking out from behind his lips.

"2 years apart at the age of 10 and 12 does not make someone a cougar, Quinn!"

"I don't know, baby, seems pretty cougar-ish to me." You roll your eyes at him as he strolls closer to you, taking your comb in hand and tilting your head forward gently. He's careful as he starts to detangle your hair, careful not to pull too harshly on your scalp, much kinder than your mother used to be when you were a child. Quinn's always careful not to hurt you, apologetic if a tangle pulls too roughly.

"You're ridiculous. Anyway, where was I?" You reach for the detangler handing it back to him as he works, closing your eyes gently.

"You liked a spotty kid called Cameron." There's a hint of dislike riding his voice, even as his fingers are careful as they pull strands of your hair apart, teasing out knots.

Your eyes flash open and meet his in the vanity mirror, lips pursed at the way he insults a ten year old he's never met, "I liked a tall, cute kid called Cameron who was into soccer."

"Yeah, like I said, spotty." The dislike turns to a jealous sort of mumble, matched only by the sour look on his face that has you huffing out a laugh.

"Are you jealous of a ten year old?"

"He's not ten anymore..."

"Do I need to remind you this is a story of heartbreak?"

"Still, should've been me." His hands slide from your hair, comb having been put back on the side, and down to the base of your neck. Long fingers working at the tension there, you lean back into his fingers even as you call him out for his ridiculousness.

"We didn't even know each other! You're absurd, anyway, so I was certain Cameron was my future husband and I decided to be very brave one Valentine's day and get him a card and a gift." You lean a little to the right as Quinn hits a knot on the left side of your shoulder, you sway back into him.

"I'm proud of little you, that's gutsy." He can almost imagine it, little you bravely handing over a glittery red and pink monstrosity, little bows in your hair and chubby cheeks.

"I know, braver than I am now." You're not sure you'd have been brave enough to do something like that now, it had been Quinn after all who'd made the first move, Quinn who'd set the pace of your relationship at the start, "So I get him some chocolates, those stupid cheap heart shaped ones, and I make a stupid card covered in glitter and all sorts. I take my time and I write a heartfelt confession inside and then decided to give it to him in front of the entire class."

"No..." His voice drops, horror filling it as he looks at you through the mirror, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. You nod at him, confirming his worst fears, he knows how this is about to go down.

"Yeah, rookie move. I do it though, I hand it over and then he proceeds to not even read the card and um, rip it up in front of me and the entire class while telling me that he was going to marry Emily."

His fingers still in their massage. In fact, Quinn completely stills, his entire body rigid as he frowns at you through the mirror, there's a silence, long and heavy before he speaks.

"Where does Cameron live?"

"Quinn." You turn in your seat to look up at him, lips pursed together.

"I'm serious where does he live I'm going to go have some words with him," He crosses his arms and there's a brief moment where you're distracted by the strength and definition in his forearms before you really process that he's considering having words with a guy who broke your heart when you were ten.

"About his choices when he was ten?"

"Yeah! Who does that to someone, not only did he reject you, which is an insane decision by the way, he embarrasses my baby in front of the entire class!" Quinn reaches for your hands as he rants, pulling you to your feet, as his fingers twist and twine with yours. You'd think he's just joking but his tone is completely serious and it makes your heart warm, no matter how silly he's being. He's genuinely personally offended on your behalf about something that happened when you were a child, before you knew each other. It's sweet. Silly and absurd, but sweet.

"You can't fight a guy who broke my heart at the age of ten."

"Sure, I can or I can get Millsy to do it." He cracks a smile at that, even though he's serious about wanting words with this Cameron, he's also aware he's being absurd. He tugs you closer by the hands even as you glare up at him like a disappointed parent.

"You are not setting Miller on my childhood crush!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous! It was over a decade ago!" Even as you protest you're smiling, arms reaching up to rest over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. Fingers twisting the strands of brunet hair that rest there.

"And, he broke your heart and that's not acceptable, baby, i'm sorry, I have to defend your honour." Quinn palms rest on each of your hips, pulling you in as his fingers curl into your pajama bottoms.

"But, it was a good thing."

"How is that a good thing?"

"Because if he hadn't done that, I might have married him and been stuck in a loveless marriage and then never met you or met you but not been able to be with you." You look at him with a little smirk like you've beat him at his own game, like you've outplayed him in a game of chess.

"So you're saying that I actually should be thanking that spotty kid for breaking your heart?"

"Yes."

There's a moment of silence as he draws you ever closer, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, all soft lidded eyes and warmth. Pliant like a docile house cat.

"I'm not thanking him, I will, however, not get Millsy to fight him." It's mumbled so close to your lips that they're brushing his, an almost kiss that speaks volumes about where his mind is now.

"Good, because I'm not breaking you or Miller out of prison."

"You don't love me enough?" He doesn't even have the decency to pretend to be offended or care as his eyes are heavy, focus on your lips, not your eyes and certainly not on the ten year old he was threatening to set Miller on 5 seconds ago.

"Oh, I love you enough, but I do not have that skill set, honey."

"I don't know, think you could probably charm the officers into letting me out, baby." Quinn brushes the tip of his nose purposefully with yours and you know he's seconds from breaking and just kissing you, he has his tells, his little gestures that have consistently given him away.

"You suggesting I seduce the police now?" You pull back just enough to get his attention, to force a pout from him at the distance, his fingers scrambling at your back to pull you back in.

"...Nawwh, only me."

"You're an idiot." He pulls in you in with enough force that your chests bump with a soft smack, rubbing his cheek against yours just because he knows the stratch of his beard will get a giggle from you as you shy away from the sensation.

"I'm your idiot though."

"Mmm, my idiot." You mumble it against his lips as he finally breaks, self control being ditched in favour of the way you sigh against his mouth. He tastes like spearmint toothpaste, minty and sweet as his lips part beneath yours with a hum.

Maybe heartbreak at ten sucked, but you can't help but be thankful for it when you ended up winning the jackpot when you scored Quinn. So much better than spotty ten year old Cameron.

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Age gap - Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Your coworkers find out you love age gaps, but don't know about the relationship with your boss and the age gap within it. warnings: mentions of sex, brief smut ish, rs with your boss takes place in like s1 - hotch and haley are already divorced here. age gap (reader late 20s/hotch 40s) - also we're going to ignore how i keep posting these off schedule 0.7k+ wc

You hadn't meant to attract the entire team's attention. The 'never have I ever' question had been accusingly aimed at Emily, who's been in just about every type of controversial relationship, but if you were telling the truth, you'd been in more than one relationship with a significant age gap. You tried averting your gaze away from any of your teammates' stare, hoping they wouldn't call you out on drinking. "I'm sorry, how old are you again?" Penny's question was the first, followed by:

"How big was the age gap?"

"Since when are you into older men?" and

"It was just one relationship right?"

"I won't be taking questions." You stated, but Penelope's harsh glare had you pouting, leaning back against the booth. "Okay, well you know how old I am." Having joined the team a mere year ago, you had surprised everyone with your young skin and healthy locks, a smile filled with innocence that had made them guess you were still young. Luckily, being so young and attractive had allowed the team to make fast progress on certain cases. Dealing with difficult Sheriffs on non-local cases was made relatively easier when all you had to do was smile at them and laugh at whatever inappropriate joke they made about you to get your way. Despite the team telling you that you didn't have to deal with the perverted cops, you'd shrugged it off, saying it only made everyone's live easier.

It was always worth it, especially when you went back to the hotel at night and were whisked away into Hotch's room, where he pinned you down against the bed, thrusting into you jealously while grunting into your ear that you were his. His and no stupid cops'.

Aside from that, your humour and light-hearted nature made it easier for the team to live with their traumatic jobs on a day to day life. Especially when you managed to better the SSA's mood when he was feeling particularly grumpy. "Okay how big was the age gap?" Pressed Derek with raised eyebrows. You shrugged, sipping your cold drink. "Depends which man you're talking about." Emily let out a long whistle, commenting "Looks like I've been dethroned."

Giggling, you traced the rim of your glass, licking your lips softly. "It's just a preference." You added, eyes flicking up with a glint of mischief. "Rossi, Hotch, watch out." JJ joked, making your gaze shift to the two older men on the team. You tried not to let your stare linger on Hotch, who was sat directly facing you, otherwise a clear indicator of the liking you'd taken to your boss. "Biggest age gap was older than I am." You weren't sure if your drunken words made much sense, but from the audible gasp Spencer let out, you assumed it was. "So that's what... twenty-eight years?" You hummed, looking up at the ceiling while trying to do the maths. Giving up, you shrugged your shoulders, muttering "Something like that."

At your team's impressed whistles and little jokes, you risked another glance at Aaron, who was already looking at you, a soft smile on his face. Quickly turning away from him, you asked "Why, Emily how big was your age gap?" Emily's answer barely hit your ears because you were too busy feeling for Aaron's leg under the table. When you finally felt the soft cotton of his trousers against the skin of your foot, you ran it up his leg, catching his reddening face from the corner of your eye as you maintained eye contact with Emily instead, nodding along with her.

You were sure that if Aaron focused hard enough, he would still be able to feel your hands on his thighs from when you crouched under his desk bare hours ago, licking up the underside of his dick before latching onto the tip, sucking so eagerly that he had to cover his mouth to stifle his moans. "You're coming back home with me after drinks tonight." He had told you, a hand on your waist when you were finally finished, fixing up your lipstick. "Then I can properly reward you for everything." And you couldn't wait, thighs clenching in anticipation.

Now all you had to do was sit with your friends and laugh along to their jokes, trying not to drag your boss away into a bathroom stall so that he could finally take you home, bending you over his couch with his fingers shoved down your throat so that you wouldn't wake the neighbours.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter 1: The Manuscript

“He thought about how they said-

Since she was wise beyond her years everything had been above board. Now he wasn’t sure…”

series masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance?

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n’s (I’m sorry, I know I’m sick of it too.), fake marriage, possibly eventual smut in later parts we’ll see, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything! And as always, lemme know what you think!

wordcount: 1.3k

“The professor said the write what you know”

Spencer sat at his desk, anxiously scribbling away at a case file that he knew he simply wasn’t ready to hand over just yet. Not ready to let go or say goodbye. The office was deserted with the exception of Emily still fussing around in her office like she always was these days, just like Hotch before her, and Gideon before him. Back in the days when he was the youngest member of the team— god how things had changed.

“Looking backward might be the only way to move forward-”

six months prior:

"Come on, Em. She’s too young. I’d hardly say she has any real-life experience, and as helpful as she’s been, she certainly doesn’t have the field experience. And you want to drop her into an undercover operation at a university thousands of miles away? I just can’t logically wrap my mind around how you think this is our best option,” Spencer sighed, anxiously pacing the length of Emily’s office. Maybe it was the lights, but more likely it was the outlandish plans being laid before him that were bringing on the all-too-familiar throb of a migraine.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at Spencer with a tight-lipped, not-quite smile. “If you would let me finish, I wouldn’t be sending her alone. I’d be sending her with you. The unsub—or rather, unsubs—are targeting couples where the man,” she pointed to him, eyes widening as if to say keep up, “in the relationship comes from a position of power above the woman.” She wildly waved her hand toward the door, motioning to the woman sitting just outside the office.

