#fireworks at night: spencer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crypticreid · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER DAY FOUR

October 13 -- Virginity

masterlist

author's note: happy friday the 13th!! this is a behemoth, but it feels right to celebrate this day with a little bit of fireworks lol!! thank you to everyone who voted in the poll, I might do more of those throughout the month. thank you for reading and let me know if you want to be tagged! (also, because this took me so long, it isn't as tightly edited as my other work)

summary: To be completely honest, you're struggling a little bit with you new job at the BAU. Spencer is there to help. Oh, and maybe he can help you with a few other things too.

warnings: female reader, losing virginity, fingering, oral (female receiving), grinding, discussion about masturbation and mention of sex toys

word count: 6.9k (sorry? lol)

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

Morgan smiles up at you from his desk as you scramble into the bullpen. Garcia is leaning against his desk as she raises her eyebrows. You toss your go bag under your own desk and push your hair out of your face, trying to ignore the pair.

“Rough night?” Morgan giggles, as he pushes the pencil he’s holding through his circled fingers suggestively. Garcia guffaws, but at least has the decency to playfully hit Morgan on the shoulder.

“Can you two behave for like five minutes?” You groan and try to find your ID badge. You literally just had it to get into the BAU department, but now it has mysteriously disappeared. It isn’t on your desk or in any of your pockets, but you do find a couple crumpled up dollar bills that you toss onto your desk without thinking.

The appearance of the bills causes Morgan to whistle. Emily walks over and sees the offending currency. “Damn, invite me next time!” She laughs.

You roll your eyes and don’t reply. Instead, you pull up your go bag and start to empty it. Maybe you accidentally put your badge in one of the pockets, you rationalize.

“What is going on?” JJ asks with a small laugh, gesturing to the contents of your go bag now completely strewn across the desk. Clothing and toiletries clutter the surface and you know you look like a crazy person. And maybe you are crazy. No, you definitely are crazy. Anyone who does this job is absolutely batshit crazy.

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. You are absolutely not going to have a mental breakdown at eight in the morning in the bullpen, and definitely not in front of fucking Derek Morgan. “I can’t find my badge.” You mutter and drop down to your knees to look under your chair and desk.

You palm the dirty floor, but don’t find anything. Your friends stifle their laughter. “I would help you but this is not a crawl around on the floor kind of dress.” Penelope offers.

“Gee, thanks.” You say to yourself.

“Hey, has anyone seen –” Spencer stops in both his tracks and his sentence when he notices you on the floor. He swallows. “I found your ID badge. Over by the door. I think you dropped it.”

“Wonder boy saves the day!” Morgan exclaims.

Spencer finishes his trek over to you and offers a hand to help you up. You glance up at him, blushing slightly at the angle. Who would’ve thought you’d be on your knees in front of Dr. Reid? Okay, you’ve definitely thought about it, but your imagination didn’t normally make it happen inside Quantico and it absolutely never in front of your coworkers.

“Sorry, my hands are kind of dirty. Uh, from the floor.” You confess and take his hand as you stand up. His hand is warm and soft, like really soft. Like you could easily fall asleep to him rubbing your back in mindless patterns. As soon as you’re on your feet you slip your hand out of his to avoid your mind adding more ammunition to your middle of the night imaginations about Spencer.

“It’s okay.”

“Thanks. For the badge… and –” you take the badge from his other hand and gesture meaninglessly between the two of you.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself redden deeper.

“Alright, alright! Time for kiss and tell!” Penelope exclaims and you blink away from your eye contact with Reid.

“What?” You whip your head around to her.

Emily makes kissing noises and musses her hair. “You. And some mystery person. Last night. Clearly.”

You turn toward her. “No. I wasn’t…” you start, your eyes flick over to Spencer as he walks toward his desk. “There’s no one.”

JJ leans on your desk and raises her brows. “Then what were you doing last night?”

You could not tell them the truth, but it was also impossible to lie to the best profilers in the country, so you give them a half truth. “Nothing. I just had a bad night.” You shrug and start to put your clothing back in your go bag, not bothering to fold it.

The truth is that it had been a bad night because you were struggling with the job. You’d been hired ten months ago and the lack of sleep, the neverending cases, and having to constantly deal with the horrific things humans can do to one another was taking its toll on you. Yesterday had been a day off and you wanted to use it to catch up on sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, the faces of the people you couldn’t save filtered in. You hadn’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since you started and it had caused a complete breakdown last night. You had pulled up Hotch’s contact information four times ready to quit, but you knew you couldn’t do it. You were here for a reason, you’d stick it out.

Penelope hums. “Well, if it wasn’t a person… then it must’ve been alcohol.”

“Or gambling.” Emily adds.

You roll your eyes. “I don’t gamble.”

“You should. It’s a lot of fun. I’ll play you in Blackjack.” Emily smiles.

“Don’t play with her, she counts cards.” Reid murmurs absentmindedly as he reads over a file at his desk.

“I do not!”

Everyone laughs, but then the laughter dies away when Hotch comes out of his office. “Looks like no one gets to have fun for a couple of days.” Emily groans.

On the flight home after the case, you’re seated across from Spencer. Everyone else is asleep or has headphones in, even Hotch is passed out on the couch, which is rare. You still can’t sleep, so you stare out the window into the darkness as you fly over Virgina. Spencer clears his throat and you roll your head to look at him.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You allow a small smile to form on your lips. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He swallows and puts the book in his hand down in his lap as he leans forward slightly. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but you don’t really seem like yourself lately. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The sore achy feeling of wanting to cry but holding it in burns your throat. You cough softly. “I’m okay, really. Just – having trouble sleeping.” You give just a little bit of information, hoping it assuages his curiosity.

“Is it that mystery person keeping you up at night?” He asks point-blankly.

Your mouth is agape and you snap it shut, “did you just make a joke?”

“I tried to.” He smiles and you match his smile with your own.

“There really isn’t anyone.” You shake your head. “I’ve never –” you almost let the rest of the sentence slip out, but stop yourself just in time. The lack of sleep is obviously affecting you more than you thought.

“You’ve never what?” The way he moves his body forward in his seat makes your heart thrum in your chest. His body language is clear, even a rookie behavioral analyst could tell, he was prepared to listen to what you have to say. Not only that, but he actually cared.

You bite the inside of your cheek before letting out a sigh. Before you answer, you lean closer toward him, “I’ve never had sex, actually.”

His eyes widen and he clears his throat, “you’re a –”

“Virgin,” you finish for him. “I’m not ashamed or embarrassed by it. And it isn’t like I’m saving it or anything. It just hasn’t happened yet.” You shrug. “In all honesty, part of me just wants to pick some random person and get it over with.” You let out a small breathy laugh in an attempt to make you feel less awkward.

“Why haven’t you?” You meet his eyes. “I mean, just found a random person to get it over with?”

One of your shoulders lifts in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Like when I think about it, I realize that I’d rather have someone I trust, you know. Someone who would take care of me and not just see me as another notch on their bedpost. At least for the first time. And then after that, I’d feel more comfortable just going out and… you know.”

“Notching up some bed posts.” He nods knowingly and you giggle. He smiles, you notice that he enjoys making you laugh. A lot of the time it seems like people are maybe laughing at him or about him, but not you. He’s never the butt of the joke for you.

“Sure, Spencer.” You can’t help, but trail your eyes over him and contemplate the question that’s on the tip of your tongue. “How did you lose your virginity?”

He doesn’t seem offended or shocked by your question. “In college.”

You scoff, “weren’t you like twelve?”

“During my undergrad, yes. But I have multiple PhDs.”

“Of course, Doctor Reid.”

He shifts in his seat. “I was twenty. She was, uh, we worked in the same lab. And had the same research advisor.”

“So you two experimented on each other.” You joked.

Spencer’s face flushed and you felt a pang deep in your stomach. “In a way, yes.”

“I’m joking, Spencer.” He nods in understanding. “Were you like her boyfriend?”

“No, we just –”

“Hooked up.” You finish for him.

“For a couple months, yeah.”

Your mouth drops and you whisper, “you had a fuck buddy?”

His blush deepens. “I don’t think we ever called each other that.”

“What did you call her?”

“I don’t know. We never talked about it. I finished my doctoral thesis before her.” He shrugs.

“Wow, who knew.”

“What?”

“Morgan isn’t the only playa on the team.” You giggle and scrunch your nose, feeling the stress of the last few weeks dissipate from your shoulders.

“I’m not…” he laughs and shakes his head. He glances out the window. “We’re landing soon.” He swallows and leans back in his seat. It was terrible, but you had a strong urge to step across to his seat and straddle his lap and kiss him until you were both breathless. You turn your gaze back to the window and try to force the image away.

Your car wouldn’t start. You forcefully turned the key in the ignition again, and it sputtered and died. As you hit your steering wheel, you let out a frustrated noise and hit it again. You turn to grab your cell phone from your bag to call a tow truck and jump when you hear a knock on your driver’s side window. Spencer stands there apologetically, waving his hand with his closed mouth smile.

He steps aside when you open the car door and get out. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” You laugh bitterly. “My car won’t start and I need to get a tow.” You bite your lip, but can’t stop the tears that bubble over.

Spencer freezes, but then reaches out and touches your shoulder lightly. “It’s okay.” For some reason his comfort makes you cry harder. “Oh, uh, here,” he mutters and pulls you into a full hug. He squeezes you tight against him and rubs your back as you cry into his chest.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” You blubber into his shirt.

“No, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Is it?” You pull away from his chest to look in his eyes. “I’m failing at this job and –”

“Woah, failing at this job?” He interrupts. “Who said that?” His brows furrow angrily.

“No one.” You blink away the tears stuck in your eyelashes and Spencer reaches up and swipes away one that trails down your cheek.

“You’re not failing. You’re excelling. You’re incredible. Truly, I mean that. I wouldn’t lie to you. I promise.” He swallows and you realize how close to his face you are, his hands wrapped around your back.

You don’t stop yourself, even though you know you should, as you lean into him. His eyes flutter down to your lips, but he doesn’t pull away, so you keep going. Your lips touch his lightly, barely there before you back away.

His hands tighten on you and pull you closer to him. He chases your lips with his and kisses you back, your own hands are on his chest and they twist into his shirt. You kiss him fervently, his hands traveling to your lower back, arching you into him. A moan escapes from the back of your throat and it breaks the spell. Spencer pulls away from the kiss.

His lips are pink and shimmery and you want to kiss him again. Desperately. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, his tongue slipping out and swiping across his bottom lip.

“What for?” You blink.

“Kissing you.”

“I kissed you.”

“I kissed you back.”

“And you should do it again.”

His eyes dart to your lips. He wants to, you can tell, but he stops himself. “We shouldn’t.”

“Not here, at least.” You glance behind him and pray that the parking garage is completely empty. If your coworkers acted the way they did this morning about a nonexistent mystery person, you can only imagine their reactions if they saw you making out with Spencer.

“It’s inappropriate.”

“I don’t care.”

“There’s paperwork.”

“Not if we don’t tell anyone.”

“That’s not how that works.” He laughs, you can feel the vibrations of the sound against his chest.

“Do you always play by the rules, Dr. Reid?”

He swallows harshly, you watch the movement of his Adam’s apple bob against the tight skin of his neck. “I’ll drive you home.” He deflects.

You reach up on your toes and kiss him again. His hands spread on your back and press you against him and your hands pull him tighter to you, wrinkling his shirt. You hear footsteps and both of you step away from each other instantly, putting distance between your bodies. You turn your head to see a person you don’t recognize come into view from the other side of the parking garage. They don’t even glance in your direction. The hammering in your chest slows and you turn back to Spencer. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Grab your bag.” He says with an authority that makes you spring into action quickly. Neither of you say anything as you follow him down the rows of agents’ cars to his car. He opens the passenger side for you, the vintage car creaks in protest. He closes the door and you watch from the rearview mirror as he walks around the back of the car toward the driver’s side, his hands in his pocket.

He slides into the car seat and starts the car, it rumbles to life loudly. “I normally don’t even drive to work, just take public transportation. But I had an errand the other day.” He explains absentmindedly as he checks the rearview mirror and slowly backs out of the park spot.

“It’s kismet.”

“I always thought it was interesting that the English pilfered that word from the Turkish language. Considering words like fate and destiny already existed. Some etymologists attribute it to the rampant orientalism at the time. You know, like kismet was more mysterious or mystical or exciting than just simple fate.” He rambles and drives you out of the parking garage. A heady want begins to grow in your lower stomach. “And of course, the Turkish developed the word from an Arabic word meaning portion or lot. Which is fascinating.”

“It is.” You say earnestly.

He glances over at you sheepishly. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble.”

“Don’t apologize. I like it.”

His eyes are already back on the road, but you can see his cheeks redden in a slight blush. “Where do you live?” He asks and you tell him. It isn’t a long drive, well it isn’t this late at night. Your morning commute is a nightmare. He gives you a brief look, “why did you join the BAU?”

You exhale a long breath before you answer. “I wanted to help people I guess. Which is so cliche, but it’s the truth. Like it isn’t even about putting bad guys away or whatever. I just want to make the world safer. For everyone.” You look over at him and he meets your gaze for a split second.

