#emily fields imagine

[oneshotnewbie]

Can we please get a PLL one (I missed my girls) where the reader is Spencers little sister and Emily gf and she’s taken by A and she manages to call Emily and the girls are hysterical and the reader talks to them like its the last time (angsty with a happy ending)

ᕚ---ᕘ

The streets were dark and deserted as you made your way home from visiting your possibly soon university. You were exhausted from the energy, hustle and bustle of campus life and longed for a quiet evening with Emily. She was probably already waiting for you at your family home, and you were really looking forward to spending the rest of the night with her, probably with a nice hot bath and a relaxing episode of your favorite series.

Tapping the steering wheel and whistling softly to the gentle tune from the radio, the silence was broken by the sound of screeching tires and a car getting dangerously close to you. You tried to stay calm as the car sped up and soon pulled alongside you in the opposite lane. You gripped the coating layer of the steering wheel, your knuckles already turning white as you tried to slow down. You thought maybe the person was just trying to get ahead of you. But it was too late, the car rammed you on the left rear of the vehicle and threw you against the guardrail.

You came to a stop with a thud. The accident wasn't serious, but you felt a sharp pain in your side as you sat up in your seat and watched as the other driver's car came to an abrupt stop. As you tried to calm down and get your bearings, you saw a dark figure get out of the black. Panic gripped you as you realized you were dealing with "A" who had been putting pressure on you and your friend group for years and so, in a desperate attempt to get help, you searched for your phone on the passenger side to make one last call.

Your fingers trembled in fear as you dialed Spencer's number. The phone rang once, twice, and you were startled as a shadow moved into your vision. “A” came walking towards you with slow steps. When you finally heard your sister's voice on the other end, you couldn't hold back your emotions anymore.

"Emily, please... help me," you whispered in a choked voice before your words were drowned out by a loud crash and a high-pitched scream. An iron bar had hit your windshield and gave way under the pressure. "Y/n, what's wrong? Where are you?" your girlfriend shouted, her voice sounding desperate and hysterically when she heard the ominious shattering of glass.

Her brow was furrowed as she threw the history class index cards on the table, standing up immediately to make way for her panic. Spencer, Hanna and Aria stood around her, their faces marked with fear and worry. "Em, I-I don't know how much time I have left in which I can speak. A is here to get me.“

You heard the girls' voices distorted through the phone and tears welled up in your eyes as you glanced nervously out of the broken windbreak. You sobbed as she tried to stay calm on the phone, even though she was already panicking inside, not being able to shake the uneasy feeling that you were in great danger. It gnawed at her and sent a cold shiver down her spine. "I don't know where he/she/it will take me. I'm scared, Em.."

Another shattering of the window in the passenger seat made you jump and a loud scream of your name came through the phone, followed by the voices of Hanna, Aria and Spencer, who were screaming in pure fear. "Y/n, listen, we'll find you, okay? Stay calm and do everything A tells you to survive!" Aria spoke, her voice shaking.

You felt how time was running out and the shadow under the hood was crowding you. There was no time to run away, especially since the stabbing pain wouldn't allow it. You shook your head. "You won't be able to find me, just like we haven't been able to find A all these years. Caleb will track my phone and then there will be no further trace of me. I will disappear.“ you spoke carefully, unbuckling your seatbelt and moving wildly looking around - the dark figure had disappeared from your view. "Emily.. I love you," you whispered in a broken voice, a stream of tears running down your cheeks.

“I love you too, sweetie,” the person addressed immediately replied with a halting voice, swallowing the lump in her throat as she looked to Spencer for help. Her mind was racing as she tried to think of a way out of this nightmarish situation. „I will find you. I will bring you back to me. I promise you!" you nodded involuntarily to yourself, listening to the voices of your friends encouraging you and promising to save you. But you also felt your strength fading, and you knew it wouldn't be long before something would happen that would end your life.

"Spencer, Hanna, Aria.." you whispered one last time and wiped your damp cheeks. "I-I.. thank you.. for everything."

Before anyone could answer, the door to your car was thrown open and you were pulled roughly out of the vehicle by the collar of your shirt. Your senses raged with fear as you felt a strong arm drape over your middle. Your screams were muffled by a rag held over your mouth as you listened tot he desperate cries of the girls. 

The world around you blurred and the darkness started to surround you. You didn't know why you had to be the victim. But you knew you had to fear for your life.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Two weeks had passed since you were kidnapped, and your friends' desperation grew with each passing day. The girls and their boyfriends had searched tirelessly for clues, but so far without success. Every day that you weren't found felt like an eternity to Emily.

Everyone had vowed not to give up, and they worked day and night to pursue every lead they could find. They searched the city and checked every place outside of Rosewood where they thought "A" might be holding you.

Then, finally, after countless hours of searching, they came across a promising lead. Mona had given them a tip that led them to an abandoned place on the outskirts of New York. It was a gloomy place, overgrown with weeds and marked by decay, but they knew they couldn't waste time.

As they walked along the small cobbled path past a house, they immediately felt the weight of the darkness that must reign there. But they did not let their resolve be deterred. Especially not Emily. She ran into the house and searched every room, every corner, every deserted hallway, her heart pounding with fear and hope. But she found nothing.

But as Caleb was about to close the closet, he heard a faint noise from somewhere below him. He followed the whimper and knelt down before feeling the carpet that had been laid out and discovered something underneath it. He picked at the corners of the rancid carpet, tossed it aside and found a hatch that led to an underground cellar. "I have something here!" he shouted and Emily immediately came around the corner, her shaking hands holding onto the hatch and immediately pulling it up.

They carefully descended the creaky ladder steps and when she entered the basement everyone froze in shock. There, in a crummy corner, you sat huddled on the floor, pale and exhausted, but alive. A hint of relief flooded through Emily as she rushed over to you and pulled you tightly into her arms. Spencer couldn't avoid rushing to her sister either.

"You found me," you whispered with a weak smile, your fingers dancing on your lover's cheek while your other hand searched for your sister's. "And we never gave up on you."

They left the scene together. Tobi had already alerted Tanner and some rescue workers, who immediately took you away to look after you. Emily breathed out, close to tears. She finally had you back, even though she thought she had long since lost you.

ᕚ---ᕘ

After your long stay in the hospital, you finally returned home. Walking back to your room felt like a rebirth after all the days of imprisonment and suffering, a return to a place of safety and peace. The air smelled familiar and the warmth of home enveloped you like a blanket of security. A familiar hug that you so desperately needed.

When you took the stairs to your room and shortly afterwards entered it, your breath caught in your throat. The gentle smell of food rubbed under your nose, there were candles everywhere that flickered gently and casted a warm light into the room. A bouquet of colorful flowers sat on your bedside table and your eyes widened in surprise as you saw how Emily had transformed the room into a romantic paradise.