“You’d be posing as a professor, which technically isn’t anything new for you. Though we might have to rub a little dirt on your good name.” She shrugged, glancing back down to shuffle through the pile of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for, holding it out for Spencer. “A handsome professor and his new, albeit young, ex-TA of a wife... forced to move after your relationship went public. Tragic.” She quirked a brow, offering Spencer a playful smirk. He did not return it, instead rolling his eyes as he thumbed through the file containing what could be his life for the next couple of months.

“Look, if we place you both at the university, she’ll fit in with the students, you’ll fit in with the professors, and now we have eyes and ears everywhere we need them. It’s logical enough, Spencer, and she’s already agreed as long as you’re up for it.”

There was a long pause as Spencer’s mind ran wild, figuring the probability of everything that could and likely would go wrong if he agreed to this plan.

“Look, we’ll even count this towards thirty days of teaching if that sweetens the deal at all?” Prentiss let out an exhausted sigh. Clearly, this was her only option, and everyone else, even the higher-ups, had approved this plan. It all now sat on Spencer’s shoulders. All he needed to do was agree.

“Fine…” he mumbled, his palm digging into his eye socket briefly trying to dull the growing pain behind his eyes. If Prentiss noticed, she chose not to address it. “Great! See, maybe it’ll be good for you? The faculty housing looks nice-ish..? And you’ve gotta admit, Y/N is sweet. I think she’ll learn a lot from you.”

Before Emily could finish her statement, Spencer turned on his heels, stalking out of the Unit Chief's office past the probie, her doe eyes fixed on him like he was a predator. Her gaze startled him in a way that sent him tripping over his own feet. He quickly righted himself, not daring to glance back at the younger agent on his way to the kitchenette.

An hour and several cups of coffee later, Spencer Reid found himself at the round table, sitting perfectly still as his breath caught in his lungs, watching the young woman in front of him sign her name on the dotted line. It’s official; Doctor Spencer Reid is officially a married man—sort of.

It felt so absurd, having to sign a marriage license. Though, logically, he understood. If they were using Spencer’s name and reputation as a backbone for this assignment, there should be a paper trail. At least when it came to this, he knew Penelope could fabricate anything and everything else they might need, but this silly piece of paper, declaring them man and wife—that was free and public information that needed to be real.

“So…” Y/N's voice was soft as it attempted to cut through the heavy weight of the awkward atmosphere. She fidgeted, tapping the pen against the table.

Spencer cleared his throat, eyes raking over her as the voice in his head told him once again that this was an awful idea, that she was too young, that she had no field experience, and there were far too many ways this could all go south. He tried his best to shake them off. “If you don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean this to be rude. I was a young agent—actually one of the youngest agents the BAU has ever had—” he caught himself in his ramble, his eyes searching her face for any kind of discomfort before blinking harder than necessary in an attempt to focus. “Sorry—uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ll be twenty-five in October… so twenty-four.”

"Right..." he chuckled, shaking his head, "that means...w-when you were born I already had two PhDs and was nearly finished with my third."

She groaned, a slight blush covering her cheeks as she fought the embarrassed grin threatening to take over her lips. “Doctor Reid—”

“Spencer.” He cut her off, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I—Uh… you can just call me Spencer. I don’t think couples typically use such formality when they’re addressing each other…”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, offering a little nod. “Spencer,” his name felt too personal on her lips, “I—” a rosy blush creeping up her neck as her mind went completely blank, every thought she’d ever had lost in the warm glow of his golden eyes.

As if on cue, Emily entered the room, a smirk on her lips as she observed the younger, seemingly awestruck agent gawking at her favorite genius. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought these might be useful?” She shrugged, placing a velvet box down beside Spencer before sliding the other across the table to fall into the younger woman’s lap. “Congratulations. I now pronounce you man and wife or whatever they say—beware, Penelope is likely going to throw rice or glitter or whatever she found in her desk at you as you walk out of this room. You’ve been warned. And I’d say kiss the bride, but frankly, I don’t want to see that. Wheels up in thirty.”

With that, she offered the new couple a nod before retreating back out of the conference room, back to her office, leaving them to open the velvet boxes. The rings were simple, nothing too flashy, like something you’d expect a professor to be able to afford without breaking the bank.

“Right…” Spencer said, sliding his own ring onto his finger before rising to his feet, his fingers awkwardly clenching and flexing at the unfamiliar weight. “Maybe if we don’t leave together, Garcia won’t ambush us.” He turned towards the door, hesitating a moment to glance back at the woman he could now call his wife. “Unless—unless you’re ready to go… we could, uh, head out together?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Y/N nodded quickly, jumping to her feet as she organized the pile of papers back into their folders and into her bag. She crossed the room, stopping beside Spencer. She glanced up at him, her own ring feeling heavy on her finger as she hesitantly reached out, offering him her hand. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between her waiting palm and her eyes before reluctantly accepting the offer.

“Shall we, Mrs. Reid?”

“Now and then he re-reads the manuscript. Of the entire torrid affair~”

Chapter II: Guilty as Sin

Thanks for being interested in my silly little concept 🩵

@flowerpott1978 @olives-and-sunshine

[nena-la-fresa]

Fright Night

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Smut | Oral | Fingering | P in V | Halloween Frat Party | Frat Boy Josh (ish) | Michael Myers Mask | 

Word Count: 1576

A/n: Pure shitty ass smut this time

Emily had suggested for you all to play a game, so in a corner of the party the group was sat. She never specified what it was until everyone was there. 

“Okay so we need one more before we start. We gotta make it even.” Emily finished counting heads. 

“What about Josh?” Chris started to look around for Josh but Sam stopped him. 

“I think he’s hosting. He might be passing out drinks or something.”

You had looked around, your eyes landed on someone standing by the door way. You felt like you were going crazy but this guy might have been following you all night. Almost everywhere you turned he was watching you. If he didn’t have on a Michal Myers costume you would have thought he was a creep, but weirdly, it was kinda hot. 

Emily had noticed you staring at the guy, “Hey you! Myers, how about you play with us.” 

He looked over at her before slowly making his way over. He sat down next to Chris, directly across from you. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching you. It sent chills up your spine. 

“So what are we playing Em?” Sam watches Emily place a bottle in the middle of the group. 

“Seven minutes in heaven. So who’s going first?” 

The group kept getting smaller, yeah Emily said it was seven minutes but that depended on the people. Most of them locked the doors if they were having sex, and those who didn’t just waited the seven minutes. 

“Okay Y/n, your turn.” 

You leaned forward to spin the bottle. It spinned about four times before landing on someone. Out of all the people to fall on, you looked up and saw the guy in the mask looking in your direction. 

“Good luck.” Sam smirked at you as she watched you stand up. 

You watched as he looked at you. He didn’t stand up, not till you stood in front of him. You felt his hand lightly graze your leg on the way up. You had wished it was Josh but the idea of potentially getting defiled by a stranger in a mask was kinda hot.

You grabbed his hand and led him to a room. After you walked in you heard the door lock behind you. You could feel your heart pounding, you wondered if he could hear it. Just as you were about to turn around you were pinned against the nearest wall. 

Chest against the wall as you felt his back pressed against you. You could hear his deep breathing as he grinded his cock against your ass. His fingers play with the tip of your dress, slowly lifting it up. 

He lifted your dress up completely, his hand cupped your breast while the other slipped through your panties. His warm fingers started to rub against your clit. Just as he tried to slip one in you turned around pushing him away lightly. His eyes followed your movement. 

He watched as you got down on your knees, he watched you unzip your coveralls. You pull out his cock, mesmerized by its length. You took him in your hand, pumping him slowly. You looked up at him, the moonlight shining just enough so you could see blue eyes looking back at you. 

You rubbed your thumb against his tip before kissing the it. You tried not to break eye contact, you wanted him to watch you. You wanted him to see you lick up from the base of his cock to the tip. You wrapped your lips against his tip, circling your tongue. You took a bit more of him in, once you started sucking you felt him twitch in your mouth. His hand held the back of your head helping guide you. You could feel him in the back of your throat. 

You pulled back to catch your breath. You get back up and slowly start backing him up against the bed. You position yourself to his side, propping yourself up with your left hand and using your right to grab his cock. You jerk him off slowly again before using your mouth to cover what your hand couldn't. 

You could feel his hand glide down your ass. He again moved your panties to the side, this time he let his fingers glide in. You moaned against his dick at the feeling of his middle fingers stroking your insides. He had such a way with his fingers. The fact he knew how to use his thumb against your clit would have made you cum but you needed more. Just as you pulled away from his dick he moved you swiftly. 

Your face pressed against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Before you can even catch a glance at him from behind he rams into you. You screamed at the feeling of his cock pounding into you. You had never felt so full. His pace was steady but by god's deep. He reached places you didn’t think you'd ever feel. 

“Fuck. Your dick feels so good.” You moaned against the mattress, you could feel tears start to form. 

You felt like that had sparked something in him, he pulled you up so that your back was now against his chest. He forced you to look in the mirror. His hand was now around your neck and the other was rubbing against your clit. You watched his cock slide in and out of your cunt with such ease. 

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m so close.” 

He felt your shaking, your cunt squeezing around him. He watched as your knees gave out. But he wasn’t done. He hadn’t had his fill yet. He flipped you over, head hanging down from the bed. He closed your legs, tilting you slightly, and lifted them against his chest. The feeling of his sliding back in was over stimulating but felt so good. His thrusts became erratic, sloppy, but the feeling of you pulsating around him was so arousing. He watched your breast bounce with every thrust, he watched tears pool at your eyes, he watched you cover your mouth to hold in a scream. 

But what really got him going was the fact that all you could do was watch him fuck you. You haven't taken your eyes off of the mirror the entire time. Out of all the things you had done, that was the one thing he thought was hot. You were begging to get fucked. You wanted to get fucked. You enjoyed it, you liked the idea of watching someone fuck you to the brink of tears. His last thrust was hard but so good. You felt his cum spill, you felt it begin to overflow out of you. 

You felt him slowly pull out of you. There was a brief pause before you felt the bed shift. There was now heat at your cunt, almost like an exhale. You felt his tongue lap at your cunt. You felt him lick at your entrance. You felt the way his tongue shoved itself in and out. You felt the way he stopped and kissed your cunt gently before pulling away. 

You get up from your position. His back against the bed, his chest heaving, but despite all that his dick was still hard. His dick still craved more. He looked up to see you crawling over him, your hand propping you up, the other grabbed his dick. He felt you rub it against your clit. 

“Nod if you want me to stop.” 

He laid still except for his hand making its way up your thigh to your hip. 

He watched the way you sank down on his cock. He looked up and watched the way you bit your lip before placing your hands on his chest. He watched as you leaned down, and just slightly lifted the mask. He closed his eyes when he felt your lips on his, the way you stopped bouncing to enjoy the kiss. He wrapped an arm around your waist, he propped his legs up and thrusted. 

He felt you moan against his lips. His tongue slipped into your mouth, saliva dripping down his chin as his tongue circled yours. He groaned at the feeling of you licking his lip before biting his lips. He loved the way it felt. He loved how you pulled at his lip before releasing and kissing him gently. 

You could feel the way he began to twitch inside of you. You knew he was close. You grind your hips against him, feeling his twitch coming to an edge. You quickly got off of him. Taking his dick in your mouth, you sucked at his tip. Pulled him out of your mouth you lifted his dick and licked at the base back to the tip. You don’t know what compelled you to look up. But you did. 