“You are doing a good job.” He states. You shake your head. “I mean it. You are. You’re making a difference. You’re helping people.”

“But how do you keep your head above water? I mean… how do you not let it beat you down?”

“We have each other. And you focus on the good.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, letting his words sink in. “Thanks, Spencer. For everything today.”

He pulls into a parking spot in front of your apartment building. “I’ll walk you up.”

You go to unbuckle your seatbelt, but it doesn’t budge. You try again, but again, nothing.

“Oh, sometimes it sticks. Here,” he leans across the middle and reaches for your seatbelt buckle. His fingers graze the outside of your thigh and inhale sharply, electricity buzzing from the simplest of touches. He unbuckles you and you let the seat belt slide across your body, he doesn’t move away from you. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, it enflames you.

“Spencer,” you whisper and turn your head toward him. His eyes slowly trail down your face toward your lips and then back up to your eyes. You can’t take it, so you lean forward and kiss him again. Tentative at first, waiting for him to respond. He does, his hands pulling your face closer to his, deepening the kiss. When you feel his tongue swipe across your bottom lip you open for him, let him explore and learn. You sigh into his mouth, your hands find their way to the back of his neck.

He slips away from you, breathless, but starts to kiss down your jaw. He mutters your name against your skin. You feel the warmth of his kisses travel down your spine toward your core.

“Come upstairs.” You sigh, when he bites lightly on a sensitive spot on your neck.

“I can’t. I shouldn’t.” He pants against your skin.

“I want you.”

He groans, deep and frustrated, and moves to lean his forehead against yours, both of your heavy breathing intermingling and becoming one. “You shouldn’t want me.”

“Why not? And don’t say the bullshit about us working together. I don’t care, Spencer. I trust you. I want you.”

He backs his head away from your forehead so that he can look into your eyes, his thumb against your cheek brushes back and forth. “You trust me?”

“With everything in me.” He kisses you again, softly, tenderly.

“I’ll take care of you.”

“I know.” You kiss him back and then pull away. He nods and you return it with a nod of your own.

His tongue glides across his lip and he swallows. You blink and he’s moving out of his seat and already at the passenger side door before you can reach for the handle. He opens it quickly and helps you out. It’s old school, but it makes your heart stutter and start. When he takes your hand in his, it feels like two magnets being drawn together. He slams the car door shut and you lead him up to your apartment.

Once you unlock your front door and guide him in, you shut the door and turn to look at him. You flick on the light. He stares at you and asks, “you’re sure?”

“Positive.” You step toward him and reach out to slide your hands across his stomach and then land on his waist. “Do I have to kiss you first again, or –” you don’t have to finish your question before his lips are on yours. His kisses are not tentative or searching, they’re needy and impassioned. Before long, you’re clawing at his shirt, untucking it from his pants and then reaching up to undo his tie.

He stops you as he breathes laboriously. “Wait, we should slow down.”

You continue to work on his tie, perpetually crooked, but now just an obstacle to what you need desperately. “I don’t wanna go slow.”

He moans and you finally get his tie undone and whip it off. “No, we should.”

Your fingers work deftly against his buttons, one at a time, and you look up at him. “I’m a virgin, but I’m not inexperienced. I’m not a delicate flower.”

His expression changes, his eyes grow heavy and he quirks his jaw. “Not inexperienced?”

“I’m not.” You almost sound like a petulant teenager.

“How far?”

“What?”

“How far have you gotten?” Your hands stop almost halfway through the third to last button. You don’t answer. His voice deepens, gravely and sexy, “you’ve clearly kissed before.” You nod. “Have you had someone feel your breasts?” As he asks the question, his hand reaches up and caresses your breast. You lean into the touch. “Has anyone put their mouth on your breasts, marking you as theirs? Rolling your nipple between their teeth?” He inclines his head into the crook of your neck and presses a hot kiss there. “Have you ever had somebody's mouth on your clit?”

Your breathing is sharp and jagged, but Spencer simply continues. “Would you let someone use their tongue to make you come? Or maybe even their fingers? Pump their fingers into until you're squirming?”

“Spencer,” you plead.

He continues to massage your breast as his other hand slips under your shirt and trails across your hips and stomach. “Or do you just mean that you’ve touched yourself? You’ve laid in bed and explored this beautiful body. Know just exactly how to make yourself shiver from your own fingers.”

You’re almost overwhelmed by his touch, his lips on your skin, and his words, your head is spinning, but you’re also desperate for more.

“We’re going to take it slow.” He informs you and it isn’t up for discussion. “Not because I think you’re a delicate flower.” He throws your own words back at you. “But because I want to take my time with you. I want to learn everything about your body. I want to touch every single inch of you with my hands. I want to make you come, I want to feel you come. Over and over again.” You’re practically shaking in his hands when his lips and teeth scrap across your jaw and to your lips. He takes them with his and you’re like clay on a potter’s wheel, malleable and completely at his will, waiting to be crafted into his masterpiece.

“Do you want that?” He breathes on your lips.

You somehow know instinctively that he wants a verbal confirmation, so you answer, “yes.”

He continues to kiss you, deeply, almost like a starved man tasting his first bit of sustenance. You answer with your own fervency. His hand at your hip squeezes and pulls you tight against him and you feel his want against you. It makes you moan. You grind your body against him and his grip tights even more.

“Bedroom. Where’s your bedroom?” He stutters, but doesn’t stop kissing you and you don’t stop either. Your hands are in his hair, pulling and twisting, holding him impossibly close to you. You didn’t know kissing could make you feel this way, simultaneously feverish and desperate, but also insatiable. You felt like you could kiss Spencer for a lifetime and never tire of it. He wasn’t close enough even though your bodies were pressed together, you needed more. The only thought in your brain is simply, more, more, more.

He pulls away from you, both of you taking heaving breaths. His lips were perfectly pink, your body thrummed with the knowledge that you caused such a change in him.

“Bedroom.” The single word went straight to your core. You take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

Once you turn on the light, he’s behind you, pressing into you. You can feel every part of him, and he kisses the back of your neck. He’s back to being soft and gentle. He brings his hands to your stomach and inches them under your shirt until he has your breasts in his hands.

Your breasts feel heavy and logically you know why. Blood has rushed to them, just as it has rushed to your other erogenous zones, and it is sending a signal to your brain to release oxytocin. But you’re realizing that logic has no place in your head when Spencer’s hands and mouth are on you. Logic means nothing to you at this moment.

“You’re so beautiful.” He compliments as he fondles your breasts, your head lolls back against his chest. He angles his head so he can kiss your cheek. “You distracted me that very first case you were on. Did you know that?”

“No,” your eyes flutter shut when he moves down to kiss your jaw.

“I thought you were so gorgeous. After the case, I went home to my apartment and touched myself as I imagined you. I felt so ashamed, I couldn’t even look you in the eyes the next morning.”

Your mind wanders back to all those months ago. “I thought I had done something wrong,” you remember.

“No, it was me. I was wrong. But I couldn’t stop. I mean you can feel what you do to me.” He was right, you could distinctly feel the effect you had on him.

“I thought of you too.” You confess.

“You did?” His voice is low and breathy and you nod. “In that bed.” He ticks his head to gesture toward it. “Tell me.”

You feel yourself heat with blush. His thumbs brush across your nipples through your bra and your breath gets caught in your throat. You swallow and answer. “I would lie there, normally because I couldn’t sleep. And then I’d think about you. Your hands, I’d think about your hands.”

“My hands?” He squeezes your breasts.

You nod and answer simultaneously, “yes. I’d imagine them on my body, touching me.” He brushes your nipples again and you shiver. “And I’d slip my hand into my underwear, and rub my clit. Pretend it was you.” His hands abandon your breasts and slide around to your back. You step forward as he takes off your shirt and then unhooks your bra and helps you out of it. His hands on your hips turn you to face him.

“I knew you were beautiful. But you’re perfect.” Your instinct is to feel self conscious under his gaze, but you push it away when you notice the admiration in his eyes.

You reach for him and finish the job of unbuttoning his shirt and then peeling it off of him. “Fair is fair.” You say. He laughs, but his laugh dies in his throat when your nails scratch down his chest.

Your hands explore his exposed chest and back, feeling the muscle move underneath soft skin, and he works to rid you of your pants. You use him for balance as you step out of your pants, but as soon as you're standing on two feet again, he backs you toward your bed.

When the back of your legs hit the bed, you allow yourself to fall back onto it. He leans over you, your legs open for him and he kisses you again. Your hands continue their previous tour of his back, now feeling how his shoulder blades move when he grinds against you.

The first time he does it, you throw your head back in a moan. Even though you have multiple layers of fabric between you, you can still feel the heat radiating through you. He does it again and you arch up to meet his movement. When he does it a third time your nails scratch down his back.

He makes a low noise from the back of his throat and you know that your panties are soaked. His lips take a journey down your body, kissing and nipping at your clavicle, your chest, spending a significant amount of time on both of your breasts, and down your stomach. Your clawing at his back by the time his mouth meets the band of your underwear.

“Look at you,” he whispers. His thumb rubs lightly at your clit over the fabric. Your thighs clench and he laughs. “Keep them open for me, baby.” You mewl at the pet name. “You like that? Being called baby?”

“Yes.” You groan out when his thumb repeats his earlier action.

He does it again, almost unbearably slow. “I want to taste you so bad. I’ve wanted to know how good you taste for so long.” His voice is strained.

“You can. I want you to.”

His hands skate up to the hem of your underwear and you lift your hips slightly as he pulls them down. You open your legs for him again and he swallows. “Stunning.” His mouth is on you before you have time to process the word.

Almost instantly, he moans against you, the vibrations causing your toes to curl. Your hands clench your duvet and he pulls away for a split second, “touch me.” You do what he asks, coiling your fingers into his hair. He laps at your clit, creating a pattern and rhythm that makes your buck up to meet him. His hands grip at your hips and hold you in place.

“Spencer, oh fuck,” you ramble. He answers by moaning against you again and then sucking your clit into his lips. You bite down a scream. The heat at the base of your spine spreads across your body. “Oh my god. Oh god.”

He alternates between lapping and sucking at your sensitive bud, your nails practically digging into his scalp, your toes curling, as you try to catch your breath. Just at the moment where it feels like too much, your body clenches and crashes over the edge of your ecstacy, his name falling from your lips repeatedly.

He continues to lap at you softly until your muscles relax in his arms and then he looks up at you, smiling and his lips glistening, “you’re incredible.” You pull him up, so that you can kiss him. You kiss the taste of you off his lips. He brings his head up to look at you, pushes away the stray hairs stuck to your forehead. “Are you going to get sick of me calling you beautiful?” He smiles.

“No, I don’t think I could.” He smiles into another kiss. His hands travel down your body and as soon as one of his fingers slides across your folds, the flames reignite.

“Is this okay?” He asks. “I want all of you.” One of his fingers slips inside of you and then he pulls it out. He slides it back in and then repeats his action, starting slow and building up to a comfortable tempo, as he continues to kiss you. Nothing about his movements is frantic, but rather languid and relaxed, gently stoking the growing fire inside of you. You grind your hips against his finger and he smoothly adds a second finger. The feeling is different, but not bad as you feel yourself accommodating the extra digit.

“Alright?” He checks in with you, looking into your eyes.

“It feels good.” It’s not like the times you’ve laid here in this bed with your fingers inside you. It’s an entirely divergent sensation that you don’t think your imagination would have been able to conjure. “Really good.”

“Yeah?” He stops sliding his fingers in and out and instead leaves them inside as he pumps them, almost as if he’s searching. He finds what he’s looking for when you gasp and cling to his shoulder.

“Yeah.” You nod furiously, biting down on your lip. He’s no longer building the tension within you. Instead, it’s like he’s playing with a taut rubber band, waiting for it to snap.

You feel your eyes start to close, wanting to roll to the back of your head. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. I want to see. Want to see you come apart for me.”

You force your eyes open. “Spencer…”

“I know, relax into it.” His thumb starts to rub your clit. “You’re doing so good.”

“Oh my god,” you start to mutter and ramble again, a mixture of curses and Spencer’s name. You never break eye contact with him. It’s intense, but also intimate.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?”

You let out a whine in answer and feel a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your core clenching on his fingers, the wet sounds of his fingers inside of you filling the room. The grip on his shoulders is tight and you hope it isn’t painful, but he barely seems to notice, all of his attention is on you. The mixture of admiration and lust on his features is almost too much. But you’re realizing that Spencer Reid never does anything part way or half-assed. Once Spencer puts his mind to something, he’s going to accomplish it. Not only that, but he’s going to put an almost Herculean effort into it. And somehow, you’ve become something he’s put his mind to. The thought makes you lean up and kiss him.

You kiss him until a gasp separates your lips from him. “So perfect,” he muses. Your core constricts and contracts on his fingers. Your breathing is short and your legs feel like they’re shaking, but you can’t really tell. “Come for me.”