"Em...that's incredible." you breathed as you fully entered it and closed the door behind you. Your heart felt warm and light as she felt the love Emily had put into this surprise. Your lover stepped out from the shadows smiling, her eyes shining with love and affection. "Welcome home, my love." She said quietly and moved closer to you to press a tender kiss on your lips.

“This is... this is beautiful,” you whispered as tears of gratitude sparkled in your eyes. She gently took you in her arms and hugged you tightly. "I wanted you to feel loved as soon as you got home." She spoke quietly and led you to your balcony, where you sat down at the small table and began to enjoy the delicious meal that Emily had lovingly prepared. You couldn't believe how much effort she had put into making you happy. Every bite was like a declaration of love and you thanked the stars for the wonderful woman who was by your side.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you spoke carefully, ruining the silence that had settled between the two of you. "Forever, don't you remember?" she asked, pulling up her sleeve. The colorful bracelet you had made for her years ago, before your relationship, was still attached to her wrist.

You smiled and pulled her towards you with a wave of your hand to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

After dinner you relaxed on the balcony lounger, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by stars. Emily cared for you lovingly, gently stroking your hair and whispering words of love and care to you. "I'm so grateful you're home," she spoke softly, holding you tighter against her front. "I couldn't imagine a better place to be." You replied and smiled happily, leaning your head back on her chest and closing your eyes.

In that moment, your home felt not just like a place, but like the safest and most beautiful place in the world. With Emily by your side, anything felt possible, and you knew that with her you could overcome any challenge life threw at you. All the darkness and pain you had been through could be overcome by your soulmate.

[girlkisser13]

dating emily fields would include

• emily is athletic and loves swimming, so expect to join her for early morning swims or to cheer her on during competitions. she'd also enjoy going on hikes or jogs together.

• emily is incredibly loyal and supportive. she would always be there to listen, offer advice, or just sit with you when you're going through tough times. her quiet strength would be a constant source of comfort.

• emily cares deeply for the people she loves and would go to great lengths to keep you safe. her protective side would show when you're in danger or feeling insecure, ensuring you know she always has your back.

• emily shows her affection through small, thoughtful gestures— like remembering your favorite snacks, giving you warm hugs after a tough day, or leaving sweet notes for you to find.

• while she can be shy at first, once she opens up, she'd value honest and open communication in your relationship. she'd encourage you both to talk about your feelings, concerns, and dreams.

• emily enjoys trying new things and being spontaneous. she might suggest a weekend road trip, trying out a new restaurant, or taking you on surprise dates to keep things exciting.

• given everything she's been through, trust is huge for emily. she would take her time building that trust with you, but once she does, it would be unbreakable.

• while emily enjoys spending time with her friends, she'd treasure quiet moments alone with you. whether it’s watching a movie, cooking together, or simply talking for hours, she’d cherish your private time together.

• emily has dealt with a lot of secrets in her life, so she'd be understanding if you needed time to open up about something. at the same time, she'd appreciate honesty and openness, as secrets have hurt her in the past.

• emily cares a lot about her family, particularly her mom, and she'd want you to meet and get along with them. family dinners and spending time with her mom would become a regular part of your relationship.

• emily is extremely gentle and reassuring. if you ever feel insecure or worried, she’d be quick to remind you how much she cares about you and what you mean to her. she’d always make sure you feel loved and valued.

• emily is very respectful of your boundaries, both physical and emotional.

• she'd never push you into anything you're uncomfortable with and would always be patient, letting the relationship progress at a pace that feels right for both of you.

• while emily can be a bit reserved in public, she’d be much more affectionate in private.

• whether it’s cuddling on the couch, holding your hand under the table, or whispering sweet nothings in your ear, she'd always find small ways to show her love when you're alone together.

• girlie is a bit of a romantic, so she'd surprise you with little acts of love— like bringing you flowers after work, writing heartfelt notes, or planning a cozy night in. she’d always want to make you feel special. <33

[natsvenom]

Angel

Jason DiLaurentis x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You’ve spent the past few days being distant with your boyfriend, Jason, after you and the liars are go to a coffee shop in town and run into his ex-girlfriend Cece Drake.

WARNINGS! Age gap, slight angst, alcohol ingestion, reader has an eating disorder (anorexia), body shaming, etc.

You and the liars walk into the Apple Rose Grill. Everything was stressful, per usual. Garrett had been let off the hook for murder and now Wilden was trying to make Hanna look guilty. There was currently a court order out for them to take a sample for Hanna’s blood. That would’ve been fine, knowing Hanna isn’t guilty. Except A has a way of making an innocent person a guilty one.

“Take it from me, you’re always better off with a really good lie.” A feminie voice said from behind you guys. You physically felt your heart stop in your chest. The voice was insanely similar to Alison’s.

“Is it just me or did that sound a lot like…” Emily mumbled. Younturned around to see a blonde girl standing at the register. There was no way that could be her, right?

“…Alison.” You guys said in unison.

The girl turned around with a smile on her face, but it quickly faded as she saw you guys staring at her like she was ancient relic, “Something wrong?” She asked.

“Oh, no, sorry.” Aria apologized, “You just sound a lot like one of our friends.”

“Hope she’s brilliant.” The girl said, “What’s her name?”

“Alison DiLaurentis.” You told her, staring at her like she was a lost dog.

She looked at you guys in realization, “You were friends of Ali’s.” She says, “Me too, I’m Cece.” You had heard that name before, you just weren’t exactly sure where from.

“Spencer.” Spencer spoke, greeting herself.

“Melissa Hastings little sister.” Cece noted, “Ali talked about you. She talked about all of you. A lot.”

“How do you know Ali?” You dared to ask.

“Before I moved to L.A our families rented summer homes in Cape May. We went through an intense couple weeks together. I dated her brother, Jason. She never mentioned me to you guys?” Cece explained. You suddenly felt tense hearing the mention of Jason. You could only imagine what she meant by an intense couple of weeks. But there was no need for you to be jealous, right? Jason was with you not her. But in the moment you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly gorgeous Cece Drake was. She had beatiful blonde hair, blue eyes, easily a size 4, and not to mention her confident outgoing personality. She was everything you weren’t.

For some reason this realization made you sick to your stomach. She looked perfectly healthy, while the reason you had looked the way you did was from practically making yourself sick. Almost your whole life you had been worried about your appearance; making sure you never ate more than 1000 calories a day, over exerrting yourself, and excercising till you felt your body break down.

You knew you were destroying yourself, but you wanted to be pretty. You wanted to be like the girls at your school who all the boys fawned over. You wanted to be the girl who was always picked first for group projects. You wanted to be the girl who wasn’t afraid to wear a crop top in public. You wanted to be like Alison, beautiful and destructive.