You saw Josh watching you. Watching the way his lips parted at the sight of you putting his dick back in your mouth. Josh watched you hold eye contact as you bobbed your head up and down his cock. He watched you take all his length in. He watched the way you took him cum with such ease. The way you never looked away from him as you swallowed. 

“Fuck you’re so hot.” 

It was a never ending cycle. You could feel your cunt begging for more. 

[jflemings]

emily fox + 13) finding a stranger to kiss as the ball drops

— kissing strangers

emily fox x reader

ficlet

from the new years prompts

you tuck your nose further into your scarf to fight the cold pinching at your nose, the navy blue garment providing some warmth to your cold-bitten face.

beside you, your best childhood friend grips your fingers tighter. she had decided to accompany you to new york for the new year after you and your ex split, insisting that it wasn’t worth to waste a trip you paid for.

she never liked your ex girlfriend. said she was too high maintenance, that she looked down her nose at everyone with a kind enough smile to get away with it. always told you that she had wandering eyes, even if you were too blind to see it.

and well. yeah. sometimes you hated when she was right. had since you were kids.

her mother joked that she could sniff out a bitch like a dog sniffs out a bomb.

now though, she knocks your shoulders together and smiles big. her eyes crinkling and twinkling under the lights of times square, her cheeks pink with winter “if you’re looking at me the whole time, how are you going to find a hot stranger to kiss?”

“you’re looking at me” you roll your eyes but avert your gaze to the crowd around you anyway. it’s a stupid bet, really, and one she’s made with you in an attempt to broaden your horizons when it comes to people you’re romantically interested in.

she’s managed to find a nice enough looking guy. tall-ish, brown eyes, brown hair that kinda swoops across his forehead. he’s got an accent — from what you can hear. she keeps a tight grip on your hand as she bats her eyelashes in a way that’s definitely going to get her what she wants.

your eyes fall to a wine red coat and a head of brown hair, sharp features and light eyes. the couple that she seems to be with is caught up in themselves, leaning in close to whisper in eachother’s ears and giggle quietly.

her smile doesn’t reach her eyes until she sees you. going from something small to something that makes her eyes squint slightly, making the apples of her cheeks pop. you nod back towards your friend and roll your eyes playfully ‘look at us. in the same boat’.

the stranger returns your gesture and steps closer towards you “couples, right?” she says lightheartedly.

“these two are strangers actually. she’s making good on a bet we made”

the countdown starts.

TEN

“a bet? what kind of bet”

NINE

“whoever kisses a stranger at midnight gets a hundred bucks and bragging rights” you shrug.

EIGHT

she tilts her head curiously “and what about you? got a stranger to kiss?”

SEVEN

“er. no, actually”

SIX

her fingers graze your arm “can’t have that, can we?”

FIVE

“no, i guess not” you say back, turning away from your friend, eyebrows raised and cheeks pink in a way that’s not from the cold.

FOUR

“you wanna be a hundred dollars richer?”

THREE

your mouth runs dry “you gonna help me?”

TWO

“if you want”

you want. so badly you want.

ONE

your hands grasp her face delicately and you briefly register how warm her skin is under your fingertips. you don’t waste time — not when this pretty stranger has given you an opportunity.

she slides her hand around the back of your neck, cupping the base of your skull as she draws you in. you can taste coconut on her lips as she kisses you — sweetly at first, before running her tongue along your bottom lip — the flavour intoxicating and addicting. you didn’t even really like coconut before this.

the confetti drops whilst you kiss her, the feeling of her lips on yours drowning out the noise and excitement of the crowd around you. your hands on her jaw pull her in further, allowing her to deepen the kiss even more. her hair tickles your cheeks where it’s fallen over her shoulders.

when you part, she smiles at you and swipes her thumb over your bottom lip, pulling slightly before resting her hand on your face.

“i’m emily” she says as the confetti falls around the two of you.

“y/n”

HAPPY NEW YEAR

[prettypinkporkchop]

Two Weeks

Seth x fem reader

Description: you're Kim's cousin. You come stay with her and Jared as she has a baby. Seth imprints but you live far away.

Warnings: language, sexual ish

A month ago, you decided to stay with your cousin Kim, who is now married to Jared Cameron. They have a baby on the way, and of course, this happens while you are alone with her, and Jared is off at work.

You're driving fast in your car but not too fast, trying to keep her and the baby safe. Kim is squeezing your free hand and breathing hard, screaming at random times.

"You're doing so good, Kim." You say softly. You're dealing with the pain in your fingers.

"Damn it! Call Rachel!" She screams, taking her phone out and putting it in your lap.

"Love, I can't look away from-"

"Fine!" She cries out and calls Rachel.

You've never met any of her friends, but you've heard of them from the stories she has told you. Her and Jared are good people, so if they like them, you know you will.

"Rachel, please, I'm in the car on the way to the hospital. Get Paul. My cousin is driving." She yells.

---

You sit outside the door on a chair to wait for whoever is about to show. You can hear Kim screaming. Two women and men run up to you. They catch your attention.

"I just got a hold of Jared." One guy says.

"Is she in there?" A woman with scars on her face asks.

On que, Kim screams in pain.

"Does that answer your question?" You cringe at her screams, feeling awful for her. "She said she only wants Jared in there." You say.

"I'm here!" A panicked Jared runs in.

You notice three other guys with him and a girl. A nurse comes over.

"Sorry guys, but there's too many of you right here. Can some of you sit in the main room?" She says.

You look around and catch eyes with one of the guys. He pauses and stares at you. You stare back because you're surprised by how beautiful a man could be.

One of the guys leans over and whispers in his ear. He nods and walks into the waiting room. A few others follow him. Jared talks to a doctor and goes into the room. A doctor tells you that she's almost ready to push. You sit outside the door with the couple you learn to be Emily and Sam.

-----

You got to see the baby. So far, she just looks like a goblin but with Kim's nose. But they're staying the night, so everyone is leaving. You ended up meeting everyone else including Seth. Yup, the one you locked eyes on. But his sister, Leah, keeps watching you like a hawk as if you're already dating him, but you literally don't even know them.

You walk to the car, fumbling with your keys. It's dark, so you pull out your phone and shine the light on your keys to unlock the car.

"Hey," you turn and see Seth. "It was nice meeting you. You should come to the beach with us when we go." He smiles.

You smile and softly laugh. "Yeah, I can. But I won't be here much longer. I have to go home in like two weeks."

His face loses the happy smile. "Oh. Where do you live?" He asks.

"(Your state)."

He looks down and then begins to smile again. "Two weeks is all I need."

"What does that mean?" You awkwardly laugh. No, for real. He's cute, so you'll have to let the weirdness slide.

"It means that these next two weeks, you'll have a good time."

----

(DAY 2)!!!! DAY 1 WAS JUST TALKING AT A COFFEE SHOP

"So, the boy is back!" You cross your arms and lean on the doorframe. Behind you inside the house is Kim and Jared. They're loving on the baby and taking care of her.

Seth smirks and then grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the doorway.

You close the door behind you and look at the tall man.

"I told you, two weeks is all I need." He smiles showing his perfect teeth.

"Yesterday was more like interviews." You walk down the steps toward his truck.

He follows behind you. "Now that we know a lot about each other, I was thinking we go on an adventure."

You get inside his truck, and he gets in the drivers seat. He starts the truck, and you watch him. The way his arms look. His cheeks, his hair. Shut up, y/n.

"Do you enjoy car rides?" He asks.

"Yes." You smile at him.

"I want to hear your music."

You guys ended up staying on the road for two hours, screaming lyrics. You've learned that the guy can lowkey sing well. He also has the same music taste as you. You guys have been having a really fun evening, and you're already so addicted to his company.

He turns off the music and looks at you. "Want to park somewhere and chill? I think we've almost hit every good scenic road." He chuckles.

"Sure!"

He ends up pulling into a trail in the trees. He gets out of the car and walks around to open your door.

"What are we doing?" You slowly get out of your seat.

"Trust me! You'll like it." He softly nudges you with his shoulder.

You only trust him because of Kim. Plus, he's hot, so...

Midway through walking, your shoe starts to hurt the back of your feet. "Oh, shit." You stop and lean against a tree. Your shoe is broken.

"What is it?" He asks, concerned.

"My shoe is hurting me." You giggle and take off your shoe, showing your sock. Your sock is SpongeBob.

Seth can't help but burst into laughter.

"Hey! Leave SpongeBob alone." You roll your eyes.

"It's cute." He says and looks over you.

You look at him and then look down, leaving out a breathy laugh. "Thanks." You take off the other shoe.

"Here." He steps closer and then turns around, slightly bending. "Jump."

"Uh, no, no, no. I think I'm a bit too heavy for you to walk with." You laugh.

"Jump." He repeats.

You hesitate, but put your hands on his shoulders and jump. He lifts up, hooking his arms under your knees. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you realize he's holding you effortlessly. Yeah, he do be built.

You lay your head on his shoulder and look over the side of his face. The sun that's lowering shines through the trees which makes his brown eyes golden.

"You're beautiful." You whisper to him.

----

Every day has been full of Seth. You've completely fallen for him. You have two days now. Two days until you go back home.

Seth lives on his own in a small camper. He has kept it all fancy and cute. You've decided to go see him tonight, surprise him. Even though you guys spent all of today together, it's night and you dont want to be away from him. You're thinking about just kissing him, but at the same time, you don't want to because you'll just have to leave after. You can't do long distance. You're honestly depressed that you're leaving behind Forks.

You knock on the camper door, and Seth answers the door. He smiles when he sees you. As usual, he's shirtless. His hair is stringy showing that he has gotten out of the shower.

"Couldn't get enough of me, huh?" He giggles.

You grab the back of his neck and pull him closer. His breath catches, and he looks down at you. His hands rest on your sides.

"I want to kiss you so bad." You whisper.

"There's a lot you need to know before we do that." You whispers.

"What do you mean?" You ask. You two remain in this position.

"If I tell you everything, will you stay here?"

"Where will I stay? I doubt Kim would-",

"Trust me. She would. She knows." He backs up and looks at you.

You are confused as hell. Curious and nervous, too. "I'd have to go back home and pack everything." You reply.

He smiles widely. "Does this mean you'll stay?"

"I'll ask Kim." You smirk and step forward.

His hands grab your hands and he smiles down at you. "I hope I don't scare you off."

"You couldn't." You look into his eyes.

"Let's go inside."

----- (he tells you everything)----

Your fingers touch his tattoo. He watches your fingers trace the lines. You're sitting in front of him on his bed. The bed feels like a cloud underneath you. He has his LED lights on. You can still see every perfect line in his face.

"Am I crazy for moving here to be with you?"

"Yes. But what's even crazier is shifting and imprinting." He chuckles.

"You're right." You giggle. You stop and look at his face.

His eyes roam around, eventually landing on your lips. You may or may not have gone a bit crazy. You quickly push him back and crawl on his lap, pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back and holds on to your waist. He leans up, holding onto your back and kissing you harder. His lips feel so good against yours. You part lips, playing with your tongues and kissing over and over, having a heated Makeout session. Your hands roam on his abs. His hands stay on your back, remaining respectful. You quickly notice and use one hand to guide his lower to your ass. He squeezes roughly before switching you two around and pinning you down. His lips attack your neck, leaving bites but no marks. You moan in his ear. He breathes out when you get loud letting you know that your moans are turning him on.

---- (you guys didn't go far. He was quick to stop.)