One more shaky breath and then you do, the rubber band snaps. Your body arcs up into him and he swallows your shout with his lips, kissing you deeply. Again, he slows down but doesn’t stop, guiding you down from your high. When he does pull his fingers from you, you watch as he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean.

This time you don’t need him to rekindle the flame of need inside of you, it's already there. You reach between your bodies for his belt. Together, the two of you make quick work of the last of his clothing. And then he’s kissing you again, both his hands and your own caress, rub, and grab at each other. You reach down lower and lower, until you meet his hardened length with your hand. You grip the base and he falters.

“I’d love that. Really, I want it so bad. But I won’t last, baby.” You squeeze him again and smile up at him, fluttering your eyelashes. “You’re a vixen.” He laughs, kissing you.

“I want you.”

“Fuck. I don’t have a condom.” You blink, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Spencer drop the f-bomb. You giggle.

“I have some.” One of his eyebrows raises in question and you shrug. “I like to be prepared. They’re over there.” You gesture toward your nightstand and he stretches over to open it.

“Oh,” he lets out a surprised gasp and just then you remember what else is in your top drawer. “I guess you don’t just use your fingers to masturbate, do you?” He laughs.

You reach up behind you and grab a pillow and toss it at him. He dodges it and it falls to the floor. “Like I said, I’m a virgin, not inexperienced.”

Spencer grabs the box of unopened condoms, opens it and pulls one out. He carefully places the box back, his eyes lingering on your menagerie of sex toys.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“I have an eidetic memory. I’m remembering… for later.” He smiles and you feel your heart speed up, pounding against your ribcage. You hadn’t had time to discuss anything past tonight. His smile falters. “I mean – I don’t mean to presume anything. Only if you want.”

You reach over to him and pull him back toward you, kissing him. “I do. I want there to be a next time. Other times.”

He looks down at you, searching. “Good, I do too.” He kisses you and only pulls away to put on the condom. He continues his kisses as he moves to position himself, spreading your legs for him. He brushes his thumb over your clit again and you moan. When he lifts his head from yours and glances up at you. You nod your head.

You feel the tip of him at your entrance, pressing against you, but not fully in. That’s all he does at first, until you move on him and allow him to slip into you. He works himself into you, allowing you to stretch around him. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s definitely a new sensation. None of your toys feel like him. Both of you watch as his penis slowly disappears inside of you. He pushes in the last inch with a thrust. There’s a flash of a pinch and you let out a breath.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” He nods, licks his bottom lip and then resumes his circles on your clit. It only takes a few seconds for you to relax on him. You grind your hips, somehow taking him deeper. He groans. “Move, Spencer. Please.”

He inches out of you and then pushes back in without any urgency or force. He starts the same pattern and rhythm his fingers had used earlier that night. The feeling of him moving inside of you is incredible, you can feel him dragging against your walls. His body against yours, skin to skin, more connected than you’ve ever been with anyone else. Between the feeling of him pumping into and his movement against your clit, it doesn’t take long until you’re clawing at his back, wordlessly asking him for more. He answers, creating a relentless rhythm that you grind your hips to match.

At some point, your eyes had shut and you hadn’t realized and so you force them open again, wanting to watch Spencer come apart just like he watched you. “You feel so good. Better than I could have imagined.” He starts to ramble. “I can’t believe I get to feel you like this. So good.”

His eyes shoot down to watch himself slip in and out of you. “Fuck.” He cusses again. You decide you like when he curses, especially if you’re the reason. He moves his hips and his cock finds the same spot his fingers found earlier and you clench around him as you let out a deep groan.

You lose track of time, it moves at a snail’s pace, but also at the speed of light. Time ceases to exist to you, your world shrinks down to only the two of you, everything else falls away. And then you’re falling again, diving headfirst into an orgasm.

“Yes, yes. I love feeling you like this. Oh my god… oh fuck. I’m gonna –” he sputters.

You reach up and pull his lips to yours, kissing him through his own orgasm. He shakes above you as he pumps into you with a final harsh push. And then when he peaks, he slowly fucks into you through his orgasm. He continues to kiss you until both of your breathing returns to normal and then he lifts his head to look at you.

He smiles and you can’t help it when a huge toothy smile appears on your own face.

“Are you okay?” He inquires.

“I’m perfect.”

His hand reaches up and caresses the side of your face. “You are.”

The next morning you walk into the office still smiling. Everyone is around the desks, including Spencer. He glances over at you and nods in greeting, as if you hadn’t just said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the first golden rays of dawn streaming through your bedroom window.

“Good morning.” You say to everyone. You set your go bag down at your desk and Emily smiles over at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oh, Morgan. You had it all wrong.” She teases.

Morgan looks at Emily and then over to you. “What?”

“That is the look of a woman who got it real good last night.” Emily laughs, loud and brash. You smile with her and Penelope gasps.

“Tell. Me. Everything.” She runs over to you and grabs onto your arm.

“I have no idea what you mean.” You reply innocently.

JJ smirks. “Oh, she got it real good last night.”

“Is sex all you guys think about?” You joke. The girls laugh and Morgan still seems confused. Spencer is focused on the file on his desk, but his finger isn’t moving down it and you know he isn’t reading it. “I had a good night last night.” You give a small inch, just to stave them off. Penelope squeals. You grab her hand. “And that’s all I’ll say about it.”

“Boo!” Emily exclaims.

Penelope almost pouts. “Oh, you are the worst!”

“I know!” You laugh gleefully. Spencer looks up for only a split second, but you catch it and he smiles at you.

“I’ll find out eventually. You do know that, right?” Penelope warns.

“You are terrifying.” You squeeze her arm and turn away from the group to start on your mountain of files. It’s true that eventually everyone would probably find out about you and Spencer, but for now the two of you get to live in your own personal world. You smile to yourself.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife @ingrid69rs @sobbingcryingattsizzles @infinitegalaxiesworld

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #my writing #ohh my god i did not mean to write this much lmao

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reidreaders · 1 year ago

Text

I Love You?

Summary: You aren't totally sure of your feelings about Spencer, at least not until you both attend JJ's wedding.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: descriptions of unhealthy relationships, some colorful language (literally just one swear word), kissing, established relationship, not proof read, I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: this is entirely self indulgent because I'm obsessed with Spencer with kids, and also I hate most men but I just know Spencer would be the perfect bf. Also, this is totally inspired by 7x24.

Let’s be honest. You’ve had your heart broken more times than you could count. Your type seemed to be cheaters, liars, manipulators, and the like. As your mother would say, your picker was broken. That is until you met Spencer. When you met, you had sworn off of men. You were tired of begging them to do the bare minimum. All that to say, you were wary of him. He seemed nice enough, all awkward and nervous, sputtering at you like he had never spoken to a woman before. You found it endearing and honestly, you kind of liked the idea of someone who didn’t have much experience with women. It made him seem less likely to treat you the way your exes had. So, despite your vow of not dating, Spencer became your boyfriend.

Six months in and were still wary of him. Your therapist says you have “commitment issues” and to be honest she was right. You had no problem dating Spencer, no problem spending the night at his house or meeting his friends, you had no problem having sex or even meeting his mother. You just got a little freaked out when it came to taking the relationship to the next step. For example, four months into your relationship, Spencer told you that he loved you. That had freaked you out more than anything. You didn’t want to break his heart, but you also wanted to protect your own. It’s not that you didn’t have feelings for Spencer, you did, big ones, it’s just that your past relationships had made you scared to feel that way about anyone again. Spencer, of course, understood. The two of you agreed to take things slow, to wait until you felt secure, but you could tell Spencer was getting impatient. He needed more from you. You could tell that you were going to have to make your move soon or you would lose him, and that scared you more than anything. Still, you wanted to be sure, you had to be sure.

Rossi had called a few days ago and told Spencer that he was throwing a surprise wedding for JJ and Will, and he wanted you both to be there. As you got ready for the wedding, you felt nervous. Surely being at a wedding, with all the love in the air or whatever, would make Spencer even more anxious for a commitment.

Soon the knock on your door alerted you to Spencer’s presence. You didn’t bother to move from your spot in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. He had a key to your apartment and you knew he’d just come in. Out of your peripheral vision you saw a mop of curly brown hair and felt a set of hands on your waist.

“Hey.” He whispered into your ear. The sound of his voice was enough to send shivers down your spine. You spun around to face him.

“Wow,” He said, taking a step back to see all of you, “You look incredible.”

“Well thank you,” You smirked, pulling away to do a spin so he could see the way your dress moved. He grinned as pulled you back in for a kiss, slow and passionate. As you kissed him, you felt fireworks, like the kind they talked about in overplayed pop songs. Holy shit. Were you in love with him?

As soon as you arrived at Rossi’s mansion (he’d kill you if he heard you call it merely a house), you had been whisked away by Penelope and Emily, wanting to catch up after not having seen each other for a while. The three of you talked, well gossiped is more like it, over a couple glasses of wine. Your attention was pulled from the conversation when you heard the excited screams of children. You turned around to see Spencer, pulling a coin out of Henry’s ear, as Jack begged him to do the trick on him next. You watched as he did, eliciting the same excited scream from Jack as it had in Henry. You watched as he did card tricks for them with a deck of poker cards he had found in Rossi’s junk drawer. But most of all, you watched how he looked at the kids, like they were the greatest things ever put on this Earth. He was so happy in this moment, really, genuinely happy. The first thought that crossed your mind was, ‘he would make such a good father’, and then it was over for you. You started picturing Spencer playing like that with your kids while you cooked dinner, you thought about what he might be like while you were at the hospital in labor. You thought about what kind of house you might live in, maybe something in the suburbs? You thought about what kind of dress you would wear on your wedding day and what colors the bridesmaids would wear. You thought about how’d he tear up seeing you come down the aisle. And that was the moment you knew, the moment you were really sure, that you were hopelessly in love with Spencer.

As you sat next to Spencer at the ceremony, you were nearly crying. You couldn’t stop thinking about the sudden realization that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You wanted to marry him and have his babies. You figured no one would really notice your crying, it was pretty common to cry at weddings after all. But Spencer noticed. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, trying to get your attention. You turned your head to meet his eyes and he mouthed a subtle “You okay?”. You nodded and turned back to watch JJ and Will say their vows, but that simple act of checking in on you made you feel something you had never felt before. Sure you had been in love before, but Spencer made you feel safe. In that moment, you knew that all the crying and heartbreak was over for you, because you had him.

The reception was now in full swing. Everyone had a couple of drinks in them, and you were being dragged onto the dance floor by a fairly intoxicated Agent Rossi. After a couple of songs, you shot Spencer a look that said “Help me” and you knew he’d come to your rescue, even though he was much for dancing.

“Sorry Rossi, but I think it’s my turn,” He said as he took your hand and escorted you to a more desolate part of the dance floor. As the two of you began to sway, the DJ played “Lover” by Taylor Swift. You usually weren’t into the typical wedding songs, but all of the sudden you understood. You understood Taylor Swift in a way you never had before. You looked up at Spencer and saw nothing but love in his big, brown eyes.

You took a deep breath, “I love you.” You said it so quietly you weren’t sure he had heard it. Before you could confirm whether or not he had, his hands were on your face and your lips were crashing into his, for a deep and passionate kiss.

The two of you stayed like that for while, only to be snapped back into reality by Morgan making kissy sounds and yelling at Spencer to stop trying to swallow you. You both laughed, your lips still touching.

You pulled away and Spencer was beaming. You had never seen him smile that big.

“I love you, too,” He said, “But you already knew that.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and if have any ideas, requests, whatever, don't be scared to send them my way!

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #tooth rotting fluff

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hayleythesugarbowl · 6 months ago

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YOO REQUESTS OPEN? can I get a Angela x reader celebrating Fourth of July??

Red, White, and You || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you and the rest of the smosh cast go to angela’s place to celebrate the fourth of july, angela makes sure you two get your own celebration

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none

a/n: i’m sorry i couldn’t resist making the title cheesy 🤭anyways, hey girl hey! i tried to get this to you asap + closer to fourth of july but life got in the way so here you go, better late than never ig? i also have no idea what angela’s place looks like so for the purpose of this fic she’s got a house with a pool bc i say so 💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s a blender!”

“It’s a unicycle!”

“No, It’s clearly a cabbage patch doll.”

You stared up at the darkening sky as you listened to the chatter of your friends and coworkers around you, watching them play ‘guess the cloud shape’.

“They’re all wrong,” Angela leaned towards you. “It’s a bunny on a toilet.”

You giggled, turning towards her as her eyes sparkled.

You and the rest of the Smosh cast had decided to celebrate the Fourth of July together and Angela had offered her place for the gathering.

You looked around you at her backyard, admiring the layout—the table now filled with snacks and drinks, the small flames still visible in the fire pit, the calm surface of the empty pool, the red white and blue lights that had been strung over the perimeter.

Naturally, you’d been to her house many times, but you’d never actually been outside. Especially when it was so festively decorated.

You and Angela had started dating a few weeks ago, but you’d known her much longer, being her coworker and acquaintance long before you’d admitted your feelings for each other.