Alison had told you something that’s always stuck with you, “You’re pretty, but sweetie you need to drop a few pounds.” When she was alive you easily weighed 130 pounds. By the time your family moved back to Rosewood, you weighed 100, and now you weigh 110. everyone had noticed the dramtic changes over the years. Your family had done nothing but worry about you, the boys at school would whistle at you and make inappropriate remarks, Hanna was someone who you could relate to, and Jason was someone you could rely on.

Before you guys started dating, he found out about your eating disorder. At the time you and the other liars were still questioning if he was A, but after he had helped you get better you never once thought about him being A again, and dismissed the girls when every they tried to convince you he was just being friendly to get information. Luckily, things were different now.

You wondered why Jason had never brought up Cece Drake before. You silently wondered if there was any part of him that still thought about her. I mean she’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t be thinking about her.

You had been zoned out for so long you hadn’t even been paying attention to their conversation until you saw her about to leave, but she stopped in her tracks, “Do any of you girls know if Jason is seeing anyone? I hear he looks really good now-a-days.” Cece asked.

The rest of the girls looked at you subtly before turning back to Cece, “No clue.” Spencer said quickly, shrugging her shoulders. Cece nodded her head.

“Well if you see him tell him I say hi.” She said in flirtatious tone, making your skin crawl.

It had been two days since you last spoke to Jason. You spent the last couple of days worrying about your body, spiraling back into that same old self concious loop you had been so familiar with. He was starting to get worried about you. He had absolutely no idea what was going on with you.

You sigh, sitting in the driver’s seat of your car. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you really needed something to take your mind off Cece Drake.

Jason sighed as he sat down on the front porch of his house. He had absolutely no explanation for what was goingon and it was driving him crazy. He turned his head when he heard footsteps walking up to him. He had hoped it would be you, but was met with slight disappointment when he saw someone else.

“Hey.” Spencer greeted softly, walking up the porch to sit by her brother. He simply nodded at her, looking down at the cement floor, which suddenly became very interesting.

“I met Cece Drake this morning.” Spencer revealed. Jason looked up, a confused expression on his face. He hadn’t heard that name in so long, nor thought of it. Spencer could see the gears turning in his head.

“What?” She questioned.

“Was y/n with you?” He asked, looking at her desperately for answers.

“Yeah, why?” It suddenly clicked in his head what was going on with you. You weren’t ignoring him because you were mad at him. You were ignoring him because of something she had said.

You sat on a hard red stool at the bar, thanking Alison internally for getting you a fake id. All you had to do was flash it to the bartender and he came back with exactly what you thought you needed. Alcohol.

You had only drank a little bit, but you were already starting to feel tipsy. You were clearly a light weight, and almost everyone knew it.

“What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing here all alone?” A masculine voice asked from beside you. You turned your head to see a man sitting next to you, a glass of something that was defintely stronger than what you were drinking.

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.” You heard another voice say from behind you. You didn’t have to think twice about it to know who it was. You spun yourself around in the stool and were met with his warm green eyes. You groaned dramatically, pushing youself off the stool. You forgot that the stool was hightened, and practically fell right into Jason’s arms.

His arms wrapped around you quickly, pulling you back up straight. Well, straight as you could get in that moment, “I’m taking you home.” He said strictly, making you giggle. It wasn’t really funny, but right now everything seemed comical to you. You pushed past him walking out of the bar. You felt the cold night air hit your face. It felt good at first, but then it made you feel sick. You threw up into the bushes right outside the bar, right before warm hands pulled your hair back for you.

“I don’t feel good.” You mumbled, wiping your mouth off.

“Mm, I wonder why.” Jason quipped, rubbing your back as an attempt to soothe you. You groaned, shoving your head into his chest. He put one of his hands in your hair, rubbing your head comfortably.

“You smell good.” You mumbled into his chest, making let out a breathy laugh, “Can we make out now?” You asked, pulling him down by his jacket. He kissed the top of your head.

“Not right now pretty girl.” He said softly. You groaned, the annoyance making you roll your eyes. You pushed away from him, walking through the parking lot, Jason following closely behind you.

You stopped in the middle of the parking lot, looking at a group of trees intensly, “Hey, who put those there?” You wondered, observing the trees like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Jason came up behind you, shrugging his jacket off and putting it over your shoulders. He didn’t say anything, knowing that explaining the process of the life cycle of a tree to a drunk person would just end up with and endless amount of stupid questions.

“I think you should take a nap and then google it in the morning.” He said, intertwining his hand with yours as he walked you to the car, opening the door for you and helping you get in. The car ride home was relatively quite, but it wasn’t uncomfortable silence, it was nice.

When you got to the DiLaurentis house, Jason’s hands stayed on your waist as he guided you up the stairs. You plopped down on his bed as he pulled something out of his closet for you to wear. He helped you unzip your little black dress and pulled his hoodie over your head. You yawned as you threw yourself back onto his bed. He sat down next you, pulling the covers over you and placing a gentle kiss on your head.

“She’s pretty.” You mumbled into the cold pillow, grasping it in your hands. Jason sighed, knowing this conversation would end up happening one way or another.

“Whose the girl that I let sleep in my bed everyday and steal every single clothing item I own?” He teased, making you smile into the pillow. You knew he was right.

“But—”

“But nothing. I love you, and only you.” He assured, pulling you into him as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. You cuddled into his chest, grasping his shirt in your hands.

“I love you too, Jase.” You yawned.

“I know angel.”

[chloe-skywalker]

We Gotta Know - Jason Dilaurentis

Jason x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 662

Summary: The liars forcing you to go out with Jason after he asks. Hoping they can figure out if he’s -A. They don’t know you already dating Jason and have been for a while. So you tell Jason when you both go out.

Masterlist

Pretty Little Liars Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Come on Y/n.” Aira pleaded to Y/n. They really needed her help on this.

“We gotta know if he’s -A.” Hannah pointed out their main reason for trying to get her to accept Jason's date. They had overheard the two talking and Jason mentioned their upcoming date. Since the girls don’t know they’re dating they believe he was asking her out. 

“And this is the perfect opportunity.” Spencer added. She had planned it all out.

Y/n looks at them in shock. “You all are using me as a way to find out if Jason is -A. Okay one I could get hurt if he was, two Jason is not -A.”

Emily furrowed her brows. “How do you know he’s not.”

“Ali was his sister. Sure they didn’t get along but he wouldn’t kill her.” Y/n tells them what she thought should be good enough reasons.

“We have to know for sure. So please do this.” Aria pleads one last time.

“Fine.” Y/n gave in. They wouldn’t leave it alone and she couldn’t tell them the truth. They’d freak.

Later after messaging Jason back and accepting the date, the two made plans for going to see a movie and walk around for a while and get dinner.