You both go into his kitchen area. He scratches his head and looks around. "Want something to eat?"

"I should head back to Kim's. It's late and I want to ask her before she goes to bed." You reply.

"Gotcha. When you leave to pack, let me come with." He steps forward and kisses your cheek.

----

Kim shushes you as you close the front door. She has on a robe and looks miserable, poor lady.

"Sorry." You whisper. "I have a question."

She smiles and mixes some milk in a bottle. "I think I already know. Do you know about the big secret?" She looks at you.

You nod your head in response.

She smirks. "Hmm. I do like having you here. Jared will be proud and happy for Seth." She closes the lid to the bottle. "What about your old house? Your old job? Are you for sure wanting to start over?"

"Are you saying this is a bad idea?" You ask.

"It's reckless and stupid if we were regular people. Thing is, we aren't. I'd do it for Jared." Her eyes shift to behind you and she giggles.

You quickly turn around and see Seth standing at the door.

"Like I told you, all I needed is two weeks." He tells Kim.

"Oh, you're right, you wolfie stud." She jokes.

"Cringe." You laugh.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Kafkaesque

Summary: On the flight back home, Spencer and Reader exchange books to read, and Spencer is surprised by your selection.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Funny, fluff-ish

Content warnings: Franz Kafka (i like him but whatever)

Word count: 1k

The team is on the jet heading back to Quantico after yet another successful case was solved. The tensions of a stressful arrest started to quell as only clusters of city light started to become their only view for the rest of the flight. Morgan has already passed out listening to music, taking up two seats for himself, while Hotch, Emily, Rossi, and J.J. stay occupied by playing poker. Their banter filled the cabin along with the sound of shuffling cards, and actual chips were exchanged instead of poker chips.

You and Spencer, on the other hand, decided this was the perfect time for reading. You had been discussing the idea of exchanging books to get each other’s opinion, since you two are the only consistent readers among your colleagues (and also because Spencer’s banned from playing poker for cheating (again)).

You only briefly got to start each other’s selection before landing, but now there was plenty of time to cross some of the short stories of Sherlock Holmes off your TBR. Considering you were reading in the same space, you expected this to be more of a challenge. Because Spencer is a fast reader. A notoriously fast reader. To the point where Hotch has prevented him from reading while questioning witnesses. The speed at which he combs through books knocks off their focus. You’ve seen it yourself, so much that it’s not as funny as it was when you started here.

Nevertheless, you explore the world of Sherlock Holmes. As you turned the pages, you marveled at the intricacies of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s storytelling. The deductive prowess of Holmes and the vivid depiction of Victorian London transport you to another time and place. Andrew Scott’s charismatic portrayal of Moriarty in the TV adaptation flickered through your mind, though you wisely kept that observation to yourself. Last time, Spencer gave a passionate lecture on the discrepancies between books and television adaptations, citing difference in attention spans, and you had no desire to open that can of worms again.

Amid the familiar hushed ambiance of the cabin, you felt a familiar sensation—the piercing gaze of someone fixated on you. It was a feeling you had grown accustomed to, whether it was the malevolent eyes of criminals from afar of the intense scrutiny across an interrogation table. You tore your attention away from the pages of your book to meet Spencer’s eyes. His expression was contemplative, yet he was less than a third through the book.

“Wanna trade already?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“No, no,” Spencer replied, his lips pursed as he continued to study you.

You raised a brow. “Any questions I could answer?”

“How did you come across him?” He held up your book, “The Complete Short Stories” by Franz Kafka.

“Oh,” you shrugged, “just those angsty high school years, you know?”

Spencer’s nose wrinkled at that. No, he, in fact, did not know what you meant. Because he wasn’t old enough to have angsty high school years. And if he did have any at all, they would have been during college—neither period of his life he cared to recall.

“You’ve seriously never picked up Franz Kafka?” You asked him. “You? Spencer Reid? The equivalent of a human encyclopedia?”

“Only some of his short stories were used for college lectures.”

“Okay.” You feigned a laugh. “So what’s the problem?”

“What was your childhood like, Y/N?”

Your face widened in shock before a sly smirk emerged. “Are you seriously profiling me because of my favorite author? That’s absurd!” The urge to playfully smack him surfaced, but the goodness of your heart made you resist (also because this isn’t your book you’re holding). “Kafka enthusiasts come in all forms, you know. Like everybody else.”

“He’s your favorite author?” Spencer chuckled, still very surprised.

You nodded. “And what about it?”

“You’re just so… happy all the time.”

You cocked your head to the side. A small laugh slipped out as you said, “Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Reid. Should I have brought ‘The Adventures of Strawberry Shortcake’ to help maintain your image of me?”

“No! I mean…” Your shared laughter briefly interrupted his train of thought. “It’s just not what I expected from you.”

“Hm.” You settled back in your seat, opening the book to where your thumb rested between the pages. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” You’re ready to get back to reading, but you still look at Spencer.

His eyes sparkled, and the curiosity of something becoming more complex than intended makes his brain run for miles. “Perhaps I don’t.”

As the jet continued its steady course back to Quantico, you and Spencer settled into cozy companionship, growing more familiar with each trip. The ambiance remained peaceful, with the faint hum of the engines serving as soothing background noise for your literary exploration.

You find yourself engrossed in the world of Sherlock Holmes once more, relishing in the intricate puzzles and razor-sharp deductions. Andrew Scott continued to dance in your mind from time to time, a testament to the power of well-crafted adaptations (excluding season four. You never told Spencer there was a fourth season).

You were also increasingly aware of Spencer’s presence beside you. Instead of the prickling sensation of having eyes on you, his knee brushed lightly against yours, sending tingles through your body, along with zero doubt it was accidental, considering this guy hesitates to shake hands. He still took the time to look at you after some moments of reading, as if he were deducing what certain Kafka works in that book could mean to you exactly. He flipped through the pages—actually reading—like he would find the answers.

You heard him swallow. “So, uh, why is he a roach in this one?”

“Because that’s how he feels.” You knocked your knee against him this time. “Just keep reading, Spencer. We’ll discuss it after.”

You watched him bite his lips closed as he tried to suppress a smile.

[sergeantkitty]

Y'all, my man Lucifer just likes himself some duckies.

Anyway, feel free to read through my rant of why I think he likes ducks so much. SPOILERS for S1 Ep8 toward the end.

(Click image for better quality.)

So in case you don't know, there's this famous(ish) Christian story called "The Devil and the Duck". I'm gonna try my best to summarize it here.

This boy gets a slingshot as a present and decides to be a little shit and impulsively uses it to shoot his grandma's pet duck. This kills the duck and the boy feels extreme guilt. His stupid bitchass sister reveals that she saw the whole thing and holds the boy's guilt over his head (remember this phrasing for later) and makes him do her chores and stuff for him, using what he did as blackmail and a guilt-trip.

The boy for a while keeps doing his sister's bidding until he cracks under the guilt and exhaustion from all the chores, and in a break down he apologizes to his grandma, admitting what he did to the duck. The grandma then reveals that she saw what happened from a nearby window, and although she was deeply hurt by what the boy did, she still forgave him immediately. She says that she'll always love the boy since he's her grandson and that seeing his immediate regret was enough for her. She was just waiting for him to admit it, apologize, and stop letting his sister manipulate him.

In the story the boy represents humanity/any person, the sister represents the devil, and the grandma represents God/Jesus. The boy commits a horrific sin and feels immense guilt over it and the sister/devil holds the sin over his head and tries to convince him to do her bidding since the sin was so great that there's no way that grandma/God could forgive him. The lesson of the story's pretty obvious from there: don't let the devil guilt you with your sins into giving up and turning against God since God sees all your sins and faults and still loves you and forgives you anyway, so long as you apologize and repent for your sin against him.

I think Lucifer as we see him in Hazbin Hotel is placing himself both as the devil (obviously) but also the boy in the story. He's clearly interpreted more as a sympathetic, guilt-ridden figure. He surrounds himself with memorabilia of his greatest regret: the downfall of man (hence the apples and snakes.) Now keep in mind that I've highlighted the phrasing of "holding over [one's] head", well that's because that's the specific phrasing used in the story. Now look at Lucifer's hat. It has the snake and apple. Lucifer is LITERALLY holding his greatest sin over his own head and has given up on his dreams and happiness in favor of doing the bidding of his own personal devil: his depression. He's let himself whither away in isolation and gave up on trying to be a proper king for the people he granted free will to since in his mind they're all wretched sinners abusing that gift. All he sees is the bad side of humanity.

I think to him the duck symbolizes the dreamer still inside him, that bit of hope left in him, that hope that even though he's the cause of evil in humanity he'll still one day be forgiven and maybe even be let back into heaven. We see heavenly figures like Sera and Emily feeling clear sympathy for him in S1 Ep6. They don't hate him, they just fear earning the same fate. Even going into S1 Ep8 we see him decide to stop letting his depression rule over him and help Charlie redeem sinners. He's working to, in some way, repent for his greatest sin because, thanks to Charlie, he's seeing the good in humanity again.

Do I have any way of knowing if this is even REMOTELY accurate? ...No... but I like the thought of this being the reason behind Lucifer's duck hyperfixation, and I haven't seen anyone talk about this or bring this possibility up. Anyways, thanks for reading my little rant :3

[novascharms]

no boys allowed! — rafe cameron

no boys allowed at the sorority house after 7 pm. of course, rafe sneaks into your window a couple of days a week.

content — fluff, smut, p in v  w.c — 2.7 masterlist

monday — 11:32 p.m.

being in a sorority was your favorite thing in the world. the sisterhood, the living arrangements, the benefits. it was everything you could wish for and more. you even loved your president and rush chair despite their sometimes strict-ish rules. it wasn't too bad; good grades, good behaviour, mandatory attendace at all chapter meetings, events, and rituals, dress a certain way, talk a certain way. blahblahblah. those were all things that had been ingrained in you long before you came to university but the no boys after seven o'clock rule? that one was a little tougher to swallow. a girl has needs.

you weren't sure how quiet you were being, you never could really focus when rafe had you like this, ass arched up, face roughly stuffed into your frilly off-white anthropologie pillow. you could vaguely hear the moans coming out of your drooling mouth but most, if not all of your focus was on rafe pounding his thick cock into your gummy walls, abusing your aching pussy, "quiet, baby..emily will rip me a new one if she hears us," rafe's voice barely broke through the sex haze you were in as you rutted into your sheets.

how could he ask you to be more quiet but fuck you even harder? "rafe..! mm, p-please.." you blubbered, tears in your eyes as his hands gripped your waist still and kept you from sinking into the bed from sheer lack of strength. he let out a low groan when you pushed back into him at every thrust, "that's it, that's my girl."

“oh god, oh god, rafey..!” you whimpered when rafe’s tip hit your cervix and slammed against it over and over driving you completely silly. he buried himself deep inside of you whilst holding your hips and relentlessly pounded into your sweet cunt. “doin’ so good, baby.” he grunted against your neck as your cunt sucked him in eagerly. “look at that pussy suckin’ me in..”

his hips drove against you, fucking into your hole and hitting that fuzzy spot that made you delirious every time. rafe had to shove your head into the pillow to muffle your whines that were only getting louder as he drilled into you.

just then, a quiet knock on your door. "hey, you okay in there?"

your eyes widened, panic taking over your body when you recognised the rush chair, aaliyah's voice. fuck, fuck, you were screwed. even more screwed considering rafe was still pounding your pussy relentlessly. "rafe.." you whispered with the hope that it would sound like a warning but it just sounded like the most pathetic, quiet whine.