Now, you turned to her as the rest of the party, spread out and laying back on the grass, was still focused on the clouds.

“It’s always a bunny on a toilet with you,” you teased.

“Caught me.” She rolled her eyes at you as she twisted from her leaned-back position to kiss you.

“Get a room!” Chanse called from his spot a few feet over, throwing popcorn at you and Angela.

Angela picked up a piece and ate it, shrugging.

“Hey!” She shouted back. “At least I have a date.”

You would have chided Angela for being rude if you weren’t busy thinking what it would be like to get a room with Angela.

It wasn’t that you weren’t—and hadn’t been—enjoying the party and hanging out with everyone. But, as your eyes flicked to your girlfriend in her American flag print bikini top and baggy shorts you couldn’t help wishing it was just the two of you. You would start, you thought, by pointing to her adorable outfit and telling her to—

“Take it off!”

Yeah, pretty much that.

You turned to Chanse who had spoken. His gaze was directed at Angela, who had his empty popcorn bucket on her head.

“It’s fashionable!” Angela defended, modeling her new hat. You rolled your eyes at her, smiling despite yourself.

“Did someone say fashionable?” Ian turned around, joining the conversation as he gestured to his shirt.

“That thing and fashionable don’t go in the same sentence, my guy,” Courtney patted his arm without turning around.

“Anthony, back me up,” Ian said, tapping his best friend on the shoulder.

“Peak fashion.” Anthony shot him a thumbs up, continuing his conversation with Arasha.

“Yeah, my grandpa has the same one,” Angela joked. “Creepy eagle and all.”

Ian clutched his chest in mock offense as Amanda turned around from her spot in front of you and Angela.

“Angela, when did you say the fireworks were starting? I don’t want to stay out all night,” she said.

“Dude, it’s 9:15,” Spencer said.

“And I need my beauty sleep,” Amanda defended, flipping her hair.

“Should be any minute now,” Angela told her.

“How did you get someone to do a firework show?” You asked Angela.

Angela turned back to you, laying a hand on your leg. “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

You trailed your fingers along her hand and then up her arm, tracing patterns on her bicep.

She smiled, her voice coming out breathy as she said, “Alright fine, I guess a magician can make exceptions.”

You enjoyed having this effect on Angela—especially because you knew damn well she had the same effect on you—and you couldn’t help grinning to yourself as she continued.

“Real talk, I didn’t set them up. Just have a pyro neighbor who lights like a million fireworks every year.”

You chuckled. “Well, your secret’s safe with me.”

Suddenly, laughter erupted from your friends in front of you.

“What?” Angela shouted. “What did I miss?”

As you watched everyone cracking up and talking over each other—and Angela still trying to figure out the joke she hadn’t heard —you leaned back and took in a breath. It was mostly dark now, the stars visible and the clouds long gone.

The fireworks started then. First only a few popping sound, and then the sky was alight with bursts of color.

A cheer erupted before everyone became silent as you all began watching the show.

Angela leaned back, closer to you, and you placed a kiss on her temple.

She closed her eyes for a moment before snapping them open, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

“I almost forgot,” she whispered, “I have a surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

She smiled, standing up quietly and holding a finger to her lips, motioning for you to be quiet.

You looked at her expectantly as you stood, grabbing her hand.

Angela? Quiet?

Your position with Angela behind the rest of your friends came in handy as she led you away from the group, no one noticing or even turning their head.

She led you through her house, both of you giggling in your efforts to stay silent—though for what only she knew—and up to the balcony that overlooked her backyard below.

Opening the door, she stepped to the side and waited for you.

You put your hand to your mouth in surprise. Her patio was transformed into what could only be described as a cozy hangout. Fairy lights wound around the wooden boards, bean bags and blankets covered the floor surface, and there was a mini fridge to one side, complete with drinks and an array of pies.

“Wow,” you took in the setup that Angela had prepared. “You did all this?”

Angela smiled sheepishly at you. “Yeah, I wanted us to be able to have our own little celebration—if you want.”

You beamed at her, nodding. Angela grabbed your hand and you let her lead you to the blankets in front of you. You sat down and Angela joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

From here you could see everyone down below. You felt like you were in a separate world, observing everything from a distance.

You leaned your head on Angela’s shoulder and watched the firework show, still bright and spectacular as ever.

This was perfect, you thought. The evening alone with Angela that you had been wanting.

You brought your lips to hers. “Thank you, this is amazing.”

“Anything for my little bunny on a toilet. Besides, I’ve been waiting to be alone with you all night.”

You felt yourself blushing as she echoed your thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She brought her lips to your neck. Your ear. Your jawline. And finally your lips.

She pulled away and grinned at you, her voice rough. “You’re really sexy when you’re flustered.”

“How do you know I’m flustered?” You shot back, but your voice betrayed you.

“Because I’m flustered,” she started. “So I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

You scoffed but you nestled closer to her and she wrapped her arm even tighter around you.

“Happy fourth,” you whispered.

“Happy fourth,” Angela said back.

And then you were silenced by a particularly loud firework, the explosion lighting up the sky and illuminating Angela’s face next to you.

You could have asked for a better celebration, you thought, as you leaned in to kiss her once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this darlings!! always love writing for angela 🎀

#angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #smosh #smosh imagine #smosh fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader

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reidfucker · 9 months ago

Text

mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric

spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.

- working for the knife

honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I'm dying for the knife

- liquid smooth

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too

I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe

About to fall

How I feel this river rushing through my veins

With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round

- class of 2013

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

- i don't smoke

Just don't leave me alone

Wondering where you are

I am stronger than you give me

Credit for

If your hands need to break

More than trinkets in your room

You can lean on my arm

As you break my heart

- abbey

again, the entire song is very reid, but:

I am something

I have been something

I was born something

What could I be?

There is a light that I can see

But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me

There is a dream that I sometimes see

That only appears in the dark of sleep

- i bet on losing dogs

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

- the deal

Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night

And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight

Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me

So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said

"Now I'm taken, the night has me

You won't hear me singin'

You're a cage without me

Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for

Now I'm taken, the night has me"

- fireworks

this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:

One morning this sadness will fossilize

And I will forget how to cry

I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change

Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye

I will go jogging routinely

Calmly and rhythmically run

And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side

I'll pull it out without questioning why

- i don't like my mind

again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room

With all its opinions about the things that I've done

So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone

And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

- first love / late spring

very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

- there's nothing left for you

You could touch fire

You could fly

It was your right

It was your life

And then it passed

To someone new

It'll keep passin' on

Long after you

- nobody

And I don't want your pity

I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward

I just want to feel alright

- because dreaming costs money, my dear

I once lived in the sea

Bring me to your ear, you can hear

The tide where I used to be

Though now I'm but a shell

- a pearl

Sorry, I don't want your touch

It's not that I don't want you

Sorry, I can't take your touch

It's just that I fell in love with a war

Nobody told me it ended

And it left a pearl in my head

And I roll it around every night

Just to watch it glow

Every night, baby, that's where I go

- real men

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire

Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat

'Cause they're above that, damn it

Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

- crack baby

It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation

Both these 20 years tryna fill the void

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you had it once

And you know that you want it back

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you're needing it

And you know that you need it bad

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #mitski #mitski lyrics #reidfucker

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briefinquiries · 1 year ago

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Fourth of July

Description: You & the team go see the fireworks for the fourth of July, you have a trauma response to the loud noise.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: PTSD, blood mention

A/N: Repost :)

“What are the odds that this is the second holiday in a row that a case hasn’t come in?” Rossi mused excitedly.

The entire team was huddled in a circle in the bullpen, waiting for Emily to finish up some last minute paperwork before heading out as a group for the night.

Spencer’s finger shot up in the air. “Statistically speaking–”

“Nope,” Rossi cut him off sharply. “It was a rhetorical question, genius.”

Spencer’s mouth fell shut, but a smile lingered on his lips.

You felt Luke shift from behind you, where you leaned between his legs as he sat perched on his own desk. “No, c’mon,” he chuckled. “I wanna know the statistics!”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes playfully. Your boyfriend was always so interested in whatever random facts Spencer was spewing out.

Reid raised his eyebrows at Rossi, as if to say, see? I told you I was interesting, but before he could actually finish his tidbit, Emily walked out of her office with all her things gathered in her hand.

“Who’s ready for some fireworks?” she asked excitedly.

Everyone but you cheered.

Ever since you’d gotten back from your tour in Iraq, you’d been uneasy around loud noises. It was nothing you weren’t aware of, and certainly nothing out of the ordinary for someone who had seen combat. But it also wasn’t something that you’d told Luke about yet. You planned to, of course, just like you planned on sharing practically everything with him… eventually. But Iraq wasn’t something you could ever talk about with ease, and you knew that disclosing your fears would involve a conversation about why you had them in the first place.

That’s why you found yourself agreeing to join the rest of the team’s Fourth of July plans when Garcia had invited you and Luke earlier that week.

“Sounds fun,” you had lied straight through your teeth. You’d been dreading it ever since.

But Luke would be there. His safe arms would no doubt be wrapped around you, much like they were now. And you planned on funneling all your energy into focusing on the way that felt, rather than the chaos and noise around you.

The team planned on watching the fireworks on the riverbend downtown. They’d be set off across the water, giving you all a perfect view. Garcia promised greasy food from vendors and other sweet treats throughout the night. You kept trying to convince yourself that it wouldn’t all be bad. You just had to concentrate on not flinching everytime a firework popped off.

You rode with Luke, your fingers laced together and resting on the center console as he navigated through traffic. The rest of the team would meet you guys there. You thought you were doing a fair job at concealing your anxiety as you made small talk with him during the short ride. He showed no inclination of knowing about the knots tying themselves tighter and tighter inside your stomach.

There were a lot more people at the river than you’d originally anticipated. But Luke easily managed to find a parking spot, and the two of you waited by the trunk of his car until the rest of the team arrived.

Emily, Tara, Garcia Spencer, and Rossi all rode together. They were the first to find a spot right next to yours and join the two of you. Next, JJ and Will filed in, with no kids for the evening. Lastly, Matt and Kristy arrived, hand in hand with matching smiles on their faces.

You were like a big, giant, extended family weaving your way through the crowd of people. There were vendors and food trucks lines along the riverbend. Kids ran around with sticks of cotton candy and sparklers.

You found a spot amidst the crowd to lay down the blanket. It almost felt like a picnic when you all sat down. You sat in front of Luke, a foot or so away, rummaging through your bag for your phone. You let out a gasp when you felt his hands grip your hips and pull you backwards, between his legs, your back against his chest.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek. You smiled into his touch, appreciating how safe and secure you always felt in his arms. If you could stay like this all night, you just might be okay.

The sun started to set across the riverbed, leaving in its wake a brilliantly pink and purple sky. For a while, you just stayed like that, Luke’s arms coiled around you, your head leaned back and resting on his chest, watching the violet hues from the sunset fade into darkness.

“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Virginia all this time and have never seen the fireworks here,” Garcia gawked at Spencer. He was sitting on the blanket, his arms behind him as he leaned back.

“I’m not a big fireworks guy,” Spencer shrugged. “I don’t see the appeal.”

“Well you’ve been going to the wrong fireworks shows then, because this is going to blow your freakishly smart mind,” Garcia promised.

Luke shifted behind you, sitting up a little straighter.

“Where can I get one of those?” Luke asked, intrigued as he sees a small boy run by with a cone of chocolate ice cream.

“Ice cream truck’s this way,” Garcia grinned, pointing her finger to the array of food trucks parked about 50 yards away. “Follow me.”

You instantly felt the absence of Luke’s arms when he stood up. It left you cold and shivering.

“Want anything, baby?” he asked, looking down at you.

You shook your head apprehensively.

“I’ll be right back.”

You smiled up at him. You weren’t sure if it was to reassure him or yourself that you’d be okay while he was gone.

The air was brisk and Luke still wasn’t back when the first firework went off.

You saw it shoot up into the air, a vibrant white streak of color contrasting with the night sky, before it actually popped. But no amount of planning could have prepared you for the sound. It was deafening and loud and it made your entire body go rigid with fear.

You looked around and you could see that you weren’t in Iraq. So why did the night air feel so hot and dry? Why did the soft blanket beneath your legs suddenly feel coarse and sandy?

You had zoned out enough to not be ready for the second firework to pop off. When it did, the sound made you jump. And instantly, you were transported back to the desert. In your mind you could see, clear as day, the rest of your squad ducking behind the army truck beside you. You’ve got your gun clutched to your chest while bullets whizzed all around you, making it hard to concentrate. The loud sound of gunfire ringing in your ears was all consuming. You didn’t recognize the man crouched next to you. You barely even noticed him until his scream interrupted the steady sound of gunfire. When you looked over, his hand was pressed against his stomach, his eyes looking down at the fresh bullet hole in his abdomen. The diameter of blood on his uniform expanded rapidly.

“No, no, no–” you gasped, throwing your gun down to help him apply pressure to the wound. Your hands were shaking so violently, you could barely trust them to help, but you had to try.

“P-please,” his words were clouded by the blood that was spilling out from his mouth. “Please help me.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” you told him, your voice wavering.