“Hey Jason.” Y/n greeted him with a hug and a smile.

“Y/n/n” Jason smiled as he escorted her to his car and they headed off on their date.

They went and saw the movie and had a nice time. Now the two were just walking around through the strip mall. 

Jason noticed how she seemed a little on edge, and it worried him. 

“What's on your mind?” He had noticed her odd behavior and Jason really felt like he needed to say something.

“Huh?” Y/n looked at him in confusion.

“You're slightly distracted, looking around like we’re being followed or something.” Jason added before noticing how even after mentioning it she’s still acting that way he asks. “Did -A message you?”

Y/n shook her head, she had to tell him. She wouldn’t keep it from him. “No. It’s the girls.”

“What do you mean?” Jason furrowed his brows. Why would the girls be making her act this way?

“They think your -A.” Y/n admits looking at him with apologetic eyes.

“What?” Jason was in shock and couldn’t believe it. The girls thought he killed his own sister.

“They think you could be -A so when they overheard us planning this date, since they don;t know we’re dating. They thought it was a perfect chance to see if your -A.” Y/n told him, explaining the situation.

“I can see why you don’t want to tell them.” Jason grimaced, god this situation was so messed up he thought.

“I tried telling them you're not -A but it’s hard to go to the extent of doing it when I can’t tell them how I know.” She gave him a sad smile.

“I appreciate it.’ He gave her a small understanding smile before sighing. “Me and Ali didn’t get along but I wouldn’t kill her. Or threaten you guys.”

Y/n nodded and scoffed. “I know. Ali wasn’t the nicest person. Honestly half the time she was a bitch. To everyone. But you wouldn’t do any of this.”

“So are you worried their watching us?” Jason asks, looking around himself.

“Possibly. I don’t know.” Y/n shrugged nervously. She didn’t know if they were but she wouldn’t put it pass them. She was nervous the whole time and had been slightly distant from him the whole night because of it.

“Wanna run to the car and get outta here and be alone? If they are following us and watching we can lose them.” Jason smirked at his girl as he grabbed her hand in his.

“That sounds amazing.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Let’s go.” Jason grabbed her hand and they bolted to the car laughing.

taglist: @padawancat97

[clarkgriffon]

fashion in rosewood in every episode → love shAck, baby (4x15)

[rhinestoneprincess]

Pll fans follow me

[lilliejareau]

Emily: I heard Rossi's knee crack so loudly yesterday that I half expected it to glow in the dark during the night.

[elenasalvator13]

Pretty little liars aesthetic

Happy Easter everyone

[chi-the-idiot]

I had the idea a couple months back to "redesign" the liars of the PLL series (a show I watched only the first season of, do not intend to finish, and have never read the books of) after a brief hyperfixation on watching essay videos of it on youtube and reading the fan wiki.

The hyperfixation was short

BUT I did get to finish my design for Emily (my favourite baby) and sort of have an idea for Aria (mostly based off of the books)

Im not sure I will EVER finish this (my art peaked at Emily and also I probably deleted the brushes I used because Im a mess) so this will probably be my only contribution to the fandom.

ALSO ALLISON SHOULD'VE STAYED DEAD AND ARIA SHOULD'VE BEEN "A" AND GOTTEN AWAY WITH IT, JUST SAYIN'

[g0dlyunsub]

it takes two.

spencer deals with a lot on the field, but nothing can prepare him for when he’s stuck inside a locker with you.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: 18+ due to sexual themes but no smut, slight claustrophobia triggers

word count :: 2.2k

author’s note :: inspired by a scene from s9e23, i'm imagining spencer in a fitted collared shirt and tie, reader wears a skirt

accompanying song :: stuck between by dutch criminal record

“nothing’s showing up on vicap. i’ve cross-checked records against everything you’ve mentioned, sir, but there’s literally nothing. zilch,” you hear garcia let out an exasperated groan as she ferociously taps at her keyboard. 

you watch as hotch kneads the skin between his brows with growing impatience while morgan starts to pace around the room. you’re not doing any better yourself, your stressed-out fingers threatening to tug at the strands of hair neatly holding your ponytail together. 

it’s too frustrating. the leads are clearly there, but your team is lacking the final puzzle piece to complete the profile, to confirm that it’s someone in the department that’s deliberately injecting themselves into the investigation.

“your answer is probably written down on paper. ugh, i hate when bad guys try to act all smart,” garcia fumes, and sulks as she gives an apologetic wave from her side of the screen. hotch nods, relays a thank you, and cuts the call before rounding the whole team together.

“think about it, those two are the perfect scapegoats. all of these agents have everything to lose, so why not just blame them? they’ve been in and out of cells already, and it makes perfect sense to craft a narrative that’ll point fingers at them,” morgan starts, making small gestures as he speaks with his signature cadence, topped with a honeyed rasp.

“and they’ve got all the authority to influence the public’s opinion,” jj nods in agreement.

“we need to try to get those two to talk again, but we also have to take extra precautions. jj and prentiss, go interview them one more time to see if they’ll spill any names. morgan, i need you to work with garcia to look for other possible leads. reid and l/n, go to the records room to review the files of the agents working with us. dave and i will try to hold down the fort,” hotch instructs, nodding at each of you as he rolls out the orders. 

“and try not to draw suspicion. if all else fails, say that you need to run to the bathroom,” rossi adds with a wink. it always amazes you how calm the italian agent is during such high-pressure situations, a trait you’ve grown to immensely appreciate.

“shall we?” you say as you nudge spencer, and he hums back in response. you bid a wish of good luck to emily and jj and traverse the hallway to the records room with the doctor, your heels clacking beside the cushioned steps of his slightly worn converses. 

after looking left and right to make sure no one’s around, spencer opens the door. you silence the sounds of your heels as you follow inside, and let the bolt of the lock plunge into the frame by slowly closing the door. 

“alright, you take the left, i’ll take the right,” you whisper, and spencer gives you a thumbs up. 

the two of you work silently and as fast as possible, sifting through the piles of records that lie on the tables and beside the cabinets. you feel your heart jump into a cartwheel every time a sheet of paper slips out of the manila folders, the sounds of rustling and creasing setting you on edge. 

“i found mcgregor and drew, but i don’t think it’s either of them,” spencer declares with a voice that isn’t supposed to sound loud at all, but it feels hundreds of decibels higher than the bare whisper you spoke with earlier. 

“okay, i found weaver and lee, but they don’t fit the profile either. let’s continue looking for the other two,” you call back. 

spencer walks over to you and kneels beside your left to help you with your search. once you spread the folders on the floor, you spot one of the two remaining files, and spencer soon finds the other. you’re about to turn through the sheets in the folder when the doorknob starts to shake, startling the both of you.