"mm..mhm..y-yes!" you cried, your eyes fluttering from the pleasure and you arched your back even more, gripping your pillows for support.

"you sure, girl? you don't need a medic, right? because steffi was vomitting yesterday so we had a medic for that and i just don't want the board to think we're milking all their resources for—"

"yes!" you screamed out, the feeling of pure ectascy taking over your body and your vision went all white. you could hear rafe quietly groaning as he pumped his load into you only a second after you came.

"yes, you do need a medic?"

tuesday — 9:08 p.m.

it wasn't usually every day. the sneaking in. this week was just going to be a stressful one, for the both of you. you had a midterm in the morning, class from 8 to 6 on thursday and you had to squeeze a manicure inbetween one of those classes so you wouldn't even get to eat lunch with rafe (tragic), friday morning rafe was going away until saturday morning which you truly saw as a crime against you, saturday you had a mandatory sorority event that would take the whole day but atleast rafe was coming as your date and then sunday rafe had a frat thing where you could unfortunately not be his date because it was members only. so, basically, everyone hates you and the world is against you.

"rafe, i have to study..!" you gripped the edges of your desk and planted your feet to the ground as rafe tried to tug you away from your notes and laptop. "you've been studying all day, it's time for a break." he said firmly and his arms came around your waist, lifting you from your chair. you almost screamed but closed your mouth upon realising emily would come running and see rafe here two hours past curfew.

rafe threw you onto your bed in the least graceful way he could and you bounced into the pillows with a gasp. "it's clear you've never studied for a statistics exam. breaks don't exist in the land of statistics." you say and roll your eyes when he sits on your bed with this stupid smile on his face that made it impossible not to love him.

"i had statistics in my first year. pretty sure the prof had a thing for me." he laid his head down on princess peach's head. not her actual head. a plushie of her head which he was crushing with his even more massive head. "mm." you hummed and gave him a nasty once-over. he laughed so hard you had to smash the nearest pillow on his face with wide eyes. "rafe, quiet!" you hissed, with your body almost toppled over him with how quick you jumped to silence him.

he was still smiling when you removed the pillow 10 seconds later. "you enjoyed that." he said and he was absolutely right, you did enjoy that. "it felt very liberating to shut a white man up, yes." you smiled like you had just done something to be truly proud of. "well, that was my break—" you were halfway across the bed when rafe grabbed your ankle and tugged you right back where you were. luckily the sheets muffled your shriek. "you're going to break your brain, doll." he sat up and pulled you between his legs.

"i'm going to break your bones if i fail my exam tomorrow." the threat was empty, hollow, transparent even. on a bad day, you couldn't even open a jar of peanut butter and you knew the two-ish hours you still wanted to study probably wouldn't make much of a difference BUT what if? what if maybe? just maybe it did? then you'd blame rafe and you'd be forced to bring harm to this beautiful boy you loved so dearly. just because he wanted you to rest instead of working yourself to death.

"in that case, my bones are fine." he murmured pulling you against his chest, his warm hands slowly travelling up your blue loveshackfancy pyjamas. your head dropped onto his chest as his hand gently cupped your tits, the calluses on his palm brushung against your sensitive, hardened nipple. he kissed along your ear, the tip of his nose grazes your earlobe before quietly asking, "you just need some rest, don't you?" your hand rested lightly on his arm as he fondled your tit in his hand and you sighed with a subtle nod, body melting like putty in his hands.

his other hand travelled down to your pyjama shorts, his fingers teasing your clothed slit, pushing gently against that warmth yet making sure to not push all the way in just yet. your back arched, a whimper escaping your lips at the fleeting feeling. "rafe.." you whined, eyes fluttering, bracing your neck and he hummed leaving kisses along your exposed skin. "n-need you." you murmured, your hand still on his forearm, praying he'd just slip it down your shorts already.

"yeah? you need me? my sweet girl needs my fingers?" your eyes close and the fluttering that takes over your body makes you wonder if you didn't just cum at just his words. it wouldn't surprise you.

"help me out, sweetheart." he says and you were confused for a moment until your eyes opened to his fingers inches away from your lips. you didn't hesitate, eased his digits into your mouth in desperate need to just empty your brain, stop the overflow of thoughts and this was the perfect solution.

your tongue coated his fingers in spit and held onto his wrist to slowly push his fingers deeper down your throat. you whined around his fingers, pupils dilated, completely lost in the motion and rafe's hand comes up to wrap around your throat, pushing up just slightly so your head was tilted up giving him the perfect view of you greedily sucking his fingers. "shit, baby, that's perfect.." he sighs and you can feel him hardening against your ass, you have this burning desire to push back, to grind slowly and drive him insane but you feel too weak to do anything, focus on anything with his fingers inches deep in your mouth.

the moment ended entirely too soon but you had no time to utter out a whiny complain because his hand was down your shorts and fingers between your folds, grazing your slit and thumbing your clit. you gasped and arched away from him the moment his thumb made contact with your slit. "c'mere." he pulled you right back in, flesh against his chest. he made sure your legs were nicely spread apart before he started circling your clit, "rafe..rafe!" you moaned, head dropping on his shoulder as your hips bucked against his fingers.

he focused his attention on your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub that absolutely drove you. you writhe in his arms, his hand covering your mouth so you didn't alert anyone with the whines coming out of your mouth.

you were constantly trying to close your legs and then spread them wide again, unsure of what you really wanted. rafe made sure to keep them open. "oh, god, rafe, god!" you cried and a gasp escaped your lips when you felt his fingers push inside of you. your toes curled on the pink bedsheets, fist tightened around the princess peach plushie rafe was resting on earlier.

rafe kissed down your neck, sucking on your skin and the pleasure from both his lips and his fingers made it impossible for you to think straight at all, you whined, writhing against his fingers, broken moans coming from you. "f-fu.." you stammered and gripped rafe's wrist, "f-fu..dge." you cried, eyes rolling back and you vaguely heard rafe's quiet chuckle at your inability to curse even in these moments due to years of sorority drilling. "m' close.." you whined feeling his fingers thrust into the deepest parts of you, digits angling just perfectly whilst his fingers gave your clit all the attention. "gonna cum for me, princess?" he rasped and you moaned, nodding furiously and pushing your hips against his fingers, "please, p-please..!" you felt that overwhelming sensation, the stars in your vision, the arch of your back and then your pussy was creaming all over his fingers.

you went limp in his arms, exhaustion taking over completely as rafe slowly pulled his fingers out. he slowly hoisted you up, arms under your thighs and on your back. "where r we goin'.." you mumbled sleepily, "the bathroom for a shower, baby." he says and you were shaking your head knowing very well that there was no way you were going to stand on your two legs right now. "ah, so you'd rather sleep all sticky in a dirty bed?" he asked and you stiffened, immediately shaking your head.

shower it is.

 thursday — 7:09 p.m.

he was here again but today was seriously, totally justifiable. yesterday after your midterm, he had class and then he had to pack so you didn't see him at all. then today had been a marathon of misery: classes from 8 to 6, a meltdown in the middle of the day over your botched nail set—because you’d been too timid to correct your nail tech—and now you were stuck with these nails for weeks. you’d cried, teary-eyed and embarrassed, brushing off questions about your distress because admitting to crying over a nail set seemed absurd.

on top of that, the awful weather wrecked your hair just two days before an event and three days before wash day, leaving you utterly defeated. you’d called rafe in tears, your voice breaking for barely two minutes before he was on his way, determined to make his girl feel better.

now, you’ve claimed your rightful spot on rafe's lap, straddling him with your arms wrapped securely around his neck. it started innocently enough—soft kisses and tender words murmured into your ear—but quickly escalated. his hands settled on your hips, guiding them in a slow, languid figure-eight motion.

his lips moved against yours, soft and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world. it didn’t take long for him to coax your lips apart, drawing him closer. you focused on the sensations grounding you: the feel of his hair between your fingers, shorter at the back, and the way he groaned when you tugged. the fresh, clean scent of lemons and lavender lingered on his skin, a sign that he’d showered after the gym—he’d never ever come to your room without making sure he was clean.

when you finally pulled back for air, your breaths mingled, and his forehead rested against yours, his patience infinite as he waited for you to catch your breath. “you’re tired,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. and he was right. you were exhausted—up since 8 a.m., crying once already without the reprieve of a nap (criminal), and now it was 7 p.m. but you didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to let today end because tomorrow, rafe would be gone.

“m’not,” you whispered, stubbornly shaking your head. his eyes narrowed knowingly, and he began to trace slow, calming patterns along your spine. you peppered his lips with soft kisses, each one met with gentle reciprocation, but your resolve didn’t last long. your eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, your head dropped onto his chest, his warmth lulling you into much-needed rest.

sunday — 10:11 p.m.

apart from sex with rafe, wash day was probably the most intensive part of your whole week. it was not only hard on your arms but also very, very time-consuming. you enjoyed it—most of the time. it could feel therapeutic and you did love getting clean but then other times it was frustrating and tiring and you just wanted to give up and shave your head. you didn't though.

it was in the middle of rinsing your hair that rafe invited himself into the bathroom. you could see him through the foggy shower glass closing the toilet lid and sitting down. "you're taking too long."

you rolled your eyes and slid open the shower door, "i should just shave my head, right? i could totally pull off the britney look." your hand reached for your towel and you wrapped it around your body tightly before getting out of the shower and slipping into your fuzzy slippers. "or jada pinkett smith." you stared at yourself in the mirror trying to imagine yourself bald and rafe scoffed, "you'd have a mental breakdown within ten minutes of doing something like that."

you couldn't dispute that. "you would still love me, right? if i was bald like britney and jada?" you looked at rafe, brows raised and he hesitated for just a second, not even—a millisecond. you gasped at him and violently threw three rolls of toilet paper at his head. he held his hands out, "woah, no, no! i was just imaginging it, baby, fuck." he stood up, pulling you into his chest even though it was getting him all wet. "of course, i'd still love you."

you watched him through the mirror, arms crossed over your chest, completely unconvinced by his confession. naturally, he started leaving kisses along your shoulders and neck, making sure to not leave a single spot unkissed. "i'd choose you every time, over and over." he quietly says, those blue eyes boring into yours and you’re really not sure how it happened. it just..kind of did.

10:19 p.m.

"you're so goddamn tight, fuck," rafe grunted as he thrusted his cock inside of you, pounding into your tight cunt over and over. "p-please! h-harder.." your voice was high and breathless, head resting against the cool sink, holding onto the edges tightly. rafe could hardly believe how much you were clenching around him.

“rafe! rafey!” you whined, hoping your voice didn’t carry despite how loud you were being. your head rested against the damp sink, fingers curled around the sink as rafe pounded into your cunt, snapping his hips relentlessly. “my needy girl..”

“y-your girl..” you repeated with misty eyes as rafe’s thick cock slowly brought you closer and closer to that fuzzy place. “come on, doll. cum for me, sweetheart..” rafe fucked you until you creamed all over his cock, legs trembling and barely conscious.

masterlist

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desire Ch 8

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut, rougher sex (ish), minor breeding kink. ngl it almost feels like a bit of a filler chapter, but it reunites what bits i had combined previously to make full chapters. Also sometimes filler is needed, I needed something else in there to break things up and that's why i kept staring at the word doc having NO clue what i wanted to do. SO, hopefully it doesn't take two weeks til the next update. lol. thank you for reading, extra bonus love to everyone who comments, sends asks and reblogs! you're the best!