He let out a choppy exhale, blood spraying out of his lips. It was like you both knew it wasn’t true.

Someone was yelling your name, it sounds like your Lieutenant. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the man beneath you. You were scared that the second you looked away, he’d be gone.

You heard your name again, but this time, it sounded closer, and the voice is softer– more familiar. It was accompanied by a hand shaking your shoulder.

When you turned your head, hopeful that someone was finally here to help, you were surprised to see Spencer’s face gazing back at you. You blinked harshly and when you opened your eyes again, the sand was gone.

There was no man bleeding in your lap, no gunfire, no war.

Just Spencer’s worried gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, trying not to draw the attention of anyone else.

Your heart was racing, so much so that you think if you looked down, you could see it beating underneath your own skin. There was adrenaline and fear rushing through your veins. But instead of telling him the truth, you just nodded.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered, your mouth dry. “I ju-just, I don’t feel good.”

It was a bad excuse, and one that Spencer clearly didn’t buy. But you needed a reason to get out of there. So, confused, dazed, and panicked, you stood up from the blanket and hurried off in the direction you thought was safety.

…

Luke made his way back to the blanket, laughing at something Garcia had said.

“Keep it up with all this ice cream and soon enough you won't be able to chase criminals.”

He faked being offended.

But when he made his way back to the rest of the team, he was startled to see that you weren’t there. Before Luke could ask, Spencer was standing up and walking towards him and Garcia.

“Hey,” he said discreetly. “Y/N took off, like- just a few minutes ago. I asked if she was okay, but she just said she didn’t feel good. I don’t know- she didn’t look okay,” he admitted.

“Was she sick?” Luke asked, instantly worried.

Spencer shrugged, “She looked out of it- really spooked. I tried to keep my eye on her, but I lost her in the crowd.”

Reid pointed towards the massive gathering of people. “It looked like she was heading towards the cars,” he told Luke.

Without hesitating, Luke just nodded, handing his ice cream to a concerned-looking Garcia, before spinning on his feet and following in the direction that Reid was pointing.

He pushed against the crowd of people, keeping his eyes peeled only for you. Only when he got to the parking lot did Luke’s shoulders relax even the slightest. From across the lot, he saw his truck, and a small figure leaning over near it that could only be you.

Luke exhaled, relieved that he at least was able to find you, before walking closer.

As he approached, he quickly realized that something was wrong. You were doubled over, your hands resting on your knees. At first, Luke thought you were getting sick, but as he got closer, he heard the unmistakable sound of your muffled cries.

That made him pick up his pace.

“Hey-” he said. “What’re you doing over here?” But there was no indication that you even heard him. Instead, you let out a shaky sob and stumbled on your feet.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurried over, reaching out to steady you.

As soon as his hand landed on your hip you whipped around, standing up straight while your entire body flinched at the contact. The sharp gesture caused Luke to pull away, momentarily shocked.

But when he saw your face, eyes red rimmed and tears streaming down your face, his chest tightened. As a veteran, he’d seen this kind of dazed and panicked look before. He just had no idea he’d ever see it from you.

“L-Luke?” you said, like you couldn’t quite believe it was him.

He cautiously nodded, not wanting to make any more sudden movements that would startle you. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

The affirmation was all you needed to rush over to him. At first he was rigid when you collided with his chest, your arms wrapping around his back craving the safety of his embrace.

He placed a gentle hand on your back, and once he realized you weren’t going to flinch again, he wound his arms all the way around you tightly.

For a while, neither one of you said anything. You clung to him like your life depended on it and Luke just held you reassuringly, knowing that was exactly what you needed.

It wasn’t until he heard you mumble something into his chest that he even considered letting go.

“What?” he asked, leaning back so that he could look down at you.

“He bled out-” you repeated. “Right in my lap.”

Luke didn’t have to ask you for clarification. And even though he knew very little about your time in Iraq, he understood. “Was it the fireworks?” he asked gently, rubbing his hands up and down your shivering arms.

You nodded slowly, still not meeting his gaze.

“Loud noises in general trigger it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked sympathetically. He felt so guilty for encouraging you to attend such a loud event. Had he had any idea loud noises were a trigger for you, he would have insisted you spend the Fourth of July curled up on the couch with takeout instead.

You rubbed your wet eyes with the palms of your hands, unable to imagine how pathetic you looked to Luke right now. “I-I have a hard time talking about it.”

Luke nodded, urging you to continue.

“I have a hard time talking about Iraq, so I-I didn’t feel like explaining.”

“Oh baby,” he sighed. He pulled you into his chest once again, this time his chin resting on top of your head comfortingly. You were consumed entirely by his embrace, and the shaking that had been wracking your entire body was finally starting to ease.

“I thought I’d be okay,” you admitted into his chest. “But as soon as you left it just was too much.”

You heard Luke sigh into your hair before pulling back. He held you out in front of him, his two arms placed securely on your arms. His brown eyes stared captivatingly into yours. “You can always tell me these things, okay?” he insisted. “I want you to, because I understand. I don’t like loud noises either. I’ve been dreading this all week. I only agreed to come because I thought you’d want to.”

It felt like a relief to finally let out a light chuckle. “Are you serious?” you asked him in disbelief.

He nodded, returning the smile.

“So you would’ve been happy just staying home tonight?”

“I would’ve preferred it,” he said through a chuckle.

You scoffed. “Well that would’ve saved me a lot of embarrassment.”

“Next year, yeah?”

You nodded, once again falling into his arms, this time with much greater ease. You were amazed at how quickly he was able to calm you down.

“I feel safer when you’re around,” you admitted.

You felt his arms tighten around you before he said, “Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

#luke alvez #criminal minds #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez fic #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x reader fic #luke alvez x reader imagine #criminal minds imagine #luke alvez x reader fanfic #criminal minds x reader

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sunshine-on-marz · 1 year ago

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You are in love

Spencer Reid x reader (song fic)

@st4rgzer thanks for the idea hun!!

One look, dark room. Meant just for you

“Are you ok Spence?” Your voice shook him from his trance “yea. I’m fine.” He smiles, that same little smile you’d grown to love so much

Time moved too fast. You play it back

You looked magical. Excitedly explaining your weekend to Morgan. “What are we talking about?” Spencer asks softly, he didn’t want to interrupt but he knew he needed to be apart of the conversation or he’d go insane. You smile and start your story from the top, this is Spencer’s idea of perfection in a person.

Buttons on a coat. Light-hearted joke. No proof, not much. But you saw enough

Spencer looked out of it. You hadn’t shown up to work that day and Hotchner wouldn’t say why. You weren’t answering anyone’s calls either. Emily walked over to his desk. “Go check on Y/N for me, will you Spencer?” She winks “I’ll take care of Hotch. Just go check on her” Spencer nods, practically running out of the office.

Small talk, he drives. Coffee at midnight. The light reflects. The chain on your neck. He says, "Look up". And your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough

He’d knocked on your door at 5 in the afternoon, it was currently 12. You were in his car, on the way to his house. You’d told him you needed a mental health day. “I’m worried about you” is all he’d said back. “You probably should be” you didn’t mean to sound as desperate as you did, but your voice cracked when you said it. Before you knew it he was in the doorway of your bedroom as you packed a bag with something to wear in the morning. He’d practically begged you to come stay with him, but truth be told you didn’t want to be alone just as bad he wanted you to be with him. He pointed a bit, gesturing through the windshield to the moon. “It’s pretty” you say, he hums. There’s something behind his tone, but nothing you plan on focusing on, not right now.

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you. You can feel it on the way home, way home, you. You can see it with the lights out, lights out. You are in love, true love. You are in love

His heart was racing, he slowly reached over and interlocked his fingers with yours. You don’t say anything, just squeeze his hand with your own.

Morning, his place. Burnt toast, Sunday. You keep his shirt. He keeps his word. And for once, you let go. Of your fears and your ghosts. One step, not much. But it said enough.

You’d figured he was lying when he said neither of your would work the next day. But he held true, you woke up at 11 to Spencer in the kitchen panicking a bit. “What’s wrong Spence?” You giggled from the sofa. “Burned breakfast” he mumbles. And you genuinely laugh for the first time in what feels like days. You walk over to him, silently, and hugged him. “Let’s go get something then” you smile.

You kiss on sidewalks

The walk to the bakery was short, but it was nice, his hand in yours, until he stops. “Hey Y/N?” He says softly “hi Spencer” you smile “can I kiss you?” He asked, his hand detangling from yours to find its place cupping your cheek, you nod. As his lips touch yours, it isn’t fireworks, but you didn’t expect it to be. It was gentle and quiet and soft. No part of loving Spencer Reid was an explosion, all of it was peace.

You fight and you talk

You two did fight sometimes, like all couples do, but fighting with Spencer is different. The two of you fight with the desperation you had to get together. You want it to end so you can be hopelessly in love with each other, and put back on the rose colored glasses that feel so heavy when they slide off the bridge of your nose. Every fight ends the same, crying and apologizing until someone’s asleep or laughing. That was the beauty of it.

One night he wakes. Strange look on his face. Pauses, then says “You're my best friend”. And you knew what it was. He is in love

As you lay in his bed next to him, his half asleep face graced with a small smile as you run your fingers through his hair. “You’re gorgeous Spencer” you smile. “You’re the best thing in my life, you’re my best friend Y/N” he says, kissing your hand which had moved from his hair to his jaw. “Really?” You ask, your eyes tell a different story, your eyes flickering from his lips to the rest of his face, fruitlessly trying to read between the lines of what he’d said. “I’m in love with you Y/N. I want you to be more than just my best friend”. That was it. You can hear it in the silence, silence, you run your fingers up his jaw, stopping at the nap of his neck, gently pressing to make him move forward. You can feel it on the way home, way home, you remember it so vividly, they way he’d looked as he drove you to his place for the first time, now you know what that look meant. You can see it with the lights out, lights out. He gently pulls you against him, kissing you as he does. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks. You nod.

You are in love, true love

This was so freaking fun I wanna do more holy crap I love song fics

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds

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jinxedgods · 1 year ago

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its so weird how pretty little liars (the tv show) made characters who were sexual abusers innocent cute boyfriends. PLL was originally a book series. Toby was a creep who inappropriately touched his sister,Jenna, and eventually commits suicide when Emily confronts him about it. The night Alison disappeared, Jenna and Alison conspired to kill Toby with a firework. It ended up blinding Jenna instead, but she was so desperate to end the abuse that she doesn’t care and is thankful Alison helped her.

In the show, Jenna LIED about being abused to send Toby to jail because he didn’t sleep with her???? Toby and Spencer form a cutesy couple?? Jenna is an evil bitchy villain for multiple seasons. She is blind for some unrelated reason.

Now, EZRA FITZ. In the show, a perfectly normal guy who dates a girl who just happens to be his student. Their relationship only has downsides because of random soap opera drama and the legal issues surrounding teacher/student relationships. Nothing to do with grooming. No power imbalance. No abuse or manipulation on Ezra’s part. In later seasons Ezra turns out to be morally fucked up — not because he’s a huge perv — but because of random soap opera shenanigans. Before that, he’s an upstanding guy. And don’t tell me the showrunners planned for him to eventually become some half-baked bad guy. They had no idea what was coming next at any point in the show. Him and Aria get married and we are supposed to be happy.

Book Ezra Fitz literally gets fucking arrested. The police break in while him and Aria are together and it’s fucking humiliating. As soon as Aria tries to get back together with him, he’s kissing another student. Because in PLL (the books) grooming is bad!

#pretty little liars #aria and ezra #aria montgomery #hanna marin #emily fields #spencer hastings #alison dilaurentis #ezra fitz #THE VILLAIN #PLL

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littlewriterfullofwords · 1 year ago

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Happy New Year

Parring: dr. Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Summary: It's a New Year Eve party!

Warnings: fluff I guess

A/N: Happy New Year guys! I had some drinks so excuse any mistakes!

Just like for Christmas Eve, you invited your team from BAU over to celebrate New Year Eve with you.

You decorated the house with some balloons, prepared some food and alcohol. You put on shiny clothes (made shiny make up) and waited for the team to appear by your door.

As always, Penelope was first. Her beautiful smile enlightened the house and her colourful clothes gave colours to the monotonous decor of the living room.

"You make our life a lot better, sweetheart." Said the woman and hugged you again, the third time in 5 minutes.

The next one was Emily. Her dark hair, perfectly composed with black, slightly shiny dress, was tied in a loose bun with free strands on the sides.

JJ wore a red dress and curled her blond hair that had fallen on her back and shoulders.

The men, instead of Gideon was Rossi, the sudden change you didn't expect to happen, came in wearing suits or something quite elegant.

"Who would think we would need your little parties." Joked Morgan, a glass of homemade alcohol in between his fingers.

"We're glad you're with us." Joined him Emily with a smile and a glass of whiskey.

"Sure." You jokingly rolled your eyes then laughed. "You only need my alcohol, nothing more."

"Actually..." Everyone looked at Spencer who was enjoying his one and only vodka. "We all are very fond of you. Me especially."