“shit. spence,” you blurt as spencer takes his file in one hand and grabs yours with the other, and shoves them into an open drawer. after he slides the compartment back with his careful and nimble fingers, you grab his arm and squeeze into a spare locker. you barely manage to seal the opening shut in time.

you could say that it was quick thinking that saved your and spencer’s cover, since the door jiggles and thrusts open a mere second later.

you never would’ve imagined that the day would come when you would draw air directly from spencer’s breaths, let alone enclose yourself in the same room as him. 

and yet here you are, perched on top of spencer’s knee, the scratchy fabric of his trousers resting under the hollow space of your pencil skirt and between your legs. his other leg presses against your side of the wall with an uncomfortable bend, while his chin sits an atom’s width from your forehead.

it’s a nonnegotiable consequence that comes with his tall figure, the way his clothed knee has to rub against your inner thighs under the draped fabric.

one of your hands lies awkwardly on his chest while the other is on his thigh, right above the knee that’s using you for leverage. your attention immediately shifts to your left when you see the rays of the intruder’s flashlight scope through the room. 

you stop mid-exhale when the light pours through the gaps of the locker, casting shadows on spencer’s face and your body. he looks stressed, anxiously wetting his lips with closed eyes, face turned away from you.

and he looks overwhelmed. rapid bursts of inhales and exhales fire from his body, likely due to the collar of his shirt being bound tightly around his neck with the tie. with shaking fingers, you slowly reach for his tie, waiting for approval to loosen it. 

you feel his forehead bury into the cave of your shoulder, and he whispers his desperate ask into your ear: “please.”

despite the lack of light around you, you’re able to locate the small end of his satin tie, and you tug lightly. the knot unfurls as you pull, and spencer lets out a small sigh of relief before breathing a low thank you in your ear.

as this happens, you hear the intruder surf through the piles of papers, unlocking drawers and lifting boxes left and right. hurry, hurry, hurry, you pray desperately in your head. beads of sweat start to form at your temple and threaten to fall down to your exposed neck, which happens to be situated directly in spencer’s line of sight.

“come on,” you hear the guest in the room complain, angrily flipping through papers and slamming the cabinets. you think it’s finally time for him to leave when you hear the high-pitched ring of his phone. 

but your eyes widen when instead of heading to the door, he makes strides towards the locker right across from yours, and leans his back against it before holding the phone up to his ear. holy shit.

“jensen speaking,” he says with a gruff voice, and plays with the button of his flashlight so it turns on and off spontaneously. as the light flickers, it dimly shines the space inside your locker. 

spencer turns his head to meet your eyes, a panicked expression covering his face. you’re about to mouth a small sorry for the helpless situation you’ve dragged him into, but just as you’re about to do so, spencer’s trousers slide against your legs, creating friction so unbearable that you let out a squeak. 

you freeze, looking up to see spencer’s eyes flash warningly. he instantly clasps your mouth with his hands to cover any further sound from escaping your lips, but with no form of support to maintain his position, he starts to slip, and his shirt lightly skids against the locker’s slippery walls. this is somehow even worse for you, because spencer’s knee starts to dig further up your legs and into your cotton underwear, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

luckily for the both of you, jensen seems to be distracted by whatever words are being spewed from the other end of his phone call to pay any mind to your suppressed yelps. 

“i think their agents might be on to us,” he scowls, and you watch from the corner of your eye as he tosses the last of his files into a box and opens the adjacent locker to ram it inside.  

“yeah, i’ll try to stall them for as long as i can. they don’t know what they’re getting themselves into.” 

jensen curses and promptly ends the call, returning his phone into the pocket of his shirt. he finally walks to the door, sighing as he twists the knob and steps out. the two of you lie in wait for an additional three minutes before trying anything. 

“i think we’re good,” spencer huffs, finally opening the locker door with a thud as the sounds of steel clashing against steel echo throughout the air. 

“yeah,” you nod, taking a breath to collect yourself as you step out. you watch as spencer runs a hand through his hair and moves his fingers down to adjust his tie. 

he returns the stare, his adam’s apple bobbing when he eyes your wrinkled shirt and scrunched up pencil skirt – which looks more like a mini-skirt with how it sits right below your hips.

“i um, i need some air. how about you?” spencer asks at last, clearing his throat. you bite your lip when he starts to brush the dust off his thighs and knees, the moments of earlier flooding into the back of your mind like the warmth pooling between your thighs.

“yeah, i could use some fresh air too,” you respond breathily, averting your eyes and focusing instead on smoothing out your shirt and retying your loosened ponytail. when you’re done, you turn around and stagger to the door, not looking twice to see if spencer’s following you. an intense flush spreads across your cheeks, and your only viable path of escape is to the bathroom.

“you, um, missed a spot,” you hear from behind, and you follow spencer’s gaze to see that he’s referring to the back of your skirt.

“oh,” you say as embarrassment swamps you, and you hurriedly pat at the fabric. “does that look better?”

“it’s still folded there. if you want, i can- may i?” 

the question tumbles from his pretty lips and messes with your head. his hand hovers right around your waist, the same way yours lingered on his tie as you waited for his consent. and his softening eyes. his slightly smoldering gaze looks so innocent and alluring at the same time, your heart starts to feel heavy with the weight of desire. 

note to self: never wear a pencil skirt again.

“please,” you utter like a silent prayer, and mentally prepare yourself to endure the test of his fingers against your skin.

as soon as he receives your word, his hand lightly brushes against your thigh and trails down your skin. he takes the hem of your skirt and pulls down, giving several tugs before releasing the stretched garment. 

he clears his throat when you don’t move even after he’s retracted his hand.

“all good now.” 

spencer’s words drown out your thoughts and snap you back to reality. he’s already standing by the door, holding it open for you with a patient smile.

“thanks,” you say as you walk out and rub your hands together, nervous for what you’re about to say next. “spencer, um, i’m so sorry about that whole ordeal, it was really unprofessional of me to drag you in there, i wasn’t thinking when i-”

“you did the right thing,” spencer interrupts your ramble with the shake of his head, and his flawless smile pulls at your heartstrings.

“i would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn't. that door’s the only way in and out if you don’t count the windows,” he continues, slipping his hands into his pockets as he walks you to the elevator.

“oh,” you shyly murmur back, your cheeks flushing with a shade of bright pink as his words pour over you like warm water. he would’ve pushed you in there if you hadn’t?

“yeah, but how about we try a bigger locker next time?” spencer almost reads your mind as he half-mindedly jokes, causing you to drop your jaw in shock. he doesn’t acknowledge your reaction, however, because he starts to dial rossi’s number on his cell.