After a lavish breakfast of stuffed French toast, all the delicious sides you could ask for and the best tasting coffee you’d had in ages you figured you should take advantage of the fancy shower once more. You took your time, scrubbing your skin with exfoliant before washing with a rose scented body wash and combing through your hair with a leave in conditioner. Wrapping yourself in one of the fuzzy robes you added in some hair treatment, doing your best job of braiding your still damp locks to air dry while sipping on a second cup of coffee. Finally it was check out time so you collected your things and headed downstairs, the Sunday morning air was the perfect balance of crisp while warm, the breeze floating through the streets spreading the sense of summer on the way.

You weren’t totally surprised when you found a bouquet of flowers on your front step, a note from Emily in the florists font scrawled across the front. Scooping it up you took it inside, kicking off your shoes and dropping your purse to the kitchen island before unwrapping the flowers. Picking a vase from the cabinet you filled it with some water and placed the bouquet inside, placing them on the coffee table to display. You dug through your bag for your phone, finally finding it and opening the text chain with Emily.

‘The flowers are gorgeous, thank you.’

‘You’re such a good girl I figured you deserved a little treat.’

‘It’s much appreciated.’

‘Speaking of… your upcoming events, do you need anything for them?’

‘I’m picking up a couple of dresses from alterations this week, haven’t looked through my accessories though.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Thank you. Enjoy New York, eat a bagel or a slice of pizza for me.’

‘Oh now that’s just a guarantee’

You chuckled as you locked your phone, sliding it back onto the island before you turned back to the fridge, eyes flicking through what was left and still usable for you to meal prep a bit for the upcoming week.

Said upcoming week flew by faster than you’d expected, likely due to all of the added on extra tasks you had to complete by six p.m. on Friday. Even with the slew of assistants strewn through Heather’s team, everything had to be perfect, double or triple checked, approved by Heather or yourself before appointments were confirmed, meetings were booked, or things were publicized or printed. You often wondered if it was actually financially worth having your own personal assistant considering the amount of things you either did yourself or had to be redone. (Not that it really mattered to you, they weren’t on your payroll).

Friday’s banquet wasn’t much for you to worry about, just made sure you were dressed the part and were ready when the car rolled up to your condo. Dinner was over and cocktails were in full swing, time for schmoozing, networking and making sure that everyone went home remembering the Dunbar name and philosophy. You’d stepped outside briefly after dinner, chatting with a congressman while he had a cigar and gave you the opportunity to stretch your legs. Walking back inside you found a high top table to settle against, pulling out your work phone to read a handful of emails.

“You know, you are allowed to put that thing away, right?” Heather teased, sliding a glass of Cristal across the table to you and you rolled your eyes, locking the device.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew I was confirming some very affluent last minute sponsors for tomorrow.” You took a sip of the champagne, thinking back to your conversation on the terrace “and you’re welcome, Blythe will be voting in favour next week.”

“Good girl.” She grinned, clinking her glass with yours before her eyes drifted to the bracelet around your wrist. Her gaze lingered for a moment then moved upward and she reached out, lifting your earring with a curled finger before her eyes dropped to the gem resting on the swell of your chest. “Matching set?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of your drink.

“Haven’t seen it before.”

“It’s new.” You replied, a small smirk on the corner of your mouth.

“Looks expensive.”

“If you’re trying to suggest it’s out of my budget, you’d be correct.”

“It’s nice to see Emily has good taste.”

“Among other things.” There was a gleam in your eye that Heather was eager to find out more about, a smirk on her lips as she took another sip of her drink.

“Glad to hear.” Was all she had time to reply with when another body sauntered up to your table.

“Not surprised to see you two here.” Tony greeted with a wide smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before he reached out a hand, “Ms. Dunbar.”

“You know, I am surprised to see you here.”

“Drew the short straw.” He shrugged, “director had something come up, Gibbs would rather be caught dead than at one of these things and McGee doesn’t know his Dolce from American Eagle.”

“What about that other Agent you have right now, the little feisty one?” Heather asked, sly smile on her lips as Tony chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck in an attempt to distract from the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Ziva? These aren’t really her style; she wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I mean you could’ve at least brought her as a date, shown her the ropes so she knows for next time.” You offered, nudging at his shoulder and he let out another little huff.

“Oh, no, I mean, she’d hate that. She’d spend half the night flirting her way through the crowd and the other half having to convince everyone we weren’t actually together.”

“So she’s available?” Heather asked with a teasing smirk, pulling an awkward laugh from Tony.

“I— uh, well…” He stuttered, “maybe a little too… controlling… to be your style.” He suddenly leant against the table with his elbow, “but you know McGee does have a sister…”

“Do tell.” Heather grinned over the rim of her glass, pulling an eye roll from you.

“No!” You punched Tony’s arm before swatting in Heather’s direction. “Your dance card is already full,” you turned to Tony, “and she is way too young.”

“From what I heard, that’s how she likes it.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes as Heather chuckled.

“Age is just a number.”

“She graduated high school last year. That puts her younger than your kids.” You retorted, watching the way Heather’s nose crinkled before she laughed, happy to have found some amount of amusement from a night like tonight.

She let out a soft sigh as her eyes fixated on something across the room, “there’s Conway, looks like my time is now.” She turned back to you, “Durant may need some more convincing and I haven’t seen Sharp yet.”

“Please, all I need to do is bat my eyelashes in Jackie’s general direction and she’ll do whatever I want.”

“That’s why I keep you around.” With a smile and a nod to DiNozzo, she scooped up her champagne flute and made her way across the ballroom.

“Was… she serious?” He asked hesitantly and you laughed.

“No!” You took another gulp of your drink, “besides, like I said, her schedule’s full, she can’t take on more right now.”

“Speaking of schedules.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “I’m surprised to see you here on a weekend, thought those were for secret romps and exchanges of sugar.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder just how suave of a man you could be if you just let your brain think things through before they came out of your mouth.”

“Stop.” He groaned, leaning against the table as he turned to you, “or are you just saving your hot date for tomorrow night?”

“This week didn’t line up, I’ve got that fundraiser all weekend, which, you should bring your team to make it a little family outing.”

“I’ll think about it.” He took a swig of his beer, “really puts a wrench in your plans then, I can already tell you’re getting grumpy.”

“Anthony…” you warned, “we met up last weekend. It was kind of last minute but we made use of the time we had.”

“So no hot dates during the week?”

“Not usually, but we’re both busy, plus she was in New York all week at conferences.”

“A rich woman, who travels for work,” he began to tick them off on his fingers, “outranks NCIS, has significant style tastes, works full time during the week and sometimes weekends… are you sure you aren’t dating a politician.”

“I—” you paused, head tilting for a second before you nodded, “yes. Government employed but not by the White House.”

“Isn’t everyone technically government employed?”

“And we’re not dating, I thought you of all people would understand the stipulations of a financial beneficiary pairing.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

“She buys me nice things, pays for my hair or nail appointments, adds to my jewellery collection, makes sure my fridge is always full, sends fresh flowers weekly.” You spotted one of the people Heather wanted you to talk to on the other side of the room and drained your drink, “and in return I meet up with her at high end hotels on the weekends and let her fuck my brains out.”

Even though Tony had been expecting it, your brashness still left him choking on his beer as you smirked at him, picking up your empty glass to grab a refill from the bar and one for Durant.

**

Seven days later and fucking your brains out was exactly what Emily was doing.

It had been less than an hour and if she’d asked you about dinner, you wouldn’t have been able to remember a single thing. All you could think about was the feeling of her buried inside you, hitting deeper with each powerful thrust of her hips. Your hands clawed at the bedspread, eyes scrunched shut as your cunt pulsed around the toy, moans louder with each time she sunk into you. Her hands tightly gripped your hips, hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises come morning. You let out a little whimper, your nipples rubbing against the duvet every time she fucked into you, the multiple sensations driving you absolutely wild.

“More…” you groaned out, a gasp leaving your lips when she spanked you.

“God you really do like it rough, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” You managed to nod, fire shooting through your body, your clit throbbing as you ground it down onto the bed.

“Gonna need you to come soon princess.” She dropped over your body, husking into your ear while one hand tangled into your hair, yanking at the roots and you let out a blissful cry. Her mouth latched onto your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as her free had wound around your middle, fingers pinching at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “oh fuu-cck. Don’t stop!”

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding back any louder moans, whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls along with the wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your juices coated Emily’s cock, smearing across both of your thighs, more than enough for her to gather up as she rubbed your clit. She could feel you trembling in her arms, your hips bucking back against hers as you started to lose control.

“That’s it baby, you’re so close. Come for me.” She nipped at your earlobe, her breath hot on your skin right as she pressed harder on your clit and you were coming undone in her arms, a shaky cry coming from deep in your throat.

“Oh fuck…” you muttered, collapsing down onto the bed while she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her hips slowing just a hint.

“So good for me.” She panted, “where do you want my cum? In that pretty mouth? Hmm? Or maybe on this gorgeous ass?” A breathy gasp left your lips when she spanked you again and you moaned, pussy fluttering around her cock as you were coming up on a second orgasm.

“Inside me!” You whined, “please!”

“She likes it rough and she’s dirty?” Emily chuckled, “we’ve got a lot more to explore.”

She watched as your body shivered, thighs clenching together and your hands bunched tightly into fists as your second peak washed over you and then she let out a groan, stilling with her hips right against yours. Her hand quickly found the base of the toy, squeezing hard and you let out a satisfied moan at the feeling of her spilling deep inside you. Emily’s hand soothed up and down your back, watching as you caught your breath before she pulled the toy almost all of the way out of your pussy. She let out a low swear at the sight of it coated in a mixture of your cum and the lube before slowly nudging it back into you, fucking her cum deeper into your drenched cunt. You trembled again, a sheen of goosebumps breaking out on your skin and she finally pulled out of you, skilfully ridding herself of the strap to be dealt with later.

“Christ…” you muttered, your head burying itself into the pillows and Emily let out a small chuckle as she dropped down onto the bed beside you.

“Seems like you’re a little fucked senseless?” She offered and you let out a small laugh, your eyes barely blinking open to look over at her.

“Not to deflate your ego,” you let out a large yawn, “because you certainly did, but I am also just completely fucking wiped. I barely slept all week. Between Heather’s bill proposals and the upcoming endorsements I’ve been working twenty hour days.” Emily snuck under the blankets, an arm draping over the top of the pillows and you practically nuzzled into her side, yawning again as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey!” She swatted at your side, “none of that, you need to use the bathroom.”

“C’mon…” you whined, burrowing yourself deeper into the blankets and Emily tsk’d at you, pinching your chin until you opened your eyes.

“If you want me to come inside you again you’re going to use the bathroom missy.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, shivering as you pushed back the blankets and padded to the en-suite, much to Emily’s satisfaction. You returned a few minutes later, make up wiped from your face and teeth brushed, climbing back into the bed as you let out another yawn, curling around Emily’s side. “Are you staying?”

She shrugged, “got nowhere else to be. You mind if I keep the tv on?”

“Not at all. I’ll probably be dead to the world anyways.”