"Yeah, we know." Agreed Derek with a smile. "We know."

You also smiled. You've never heard Reid being so straightforward with anything except information and facts. What he had said made your stomach turn upside down and the heart to skip a few beats.

You were also very fond of Spencer. As you realized before Christmas Eve, you were fucking in love with him and you were sure nothing could change that any time soon.

After some talking with food along, you all started to dance, sing and drink even more. Those people in your house, they were totally different people from that you worked with. It's not like you were complaining, no. It was just good to know that they were feeling comfortable enough to show their other side to you.

"You know." Quiet tipsy Emily sat by your side on the sofa and pointed at Reid who was singing one of Abba's song with Aaron in the middle of your living room. "The doctor is very fond of you. He looks at you all the time. He talks about you when you're not around. He's kinda obsessed, you know?"

"That's... That's good to know, thank you." You didn't know what to think about the information you just received.

Should you work on that? Or should you leave it as it was? Gods only know.

When all those thoughts were going through your head like F1 cars, your eyes locked with those belonging to Spencer. You both smiled at each other. You felt another heat wave hit your face. You were in love with the guy.

3...

2....

1...

Happy New Year!

The fireworks flew to the sky and exploded with million colours, making the night sky the brightest in the whole year.

"I hope we stay together." Started Penelope and clinked her glass with Derek's. "I really love you guys!"

"We love you too, Pen." You said and kissed her cheek.

Everyone, of course with champagne in their hands, wished everyone happy new year and more. It was a tradition, right?

"Y/N." Before you came back inside behind everyone, Reid stopped you by calling your name and slightly pulling your top.

"Yes, Spenc?" You stopped and looked at the doctor who looked cute with those red cheeks and hazy eyes.

"I wanted to...." His hand hid under his hair as he scratched his neck what, as always, made you smile. "Happy New Year, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to answer but before you even made a sound, Spencer's lips touched yours.

You always knew him as an individual who would rather avoid physical touch yet here he was. His lips on yours, his hands on your cheek and waist, almost no distance between you two. And oh gods, you loved that! You loved that too much.

"Happy New Year." You whispered after you two parted. "I hope you stay with me, Spenc."

"I hope so too, Y/N." One more kiss before coming in, his hand on your lower back and wide smiles on both your faces.

"So...." JJ pushed Emily away from the window and looked at Morgan who was facing the wall.

"Shall we congratulate you, guys?" Asked Aaron.

"I think so." Answered Reid for both of you.

"Happy New Year then!"

#ff writer #ff #criminal minds ff #criminalminds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid

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fanfics4all · 9 days ago

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Fireworks

Request: Yes / No Fluffcember Day 31!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 442

Warnings: Just explosive fluff!

Prompt(s): Fireworks

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Christmas with the BAU team was nothing like I imagined. I expected it to be a simple, quiet evening, maybe with a few festive decorations and polite small talk. But I should have known that nothing could ever be ordinary with this group.

The conference room at Quantico had been transformed into a cozy holiday haven. Twinkling string lights were everywhere, and Penelope had somehow convinced everyone, even Aaron Hotchner, to wear Santa hats or reindeer antlers. Mugs of hot cocoa steamed on every table, and Christmas music filled the room.

Spencer was sitting beside me, looking more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. His hair was slightly messy from the Santa hat Penelope had plopped on his head and he kept pushing his glasses up, cheeks pink in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he watched the team share stories. He looked like he was soaking every bit of warmth and joy the night had to offer.

“Are you having fun?” He asked, leaning over. His voice was soft as he watched me. I nodded, smiling.

“More than I thought I would. It feels like home.” He smiled back, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m glad you came. It wouldn’t feel the same without you.” The warmth of his words filled me with quiet happiness, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. I was content to just be with him and everyone I’d come to care about. As the night went on, David suggested we head to the rooftop.

“I heard there’s going to be a surprise tonight.” He said with a mysterious glint in his eye.

“Fireworks! What better way to end the night?” Penelope squealed, clapping her hands.

We all bundled up in coats and scarves before making our way up to the rooftop. The night was chilly but clear, and the lights of the city twinkled below us. Spencer slipped his arm around me, pulling me into his side to keep me warm. The others gathered around, chatting and laughing. Their faces were lit by the soft glow of the city lights.

Then, all at once, the sky exploded in color. Fireworks burst above us in dazzling patterns of red, gold, and green, casting a glow across everyone’s faces. Spencer’s eyes lit up as he watched them, his mouth curving into a small, genuine smile that I always loved seeing. He looked so peaceful. So completely at ease in the moment. I felt his arm tighten around me and I looked up at him.

“Merry Christmas.” He whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the fireworks.

“Merry Christmas.” I whispered back.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl

#fanfic #prompt #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer x fem!reader #fluff #fluffcember #fluffcember 2024 #fluffcember day 31 #fireworks

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year ago

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🏖️ Summer Sunshine Fics

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work. You are so appreciated, and the diversity only makes these events better.

Without further ado, here are all of the entries + recs for the Summer Sunshine Challenge! ☀️

☀️ SFW S.R./Reader ☀️

Sleepy Sunshine by @ssahopelessly: [Fem] After time in the sun, Reader wants a nap, but Spencer is more concerned about the signs of heat exhaustion.

Check You for Ticks by @andiebeaword: [Fem] Reader gets set up to share a tent (and a sleeping bag) with Spencer.

Embarrassed by @babymetaldoll: [Fem] The annual FBI beach trip could be the perfect place to make things even more awkward between Spencer and Reader.

Little Miss Reid, Entrepreneur by @/babymetaldoll: [Fem] Spencer and Reader help their daughter with her lemonade stand. So does the BAU.

Heat Stroke by @0and0its0doctor0: [Fem] Reader is self-conscious about the scars on her arms so she wear long sleeves in the heat.

Beach by @c-m-stuff: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are married. They have a beautiful daughter, and they all are going on vacation.

Pyrotechnics by me: [GN] Reader has a hard time on Fourth of July, and Spencer helps them fall in love with fireworks again.

Summer Nights by @foxy-eva: [GN] Summer may come to an end but the kisses Spencer shares with you will not.

Check below for more Spencer Reid fics, as well as Hotchgan, Penemily, Temily, and several Gen fics!

☀️ NSFW S.R./Reader ☀️

Sunscreen & Statistics by me: [Fem] Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and rinsing off).

Lost Time by me: [Fem] Reader and Spencer spend mandatory leave on the vacation Spencer never had.

Nude Beach by @foxy-eva: [Fem] Reader finally convinces Spencer to go to the beach with her. Turns out it's a nude beach.

Summer in the City by @/foxy-eva: [Fem] Having a nearly naked roommate made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer.

In This Diary by @fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] Spencer was hoping to relax before his started his new job at the BAU, but best laid plans often go awry.

Summer Heat by @/fortheloveofwonderland: [Fem] The BAU must undertake a team building hike in the woods. Reader and Spencer get themselves lost and have to find a way to pass the time.

Summertime Service by @pinkiceee-prose: [Fem] Reader throws the BAU team a summer barbeque feast. Spencer is moved by her hard work and decides to show his gratitude.

Popsicle Love by @reidmotif: [Fem] Reader and Spencer are at a ridiculously hot precinct and getting on each other's nerves. Reader realizes she can get back at him using a certain sweet treat.

Spencer Reid Doesn't Know How to Swim by @reidsfav: No one knows that Spencer doesn't know how to swim and Reader is willing to help him keep it that way.

Just Hanging Out by @reiderwriter: [Fem] Reader finds herself at Rossi's mansion for a big summer barbeque. A hammock catches Reader's eye.

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress by @/reiderwriter: [GN!AFAB] The AC at the BAU breaks during a heatwave, and Reader decides the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion.

☀️ Other Pairings ☀️

The Shape You Take by @masterwords: Hotchgan. Hotch is dwelling on an empty nest. Morgan has just the ticket: sea, sand, food and naps. While exploring a nude beach one night they find a little more than they bargained for.

July by @gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple takes a trip to the beach.

August by @/gaelic-symphony: Temily. The couple rides out a summer storm.

Watermelon Sugar by @putting-the-bi-in-bau: [NSFW] Penemily. Emily has spent her vacation trying - and failing - to keep her eyes off Penelope while she walks around the house in nothing but her underwear.

Pool Parties and Secrets by @alicewonderao3: Spencer/Fem!OC. Swimming can be both fun and scary all at the same time.

☀️ Gen/Platonic ☀️

A Very Serious Fight by @alluring-andraya: Platonic. The team is very lighthearted, but one thing they do take seriously other than their jobs, is water gun/balloon fights.

Scars by @codename-mom: Hotch. Jessica offered Aaron to come to the beach with her and Jack, but there is something she doesn't know that stops him.

Baseball and Barbecue by @writing-till-i-run-out-of-time: Everyone went over to Rossi's for a family fun day of barbecue. Then something happens to Spencer.

Lemon-aide to the Rescue by @/PandorasDreaming [Ao3]: Henry, Michael, and Jack make their first lemonade stand but disaster strikes. They have some pretty important friends backing their first business investment!

Happy reading!

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the-queen-and-the-king · 20 days ago

Text

Locked up

Summary: Aaron and Emily lives a passionate but secret relationship when, during an investigation, they end up being locked up a motel bedroom (rewrite of S04E04).

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, and JJ

Contents: short smut, mention of oral sex (f receiving), mention of the case details (rape, torture and death), mention of voyeurism, fight, injury and, of course, they're locked up. NSFW/Minors DNI

Thanks again to all the members of the Hotchniss discord server for their cheering and their energy! ^_^

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

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Read on AO3 / lire sur AO3

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It was getting dark in Nevada and a car was speeding down the road with two federal agents on board. They had had to travel to the neighboring state to interview witnesses in their ongoing investigation and were now joining the rest of the team. At least, that was their initial objective.

“The GPS says we've got another four hours before we arrive,” Emily declared, looking in Aaron's direction, behind the wheel.

“I won't make it that far,” he admitted, rubbing his face for the umpteenth time.

He'd been up for sixteen hours, having slept only four. Driving drew on his resources at top speed.

“Would you like to take over?”

“Honestly? I've got my hands full, but if it's absolutely necessary to find the others, I can make the effort,” she agreed, before adding. “As long as we stop for a bite to eat.”

Her last real meal was at breakfast. They'd made do with a packet of potato chips for two for lunch, the only open food store they'd come across having apparently been robbed just before they passed. She was starving.

“No, it’s fine. It can wait until tomorrow,” asserted the branch manager, who wouldn't have minded getting something to eat too. “By the time we get there, they'll probably be in bed.”

Even though the BAU was used to staying up late, at one o'clock in the morning, with no further progress in their investigation, there was little point in them standing around. Especially since the suspect seemed to have dug himself into a hole when the FBI arrived.

“Okay,” nodded the young woman, observing the display on the on-board computer screen. “It seems that there are motels around. Let’s see if they have some rooms.”

“Some?” frowned her neighbor.

“One,” she corrected with a smirk.

Their lips stretched in unison and Aaron placed his hand on her thigh. She placed hers on top and their fingers intertwined. They had been sleeping together for several months, unbeknownst to their colleagues. Unbeknownst to anyone, in fact since no one knew about the two of them. It all started on a Friday night when the group went to a bar to unwind after a difficult week. Late that night, Hotch had offered to drive her home. She has accepted, then encouraged him to follow her to her front door. He’d given in and she’d kissed him. It had been an impulse – guided by two years of waiting and facilitated by alcohol – and he'd responded by kissing her back. They found themselves pressed against each other, involved in a fiery embrace. They could have had sex in the corridor if the timer hadn't reminded them where they were.

So, they'd crossed the threshold into her home, and they'd done it in the entrance hall, her buttocks propped up on the dresser, the bare essentials removed. It had been a fireworks display: brief, but delightful. They had continued their exactions in her room, with no clothes left. Things could have stopped the next morning, once their minds were clear again, but quite the opposite. They'd spent the weekend acting out the fantasies they'd been imagining all this time. They saw each other again the following weekend, and the one after that, before finally taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to get together. And not just to fornicate, even though they loved to. All the while being extremely cautious, as they had no desire for management to learn of their story and fire any of them. They loved their passionate unions, but they enjoyed working side by side just as much.

After buying something to keep them from going to bed hungry, they approached a motel whose rooms were small, spaced-out dwellings scattered among the trees. A perfect place for lovers wishing to be at peace. Aaron got out of the car to chat with the manager, while Emily lingered to send a message to the team. To no avail.

“It’s good. We have a room,” said the giant, waving the key around his index finger.

“Great! But there’s no network.”

She showed him her cell phone.

“Did you try next to the road?”

“Yes, and there’s nothing. I feel like we are in a desert.”

Many parts of the country were still devoid of relay antennas, often because the small number of inhabitants in the vicinity didn't justify the cost of the manpower required to install them. He still looked at his own mobile.

“Nothing more.”

“Did you see if there was a phone at the reception?”

“No, there was nothing,” he said before smiling wryly. “Why? Did you have someone to inform?”