“by the way, the uh, new look suits you. the grey skirt and all,” spencer says with a lopsided smile before he raises a hand to excuse himself and call rossi. you’re saved the embarrassment of responding when rossi accepts the call, but your palms are already profusely sweating at his compliment.

note to self: maybe wear the pencil skirt again.

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[oneshotnewbie]

Emily Prentiss - The littlest hero

Part II

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topics of abuse, trauma, child neglecting, punishments and the plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Exhausted, Emily headed towards the kitchen. The day started early for her, it was going to be a long day at work and she just wanted to spend the day at home. Happy to have a refreshing hot cup of coffee, he walked past a room and heard a quiet murmur through the door.

She carefully went to the door, placed her ear against the ajar door and listened. That was not really the special agent's style, but she had been through it many times over the last few years. She could hear you from inside, but you did not speak clear sentences, just fragments and could clearly hear the word "dad" pronounced several times. Then she realized that you had to experience another difficult dream.

She poked her head through the crack as she heard you getting more nervous and louder. Nightmares like that were no joke and when you suddenly started calling for her name in your sleep, she had to come to you. Your cries became more and more irritated and desperate. By now tears were streaming down your face too and it was hard for her to imagine the hell you had to go through in your past.

You tossed and turned restlessly in your bed, sweat glistening thickly on your forehead. With quick steps, Emily bridged the last few meters between her and you. She gently shook your shoulders, "Y/n, sweetie. Wake up!" you jumped up, breathing shallowly and quickly, trying to find your bearings in the darkened room you were laying in. "You are safe, I am here."

A hand placed itself on your chest, feeling your heartbeat drilling into it. You nodded, your gaze wandering around the room disoriented before your sight stopped at Emily´s face reliefed. "Your father can not hurt you anymore. It is all good," the black-haired woman sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still firmly on your chest. "That was just a nightmare."

Exhausted and looking for support, you let yourself sink into her protective embrace and were glad that she was with you now. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, brushing through your silky hair. You silently raised your shoulders and let them fall again. "No, I do not know."

You looked over at the window. The first rays of sunlight penetrated through the shutters into your pink room and you realized she must have just gotten up from her own sleep- her hair messy while her tired features were soft and relaxed. The sight alone made the storm inside you slowly subside.

You were safe. You had always been safe since you came into the care of the black-haired woman. It was just a dream of your past that you did not seem to push aside as quickly as you wanted. " That is okay, you do not have to talk about it," she spoke softly and began to move into the tiny space under your duvet, but rested her head on her hand and looked at the little penguins skiing on your pajamas. You nodded and pushed yourself into the far corner of your princess bed to make more room for her.

Emily knew nightmares, there was hardly a night where you did not get any and slept peacefully, but you both worked on it with a psychologist. The dreams were actually always just about your father or the white wardrobe. Depending on what your subconscious was processing, it tormented you even in your own childhood dreams.

And today was an especially hard night. Your father's funeral was yesterday and you could hardly stand the thought of saying goodbye to your father. In your eyes, he deserved to finally die. You had discussed it openly with your adoptive mother and she had decided with you that you had no obligation to be seen at his funeral. It would probably cause you more pain and reopen old wounds than it would provide you with any kind of release.

You wanted nothing more to do with your father and your past. You finally wanted to live and arrive, in the here and now, without being constantly chased by the ghosts of the past. You needed time to process all of this and come to terms with it. It would take time, after all it was a long-term trauma, but your new life together with Emily taught you courage.

After a few minutes of silence, in which you enjoyed her closeness and your heart calmed down, you spoke up again. "Can you maybe sleep with me today?" You asked sheepishly and smiled, watching as Emily began to grin mischievously.

She graced your stomach with one finger, before dropping down and starting to tickle you like crazy. Your laughter lit up the entire apartment in a cheerful and happy atmosphere as you loudly tried to get out of her grasp. The nightmare disappearing from your memory.

"There is no more sleeping here, princess. It is time for school, math is calling."

[girlkisser13]

emily fields masterlist

* indicates smut

headcanons

dating emily fields would include

nsfw headcanons *

imagines

drabbles

[natsvenom]

Every Minute, Every Second

Jason DiLaurentis x Montgomery!Reader

Based on the post-dollhouse episodes of PLL but not much relation to actual episodes.

No mentions of Y/n.

SUMMARY: You and the other liars have been rescued from the dollhouse and you finally reunite with your boyfriend who you've been infatuated with since you've met. He's always been affectionate with you, but now he never wants to let you go.

WARNINGS! Mentions of kidnapping, torture, abuse, etc. Smut!!

The sound of the fire alarm blaring in your ears made you anxious, reminding you of all the times Charles had turned on the ear bleeding sound through the speakers to torture you. Suddenly you became aware of your surroundings, noticing the heat from the fire that was spreading around you burning your skin. You watched as every last memory Charles had left of his life burn to ashes.

“Let’s go!” Spencer shouted, grabbing your arm as you and the rest of the girls rushed out of the room to safety.

You rushed down the dark narrow hallway, calling out for Mona. Who had been missing since earlier, “Help me please!” Mona screamed. You could hear her sobs coming from a room ahead of you. You ran toward the door, prying it open with your bruised hands. You looked around hastily, searching for Mona. As you looked down you saw a terrified Mona, her arms were wrapped around her chest as her sobs echoed through out the entire room. Though it looked more like a dungeon to you.

You and the girls found a long strand of thick rope, you used it to help pull Mona out of the hole. It took all your strength, still feeling weak from everything you had endured in the past three weeks. As you finally managed to free Mona, you and the girls ran down the hall, searching for escape. You stopped running once you reached the ladder toward freedom. You climbed as fast as you could, your hands shaking as your feet stumbled a few times. It seemed useless though as you could barely get the door open. The smoke started spreading throughout the bunker as it made its way into your lungs. The smoke scratched your throat, making your chest hurt from choking, but by some sort of miracle, the door came open as you ran out into freedom.

As you ran out you saw people who you thought you might never see again: Alison, Caleb, Toby. But most importantly you saw him. The man who you spent every second worrying about, wondering how he chose to cope. You froze in your place, locking eyes with him. You missed that blonde hair, remembering the times you’d run your fingers through it. But his eyes were what got to you, they were glassy, he looked like he was about to cry, they were somehow greener than you remembered. Even though they weren’t the color of the ocean, you still felt yourself drowning in them.

You broke out of your trance, darting over to him as fast a your feet would take you. You jumped into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. His arms wrapped around your back, squeezing you so tight you thought you might explode, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that he was there, in front of you.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, feeling the tears beginning to fall. He had one hand on your back and the other was in your hair. He couldn’t believe you were here, in his arms. He didn’t know if he could ever let you go again. Every minute he was awake, he spent searching for you. Every second of the day, he spent worrying that he would never see you again. He removed his arm from your back, now holding your face in his hands, looking into your eyes.