She chuckled softly, feeling you relax against her body as she started to flick through the channels. It wasn’t that late and while her week had been long it clearly hadn’t been as taxing as yours was. You were asleep within minutes, softly snoring against her and she made a mental note to start sending you good night texts in an attempt to make sure you were getting enough rest.

__________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny

[sofiareidings]

Is That A Hickey Or A Bruise?

Summary: You show up to work with a hickey on your neck and it raises a few questions from your coworkers.

A/N: Soooo...I've been gone for a while. I've had such bad writers block for like two months. It's still really bad, so idk how active I will be. Even though I couldn't bring myself to write coming online and seeing all of your likes and resposts always bring a smile to face. So thank you and I hope you enjoy this little blurb! <3

Word Count: 400~

Song Suggestions: Dress - Taylor Swift

A quick check in the car mirror and a deep breath were all you could do before walking inside. Sitting down at your desk and immediately diving into any type of paperwork, you raised a few people's curiosity.

“How was your night?” Emily turned in chair, ready to try and figure out the need to be so quiet today. Which was unusual for you. “Did you not sleep well?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just uh…couldn't fall asleep.” You nodded and then looked back down at your paperwork.

“What's up with the turtleneck? Never seen you wear something like that.” JJ stated while standing at the corner of your desk, exchanging a quick look with Emily.

“What? Not allowed to wear something different?” You tried to shrug it off, when you heard some footsteps behind you. Turning to see Spencer walking to his desk, quickly looking away as your face turned red.

“Hmm…you know that's the oldest trick in the book right?” Emily crossed her arms and gave you a look from her desk, probably already having figured it out.

“What's the oldest trick in the book?” You asked Emily, giving her the same look. A staring contest that luckily JJ broke.

“This, sweetie.” She reached over and tugged at the collar of your top. Your immediate reaction was to shoo her away, but she saw it. The purple-ish mark on your neck. “Wow, bigger than I expected.”

“Shut up, shut up. Don't talk about it.” You panicked and grabbed her hand. Pleading. This caught the attention of the other people in the office. Mainly Derek and Spencer.

“Well I think you are about to be interrogated by that one.” JJ said while holding back a laugh and nodding to Derek who was now trying to assess the situation.

“What aren't we talking about?” He said from his desk, most likely trying to profile the answer out of you, JJ, and Emily. “What's with the turtleneck…oh my God.” He laughed.

“I'm telling Hotch I'm sick and going home.” You said while trying to hide the embarrassment.

Derek stood up while still laughing and walked over to Spencer, reaching a hand out for a fistbump. “Pretty boy. My man.” He said through laughs. Spencer shook his head, not reaching his hand out. “Ouch, that hurts Reid.”

Once people settled down a little bit you stood up and walked over to Spencer's desk. Handing him some files and leaning over to whisper something. “Maybe next time don't be so harsh.”

“Maybe next time, don't be so obvious about the hickey.” He whispered back with a smile. You sighed and shook your head before walking back to your desk. Completely embarrassed.

[to-thelakes]

concussed

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; after you are attacked by the latest unsub, luke does his best to take care of you while you suffer from a concussion.

warnings; hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, minor injury, vomiting, stubborn reader, reader is concussed, a bit of a enemies to lovers but not really enemies

notes; i wrote this thing last night, i wanted to write something angsty because i wasn't feeling great and so i found an angry confession prompt but then it sort of just spiralled away from the anger and we have this! i sat and did some research on concussions (and u can sleep while concussed contrary to popular belief) so this should be accurate-ish! i might do a part two but for now, here it is <3

ao3 / masterlist

The case was taking a toll on your team and you wanted to try and pretend that it was okay. But it wasn’t. You continued to hit dead-end, after dead-end. Your profile didn’t seem to be leading you to any plausible suspect and the killer was devolving into a spree. And as much as being unable to solve the case was bothering you, something else was.

Luke fucking Alvez.

Honestly, you got along with Luke amazingly, most of the time. You’d had a rocky start when he had helped the team with finding the fugitives. He preferred to work alone which infuriated you because you were used to working in a team. He was defensive, reluctant to work with you and just annoying. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was but everything he did made your jaw clench and you wanted to punch his stupidly handsomely angular jaw.

JJ noticed it almost immediately when he began to work with the team. She often did her best to keep the peace between you and that had led to Rossi dragging you into his office more than once to try and understand what was going on. Hotch did the same before he left and then Emily did but every time, you made it clear that you didn’t have any issues with him.

Because you didn’t. He just ticked you off and after him spending so much time with BAU, the irritation slowly began to seep away. But there was something about the way he was acting on this case that was irritating you again. It was tipping you over the edge and you were ready to hit him if he stepped out of line.

And it just got worse when Emily kept assigning you to do tasks together. You assumed she was trying to heal the rift that had suddenly formed between the two of you but if anything, it had just made it all worse. You were walking on eggshells around him and he was doing the same with you. There was no harmony, no talking. It was just two frustrated agents, doing a really bad job at doing their jobs.

You were beginning to think maybe that’s why you were finding it so hard to understand the case but then, Reid managed to figure something out. Which led to the team leading an assault into a warehouse where they believed the victim was being held. 

In the car, everybody had been quiet, only the necessary things were said. Garcia called and answered all of Reid’s questions about the location. The team coordinated with SWAT. And when you arrived, you got out and Prentiss ordered the team to take the different exits. Of course, you were paired up with Luke.

But you had to focus on the Unsub and getting the victim out safe. Which is why you did your best to ignore the ticking anger in your chest that was threatening to explode at any given moment. Luke took first position, opening the door and stepping in. He flicked his flashlight around, keeping his gun up before he nodded, giving you the all-clear to step in. 

The warehouse was filled to the brim with wooden crates and the entrance led to a two-way split-off. So, Luke nodded to one side, indicating you to take it. You nodded and stepped towards it. There was the distant sound of voices but there was no way of being able to locate where it was coming from. So, you headed down the crate corridor.

You were quick on your feet but thorough as you used your flashlight to check any blind spots. You were not going to get caught unawares by the UnSub.

But that is somehow exactly what happened, you had found yourself at a four-way crossroads and you were shining your flashlights down every path, checking them out, when suddenly, a pain reverberated through your skull and you dropped.

The next few seconds were a blur of bodies moving past you as you tried to reach out for your gun, hoping to get a shot at the UnSub. However, he had hit you harder than you had initially and your depth perception was off. You tried to reach for your gun but you couldn’t pick it up. You tried to drag yourself forward but all the strength had left you.

“Luke,” You called out weakly but you weren’t sure how loud you even were. Your world was tilting on its axis when you heard the sounds of gunfire and then you slipped into unconsciousness. 

When your eyes snapped back open, you had been propped up against one of the wooden crates. The warehouse must have been switched on and when you looked around, Luke was standing a few steps away talking with Matt, his back to you.

Your eyebrows furrowed and Matt noticed you were awake. He must have told Luke because suddenly his head had snapped to you and he looked pissed. You had never seen Luke actually angry but this was it and you were a little scared.

Your ears were still ringing, the world still a little hazy so you didn’t hear what Luke said but then Matt was gone. You used the crates to slowly push yourself to your feet and Luke rushed to your side, holding your shoulders to keep you stable.

“What happened?” He asked, keeping his anger carefully controlled beneath the surface. 

“Unsub got me. Didn’t see him coming,” You explained, leaning back against the wooden crate. Luke stepped back, confident that you wouldn’t immediately keel over again even though your eyes were unfocused, “It wasn’t like I did it on purpose,” You added, clearly being able to see the anger that was rippling at the surface.

“If you did, this would be a different conversation,” He snapped, not amused by your comment. You sighed, letting your eyes fall closed as you pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead. Your head was throbbing and you were finding it hard to think straight.

“I’m not that fucking stupid,” You snapped back at him, forcing your eyes open so that could look at him. He huffed out in annoyance, hand moving to rub at his jaw before he looked back at you.

“I know.” His voice had softened a little. Your hand returned to your head, feeling the emotional whiplash from this conversation, “You’re impossible. You should have been more careful.” His voice had morphed from anger to relative calm as he looked at you. You muttered something in response before pushing yourself off the edge of the wooden crate.

“I’m fine, It’s not like I’m dead. So, it’s fine,” You brushed off his concern as you attempted to take a step forward. But you were completely off-balance and the movement had your world tilting off axis. Luke was quick to grab your arms, stabilizing you against him.

“No,” He responded as he helped you get back to your feet, “You have a concussion so you’re gonna stay here until the medic gets here and clears you. Is that clear?” You let your eyes fall closed again, stepping back to lean against the crate.

“Yeah, whatever,” You muttered. Once Luke was sure you weren’t gonna move again, he let go of you. He turned on his heel, pacing up and down the corridor of crates. You hadn’t seen him so stressed before. It was like he couldn’t stay still and he kept looking back at you, face set into a frown. It wasn’t helping how you felt.

“Was I bleeding?” You asked after a moment. Luke looked up and the short nod of your head made you sigh. You honestly couldn’t feel the pain but you assumed that the blood had already matted your hair. Maybe the cut on your head was the reason that your head throbbed as hard as it did. Then you felt it, bile racing up your throat. In seconds, you had turned around, hand pressed against the wooden crate, “Luke, I’m-” but you didn’t get to finish your sentence before you threw up in the space between your feet and the crate.

It burned your throat as you coughed and sputtered, tears beginning to stream down your face as your fingers curled against the wooden crate. By the time that you had done puking up, your stomach was empty and tears were running down your face. Your whole body felt weak and Luke was keeping your ponytail from falling into the line of fire.

His hand was against your back, running soothing circles as you gagged a few more times before coughing. It seemed that your body was done but your head hurt even more now. The headache had gotten worse, the violent push of vomit up your throat had just made everything a million times worse. Luke gently took hold of your shoulders, pulling you back from the mess of vomit before he turned you around. He was careful, keeping your movements slow as he pulled a cloth from his pocket. He was gentle as he wiped the corners of your mouth for you and you looked up at him, tears blurring your vision. He placed the cloth on a nearby crate before he pulled you into his chest. 

The tears were burning your cheeks but his arms engulfing you brought some much-needed comfort.

“Sorry, that was, that was disgusting,” You said against his chest. You were sniffling, silent tears falling down your cheeks as your head began to pound even more.

“Medic’s here,” Matt said, startling both of you. His gaze flicked from the two of you to the pile of vomit on the floor and he quickly understood what was happening. The medic then approached the two of you and you cautiously stepped out of Luke’s hold. The medic walked you to a nearby crate and made you sit down.

She then asked what date it was, what year you were in, who was president and it made you realize that you were a little foggy on the details. Everything about your personal life was intact but the second you got out further than that, it all became a little muddy. You were able to tell her everything. You told her what year it was and what president was in office but it took you longer than you would have liked to admit.

Then she made you follow her finger but you were finding it hard. It made your eyes hurt and your head ache and then she shined the flashlight in your eyes. The dilation levels of your pupils didn’t change at all.

“You’ve got a concussion,” The medic stated and you nodded, “Do you live with anyone at home?” She asked. You shook your head.

“It’s just me,” You muttered. She sighed.

“Okay, if that’s the case, it might be best if I get you checked into the hospital. You’ll likely be fine but you need someone to be supervising you at all times in case your symptoms get worse,” She explained.

“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” You tried to argue but the medic didn’t seem satisfied. She glanced at Luke and Matt who had silently watched the interaction, not sure what to make of your current state. Then she looked back at you and your head rested against the crate, eyes closed.