She raised her eyes to the sky, a sneer at the corner of her lips. Even though they had decided not to put any pressure on each other – they weren't living together and hadn't made any plans for the future – they knew that their attachment to each other went beyond a simple, regular booty call. Only, rather than admit it to each other, they often joked about the possibility of their partner being in a relationship with someone else.

“The team, idiot,” she resumed. “They’re going to worry if they don’t see us coming back.”

“Or they'll look at their watches and realize we've stopped for the night before ending up in the ditch.”

“You think so?”

Emily was aware that her lover had a practical logic superior to her own, and he was surely right, but she couldn't totally silence her anxiety.

“I can hear Spencer now saying that it's exactly seven hours and forty-three minutes from our starting point to the police station where they're waiting for us.”

She smiled as she imagined the scene and felt more serene. She leaned her head out the window to kiss him, and they exchanged a tender kiss. Then they headed for their bungalow, shoulder to shoulder, too used to pretending to be colleagues to notice that there were no witnesses around them. But when the door to their cottage closed behind their backs, they forgot about protocol, their difference in status, the investigation; everything. Now it was just Emily and Aaron, and the two lovers longed for each other.

As they kissed passionately, they began to undress. Their jackets were the first to fall to the ground. Then he pushed her back against the bed where, once seated, she hastily removed her shoes. He did the same in the meantime. Their mouths glued together, and their hands went wild. Soon she found herself lying on her back, her gaping blouse revealing her horizon-blue bra. Her pants had already landed somewhere in the room.

Her lover's jacket and tie were gone, and the first buttons on his shirt had popped off. He kissed her mouth, cheeks, chin and neck while his left hand groped around his ankle. Despite the excitement he felt at participating in the foreplay of an upcoming embrace with the woman he loved, his brows furrowed. As Emily stroked his hair, he straightened to move away from her.

“Wait.”

“What’s going on?” she enquired, concerned.

“I can’t…”

Annoyed, he sat down on the mattress and pulled his leg to him, pulling up his pants. The holster around his calf appeared, his weapon still tucked inside.

“A problem?” continued the profiler, leaning on her elbows.

“It’s stuck.”

The whole system was held in place by a set of straps that were tightly fastened so as not to move as he walked. He was so used to it that he forgot about it during the day – he'd even fallen asleep in it – but when it came to sharing an intimate moment with Emily, the paraphernalia became cumbersome and had to go, just like the rest of his outfit.

“Let me do it,” she ordered, patting him on the shoulder.

She wanted to get on with the rest of the program, and this setback was dragging on and on. Aaron stepped back without reluctance, and she grabbed the end of the longest strap. She drew it to her with a jerk to disengage the metal tooth from the holes... and nothing happened. The buckle remained closed. She repeated her gesture, without any further success.

“Geez! What have you done?”

“Nothing,” he defended himself on the spot. “But I don't think the leather appreciated the puddle I stepped in.”

“What's the idea of walking through a puddle with a gun at your ankle?”

“I didn’t see it.”

He had put his foot in the dirty water just as he got out of the SUV, and so had spent a good part of the day half-soaked.

“Ah, wait!” exclaimed Emily after wriggling the leather band in all directions. “Yes, it moves.”

Smiling from ear to ear, she saw the buckle of the first strap finally open. Naturally, the other followed suit and the case fell into her hands. Satisfied, she threw the gun at the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“Throw my clothes all you want, wherever you want, but not my gun.”

The young woman immediately froze and squinted her eyelids inquisitively.

“… Did I just hear you say I could throw your clothes anywhere I wanted?”

Very careful – and a touch manic around the edges – the unit manager took great care with his suits. Probably the only thing he spent his salary on, everything else being entirely devoted to Jack. In fact, even in his sexual frenzy, he made sure his jacket and pants weren't stained or creased. Which was a little frustrating for his partner, who didn't care where her bra landed, as long as the titan came to fondle and kiss her breasts.

“… Maybe,” he said, realizing what he’d set off.

Emily laughed and kissed him tenderly on his mouth. He relented, and the lovers quickly forgot their misadventure. Before long, they were completely naked and engaged in torrid duel. He was lying on top of her, moving back and forth between her legs, which she had bent until her knees were level with his shoulders. Aaron gripped her hips as his pelvis hammered the warm, narrow den he loved to lose himself in. Emily clung to the headboard, eyes closed, mouth wide open, her chest heaving with force to bring in the air she needed. She encouraged him, commented, and chanted his name between two whimpers of pleasure. He felt her gradually closing around him. Then she arched her back, trembled, and fell back, shuddering, onto the sheets. He didn't hold back any longer, sank as far into her as he could and surrendered to ecstasy, a rattle of relief passing his lips.

They fell asleep some times later, curled up together, the comforter lazily thrown over their exhausted bodies. As usual, Aaron awoke at first light. He tried to extract himself discreetly from the bed, but his companion was glued to him, one arm wrapped around his torso. She was roused from her slumber the second he tried to loosen her grip.

“Nuuuuuh…” she grumbled, clinging tighter.

She loved snuggling up to him, and even more so in the wee hours of the morning, when human folly hadn't already driven them off the road. She loved this calm before the storm, enveloped by the gentle warmth emanating from her companion, lulled by the slow heave of his ribcage. She loved the softness of his skin under her fingers, the beating of his heart in her eardrums, the sweet touch of his natural scent stirring her olfactory cells. During this time, she had the feeling that the world came down to the two of them, and that suited her just fine.

“Sorry. We have to get up.”

“A little longer,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

“By the time I've washed and dressed decently, yes,” replied the agency manager, with a smile in his voice.

He knew his partner was a groundhog, and it amused him to hear her negotiate every time they woke up next to each other. For him, it was a sign that she enjoyed being with him.

“… M- okay,” she conceded, her head buried in the pillow.

So, he went to get up, but Emily's fingers were still firmly clamped on his wrist.

“Kiss,” she commanded, eyelids closed.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her tenderly. They remained mouth to mouth for a few moments, then she released him.

“Okay. Go away now.”

He laughed as she disappeared under the quilt and finally reached the bathroom. Emily took the opportunity to appropriate her companion's pillow, still warm, and hugged it to her chest. She inhaled his scent at the top of her lungs, intoxicating herself with the fragrances she loved so much. She'd never been much of a flower girl and had thought that love with a capital A wasn't for her. And yet, things had come naturally to Aaron, as if it were self-evident. And without her feeling weakened or ridiculous. He was her soul mate, period.

The shower water began to run, and she opened one eye. He was right, it was time to get up. It was broad daylight outside. She sat up in bed and shivered. She was naked and, although there was a fireplace, there was no fire. Thermal shock was harsh. She had to cover up promptly. The idea of meeting her lover in the shower crossed her mind, but this would further delay their return to the team. Which would certainly arouse suspicion. What neither Aaron nor she wished. For now, they wanted to enjoy their secret romance in peace.

Gathering her courage, she slipped out of the sheets and hurried to the first item of clothing she saw: her bra. All their clothes were scattered around the room, and she quickly noted that, in their haste the day before, they hadn't thought to take their travel bags from the trunk. They could only dress as they had the day before. Unless she fetched them while the colossus was washing. Which was right up her alley. So, she went round the room to get what she needed: blouse, socks, pants, car keys. She frowned. Something was missing. She lifted Aaron's things, looked under the box spring, pushed back the comforter. Still nothing.

The manager came out of the bathroom as she stepped back to get a more comprehensive view of the space.

“And the miracle is complete!”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” she growled turning her gaze on him.

He was dressed only in a towel wrapped around his hips. In other circumstances, she would have done what she had to do to bring it down and merge again with this man who had forgotten to be ugly, but the mystery that was troubling her was disturbing her too much for that.

“Have you seen my panties?”

“What?” he raised an eyebrow in turn as he moved forward to pick up something decent.

“I can't find my panties,” she revealed, puzzled. “And not that I mind walking around without one, but after what we did last night, I'm not sure it's the idea of the century.”

She had been known to walk around with nothing under her skirt or pants, with the sole aim of exciting her partner. But, each time, she had planned for change afterwards. Mainly because she didn't want him to protect himself.

“I remind you that it was you who wanted me to end up in you.”

As had been the case since the beginning of their relationship, even though he had offered to equip himself as required until they tested. Except that she knew she had nothing to fear from him – after his divorce, Hotch had had the sexual activity of a monk taking a vow of chastity – and, above all, she loved feeling him come inside her.

“Did I reproach you for anything?

“… No,” he realized in the end.

“Anyway, it's not as if you could have done otherwise,” she teased, giving him a knowing look.

“… Maybe not the second time, no.”

She smiled and kissed him before caressing his cheek.

“Search for me, I'll take over.”

She, in turn, disappeared into the bathroom to wash up, and he began the search. He gathered all his belongings to get dressed and found that only Emily's jacket and shoes remained. No trace of her underwear. How was it possible? He vividly remembered taking it off her and dropping it on the carpet before beginning cunnilingus. So, it had to be somewhere.

Confused but aware that they couldn't appear before the other team members dressed as the day before, he reopened the washroom door and said:

“I’m going to the car to grab our bags.”

“Fine,” replied the profiler, whose back was to him as she shampooed her hair.

Aaron's gaze lingered on the hollow of her loins and her buttocks, then he remembered his mission. On the way to the SUV, he tried to figure out where those panties had disappeared to. He returned to the bungalow just as Emily emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel too, without having solved this riddle.

“Did you find it?”

“No. But here's your bag,” he affirmed, handing her her property.

“It's still weird,” she grumbled, pushing open the zipper.

“Look, I'll buy you another one when we get home, but in the meantime, we've got to hurry. If we don't call Penelope in the next ten minutes, she'll send the army to search the area.”

As far as the analyst was concerned, they had been off the radar for almost twelve hours. It would take a lot less than that to get her in a tizzy.

“And when do we take our breakfast?”

“What?” he croaked, caught off guard.

“I’m starving.”

Their dinner had consisted mainly of chips, a stunted sandwich each and a muffin for two. With the somersaults they did afterwards, this energy boost had long since worn off. Even he could feel his stomach rumbling.

“We'll have breakfast on the road, in an area where there's a signal to call for it.”

She nodded and sat down on the mattress beside her bag to pick out a new outfit. However, her mind kept returning to this strangeness.

“… Isn’t that a little fishy? Panties don’t disappear like that.”

“Emily,” he said staring at her.

“Yes, sir!”

She mimed a military salute, which made him smile, and they finished changing. She was just putting on her jacket when Aaron stepped out. He put his hand on the handle and turned it, but the door didn't move. He tried again, to no avail.

“Is there a problem?” she enquired, coming up to his level.

“I can’t open the door.”

“You went out fifteen minutes ago,” she pointed out, puzzled.

“Yes, I know, but the door doesn’t open anymore.”

Some might have been surprised by the calm emanating from the ex-prosecutor's words, but not Emily. The giant was stating a fact, nothing more. And even if, like her, he didn't understand the origin of this fact, he felt there was no cause for alarm.

“Did you unlock it?” she asked, far less relaxed than he.

“Yes, but obviously, it’s locked from the outside.”

“How is it…?”

She didn't have time to finish her sentence when one of the shutters in their room closed by itself, followed by a second and then a third. In less than a minute, they were deprived of all vision of the world. Daylight came only from the chimney flue. They had watched the scene without moving and kept their stillness in silence for the next minute. The cottage was calm again.

“Am I allowed to say, ‘What the hell?’?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell?” she exclaimed, her heart beating against her ribs.

She didn't like the way things were going at all.

“It looks like a trap,” analyzed coldly her neighbor.

“Why?”

“Because we attract freaks.”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction, and he shrugged in response. He didn't know what was going on any more than she did. Only one thing was certain, they had to find an exit. Without exchanging a word, they began to scrutinize their surroundings.

“It's impossible to get through the chimney, the flue's too small,” decreed Aaron, poking his head into the hearth.

“And it's concrete under the carpet,” she noted after peeling back a corner, ”so we can't dig.”

And all other potential exits were closed. Their quest ended far too quickly for their liking.

“At least we know where your panties went.”

“Yes, well, he can keep it,” she hissed before sitting down on the bed. “What are we doing?”

“I suggest waiting. He's bound to show up here at some point to put the rest of his plan into action.”

“Smart.”

Like her, he retrieved his weapon from his hip holster, and they remained on the lookout, attentive to any slightly suspicious noises. The sound of footsteps, the crack of a branch, the creak of a lock, the click of a gun. But everything was quiet. A serenity that stressed Emily even more. Especially as a question grew in her mind.

“Aaron?”

“Yes.”

“Don't you think it's strange that the guy came into the room to steal my panties, but left us our guns?”

The ex-prosecutor was silent, just long enough to analyze the weight of what he had in his hand. And the fact was, even though he was used to holding it – and therefore to its density – his Glock was much lighter than usual. He put the safety back on, disengaged the magazine and saw that it was empty. He immediately checked his ankle weapon, which had no more ammunition than the first. His partner also checked her gun, without any further success. He went to look in the bags, which had also been searched. They didn’t have any bullets left.