You could tell he was deep in thought, but right now all you wanted to do was kiss him. You pulled him close, attaching your lips to his, sighing into him. You missed him every minute you were in there. Every second. You put your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands. He kept his hands on your face, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks softly.

He pulled away hesitantly, pushing lose strands of hair behind your ear, “I love you.” He spoke softly, resting his forehead against yours. You should see the tears falling from his eyes, you brought your hand up to his face and wiped the tears away with your thumb.

“I love you too, Jase.” You said, your voice still slightly scratchy from the smoke. He pulled you into another tight embrace, resting his head on top of yours with his arms around your upper back. You wrapped yours around his waist as your head lay on his chest.

The EMTS wanted to take you to the hospital, considering you had inhaled a bunch of smoke. But mostly because of being kidnapped for three weeks, nobody had any idea on what happened to you and they needed to make sure there were no serious injuries. You told them you wouldn’t go unless Jason could go with you, not wanting to be alone another second. The whole time he held your hand, or ran his fingers through your hair. There was never a second he wasn’t touching you. You missed the small moments of intimacy like this.

At the hospital the doctors treated a small cut you hand on your forehead, and wrapped your bruised knuckles with bandages. They also gave you fluids as you were severely dehydrated, which didn’t surprise you as Charles had left you outside for almost three days straight. Luckily, there were no major issues so you were cleared to go the same day.

You wanted nothing more than to be with Jason, but your parents got to the hospital and wanted you and Aria to stay home for the time being. You couldn’t have been more disappointed, you understood, but it still pissed you off. Your parents had always been protective as parents should be, but right now the safest you felt was with Jason.

As you got home, you walked into your bedroom, feeling extremely uncomfortable. You couldn’t help but remember every moment of torture you had endured in the dollhouse. You wanted nothing more than to rip every thing off the walls, get rid of every item that was laid on your desk, rip each and every book off the shelves, but you didn’t. What you didn’t realize as you stared at your no longer comfort zone, was that Jason was behind you, assessing your every move. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t wanna scare you, he also didn’t wanna approach you just in case you flinched away. So, instead he knocked on your already open door.

You turned around to see him leaning against the door frame. In the dark you weren’t really able to see him, but now, in the dim light of your room, you got a good look at him. He looked different, his hair was tousled and you could see the puffiness of his eyes. You walked up to him and put your hand on his cheek, circling your thumb over it. He leaned into your touch, staring into your eyes.

“You don’t mind if I stay, do you?” He asked softly.

“Of course not,” You said, “I feel safer when you’re here.” You confessed. He grabbed the hand that was on his face and pulled it away so he was now holding your hand. He stepped inside your room and closed the door. He pulled you over to the bed, lying down first and pulling you on top of him. You cuddled into his chest, grasping his shirt into your hands.

You knew the moment was entirely chaste right now but you couldn’t help but feel a burning feeling for him. You haven’t been able to entirely feel him in three weeks, you missed the moments when he would lather your entire body with soft kisses, leaving marks where only he could see.

You pulled your head up from his chest and sat up straight on his lap, looking into his sea green eyes. You planted your hands on his lower torso, just above the waistband of his pants. He looked into your eyes, searching for what was going through your head in this exact moment. His question was answered when you leaned in and kissed him, your hands running down his body.

He put his hands on your face pulling you away momentarily, “As much as I’d like to, are you sure you want to?” He asked, pushing the lose strands of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, I’m sure. I need to feel you.” You answered desperately, putting your hands under his shirt. He sighed at the feeling of your hands on his skin. You leaned back down, kissing him harder. His hands found their way to your hips, squeezing slightly. You moaned into the kiss as he sat up, the friction making you ache for him. You broke the kiss, tugging at his shirt. He assisted you on taking it off, giving you full view of his body.

He flipped you over on your back, hovering over you as blonde strands of his hair dangled above your face. You traced one of your fingers down his abdomen, making his shiver. He grabbed your hands and pinned them to the sides of your head, but not forcing them to stay there. You knew if you asked him to be rough with you, he would say no, in fear of hurting you, so you didn’t ask.

He planted kisses down your throat, sucking at the one spot he knew would get a reaction out of you. You whimpered, fidgeting beneath him. He smirked into your neck, putting his hands under your sweater, just resting beneath your bra. He pulled your sweater over your head and tossed it on the floor. He began kissing all the way down your body, from your collarbone, to your chest, all the way down to your abdomen, stopping when he reaches your the waistband of your cotton shorts. He looked up at you for permission, when you nod he pulls them down and tosses them on the floor by your previously discarded sweater.

He hovers over you, running his hands all over your body, making you whine for him to touch you. His hand slides down to your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb just before he slides it further up. His fingers trace over your underwear, putting the tips of his fingers in to pull them completely off, making you feel slightly insecure under his gaze. He somehow senses your fears and kisses you with so much passion and neediness that you think you’ll implode.

“You’re beautiful, so beautiful.” He mumbles, snaking his hands behind your back to unclasp your bra and disregard it with the rest of your clothes. Your completely vulnerable beneath him and he knows it.

You shiver as his hands trail from beneath your back and down your waist and hips.

“Jase.” You whine, clenching against nothing. He knows what you want and he knows exactly how to give it to you. He wasn’t going to deprive you now. He trails his fingers down your thighs, all the way down your legs and stops as he reaches your ankles. You let out a shaky breath, trying not to unravel completely.

He throws your legs over his shoulders, holding down on to your hips, pushing you into the mattress to keep you from moving. In one swift movement, he attached his mouth to your clit, sucking harshly. You moaned his name, tugging at his hair. You attempted to squeeze your thighs together but his hands kept you pried open.

You loved the way his muscles tensed as he wrapped his arms around your legs, holding you in place. It just turned you on that much more. He always noticed the “sneaky” glances you’d take at him, though he’d never admit it to you.

“Jase, please.” You begged, wanting to feel all of him. He seemed to understand what you meant as his mouth left your clit. You sighed, the sudden emptiness leaving you desperate for something more. He let go over your legs, hovering back over you. You pushed the blonde strands of hair out of his face and pulled him into a needy kiss. You hands trailed from his face to the waist band of his sweatpants. You were quick to untie the strings, tugging his pants down. He assited you, pulling them down the rest of the way. He reacted quick, grinding into you desperately. You whimpered at the sudden friction, feeling yourself getting wetter.

“Don’t tease.” You mumbled, almost incoherently. He chuckled at your neediness, loving how he got you all riled up underneath him. You put the tips of your fingers in his boxers, pulling them down. You really did not want to waste any time.