“Can I see your head wound?” The medic asked. Your eyes slowly reopened before you shuffled forward so she could take a look at it. You felt her push your hair around, pressing against your skull which made you seethe in pain a little. But it didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as you had expected it to, “Well, that’s good news. Your head doesn’t need stitches but I really would recommend that you stay overnight at the hospital.”

“I’ll be fine, I swear. I’ll just take it easy,” You insisted. The medic sighed and then she stepped back.

“Agents, would I be able to speak to one of you privately?” The medic asked. Luke and Matt exchanged a look before Luke gestured for the medic to follow him. Matt then walked over to you and sat down on the crate beside you.

“I think you should listen to the medic,” Matt said. You rolled your eyes before letting your eyes close again.

“I can take care of myself,” You repeated. 

“I’m sure you can but you’ve got a concussion and that means your brain isn’t functioning the same,” He stated blankly. You scoffed and huffed out. You didn’t even have the energy to open your eyes anymore. You were exhausted and you felt like you could have curled up on that crate and fallen asleep at a moment’s notice. But you didn’t, “Listen, buddy, I do not doubt that you can take care of yourself but we just want you to be safe.” Matt was approaching you like he did with his kids when they were being unreasonable. It seemed to work well on them but he wasn’t so sure about what it would mean for you.

“I’m always safe. I just wanna get home and get a glass of water, all I can taste is vomit,” You admitted. Matt nodded and he glanced over your shoulder to see Luke return from his conversation with the medic. He gestured for Matt to tell you to head out and so Matt was left with the task to coax you to your feet.

He kept a hold of you as you walked out of the warehouse and when you stepped out, the lights were still flashing red and blue. It made your head hurt and you flinched away from it. The rest of the team was talking with the PD, discussing what the best course of action was when they spotted you.

JJ and Emily were at your side in seconds and JJ took you off of Matt’s hands.

“How you feeling?” JJ asked softly. You shrugged.

“Fabulous.” The sarcasm laced your tone and they both knew it but it at least meant that you were still somewhat feeling yourself.

“Are you okay to go home?” Emily asked. You shrugged again.

“Medic told me that she would advise I go to the hospital if I don’t have anyone to look over me for the next day but I’ll be fine,” You insisted. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed and she glanced at JJ, who seemed just as concerned. Emily tried to argue back but like you had been earlier, you were set in your way. You refused to go to the hospital and when Luke came over, hearing your bickering, he only made it worse.

He explained that you had thrown up and that you were refusing to listen to anyone which only made Emily even more concerned. And somehow, in the midst of the conversation, people began to discuss whether any of them could stay with you to ensure that you were okay. You honestly began to tune the conversation out, resting against JJ’s shoulder.

Your eyes reopened again after a moment and you were looking at Luke. His arms were crossed over his chest, face set into a frown and you knew that he was mad at you. He had looked so angry and you had thrown up right in front of him. You mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ to him and he sighed.

“If you both have plans, I can watch over her. Roxy can stay with the sitter for another day,” Luke interjected. You let your eyes fall closed again. It was the first part of the conversation that you had heard and you didn’t really understand it. Emily and JJ exchanged a look before they looked back down at you.

“Are you sure?” JJ asked. Luke nodded.

“Listen, I don’t have any plans. It’ll be easier,” He said simply. You opened your eyes again to look at Emily who seemed a little worried by the proposition.

So, you decided to speak up, “He can just sleep on my couch and then, if I get attacked again, I’ve got a scary man to take them down for me.” There was an amused lilt to your tone and you met Luke’s gaze. He looked honestly a little baffled by you but he didn’t say anything against it.

“I don’t mind,” He added. You smiled and nodded, lifting your head from JJ’s shoulder. She kept a hold of you.

“Okay,” Emily agreed.

“But if something happens, you call me, okay?” JJ made Luke promise. He was quick to agree and then the four of you trudged to the rest of the team. You were quick to wrap up with the local PD and you got on the jet to head home. At some point, you fell asleep on the flight but you honestly weren’t sure when.

But when you woke up, you still felt atrocious. Your head ached with every blink of your eye and your memory was still a little fuzzy. However, you did remember that Luke was coming home with you. 

So, when he ushered you into his car, you didn’t bother to try and fight against it. You were surprised that he had even suggested that he could take care of you considering how snappy you’d been with each other but you didn’t have the brain power to question it.

Instead, you just directed him to your apartment, got him to park in your usual spot and he helped you get inside. You could at least walk on your own now but your head was killing you. The nap on the jet had done you good but you honestly didn’t feel much better. You need painkillers before you even went anywhere near your bed. And realistically, you needed a shower. You needed to get the blood out of your hair but you also didn’t have the energy to do anything.

Luke could tell that you were feeling overwhelmed and so, he just led you straight to where (he assumed) the bedroom was. He told you to get changed into pajamas but you were quick to start bitching about the blood in your hair. So, - with reluctance and under the condition that you kept the bathroom door unlocked so he could help you if something happened - he let you get a shower. 

The water relaxed your muscles and you felt cleaner without blood clumping your hair up and so when you got out, you slipped into pajamas and trudged into the living room. He had already gotten painkillers and a glass of water out ready for you and he was sat on the sofa. He seemed to constantly be on high alert.

“Thank you,” You said before you downed the pills with the water. He was quick to stand up, checking over you and you looked a lot better, “I have some spare pillows and a cover in my bedroom. So, you can at least sleep comfortably on the sofa. Can you get the ice pack out of my freezer while I do it?” You asked. He nodded and was quick to cross over to the kitchen while you went into your bedroom.

You pulled the spare sheets from the top of your wardrobe and began to put the covers over the pillows and duvet. However, the movements were making you dizzy. You were over-exerting yourself and you had to steady yourself on the edge of your bed. That was not good but you finished the job and returned to Luke.

You dropped the duvet and pillow on the sofa before you walked over to the kitchen. Luke was wrapping the ice pack in a towel just as you came up beside him. He offered it out once he was done and you placed it against where the pain was pulsating from.

“Will you be okay on the sofa?” You asked after a moment. He nodded and you sent him a smile, “Thank you for helping me. I haven’t really given you a reason to but I appreciate it,” You explained. It was probably the most vulnerable you had been with Luke in a while and he seemed to recognise that.

“Thank you for trusting me to be here,” He said. You shrugged, adjusting the hold on the ice pack to keep it more stable, “I was worried about you. I found you in a patch of blood and I thought I had lost you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” You weren’t sure if it was the concussion or reality but there was something akin to love in the way he spoke about you. You looked at him for a moment before you let your shoulders drop.

“I should have been more careful,” You responded. He shook his head.

“You had no way of knowing he had been there.” Luke was quick to shut you down. Everything he had said was out of frustration and worry for you but he didn’t know how to explain that. He just couldn’t have you beating yourself up over it.

“I would have if I’d just been paying attention. Instead, I was thinking about you and how angry I was at you. It would have been different if my head had been in it. But it wasn’t. We were both distracted by each other,” You said. Your voice had softened and you felt like there was a weight off your shoulders now that you had admitted that to him.

“Yeah,” He said and the silence spread between the two of you for a moment before he cleared his throat. He then suggested that you both head to bed and you thought it was probably best to call it a night. You said that Luke could change in the bathroom, and get a shower if he wanted to before you headed into your bedroom.

You curled up under the covers, thoughts of Luke lingering in your mind.

-

Your eyes snapped open, sweat dripping down your back as you looked around your dark bedroom. You were half-pushed up on the bed, the paranoia from your dream lingering. You could remember someone coming at you, something had come to find you but then it went completely blank. But you were safe. Nobody was trying to get you in here and so, you settled back down on the bed. It was uncommon for you to get nightmares after particularly difficult cases but it had been a while and you felt a little shaken.

Your head wasn’t hurting as much as it had a few hours ago but you didn’t feel any better than you had earlier in the day. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you kicked the covers back. You let your eyes fall closed when you heard the bedroom door open. You tilted your head to the side and Luke popped his head in.

He was surprised to see you staring back at him and he smiled, a little awkwardly.

“Please tell me you remember your name,” He said. You chuckled softly at his words before nodding your head. You repeated your name back to him and he nodded.

“Have you been checking on me since I fell asleep?” You asked. He nodded his head and you sighed, pushing yourself to sit up.

“The medic told me to check on you every hour or so,” He explained. He then stepped into the room a little bit and you rubbed your eyes with your hands. You were exhausted, you could feel it in every bone of your body. And if Luke hadn’t fallen asleep yet, you couldn’t imagine he felt much better. You wrapped your arm around yourself.

“Please tell me you fell asleep,” You muttered. He shook his head and you sighed. Your head fell forward slightly and you seemed to remember that you had gone to sleep with an icepack. Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked around. It seemed that you had dropped it but you weren’t entirely sure where.

“You looking for the pack?” He asked and you nodded. The pain was beginning to bloom in your temple again, “It’s back in the freezer.” That was a relief. You settled back on the bed but your body was still rigid, “What woke you?” He asked. Your head fell back against the headboard and you let out a hiss of pain.

“Had a weird dream,” You explained. He let out a soft ‘ah’ and you nodded, “Guess a head injury does weird things to your brain,” You muttered. He nodded. He was still leaning against the door frame and you just wanted him to get into the bed, if you were honest with yourself.

“You should try and get some sleep,” He said and you shrugged. You didn’t even want to think about trying to go back to sleep. You just wanted to stay up and talk to him for a little while. You knew that it would make you feel better but he also needed to sleep.

“You need it more than me,” You retorted. He shrugged and you sighed, “If you need to keep an eye on me, just lay in bed with me. It’ll be easier and you might be able to get some sleep.” You were blunt, exhaustion stabbing behind your eyes and your body was aching. You were so sick of the pretense.

“The couch is fine,” He quickly attempted to rebuke but you slipped off the edge of the bed and trudged over to him. 

“Drop the gentleman shit. Just lie in bed with me,” You said, grabbing his wrist and gently tugging him towards it. He sighed but gave in and the two of you slipped under the covers. You lay on your side, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on the injured side of your head. Luke lay across from you, facing you. Your eyes fell closed, “What did he hit me with?” You asked after a moment of silence. Everything was a bit of a blur and you could only really remember the shadowy figure of the Unsub walking away.

“Baseball bat. Aluminum.” Your jaw dropped at his words and he nodded his head, “I took him down and he had it on him. I thought the blood was the vic’s but then I found you,” He explained. You could only imagine how Luke had felt at that moment. It was a baseball bat. And the Unsub had hit you pretty fucking hard. You weren’t sure how you were alive but you were glad that you were even if your head hurt.

“I tried to shoot him but I couldn’t reach my gun,” You admitted. He adjusted his position so he was a little closer to you.

“I got him. The vic is fine. We did our job,” He attempted to soothe you. You nodded but it didn’t make you feel all that much better. In fact, you just felt worse. You should have got him but it was fine. You closed your eyes, hoping that you could just fall asleep. But you couldn’t. You sighed and looked up at Luke.

“Can you hold me?” You asked after a beat. His eyebrows furrowed but he simply nodded, shuffling closer to you. He then pulled you against him and you buried your face against his chest. Your eyes fell closed and he slowly began to run his hands soothing along your back.

“We can talk in the morning, get some sleep,” He whispered softly. You nodded and you felt the tension release from your shoulders before you slipped into sleep.

<3