“Okay. He's not completely stupid after all,” said the female profiler, disappointed as much as annoyed.

“I guess not,” agreed the colossus, dropping his useless pistol on the comforter.

“How long do you think it'll take Penelope to call up the cavalry?”

He looked at his watch. It was almost half past eight. They still had at least three hours to drive to the police station where the BAU had been called. After a quick mental calculation, he declared:

“Not before two hours. Plus the time for them to get here, you can add another hour.”

He knew that law enforcement units were not far from where they had landed. They'd be the ones who'd go out of their way to pull them out.

“I thought she was going to panic in ten minutes. Isn't that what you told me earlier?” underlined Emily, confused.

“Yes, and I stand by what I said,” he insisted before explaining. “But before she calls anyone, she has to tell the others. And I'm sure they've all reassured her that we had to stop off somewhere for the night.”

“And it won't get dodgy for another two hours,” she realized, disillusioned.

Aaron nodded in confirmation and his companion lay back on the bed, dejected. While she enjoyed spending one-on-one time with the titan, the context didn't give her much to look forward to. The latter took a seat beside her.

“What do you think he's trying to achieve by locking us in here?” she resumed.

“I imagine he expects us to blame each other.”

“Why would we do that?” she bounced, watching him.

“Because it’s what most people do under stress.”

And she was okay with that. But there was a pitfall in this logic.

“Yes, except it's not your fault that it was late, and that this motel is run by a mental patient.”

“Why should it be my fault?” he questioned her in return, remembering that it wasn't he who had chosen this place in particular.

“It’s not my fault either.”

And she wasn't wrong about that either, since none of them had anticipated that the interviews would take so long or, indeed, that the motel manager would be a confirmed sadist. So the profiler calmly agreed.

“And does he try to prove? That love doesn't really exist?” she went on; her curiosity aroused by the fact that they didn't have much else to do than wait anyway.

“… Not necessarily,” counteracted her lover after a few seconds' thought.

“Why?”

Yet this was in keeping with the atmosphere instilled by their torturer; claustrophobia can trigger epidermal reactions that are difficult to control. She could easily imagine the motel owner, smiling, watching these couples of customers arguing because they feared for their lives, notwithstanding their fifteen years together and their two kids. All because he must have been rejected at some point in his past, even though he had high hopes for this relationship.

“In… In fact, one file arrived on my desk before we were called for the other, concerning traffic accidents in the vicinity. Every time, victims were a couple in a car.”

“What’s the connection with… our issue?”

“They were already dead before their vehicle was hit, and the woman was systematically not wearing panties.”

Emily felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Raped?”

“Yes. But I think the symbolism of the accident is more important to him.”

“A kind of ultimate and brutal rape.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. He hates women,” she concluded easily.

“Yes.”

The whole situation put women in a weaker position than men. They found themselves half-naked, in an enclosed space, at the mercy of a companion who, under the influence of anxiety, could become violent. The fact that they had been sexually assaulted only reinforced the fact that the suspect had a fierce hatred of people of the opposite sex. Probably a childhood trauma.

“And based on the fact that this chair is nailed to the floor,” she continued, “I deduce that he tortures women in front of their husbands, whom he has tied up beforehand.”

Aaron's brown irises swiveled in her direction, surprised.

“It’s nailed to the floor?”

“Yes. I tried to move it when I was searching for my panties. And since it's unlikely that anyone would want to steal such a chair...”

The furniture was crude, without any embellishments, and didn't look comfortable at all. No normal human would want it in their home, so there was no reason to rivet it to the carpet like that. Unless the aim was to force its occupant to look towards the bed.

“So, I’ll do my best to avoid being knock-out.”

“Please.”

A silence passed, during which they returned their attention to the sounds around them. But apart from the wind stirring the leaves on the trees around their cottage, there was nothing alarming. Perhaps he'd gotten cold feet when he realized he'd trapped two federal agents and was now thinking of a way out.

“I’m thinking about something again,” she resumed.

“Yes.”

They were now both lying side by side in bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Do we agree that he came into the room while we were asleep?”

“Yes.”

“And while he was emptying our magazines and searching the room for my panties, we didn't hear a thing?”

He understood his partner's concern and disbelief. They had been trained to be on their guard at all times during their investigations, but wouldn't they have reacted to the extremely close presence of an intruder next to them?

“We were exhausted. Not to mention what we’d done before.”

“Okay, but the room is small. I'd like to think we'd have heard him poking around.”

Aaron was quick to speculate that he'd searched their bags while they were still in the SUV's trunk. As for the gun magazines they had on them when they entered the bungalow, he imagined that the manager had taken them along with the underwear, returned to his den, quietly emptied them and returned to deposit them, empty, in the middle of their mess. So, he hadn't been near them for more than a few seconds – one or two minutes at most. Not long enough to activate their survival instincts and rouse them from their slumber.

“… Then I guess not, but what you say is interesting,” he declared, sitting down on the sheets.

“I'd say ‘creepy’,” she pointed out, leaning on one of her elbows.

“No. The door is far too noisy for us not to have heard it, and the draught would have woken us up,” he remarked, indicating the door that was almost in line with the bed frame, three steps away. “So, he couldn’t get in this way.”

Emily thought about what this meant and took her turn sitting next to him when she understood.

“… You mean there's access to the inside of the cottage?”

“Yes. We just need to find it.”

“It’s not the chimney yet. Unless Santa went bananas.”

Aaron smiled despite the precarious situation they found themselves in. His companion was much more optimistic than he was, and she had a greater capacity for perspective than he did. When she had emerged, battered, from Cyrus's clutches, it was she who had comforted him rather than him. His galloping anxiety had destroyed his ability to analyze things coldly. It was she who had had to tell him the facts so that he would calm down and stop blaming himself for what had happened. And regularly, her humor came to defuse tensions and he was not insensitive to it. He felt like kissing her and taking her in his arms, but she had already jumped off the bed to probe the walls.

He imitated her and began banging on the wooden planks in search of a hollow sound. They ended up in the bathroom. It was he who spotted the disjointed plate behind the wall-mounted radiator, but just as he went to pull on it, the panel suddenly opened from the inside and struck him head-on. He collapsed in the shower cubicle, stunned. A bearded guy in a lumberjack shirt had emerged from the hiding place. Emily, in a reflex, sent her foot into his face. He collapsed on the tiles, inert. Indifferent, she rushed towards her lover.

“Aaron?”

“I… I'm fine,” he said, struggling to stand up.

His eyebrow arche was open. She helped him to his feet, and he discovered the suspect's prone body. It was the man who had given him the keys when they arrived.

“I’ll go get the handcuffs.”

He disappeared into the room and soon returned... with a belt. The young woman raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“He also swiped our handcuffs,” he grumpily justified.

He could see from here all the paperwork he'd have to fill out for all those missing pieces of equipment. He sighed, bored in advance, and fastened his belt as best he could around the manager's wrists. Then he turned him on his back and saw the extent of the damage. The whole lower part of his face was covered in blood.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked, fixing his gaze on her.

“No one touch my man,” she answered on the spot.

In any other context, he would have appreciated this mark of affection – really – but here, he could see all the complications her gesture would bring.

“… Okay. If someone asks you why they have a broken nose and broken teeth, please don't use this line of defense.”

“Why? Afraid your ego will take a hit?”

“No. I just don’t want to be fired.”

A prospect that somewhat dampened Emily's vehemence.

“Fine. I'll plead self-defense then.”

He smiled. Reassured, she imitated him, and they kissed. Then she asked:

“Which way do we go out?”

“His.”

“Okay. You, get up!”

By shaking him, they managed to rouse the suspect from his unconsciousness. He immediately groaned, but not without insulting them in the process. In a single movement, they lifted him onto his two feet and pushed him into the passageway he had created. The path was not very wide – ideal for a single individual – but wide enough for the three of them in single file. Night-lights, regularly placed at ground level, ensured easy progress despite the unevenness of the terrain. But they didn't get very far when the female profiler let out an exclamation.

“Oh!”

“What?” reacted Aaron turning around.

She pointed to the wall adjoining the bedroom.

“Look. There was a hole so he could watch our every move.”

“Makes sense,” he commented laconically.

“It probably also means he saw us doing...”

The giant winced immediately. This hypothesis was not at all to his liking.

“I wonder what that was like.”

“Emily,” he lectured her, much less comfortable than she was on the subject, especially in the presence of witnesses.

“Sorry. Come on, you pervert!” she ordered, pushing the malefactor backwards.

The tunnel brought them to the room adjoining the reception desk. Taking advantage of the fact that there were no potential customers, they installed him in the only chair available and began to search the premises. They needed evidence to build a solid case against him and – they hoped – recover what he had stolen from them. The unit chief was the first to unearth a bag containing an impressive collection of women's underwear. More than the number of accidents reported to him. How long had this guy been at it?

“Look what I have found.”

“It looks like evidence to me,” his partner rejoiced, glaring at their attacker.

“Yours may be inside.”

“Yes, well, it’ll stay there,” she objected at once. “There's no way I'm putting back anything that sicko touched.”

The very idea made her nauseous. In any case, she wasn’t one panty away.

“I take it for the sheriff. And you, you’re coming with us.”

“Wait, I’ll look for our ammunitions and handcuffs.”

“I'll be at the car,” he announced, dragging the sadist outside.

Emily didn't have long to rummage around to get her hands on their chargers and bracelets. She also retrieved the key to their cottage and went to pick up their bags. She then met Aaron by the SUV and he firmly handcuffed their torturer, already seated in the back seat. But they didn't start immediately. The agent had stumbled across the medicine cabinet along the way and set about treating her companion's arch. Like all head wounds, this one bled profusely and his shirt was already good to go. It wasn't until the bandages had been applied that they finally boarded. Elizabeth Prentiss's daughter soon noticed their passenger's mocking smile.

“Why are you smiling?” she harpooned him.

With what they had on him; he was off to finish his life behind bars. So, nothing to laugh about.

“Is your acrobatics allowed under your rules?”

“Our superiors know all about it,” replied Aaron quietly, without taking his eyes off the asphalt.

The criminal’s mirth vanished. Emily, for her part, cast a discreet glance at the driver, who was looking confident. She understood that he had lied so that he wouldn't think he could use their secret relationship to save his skin.

A few minutes later, they stopped off at a diner for breakfast. The scoundrel didn't have the honor of eating pancakes and sipping coffee. Finally ready to tackle the day, they set off again and drove until they found a network. The co-pilot dialed Derek's number, who picked up within half a second.

“At last! Where have you been?” he rushed breathlessly.

“Solving another case,” explained the director, in all seriousness.

“What?”

She could see him wrinkling his nose in confusion. A vision that made her smile.

“You'll understand when we get there. You can reassure Penelope and tell her to call back the rescue.”

“I don't think the President will like it.”

They laughed in unison, relieved, then she hung up. The couple continued to cover the miles until they reached the police station. The whole team was eagerly awaiting them, and their eyelids widened as they saw them get out of the vehicle in the company of a guy in handcuffs.

“Okay. I've got a lot of questions in my head, but the one that sums it all up is, “What the hell?” confessed Dave as they approached the group.

“Exactly the question I asked this morning.”

Very quickly, once the suspect was behind bars, the manager explained everything, or almost everything. He spoke of their break at the motel, the absence of a network and their chaotic awakening, unarmed, without their handcuffs and unable to leave the room. He did not mention the first disappearance that had aroused their suspicions, thus avoiding having to justify why Emily no longer had it with her. He ended his story with the thug's eventful arrest. Everyone listened in religious silence.

“Here's some of the evidence,” he said, holding up the bag of underwear, ”but we'll need to find more to link it to all the victims recorded in recent months.”

“Okay. I'm sending a team of technicians over there,” announced Derek, his cell phone already in hand. “What was your room number?”

“One hundred and eight,” Aaron answered immediately.

His partner, for her part, barely repressed an exclamation. However, she waited until Morgan had moved away and the others were absorbed in their conversation before coming up to her lover, who was checking his e-mails.

“Hotch.”

“Yes?” he did without looking at her.

“You're aware that the technicians are going to look after every inches of the room.”

“Yes, that's the whole point,” he replied, still immersed in his reading.

“All the room, including the bed.”

This time, he froze, raised his nose and met her gaze. He'd just understood what she'd realized right away.

“… Morgan!”

He reappeared next to them.

“What?”

“Prentiss and I are going back to the motel,” he declared in his usual monotone. “We’ll be able to help the technicians.”

“But we're waiting to hear back from you regarding your interviews with the witnesses,” stressed his interlocutor, perplexed.

“We'll call you from there.”

And without giving her the opportunity to object, the giant headed for the reception hall, his accomplice hot on his heels. At the same time, JJ returned to Derek's side, as intrigued as he was.

“Didn't he say there was no network there?”

“Yes.”

Just then, Spencer appeared with the bag of panties in his hand. He seemed to be in a state of confusion.

“I have a question: how do they know these are proofs?”

___

I hope you have enjoy that new vision of that episode. :)

#hotchniss #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #hotch #smut

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