“Someones a little desperate.” He joked, watching your every movement. You looked at him as you rolled your eyes. He leaned his forhead against yours, searching your eyes for any sense of regret. But the only thing he saw was love. He kissed you passionately as he pushed into you. You moaned into his mouth, the sudden feeling of being stretched out hurting you ever so slightly. He was doing his best to go easy on you, making sure you were comfortable the whole time. Usuaully, you would protest against the delicacy, but this was different. You were making love, not fucking.

He thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace, his hands were in your hair, keeping his lips attached to yours the entire time. You could tell he was resisting the urge to go faster, you knew it wouldn’t be the only time he walked on eggshells around you. As tired and bruised up from the dollhouse as you were, you needed him to go faster.

“Jason, go faster.” You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbled, maintaining his steady but slightly wavering pace.

“You won’t, I promise.” You assured, bucking your hips upword, trying to get as much of him in you as possible. He looked at you for any sign of reluctance, but was met with none. He started moving in you faster.

“Jason.” You moaned his name, turning him on more. He got quicker, more rapid, as he thrust in and out of you. You closed your eyes tightly, sighing at the overwhelming pleasure. You felt your walls tightening, you knew you were close. You whimpered, feeling yourself ready to completely fall apart beneath him.

“Shh, just let go.” He whispered in your ear, making you shudder. You felt your body giving into him, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You came around him, causing him to groan in your ear. His thrusts began wavering, clearly chasing his own release. You noticed he was about to pull out, but you put your hands on his biceps to stop him.

“Don’t.” You pleaded, you knew it was risky, but you really wanted to feel all of him.

“You sure?” He asked, uncertainty in his eyes. You put your arms around his neck and nodded, looking at him with doe eyes. He pushed into you a few more times before he came inside of you, burying his head into your neck as he did.

You put hands in his hair, twisting the strands around between your fingers. You were both a panting mess against each other, your hair was messy, lip gloss smudged, him leaking out of you. Every minute, and every second of it was perfect.

Soo, this is my first imagine, so I hope you like it. I'm not familiar with writing smut, so if there's anything I can do to fix it, lmk! I write stories on Wattpad, and I'm currently in the process in writing a Jason fic and Derek Hale. They're not published yet, but once they get to at least twenty chapters I'm going to post it.

[nereidprinc3ss]

early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will

in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.

warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine

a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee

The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 

Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  

You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 

Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 

Sometimes he just looks… edible. 

And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 

“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 

Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”

“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”

“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”

Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 

“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”

Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 

“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”

That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 

“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 

“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”

Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 

Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 

His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—

“Yes you do.”

Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 

It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 

“Uh, I promise you I do not.”

“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”

You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”

“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”

“You think we should move?”

You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 

“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”

Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 

Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 

He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 

“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”

“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”

Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 

“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”

Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 

“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”

Your knees bump. You lean into it. 

“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.

“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”

“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”

Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.

“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 

“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”

“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”

“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”

“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”

His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 

“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”

He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 

“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”

You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 

“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”

He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 

Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 

“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”

“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”

He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.

“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”

Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 

You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.

His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 

You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 

“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”

[ynscrazylife]

i need to be excused (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)

summary: yknow that scene where hotch says “excuse me” and then faints? imagine that but his wife does it to him.

Having a profiler for a husband gets annoying with how observent he is. Unfortunately, you’re also a profiler, so it’d be hypocritical to complain.

Still, when Hotch notices the slightest thing wrong, he latches onto it. He’s had his eye on you ever since you took a hard hit from a fight in the field. You barely had time to recover before the team had to board the jet again to respond to some emergency Strauss needed them for.

Apparently, a man who claims to be linked to other murders and who was a former BAU agent had made a threat against Strauss’s family. Finally back at the BAU, the team’s stuck calling people, making arrangements, going through endless paperwork to try and get more information and figure out what was going on.

You’re not doing so hot. Still reeling from the pain, but also exhausted and definitely moody. Hotch keeps it professional since they’re at work, but is still watching out for you.

Hours later, after correctly identifying the man and making the arrest (which included lots of running around), the team again returns to their base. They’re going through everything and debriefing next steps, when you abruptly stand.

“I need to be excused for a moment,” you say, already sounding breathless, before promptly keeling over and collapsing onto the floor.

For a second, everyone freezes in shock. Hotch is the first to react. He all but screams your name, dropping to his knees and trying to assess what’s going on.

“Honey, honey? C’mon, wake up. What’s going on? Sweetheart, please,” Hotch says as he shakes you, moving you so that your head is in his lap.

Spencer kneels on your other side, gently taking your pulse and reporting that it’s stable. “Could be exhaustion, dehydration . . .” He trails off, listing all the reasons he can think of.

Hotch uses one hand to run his fingers through your hair and the other to cup your face, lightly tapping your cheek. After nearly a minute of the team standing around, wondering what to do, your eyes start to flutter open.

“Aaron?” You mutter, seeing your husband’s eyes first.

“Hi, hon. You passed out. I need you to tell me how you’re feeling,” he says, keeping his voice soft but letting out a breath of relief now that you’re awake. He continues threading his fingers through your hair and rubs his thumb against your cheek.

You blink a couple times and then say, “Tired.”

Exhaustion, then. “You’re sure that’s it? Is anything else wrong?” Hotch asks, anxious to role out some underlying cause.

You nod, then grimace at the lightheaded feeling it gives you, turning and smushing the side of your face in Hotch’s lap. He looks up at the team and gestures his head towards the door.

They get the hint, though Emily and Spencer do offer to stay behind and help. Hotch thanks them but assures them that you’ll be alright and the team takes off.

“Do you feel alright to sit up?” Hotch asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” you murmur and, with his help, sit up. You immediately lean into his arms. “Ooh, wow. Dizzy.”

“I think you pushed yourself a bit too hard, sweetheart. We gotta make sure you rest properly. Wouldn’t hurt to get some food and water in you, too,” Hotch says, cradling you.

You hum in agreement. The two of you sit there for a bit, Hotch being in no rush to move you. He can’t help but reflect a bit and he sighs, shaking his head.

“What?” You ask grumpily.

“Just a little in shock that you actually excused yourself before fainting,” he says. He recognizes the funniness of it, though he lacks any amusement, still too worried.

You chuckle. “Was tryin’ to be polite,” you explain.

“I’m sure you were,” Hotch says, smearing a kiss against your head.

You continue on sitting, Hotch rubbing your back. Finally, he gets the both of you on your feet, and leads you out to the car. He sits you in the passenger’s seat and buckles you in, driving you home. Once there Hotch immediately gets you in bed, helping you change into pajamas before doing the same. He gets you a glass of water and a snack, making sure that you eat and drink it all.

“Wanna sleep now,” you mumble once you’re done, curling into his chest.

“Of course, dear. Just relax,” he coos, already planning to call you both out of work tomorrow. He does not take his wife fainting lightly and is going to do everything he can to make sure you’re okay.